by Calista Fox
“Beef stroganoff,” they said in unison.
“It was her specialty,” Jade added, her voice faltering. Tears stung her eyes as she remembered her mother humming softly while she cooked and Jade set the table.
“Well.” Morgan’s gaze dropped to her necklace for a brief moment before he added, “Both the king and I were greatly disturbed by their deaths. Remorseful. Enraged, even. I hunted the shifters myself and…” He shook his head, a troubled look crossing his face.
“And, what?” she asked as she studied the general. He truly did seem upset by the tragedy. Even fifteen years later.
He inhaled deeply. Exhaled slowly. “They were renegades, but I didn’t take them to the castle to stand trial, Jade. As I was required to do by law. I knew first-hand what they’d done. I hadn’t been able to get to your parents before it was too late, but I couldn’t allow the murders to go unpunished. I had to avenge Liam and Marianne myself.”
She gaped. Pressed a hand to her heart. “You’re the one who pursued the shifters.” She’d seen that much from her hiding spot in the woods. “You were cloaked—I never saw your face. But you went after the wolves with such fury.”
“Yes.” He swallowed hard. “And my vengeance likely would have been worse if I’d had known you’d witnessed the whole thing. The king told me later.”
Her legs trembled and he reached a hand out to steady her.
“I never knew what happened to the shifters—you were all out of my eyesight in the end,” she said. “I should say they had the right to stand trial, but I can’t bring myself to consider that option. Knowing you dealt with them and exacted retribution for my family…” She fought back a wave of emotion and tried to control the tears threatening her eyes. “That means a lot to me.”
“They were good people, Jade. They didn’t deserve their fate.”
“That is very true.” She had to tamp down more of the stinging sensations rising within her. “Tell me something. Why did you stop coming to the cottage after I was born?”
“How would your parents explain to a young girl that a demon was coming for dinner? One of the very demons who waged a war against your kind?”
“But it would have explained so much,” she said. “My mother always seemed so torn between hating your species and yet finding some sort of compassion for them. She was the one to first teach me that humans can be just as destructive. Lisette’s books confirmed my mother’s notions.”
“Marianne saw things from an objective viewpoint. I always admired that about her. In the long run, however, she was only partially right. Not all demons are evil. But Jade… Many of them are.”
With that, he turned once more on his booted heels and marched out of her house.
He’d left her with a clear warning—not to get too comfortable because she’d had interactions with a few demons who didn’t want to kill her. How many more existed that would easily see her dead?
She left the room with a foreboding weight in the pit of her stomach. She tossed the last of the logs from the stack Davian had first supplied onto the fire. His timing was uncanny. She’d been resigned to shoveling for ground debris again in the morning. Yet he’d obviously known her supply had reached the dwindling point and had sent Morgan. Could be he was monitoring, from afar, the amount of smoke from her chimneys and recognized she wasn’t generating as much heat of late.
And that bed he’d had made for her… She laughed out loud, despite her melancholy. The fact it was three times the size of her old one aside, she loved it. Yes, the accommodations would feel lonely since she’d be sleeping by herself. But when she wandered back into her room and gazed at the bed, all she could really think about was how beautiful and inviting it appeared.
There was no denying she’d prefer to indulge in the plush comforter and satiny sheets with Davian, but she remained realistic about their predicament.
In fact, her relationship with him wasn’t what sprang to mind when she changed into her nightgown and slipped between the covers. Rather, her thoughts were centered on Morgan and the things he’d said. She hadn’t known his close involvement with her family, nor had she known of his revenge on the shifters who’d mauled her parents.
One thing that did resonate within her, however, was the comprehension that her mother had been right. Though the human-demon good versus evil equation was a complex and nearly impossible one to solve, she could at least grasp her mother’s sentiment now, for her parents had had exposure to a demon not hell-bent on destroying them.
Jade herself had met a demon who lived in constant conflict because he had executed deadly orders against the humans—a movement he hadn’t been in full agreement with, as he’d admitted to Jade. All this time, the humans had felt as though they were the only ones to suffer. That clearly was not the case.
Yet Morgan’s warning did not go ignored. As she reveled in the lavishness of her new bedding, she wondered if perhaps she really had become too comfortable with the other world she’d gotten a good glimpse at. Her father had apparently maintained a balance between being a liaison to the kingdom, with Morgan, and being the leader of the village. Peace had prevailed and fatalities had been kept to a minimum, with the exception of the obvious ones.
Jade couldn’t help but draw a parallelism. She’d inadvertently built a bridge between herself and the kingdom. She had the king’s ear and his general’s sympathy. She also had the trust and respect of the villagers. The slayers, even.
Now it was time to look beyond her complacent lot in life. Once again she pondered the questions she simply could not escape. Was she meant to carry on in her father’s stead? Was she meant to be the true leader of Ryleigh?
She had no idea what Toran and Walker would say if she opted to step into this role. Except that they too seemed to look to her at times to be the one to placate the villagers or to demand explanations needed in order to reconcile an issue. The slayers hadn’t batted an eye when it came to serving as her personal escort. As though they felt it was a dutiful thing to do. A respectful thing to do.
And Toran had given her a sword to protect herself against the fire wraith.
As sleep encroached, Jade had one last thought.
While she diligently participated in politics, she had let a crucial and necessary talent slide…
Chapter Sixteen
“You want me to do what?” Toran glared at her, disbelief stamped across his sculpted face.
With marked exasperation, Jade repeated, “Teach me to fight, Toran.”
“You already know how to fight, Jade. I wouldn’t have given you a sword if you didn’t.”
“A weapon that has only been out of its casing once since you gave it to me in October. And for the record, I haven’t had any lessons or practice since my father died. A decade and a half ago.”
He rubbed his forehead as though she gave him an instant headache. They stood in a snowy patch in a good-sized clearing along the south woods, not far from where Jinx was buried.
“What’s this sudden interest all about?” the slayer asked. “The fire wraith is long gone. Even the general doubts he’s a threat to our community. The assassination attempt failed. It’s been peaceful around here for over a month.”
“I know. But I still think I should have a refresher course. I have a sword—I need to be able to wield it appropriately.”
“Well,” he said, reluctantly conceding. “I can’t disagree with that. You live in the north woods by the demon border, all by yourself. In fact, this is probably a very good idea. Except…I don’t want you to get hurt.”
Jade snorted. “I fought with my father, Toran. I think I can handle it.” She felt she was strong enough physically to take on the slayer, despite him being a good six inches taller than her and solidly built, like a warrior. Jade was hardly a shrinking violet.
Without warning, Toran unsheathed his sword and took a swipe at her—from a distance so as to not make contact with her. But her delayed response was enough to prove he could hav
e significantly injured her if he’d wanted to.
He engaged again, with the same result.
She sighed.
He shook his head.
Perhaps her assessment had been wrong moments ago…
“You’re too slow, Jade. You think too much. You don’t let your instincts guide you.”
“Where do we start?”
“With your footwork. But keep your sword in your hand so you get used to the weight. Then we’ll do some exercises to build more muscle tone and help with your agility.”
They agreed to meet three days a week, at varying intervals, when Toran wasn’t on patrol. In addition to the workouts, they discussed human-demon politics. Toran admitted to not enjoying that part of his charge, which intrigued Jade and gave her even more to think about when it came to her station within the village.
At her cottage, she practiced what he taught her. Between the physical exertion, the political debates and her nights at the tavern, she slept more soundly than she had since her parents had passed.
Visions of Davian offered her company, but also taunted her with a union that could never be. Still, his mission to maintain peace became her own, as did the desire to help her friends and neighbors feel secure when they lived in such close proximity to potential danger.
If other demons like the fire wraith continued to rise up and one of them actually did accomplish an assassination, everything would change. The humans would be at the demons’ mercy again. She worried about that constantly and wondered how best to prepare for such a scenario. If it was even possible to prepare for something so insidious…
Jade’s birthday fell on the first Sunday in December. Though she didn’t celebrate, she wasn’t surprised by the knock on her door that evening.
Opening it, she let out a soft laugh. “I simply cannot convince you to ignore this date.”
Michael smiled. “I didn’t bring a gift. Just a bottle of wine.” She stepped back to allow him inside, but something caught his attention and his friendly grin instantly faded. “What is that?” he asked as he brushed aside the material of her sweater at her throat, where the top button was undone.
Jade flinched. Michael’s eyes popped. “Jesus Christ,” he said. “Those are diamonds!” Not a common stone for a villager to possess.
Closing the door behind them, Jade said, “Please don’t make a big deal out of this.”
“Really?” He huffed as he set the bottle of merlot on an end table, given that her sword occupied the coffee table. His gaze landed on the weapon, and Michael raked a hand through his hair. “What is going on with you, Jade?”
With a dramatic sigh, she said, “Nothing. Toran gave me the sword.”
He spied an object under the chair by the window and knelt to retrieve it. Holding up half of a tapered candle, he deduced, “And you’ve been practicing with it.”
“That’s where that went.” She’d accidentally lopped off the top of the candle in its holder when she’d lost her balance the other day.
Standing, he handed her the remnant and then crossed his arms over his chest. “And what about the necklace? I’m pretty sure Toran didn’t give that to you.”
“No, of course not.” She dropped the candle in the box from the wax maker’s shop.
Turning back to Michael, she found him awaiting her response, crooked brow and all.
“It’s just a necklace,” she said, in hopes of making light of the situation. She’d been wearing the piece of jewelry most of the day and hadn’t thought to remove it when she’d opened the door to find Michael standing on her patio.
“That is not just a necklace. And no human we know could afford one that ostentatious. Not even a Delfino.”
Frustration tinged her voice as she told him, “You know where it came from. Now let it go.”
“Jade.” He stared at her with an incredulous look on his handsome face. “Seriously? You and the Demon King?” He said those last two words in the same disbelieving tone she’d used at the meeting hall when she’d challenged Davian’s explanation of Jinx’s death—and had found it inconceivable the psychic had struck up an amiable association with a vampire. In light of recent events, she no longer considered the possibility so far-fetched.
Still, she told Michael, “It’s not what you think.”
His sharp laugh filled the small cottage. Unfolding his arms and raising them in the air, he asked, “What else could it be? You disappear into the castle for a couple of nights and then I see something strange in your eyes, as though you have this enormous secret you’re enjoying keeping to yourself. Now you’re wearing a necklace that probably costs more than all the villages on this continent and everything within them.”
“Get over it, Michael. The necklace is only a temporary gift.”
This took him aback. “How so?”
“Because my life is only temporary. He’ll return for this someday.”
Michael’s dark-brown gaze turned shrouded with emotions she couldn’t read. “What kind of sick and twisted game is this?”
“It’s not a game. It’s a human reality.”
He stared at her for several suspended seconds, clearly stunned and befuddled. Eventually, Michael asked, “Is he in love with you?”
“I don’t know.” She turned away. If he was, that would delight her. If he wasn’t, that would be a relief. Her life of contradictions continued.
“Are you in love with him?” Michael demanded in a quiet voice.
Her teeth caught her bottom lip before she made any careless proclamations. Rather, she wanted to think about her answer. These questions weren’t ones she’d posed to herself out of respect for her own sanity. And because it was futile to ponder any likelihoods. Why waste so much mental energy on debating a moot point?
Facing Michael, she said, “I can’t define the relationship. I haven’t even seen him in weeks. He refuses to return to Ryleigh because he believes he’ll put me in danger.”
“So why give you the necklace? To remind you that you belong to him now, despite the fact that you can’t be together? Isn’t that…cruel, Jade?”
“You don’t understand.”
“No, I don’t.” His temper flared again and anger flashed in his eyes. “What are you doing all damn day, Jade? Wearing around the cottage a gift you can’t show to anyone else, while you pine after someone you can’t have? A demon. And not just any demon. Oh, no. You had to go and choose the king of all demons.”
Her own agitation percolated. “I didn’t choose anything, Michael. It just happened. From the moment I saw him.”
She didn’t bother mentioning the dream. He’d never grasp the connection she shared with Davian.
“Look, you can think I’m a complete idiot,” she offered. “That’s fine. I’ve felt that way myself a time or two lately. But the fact remains that something exists between us. I can’t explain it. I don’t even think Davian can explain it. All I know is that—”
“Wait,” he lifted his hand to cut her off. “Davian?”
Her sigh sounded decidedly long-suffering. “That is his name.”
“You’re on a first name basis with the Demon King. I can’t believe this!” he bellowed.
“Let’s drop the subject and drink the wine.” Anything to keep the peace between her and her best friend.
Yet Michael’s head jerked to the side in protest. “What else, Jade? You had to have done something to motivate him to give you all those diamonds.”
Her teeth ground. “Don’t push me, Michael.”
“Are you sleeping with him?”
“No!” He hadn’t been in her bed for almost a month, after all.
“Let me rephrase that. Did you fuck him?”
Now it was Jade’s fury that exploded. Her arm snapped up and she pointed to the door. “Get out.”
“This is serious, Jade.”
“Get. Out!”
He stalked to the door as she glared after him. She wouldn’t allow Michael—or anyone—to demean or belittl
e her relationship with Davian. Or make it seem tawdry. She had honest, soul-deep feelings for the king. And while they were difficult to reconcile, they weren’t crude or false. They sure as hell weren’t transient.
Before leaving, Michael said, “Think about what you’ve gotten yourself into, Jade. It could turn out disastrously for you.”
She wanted to throw something at the door he closed behind him, but the indisputable fact was that he was right. She continued to fume over the situation when it dawned on her that Michael shouldn’t be this far outside the village on his own. Grabbing her weapon, she raced out of the cottage.
“Michael, wait!” she insisted. “Let me get my coat and I’ll walk with you.” He didn’t slow down. “Michael! You stubborn ass—”
A sudden burst of flames made them both jump back. But Jade immediately regained her footing, thanks to her work with Toran. She rushed forward as the fire wraith appeared and lit the dark night. His horse galloped toward Michael, sending snow flying in every direction. The menacing poltergeist chilled her straight to the bone.
“Move!” she screamed at Michael.
The wraith’s mammoth beast was much too quick, though. The horse charged and its shoulder clipped Michael as it whizzed past him, hurling him to the ground with a sharp yelp of pain.
“Michael!”
Jade couldn’t get to him because the horse surged onward, heading toward her, its nostrils flaring and foam dripping from its bared teeth. She lifted the sword with both hands, prepared to fight. But a fireball expelled from the demon’s mouth and erupted against the tip. Searing heat surged down the blade to the hilt.
Jade cried out from the burn she received and dropped the sword. She fell to her knees and pressed her hands against the snow as agony lanced through her.
