Chapter Three

 

 

Around eight a.m., a very disturbed Jade headed toward the village library, carefully carrying two mugs of piping hot coffee from the shop on the corner. Extra-large, since she’d gotten little sleep after her errant dream and the discovery of the tracks outside her house. Even the twin climaxes hadn’t helped to relax her.

She pushed the door open with her shoulder and entered the small establishment.

Lisette Bordeaux sat at a desk made of knotty pine and glanced up from the book she’d been reading. “You’re early.”

“I was tired of pacing the cottage. I nearly wore the floorboards out.” She set the cups on the desk and slipped out of her jacket.

Lisette asked, “What are you so pensive about? You look as though you’ve seen a ghost.”

“Not seen,” Jade deadpanned as she sank into the oversized lounging chair across from her friend. “Followed by.”

Lisette’s homely face fell. She snapped the book shut. “A wraith?” Alarm tinged her usually soft voice. “One of the king’s?”

“Do you know of any others that would haunt our woods?”

“Oh, dear,” the older woman said as she patted her gray bun and then placed her hand over her fleshy neck, as though in distress.

Lisette was pushing seventy, but was still agile and quite healthy. She’d been in her mid-thirties when the Demon War had flared up and she’d regaled Jade on numerous occasions with stories of pre-war life.

Aside from the technology that sounded too good to be true, there had been luxury cruise ships and Dreamliner airplanes. Movie theaters, concert halls, casinos, resorts and restaurants of every variety—all of which she’d described in great detail.

Most of all, there’d been freedom. Something Lisette had lost more so than anyone else in the village, including the other elders who’d lived in the time of the mortals’ reign.

With the Demon King restricting her reading materials and legally binding her use of magical powers, Lisette was nothing more than a caretaker of historical books and the narrator of a world yet to be rebuilt.

What Jade found most interesting about Lisette’s wealth of information was that very few people in the village took advantage of the ideas and innovations of which she spoke or those contained within the pages of the resource volumes on the shelves. As though no one wanted to remember or believe in the way humans had lived not more than thirty-five years ago.

Had this been a bookstore, Lisette would have surely been out of business her first week.

“Tell me why you would be followed,” she coaxed, her shrewd, light-brown eyes narrowing on Jade. “Have you done anything wrong?”

“Of course not,” Jade replied, indignant. “I do what everyone else does. I get up in the morning, I take care of some chores, wash myself and my clothes, eat a meal or two and then go to work. I come home, sleep and repeat the process the next day. On Sundays, I read books. Pretty simple stuff.”

Naturally, she refrained from adding fantasizing to her agenda. She didn’t want to think of last night’s “romantic interlude.” It had been too real, too potent. The emotional and physical lure had been too strong not to bite on it. One of the reasons she’d lost so much sleep the previous evening.

“Have you said anything?” Lisette leaned toward her, regarding her quizzically.

“What could I possibly have to say that hasn’t already been said by someone in this community?” She threw her hands up in the air. “Let’s face it, there’s very little left to talk about, except to debate how best to grow vegetables and herbs inside during the winter months.”

They canned and pickled the majority of necessities. Meat had been scarce, she’d heard, in the early years, but had become more abundant with the return of wildlife.

“Hmm.” Lisette shifted in her chair, settling more comfortably before reaching for her coffee. She took a sip, then said, “How many immortals had you crossed paths with before you realized you were under surveillance?”

Jade thought back a month or two. “I’ve yet to see a vampire, that I’m aware of, since they reportedly keep to the castle where there’s plenty of sustenance stored up from the war.”

She shuddered to think the preserved blood of her ancestors fed them.

Continuing, Jade added, “I’ve noticed three shifters along some of the trails of late, on different occasions—one bobcat, two wolves. Abnormally sized, so they were easy to pinpoint. And I’ve seen demons in the village. Several of them, again during varying intervals. Never more than two at a time, per the king’s rule. I’m not good at identifying their exact species—I gave up on that long ago and now basically lump all of the damned into one demonic category.”

Lisette seemed to take this under consideration, then asked, “Any interactions with them?”

“No, but…they always stare intently at me. Even if I’m just passing by.” She thought of the horned demons in particular. “They seem perplexed. Almost skeptical of me.”

“Questioning something about you,” the witch mumbled as her eyelids drifted closed.

“Lisette!” Jade cried, instantly panicked. “No magic!”

The older woman’s lids fluttered open and she sighed dramatically. “How else do you expect me to tap into their mystical realm and find out what motivation there would be to keep tabs on you?”

“Do not use your magic, Lisette,” Jade said in a slow, measured tone. “If the Demon King were to find out—”

“Oh, pish-posh.” She gave a dismissive wave of her wrinkled, translucent-skinned hand. “I’m not getting any younger. Let him punish me. He can’t strip my powers from me.”

“But he can imprison you, damn it, so lay off,” Jade asserted. “I don’t want you getting into trouble because of me. Something’s brewing and I’m going to start snooping around myself to find out what.”

“Now, Jade, don’t go doing anything—”

The door to the library swung open with vigor and made a resounding thud as it slammed against the adjacent wall.

Jade’s anxiety spiked over fear Lisette had just been singled out by the king’s master of arms for her potential criminal activity. Her head whipped in the direction of the intruder.

She released a breath of relief as she stared at Max Kincaid, the town butcher. A flurry of snow blew in with him.

“Thank God,” she muttered, willing her erratic pulse to slow.

Unfortunately, there was no chance of that because Max’s voice was edged with dismay as he tersely said, “Come to the town hall, immediately. Something terrible has happened.”

He was out the door in the next moment, not bothering to close it.

Jade turned back to an equally stricken Lisette. “What do you suppose that’s all about?”

“I don’t know,” the witch said. Then reticently added, “But something tells me it will eventually come around to involving you.”

Jade’s stomach roiled. “Please don’t say that.”

Lisette stood. She left her desk and headed toward the coatrack in the corner. While bundling up, she reminded Jade, “We don’t have a lot of coincidences or intrigues in this village. If you’re being watched, it probably has something to do with whatever Max is spouting off about.”

Jade promptly thought of Michael. Her stalker had seen them together, in a near compromising position. What if he’d gone after Michael and that was why she hadn’t sensed the predator’s presence until much later, after her dream?

Her heart hammered in her chest. Jade raced outside and rushed toward the hall—which doubled as a spiritual gathering place on Sundays—leaving Lisette behind. Jade knew her friend would have ample company as the villagers closed their shops and made their way to the meeting place.

Jade stormed into the entryway with apologies as she nudged past the growing conglomeration and then burst into the open common area. Mismatched seating was always arranged to receive the populace of a hundred or so and Jade hurried down the main aisle. In front of the courtroom setup was a table with two upholstered chairs. The slayers sat there, arms folded over their chests as they waited for the others to file in.

Moving forward, Jade flattened her palms on the wooden surface and leaned toward them, quietly demanding, “What’s happened?”

“Now, Jade,” Walker Marks said in a gruff tone, the long, thin battle scars on his face appearing starker than usual against his ruddy skin. “You’ll have to wait to hear the news when we announce it.”

Frayed nerves spurred her on. “This has something to do with the demons, doesn’t it?”

“Jade,” said Toran Monroe. At thirty, he was the younger of the two slayers. “Don’t create mass hysteria. Sit. Wait. Listen.” When she didn’t budge, he urged, “Please.”

She brimmed with frustration and felt sufficiently frantic, but Jade straightened and spun around. Her gaze landed on Michael and she heaved another sigh of relief. Hurrying over to him, she grabbed him by the hands and squeezed tight. “I am so happy to see you. I was afraid you might have been under further observation last night.”

“Not that I’m aware of,” he told her. His expression was as grave as hers likely was. “We don’t have impromptu meetings unless something catastrophic has happened. What do you know?”

“Nothing. Neither Walker nor Toran will tell me anything.”

She was probably the only one in the village who could insist they share their information with her, given that she was the daughter of the man designated leader of Ryleigh when he’d established the municipality of survivors. However, after her father’s death, the slayers—at that time being Walker and Toran’s uncle—had stepped in to govern the people.

She often wondered if it was her destiny to fill her father’s shoes. But then she questioned what the point would be, given the tyranny under which they lived. What difference could she possibly make?

Michael directed her to the chairs they traditionally occupied in the second row on the right, behind the eldest members of the community. She stripped off her jacket, knowing all the bodies gathered in the hall and the blaze in the two fireplaces would be adequate in warming her. Too much so, perhaps, since she wore a thick sweater, pants and boots, all in black.

Lisette joined them, as always, even though she held a place with the elders in the front row. There weren’t many of them left and they were, on whole, a stodgy group. Jade knew Lisette preferred the vitality of youth and therefore hunkered down with her and Michael.

With her knee bouncing from nervous anxiety, Jade said, “The suspense is going to kill me.”

Michael draped an arm over the back of her chair, an unexpected move. He placed his other hand on her vibrating knee to still it. “Relax, will you?” His placating tone seemed forced. He was as disturbed as she was, but apparently he fought to control his emotions while hers ran rampant. “It could be something as minimal as a new curfew.”

The friendly touch on her leg and his soothing voice didn’t offer enough serenity. “Yeah,” she wryly quipped, “and post-war children believe in the ridiculous notion of the Tooth Fairy and the Easter Bunny.”

“Hey, I remember when your dad had you sold on Santa Claus.”

She winced. They didn’t speak of their families. Neither one enjoyed rehashing the travesties of the past. Though admittedly, Michael had her on this one.

“How can you not love the idea of a jolly old man who washes down sugar cookies with a big glass of milk and has a belly that shakes like a bowl full of jelly?”

Michael chuckled, low and deep, making her less preoccupied with all the dark drama of late—including that red-hot dream she’d had about a man she’d never seen. One she didn’t even know.

Once the townsfolk had all settled in, both of the slayers at the front of the room stood.

The noise, however, did not dissipate. The concern over an emergency session had gotten the best of everyone, not just Jade. The speculation and anticipation permeated the room, creating a loud din Walker Marks wasn’t able to contain with the mere gesturing of his hand for order. Several moments slid by and Jade was on her feet.

“Stop!” she called out. “Everyone stop talking!”

The conversations instantly died. Jade glanced around the cavernous hall, the residents of Ryleigh staring expectantly at her. As though she truly were the prime authoritarian of the village.

She mentally reminded herself that she was not.

Following a brisk, “Thank you,” she returned to her seat.

“Nice work, Jade,” Toran mumbled.

“We’re here this morning because there’s been an accident.” Walker cut right to the chase. “I don’t want you to panic or read anything into it. Let us share the facts with you and please don’t interrupt.”

He gave Jade a keen look. She shrugged a shoulder. No promises.

Toran said, “I found a body on my patrol early this morning.”

Voices erupted once more, drowning out the slayers. Jade stood. This time, her mere presence quelled the racket—without her saying a word.

When there was absolute quiet, she turned to Toran and demanded, “Human or demon?”

“Human.”

Again with the public uproar, until Jade lifted her hand to silence everyone.

“Who?” she asked, her tone deceptively calm to mask the raw intensity taking hold of her.

Walker shifted uncomfortably on his booted feet and exchanged a look with his colleague.

“Damn it, Walker,” Jade said, her composure slipping. “Who? Who’s dead?”

Walker groaned.

Jade’s patience wore thin. “Walker!”

“Jinx,” the older man blurted. “It’s…Jinx.”

Jade’s heart stammered. Her mind reeled for several suspended seconds as she tried to process his words—and fight the sudden threat of tears. Then she whispered a sharp, “No.”

“Regrettably, it’s true,” the slayer continued. “Toran found him in the south woods. The king has already been alerted.”

“You said this was an accident,” Jade reiterated on a quavering breath as she waded through muddled thoughts and her shocked disbelief. Pain swelled swiftly within her, tightening her throat almost to the degree of choking her. “Why would the king need to know about this?”

“Because,” Toran said in a disconcerted tone. “It was a demon who inadvertently killed Jinx.”

Another outburst so that Jade’s head started to throb. Tremors raced through her over this horrific news. She blindly reached for Michael and he was hastily at her side, his palm splaying along the small of her back, the other hand clasping her shoulder to help steady her.

Walker and Toran attempted to subdue the distressed crowd. Jade barely heard anything over the raging of her pulse in her ears. And the shredding of her heart over losing Jinx. He’d been like a great-uncle to her. A funny, carefree spirit who told zany fortunes when one felt blue and always had a smile on his face, no matter how grim things seemed.

It took great effort, but Jade tamped down her emotions, as she always did when her feelings became unbearable.

Stepping away from Michael and into the aisle, her voice rose again as she asked the slayers, “What did the Demon King say of this?” She couldn’t bring herself to utter the word accident. It grotesquely ridiculed the very existence of their village.

The commotion tapered off as Toran said, “He’s deeply concerned. He is the one, after all, who’s advocated so strongly for peace. He questioned the vampire that attacked Jinx and, apparently, the two had struck up an experimental relationship some time ago.”

“Really?” Jade challenged. She didn’t just choose to focus on the insidious implications hovering in the air, rather than the tragic passing of a beloved man. She had to shift gears—an inherent survival tactic so she didn’t become so mired in her torment that she couldn’t even think straight. Couldn’t function. She tilted her chin as she pressed on. “Jinx and a vampire became friends? We’re supposed to accept that as an explanation?”

“He was trying his hand at predicting the future of an immortal,” Walker contended. “To see if he could do it.”

“He was bored with us and needed a more fascinating conquest?” Jade planted her hands on her hips. This had to be a fabrication concocted by the Demon King to pacify the townsfolk.

With a grieved sigh, Toran told her, “We can’t presume to know what Jinx was thinking, Jade. All we know is that they’d met several times before. Last night, Jinx decided to hypnotize the vampire. It had the opposite effect than what he’d anticipated—not a look into the future, but a jolt into the past.”

Walker said, “When tapping into the vamp’s subconscious mind, Jinx inadvertently triggered memories of the war. Though in a trance, the vampire sensed Jinx’s human presence and pounced, because he thought he was back in time, amid the attacks.”

Jade’s fury burned through her veins. “And the king bought this flimsy excuse?” she retorted.

“He investigated,” Walker announced. “Thoroughly. It’s quite evident the king is troubled by this tumultuous event. He has no intention of letting something disrupt the regulations he has vowed to uphold and he therefore—”

“Let me tell you about the king’s vows, regulations, decrees—whatever the hell you want to call them,” Jade interjected, her voice gaining strength as the stakes hitched. She turned to address the villagers and revealed her own truth. “They hold no weight. The sanctions have been violated. With Jinx, certainly and undisputedly. But also with me. Perhaps with some of you.” Her gaze slid to Michael.

“Jade,” Toran growled in warning of her treason against a kingdom that could incarcerate her—or worse—as he lunged forward and grabbed her arm.

Michael moved in, taking a protective stance.

“Release her,” came a deep, commanding voice from the back of the room. A man stood, coming to her defense in such a quiet, imposing fashion that even Michael paused.

The stranger was dressed all in black, his cloak covering his body, the hood pulled over his head, casting shadows across his face. All Jade could see of him was that he was a mountain of a man—possibly six-foot-five or -six—broad-shouldered, with glowing amber eyes.

Toran’s grip on her arm loosened and Jade ripped away from his grasp. Her gaze locked with the covert newcomer’s. There was a familiar air about him that sent tingles of the forbidden along her spine. Ignited her insides. Tightened her nipples.

All alarming sensations.

“Who are you?” she dared to ask in a near breathless voice.

The man peeled back his hood to reveal a devilishly handsome face. A chiseled-to-perfection visage, with a hard-set jaw and well-proportioned lips, not too thick, not too thin.

It was a face she’d never seen before, not even in her dream, because it had been buried in the mass of her hair as his mouth and tongue had swept over her neck, teasing her senseless with his intimate touch and gentle biting.

But she knew those onyx locks of his as well as she knew his voice. The luxurious strands enticed her, reminding her of how she’d tangled her fingers in them as he sank into her, thrusting confidently, claiming her mercilessly, knowing every responsive inch of her body regardless of having never laid a hand on her in reality.

The air rushed from her lungs as realization dawned and instinct told her exactly who he was. A hot flash of awareness made her skin sizzle, but Jade stood her ground.

Her eyes still on him, she murmured, “King Davian.”

Surprise rippled through the crowd. Then the villagers slipped from their chairs and bent on one knee to bow at his feet. Even the slayers and Michael paid homage.

Jade did not.

She was the only one to remain standing, and the flicker in the king’s hypnotic eyes told her he was both impressed by her unwavering constitution, yet annoyed by her insolence.

To appease him without giving up her strategic positioning, she nodded reverently at him.

One corner of his mouth lifted in a suggestive smirk, then quickly dropped. With a gloved hand, he gestured for the congregation to return to their seats. When the upheaval dimmed, he stepped into the aisle and took three long strides toward Jade; though he was still several feet away, maintaining a respectable distance.

With a demanding look, he said, “Please, explain why you believe I’ve broken all the regulations I’ve put into place in order to preserve peace in this region.”

Jade pulled in a ragged breath, then let it out slowly.

Not only was the king the largest and strongest-looking man she’d ever laid eyes on, he was also the most mesmerizing. And visions of him doing naughty things to her would absolutely not leave her mind. It was almost impossible for her to concentrate, especially with every nerve ending reacting so innately to him. His close proximity sparked all the unexpected, intense sensations from the previous evening, causing her pussy to clench as it pulsed radiantly—and traitorously—with need and desire.

But she found the moxie—from Lord only knew where—to forge on.

Squaring her shoulders, she said, “At least one, perhaps more, of your wraiths have tracked me for over a month. Stalking me. Which is, by your own proclamation, illegal. Correct?”

“Yes.”

His simple answer infuriated Jade, as though he gave no credence to her accusation. And accurate verdict.

Because she was a mere mortal?

Resisting the urge to grind her teeth, she added, “I’ve been followed through the forest on numerous occasions. Last night, someone on horseback watched me as I left the tavern where I work. Now Jinx is dead by a demon attack and I think you may as well lay your cards on the table and tell us whether or not we’re on the verge of another war.”

The villagers gasped and fretted. Rightfully so.

The king’s tolerance with Jade wilted on the vine.

“There will be no more war,” he said in a steely tone. “I’ve given my oath and I will stick by it. As for what happened with your friend Jinx…” His gaze narrowed on Jade. “I did not interrogate lightly, I assure you. And after hours of recounting the incident in the south woods, I’ve concluded the event truly was an accident. Tragic, certainly. But an accident nonetheless. The experiments were a risk your human friend was willing to take.”

“And what of the vampire who killed him?” Jade’s voice softened as she thought of Jinx. Tears pricked the backs of her eyes once more at the notion she’d never see his bright smile again. Conversely, her fists balled at her sides from the anger coursing through her.

“He’s remorseful.” The king’s expression turned humble as he took a few steps closer and murmured, “As am I.”

His dark, masculine scent wafted under her nose. An earthy aroma so alluring, it pebbled her nipples tighter, making her extremely uncomfortable. Yet she wouldn’t show her weakness for him…or his magnificent physique and soul-stirring eyes.

“That’s supposed to mollify us?” she asked. “Comfort us?”

Where her bravado at this moment came from, she didn’t know. Except she’d never kowtowed to anyone when an injustice was done.

Granted, this wasn’t some minor scuffle she’d dealt with on occasion at the tavern over whose turn it was to buy the next round or who’d allegedly won a game of darts. Or who’d shortchanged another at the farmer’s market.

This was deathly serious and she was standing toe-to-toe with a man who could have her in chains and locked in a cell with nothing more than a nod of his head. But her heartbreak over Jinx’s murder and the blatant violation of protocols and codes of conduct had her irrational and willing to press further.

King Davian’s brow furrowed as he said, “Of course you’re not comforted by my sentiments.” His intent gaze on her did not falter, as though he tried to see deep within her. It unnerved Jade, particularly after that dream she’d had. “And I will punish him. I came here this morning to tell you as much. Everyone,” he corrected, giving a slight shake of his head to clear his mind from a trancelike state while he still stared so raptly at her. “To tell everyone.”

Jade found his faux pas disarming. For a man who had more power than God, he did not currently wield it in the tyrannical way she would expect. He was, in all honesty, an enigma. But she couldn’t get lost in his scintillating voice, piercing gaze and six-foot-something-inches of pure virility.

The proverbial ice beneath her feet was much too fragile. She couldn’t forget that.

Yet it did not keep her from inquiring, “What about me? What are you going to do about the fact that someone from your kingdom shadows me on almost a nightly basis?”

He took her in from the top of her head to the tip of her boots as he seemed to mentally debate his options. When his shimmering eyes met hers once more, he said, “That is a matter about which we will speak in private.”