Chapter Six

 

 

Captivity didn’t suit Jade well, but she had so much to mull over that two days passed as though in a matter of hours. She didn’t sleep much, her mind too preoccupied with the bizarre events of late. On occasion, she found it tempting to nap, just to see if Davian would keep his word about staying out of her dreams. Depressingly, he made good on his promise.

Her life had never been particularly full and satisfying following her parents’ deaths, but somehow, being in Davian’s presence—whether in reality or by way of a fantasy—sealed the hollow cracks and crevices. Being alone in her cottage tore them wide open again.

Loneliness was not a foreign feeling for Jade. She’d lived in the modest home by herself since she was eleven. There was no child protective legal system or group homes in the post-war days, so no one had whisked her away to a different shelter against her will.

Yes, the adults of the village had urged her to stay with them and their families. But she’d had no desire to leave this house and all the memories she’d collected in her youth. She felt closer to her parents here and she cherished the quaint cottage.

Above all else, she found a degree of strength in knowing she’d practically raised herself and possessed the spirit and determination to be accountable for her own actions and needs. Well, most of them, anyway. One elusive yearning could not be sated by anyone other than the Demon King.

She sighed as she tossed another log on the fire, which had dimmed as she’d pondered her tumultuous existence. Admittedly, she enjoyed her friendships and she loved reading about civilization before the war. But she’d always felt something was missing. Several somethings, actually. Her place in the new world. A significant connection to someone.

As much as she adored Michael, he was not the man for her. Not after everything she’d just experienced—shared—with Davian.

Yet the almighty Demon King wasn’t a viable option for a companion either, and he proved he felt the same way by steering clear of her. It was the slayers who checked on her and gave status reports. Not the king. Not even his general.

Davian’s glowing amber eyes and incredible physique—his sizzling kisses and deep, masterful thrusts into her body—were insanely difficult to push from her mind, regardless of the multitude of times she told herself there was no point in replaying every single second with him, dating back to that night outside the tavern. Making her current solitary confinement even more disconcerting.

She poked at the fire with little enthusiasm. The log was much too big and she’d all but snuffed out the flame. As thick streams of smoke ribboned in the hearth, the distinct snapping of branches out back sent a jolt of fright through her.

Her gaze flashed to the windows that overlooked the river. But only for a moment. The wood in her fireplace suddenly exploded into a raging blaze that caused the abundant flames to lick the outer edges of the stone hearth.

Jade cried out and jumped back. But instinct kicked in and she lunged for the pot of water she kept in the corner for fire emergencies. Gripping the container, she dumped the liquid on the inferno, instantly extinguishing it.

She fought the panic that seized her. Losing her cottage was her biggest fear of all, for with it, the tangible reminder of her life with her parents would incinerate as well.

Jade attempted to compose herself, but a movement out of the corner of her eye snagged her attention. Once more, she turned toward the windows at the back of the house and a heartbeat later, a ghastly apparition appeared before her eyes—a wraith draped in a cloak as dark as the night, but with the edges of it lit by flames, burning all around him.

Another shriek fell from her parted lips.

A fire wraith?!

She’d only heard about them from her father—no one else had conceded they existed, not even the slayers.

The demon’s sockets blazed where there should have been eyes. When he opened his mouth and fire spewed forth, she let out a full-on scream. Terror tore through her, but she managed to propel herself into action.

“Not my house!” she yelled. Then she bolted for the front door.

She only wore gray drawstring pants, a knit sweater and her slippers. The biting air nearly froze her to the core of her being, but she was desperate to pull the wraith from the close proximity of her home so he didn’t burn it to the ground. She raced along the bank of the river, hearing the pounding of horse hooves behind her. Jade knew they didn’t belong to the Demon King or his general, but to the poltergeist that hunted her.

“Davian!” she called out—in hopes he was near by—just as the horse and its ghostly rider descended upon her.

She stole a glance over her shoulder. The animal reared. Jade screamed again. Then one of the beast’s legs connected with her back, slamming her face-first to the snow-covered earth and knocking the wind from her. White-hot agony lanced through her body, making it impossible to haul herself up. Sprawled on the ground, she tried to concentrate on breathing. Urged herself to crawl away.

Fire erupted beside her, igniting the trees and appearing to reach all the way up to the inky sky. The stallion drew back on his hind legs again. Jade had no time—nor the strength—to react. The horse came down hard, making contact with her left wrist and hand, crushing the bones.

The sound of her suffering reverberated all around her as she wailed. The excruciating pain shot through her, stealing her breath and plunging her mind into a dark abyss so that she couldn’t think or force herself to move.

She lay in the thick snow, with more flakes falling on her as she gasped for even the thinnest slice of air. Her eyelids squeezed shut and she willed herself to begin the healing process, but the raw sensations held her hostage so that she couldn’t focus on anything other than the crippling shockwaves.

Above the pulse ringing in her ears, she heard the thundering approach of another rider and the neigh of his horse, followed by the unsheathing of swords and the clanging of metal. She no longer possessed the ability to open her eyes and see who had come to her rescue. Instead, she put her faith in whoever it was and willed herself to rise above the pain and repair her spine so she could pull in a full breath without it feeling as though everything inside of her had shattered into a million jagged shards.

The sword fight continued for some time, and then she heard a blade bang against a boulder and an animal’s shrill whinny, though it wasn’t the same sound she’d heard minutes before.

Not the same horse.

It was the wraith’s beast that was injured.

Moments later, someone fell to his knees beside her.

“Jade.” It was the Demon King, obviously the victor as the defeated wraith on the horse rode off.

Mustering the vigor to open her eyes for the king, though only capable of half-mast, she peered up at Davian, grateful to see him. Unfortunately, his tormented gaze made her heart hurt—as traumatizing as all the other sensations.

“Don’t move. Don’t speak.” He quickly slipped out of his cloak and carefully laid it over her body.

Another rider joined him—Morgan. He said, “It was a fire wraith, my Lord. You have his weapon now and his steed is wounded. But he’ll come back with a new sword and a healthy horse.”

“He wasn’t intent on killing her,” Davian deduced. “Just injuring her enough to draw me out. To—” He shook his head as rage flared in his eyes. “To bait me.”

“Yes. He must have realized your interest in Jade when we began our surveillance, perhaps thinking we knew he tracked her and were protecting her from the onset.”

“Damn it!” Davian’s fist clenched, then released. He swept his fingers over Jade’s cheek where tears and melted snowflakes left it wet and frigid from the autumn air. “We have to get her to the castle.”

He gingerly rolled her onto her back and scooped her up in his arms, then stood in a fluid movement. Despite his grace and gentle care, she let out another cry and her body shook violently.

“Sorry,” he whispered in a tight voice. “Just hang on.”

“Let me take her while you mount,” Morgan said.

Davian stared down at her. She couldn’t nod; could do no more than blink—and pray he was able to decipher her code.

“All right,” he murmured. And handed her over to Morgan.

Davian climbed onto the Arabian’s back. The general delicately passed Jade to him and Davian was strong and big enough to whisk her upward and cradle her against his body as she huddled in his lap. His heat was a welcomed relief, though her teeth still chattered. Her breath came in shallow pants because she was unable to slow it with the sharp stabs and throbbing she felt. And the biting cold.

With one arm around her and the other hand grasping the reins, he said, “Your lips are turning blue and you’re trembling. Stay conscious so you can heal.”

Trying. She couldn’t even utter the word.

Davian jerked on the reins and his Arabian took off, galloping through the snow, crossing the arched bridge and then speedily navigating the thick forest before ascending the steep hill that led to the ridge on which the castle sat.

Jade’s lids dipped slightly as she and Davian entered the kingdom through the enormous gates of the castle’s courtyard, though she did everything she could to stay alert. Morgan was right behind them and he helped her down so Davian could dismount. Then she was in the king’s arms again and he carried her inside, the general at his heels.

“Have the vampires leave the castle until further notice,” Davian instructed. “She’s wary of them. And send patrols along the village perimeter in the event the fire wraith returns.”

“My Lord,” came Morgan’s clipped acquiescence and he peeled off to do as bade.

Jade snuggled against the king’s wide chest, heat oozing from his physical exertion and possibly his worry over her. His internal temperature defied the inclement weather and was a tremendous comfort to her.

He took her deeper into the elaborate mansion. The pain in her hand and wrist was still horrendous, but her spine felt better.

Regardless of her being in his arms, he was able to take the grand staircase two steps at a time. His long stride had them crossing the landing and rushing down a huge corridor so quickly, she barely had a chance to take in her surroundings.

With a swift kick to the double doors, causing them to fly open, he surged into an enormous room that looked to be a study.

“My Lord?” a woman’s voice called out in surprise.

Jade flinched. He had a wife? A girlfriend? A bedmate?

“Don’t worry,” Davian said, as though he’d read her thoughts. She wondered if he had. “Sheena is my assistant. She’s a vampire, but she won’t harm you.” He turned his head and said to the woman who suddenly appeared at his side and matched his pace, “Spend the night elsewhere, Sheena.”

She sniffed the air, picking up Jade’s scent, then glared at him. “You think I can’t handle myself with a human?” Her indignation was amplified by her elegant British accent.

“She’s bleeding. Badly. Bones protruding from the skin.”

“I’ll get water and towels.”

“Sheena,” he said in apparent warning.

“If you doubt my loyalty to you, your Majesty, you may as well sever my employment now.”

He sighed. “I don’t doubt you. I just don’t want to push you past your comfort zone. I can manage.”

“Hmm. We’ll see about that.”

The redhead flashed ahead of them, with such haste and stealth it made Jade’s eyes cross. Sheena threw open another set of double doors and they entered a bedroom that was larger than Jade’s entire cottage and the property surrounding it. Davian set her gently on the humungous bed, keeping the cloak tucked around her body. Moving away from her for only a few moments, Jade’s savior stoked the fire until it glowed bright and warmed her.

Meanwhile, the vampire retreated to a sunken area with a marble floor that likely led to the bathroom.

Davian returned to her side and sat gingerly on the edge of the mattress, despite his size. “What can I do to help?”

Through clenched teeth as she tried to keep the horror from her voice because of his tormented look, she ground out, “Set the bones.”

He blew a sharp breath. “That’ll hurt like hell.”

“Yes,” she said, her tone strained. “But I can’t do it on my own. I can’t get past the pain I’m feeling right now to inflict more. I need you to do it for me.”

He jumped to his feet and paced alongside the bed. Sheena returned, placing a bowl of water and towels on the nightstand. Then she pulled back the cloak.

“Oh, dear.” She visually inspected the mangled hand.

Jade didn’t have to view the appendage to know how disastrous the sight was. In addition to feeling it, she could see the evidence of the damage in the vampire’s eyes. And in Davian’s.

“Please,” she pleaded with him. “Compound fractures won’t heal properly unless they’re in place. Just do it.”

“Shall I clean the wound first?” Sheena asked.

“No,” Davian was quick to stop her, though he didn’t explain Jade’s need to absorb the blood to help the process along.

“If I can make this work,” Jade said, “I’ll heal before I bleed to death.”

Looking befuddled, Sheena slipped to the side. Davian took the spot she’d vacated. He stared into Jade’s eyes, though she felt as though hers rolled in the sockets. She had difficulty focusing on him.

He said, “You told me you have to be able to rise above the pain in order to repair yourself.”

The vampire gasped. “A human who can heal as we do?”

Davian nodded. “She’s gifted. But,” he added as his gaze returned to Jade, “when I do this, you might not be able to stay conscious. That’ll slow your progress.”

“She needs a pain reliever,” Sheena suggested.

“And we have none,” he hissed, his tension getting the best of him. “Since we have no need.”

“Not true.” Sheena moved away, only to reappear in a matter of seconds. She offered Jade a glass of tawny liquid. “Scotch from his Royal Highness’s private stock. Guaranteed to soothe. He’s been self-medicating of late. I’ve seen the positive effects.”

“Thanks, Sheena,” he all but growled.

Somehow, Jade managed a shaky half-smile. “Serves you right for invading my dream.”

“You liked that dream,” he reminded her.

He helped her sit up as Sheena held the glass to her lips and Jade sipped. They took their time, letting her muscle through the burn down to her stomach. After which, her gulps became deeper and when she’d polished off the alcohol, the inferno dulled. Everything dulled, including the throbbing in her hand and wrist.

“Much better,” she said on a long breath. “Nice trick.”

Sheena swept from the room and Davian tenderly reached for Jade’s hand.

“Just try to push everything into position,” she directed. “The bones should retract and begin melding together.”

“Should?” he asked with a lifted brow.

“I don’t break bones as a rule. This is still new to me.”

He groaned. “I could be torturing you for no good reason?”

Had she the strength to lift her good hand, she would have brushed the lock of obsidian hair from his forehead and tried to smooth away the worry lines above his nose.

“You’ve been torturing me since you made love to me in an erotic vision. I haven’t been able to get it out of my head. Or that it was a one-time deal.”

“Jade…”

“Do it,” she insisted once more. “Please.”

He didn’t hesitate a moment longer. He clasped her hand with his large one and then used the other to shift the protruding bones. She screamed bloody murder. Davian didn’t let up, doing exactly as she’d requested.

When he was apparently satisfied with the placement, he sprang from the mattress and washed his hands in the basin Sheena had supplied, then dried them. He snatched the decanter of brandy his assistant had left behind. He refilled the glass and turned back to Jade, thrusting it toward her.

“No,” she said, her voice weak. “I had just enough to help me center on the healing.”

Though exhaustion crept around her consciousness. So too did the allure of an escape from the nearly debilitating slivers of pain shredding every inch of her.

Davian took large drinks from the tumbler—evidently needing that self-medicating again, given the agony she was in—before depositing it on the nightstand. He dragged a chair over and sat alongside her.

“What else can I do?”

“Nothing. I’m not going to be able to stay awake. I won’t heal much while I’m asleep, but resting will return some of my energy, so I can continue when I wake up.”

His gaze slid to her hand. “The blood flow has already slowed and it’s soaking into your skin.” He skimmed two fingers over her temple. “Are you warm enough?”

“Yes.”

He bent his head and kissed her softly. “If I could take all this misery away, I would.”

She attempted another smile. No go. Tears rolled down her flushed cheeks. “Don’t try to read my mind. It’ll hurt you more.”

“I’m not the one you should be concerned about.”

“Take a look in a mirror,” she muttered. “I know I look horrific, but so do you. Or, rather…haunted. Don’t attempt to project anything I feel onto yourself to minimize it for me, Davian. Promise me you won’t try.”

“It’s my fault you’re injured,” he said. “And there I was the other day, telling you I didn’t want your friend Michael to hurt you again. I’ve gone and done it myself.”

“You’re not to blame.”

“Yes, I am,” he whispered. His lips grazed her cheek, then her jaw. “I didn’t keep you safe.”

“I didn’t let you.”

He sighed. “This castle isn’t the home you love. I understand why you insisted on staying there, not here. But until you’re healed, please sleep in my bed.”

Honestly, there was no place she’d rather be while she recovered. Especially not alone and suffering in her cottage. But an unnerving thought flitted through her nearly numb brain. “The slayers will look for me. They’ll see the tracks and the blood in the snow and come to the castle for me. They’ll want to take me back.”

“Not until you’re well,” he murmured, his breath teasing her neck, soothing her. “Just get better. I’ll deal with everything else.”

Her eyelids closed once more and she couldn’t help but give into the drowsiness that consumed her. As she’d done earlier, she had to place her faith in the Demon King and believe no one would harm her while she was in his care. And hope she was right about her healing process—that it wouldn’t come to a grinding halt while she slept.

If so, she’d never wake up.

All hell would break loose for the slayers, Michael, the villagers…and the Demon King.