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 have 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 belittle 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.

Without giving her time to catch her breath, the horse lurched. The flames around the cloak of the wraith and in his eye sockets vanished. Clothed in black, he was impossible to see, save for the spindle-fingered, skeletal hand that shot out of a sleeve.

With a death grip on her upper arm, he hoisted her onto his steed and the horse raced through the woods, his thundering hooves reverberating all around them.

The demonic beast cut a path in the dense forest. Tree limbs and needles lashed Jade, slicing her skin open in large gashes and shredding her sweater as she tried to shield her face. Terror seized her soul as the horse wove its way through the dense foliage with such speed, the surroundings became a blur. She closed her eyes and continued to battle the branches tearing viciously at her flesh.

Finally, they broke free of the woods and she opened her eyes—to find herself covered in blood. The brutal sting of her injuries stole her breath. It was difficult for her to get her bearings, until they reached a clearing that lay before an abandoned, stone-walled church that had been built high above a concrete monument. The house of worship had been set ablaze when the first renegade demons attacked the village, shortly after it’d been established. Every human who’d sought refuge there that night had perished, trapped inside.

Jade’s pulse raged in her ears as she stared up at the remains of the church. Flagstone steps led to the scorched steeple. Despite them being hidden by drifts, the horse she involuntarily rode reared and then pitched forward, taking the treacherous stairs with her on its back and the wraith floating weightlessly behind her.

She clutched strands from the horse’s mane to keep from falling. When they reached the landing, she had but a moment to look out at the stretch of land that edged the river and the forest beyond, at the base of the ridge where Davian’s castle sat. She screamed for him.

A heartbeat later, the wraith threw her from the horse, tossing her to the stone floor. With the roof burnt, there was a bank of snow coating the hard surface to help break her fall. But her blood stained the pristine white.

Her face and arms were slashed and she tried to concentrate on healing them, but she had no time. The wraith’s fingers wrapped around her neck and he lifted her up, only to launch her across the span of the church where her backside crashed against the remainder of a decayed wall.

Jade’s strangled cry of agony pierced the quiet night as she slumped to the floor again. She felt the blood flow along her nape from a laceration at the base of her head. And from her shoulder blades to her tailbone, it seemed as though every inch of her had been beaten to a pulp.

The pain was nearly crippling, but she attempted to stand. The wraith was not done with her. He hauled her up one more time and slammed her onto a pew made of granite. On her back, with the wind knocked out of her, she couldn’t suck in a breath, much less scream. Until the wraith’s razor-sharp fingertips grazed her skin above her left breast, slicing it open.

A shrill, terror-laden sound erupted from deep within her. The demon hovered over her as he seemed to penetrate tissue in search of her heart. Her eyes crossed. The torturous onslaught was so unbearable, she couldn’t detect a single ounce of her that wasn’t burning or throbbing.

“Jade!”

She heard Davian’s voice in the distance. Too far off for him to help her. Yet she whispered his name.

Her eyelids became too heavy to manage and they closed. A tragic death was not one she’d permitted herself to think of, but somehow, it seemed befitting of the world in which she lived—and the trouble she’d invited into her life months ago.

The wraith’s hand moved from her chest, but she didn’t bother to open her eyes to see what he was up to next. She could barely breathe, let alone fight him off. She wheezed and sputtered, finding it impossible to focus on one particular injury to heal first. They were all too severe, the damage ravaging her straight to the core, it seemed.

However, when the fiery sensations suddenly came from outside her body, her eyes snapped open. The wraith had taken his flame-edged form. His blistering heat melted the snow around her, including the layer on the pew. The water boiled and she howled as it seared her skin through her sweater. Her body convulsed with violent seizures, causing her to fall off the bench.

“Jade!”

Over the ringing in her ears, she heard Davian’s voice again and the unsheathing of a sword. She carefully maneuvered onto her back, finding a patch of snow and a hint of relief on her scalded skin as the cold penetrated the material covering her.

“Focus on healing!”

Staring up at the sky, she realized she had no desire to do as the Demon King commanded. A few minutes more and she’d black out. She was certain she wouldn’t heal enough in her unconscious state to ever wake. There was too much destruction to her body and no way to concentrate on the individual wounds.

That was okay, she decided. Who the hell wanted to a live a life such as this, anyway? With all this trauma and despair…

Jade was about to close her eyes again, to simply give into the pain, when Davian insisted, “You’re stronger than this!”

It sounded as though he was across the church, by the steps. She even heard Thunder snort and whine. The heat cloaking the wraith had diminished, so she assumed the ghost had left her. Seconds later, she got her answer as she heard metal blades clashing—he now went after Davian.

Jade had absolute faith in the Demon King’s skill. He would prevail. Her eyelids dipped. It wouldn’t be much longer before she felt nothing at all. A feeling she suddenly welcomed.

Although… A nagging thought kept her from succumbing to unconsciousness. She didn’t know how Michael had fared—whether or not he was seriously wounded from his run-in with the wraith’s horse. And what if, by some chance, Davian didn’t win this battle? His kingdom might fall—and so too would Ryleigh. Other villages. More humans.

So much was at stake, she couldn’t help but force her lids open once more. She rolled her head to the side and watched through blurry and watery eyes as the fight ensued. She silently prayed Morgan would arrive. And the slayers. They had to have heard her screams piercing the still air.

Yet Davian was on his own with the fire wraith, meeting him blow for blow. Miraculously, with enough power behind his swings to back the ghastly apparition into a corner.

A hint of relief penetrated the darkness devouring her. The king would be fine. And the slayers had likely already found Michael. If he was hurt, they’d take him to the village doctor. He’d survive. She convinced herself of these things, and they provided a small measure of comfort.

As she was about to fade away, she saw a fireball similar to the one she’d witnessed earlier in the woods shoot out from the wraith’s mouth. As the case had been with her, the blaze exploded at the tip of Davian’s sword and bright red radiated all the way down the shaft, to the handle, which then glowed vibrantly despite its elaborate covering.

Davian kept his grip much longer than she had, and the wraith expelled a second fireball. This one proved to be too much for even the Demon King. He dropped his sword and let out a low snarl.

The fire wraith advanced on him with renewed vigor. Panic gripped Jade. She watched hopelessly as Davian lunged for his weapon, but couldn’t reach it before the wraith got close enough to singe him. Davian stumbled backward.

Pulling strength from somewhere beyond her comprehension, Jade managed to sit up. She focused all of her energy on—put every single thought into—lifting the sword.

She didn’t use her psychokinesis often, but her father had taught her to hone the skill. Jade had to push past her pain to concentrate on raising the object. No easy feat as excruciating sensations ripped through her, putting one more strain on her body. But this was a mental effort, not a physical one. She still had control over her mind, even though her limbs vibrated of their own accord, her entire body quaking.

With her gaze on the sword, she made it rise inches from the snow and moved it toward Davian. He seemed to keep one eye on the demon and one on his weapon.

When it was nearly in his reach, he yelled, “Let it go, Jade!”

This distracted the wraith. At the same time, Davian lurched forward, clasped the hilt and leapt to his haunches, prepared to attack. The move was wicked-fast. It hardly registered in Jade’s mind. But Davian took a full swing at the wraith in the process and the ghost’s eerie screech filled her ears as half of his skeletal forearm and hand flew into the air, severed by Davian’s sword.

The wraith blew over Davian to his restless steed and they soared from the top of the steps to the ground below.

Or perhaps she’d imagined that. Jade’s vision was as fuzzy as her brain.

No matter. Davian straightened and the threat against him was over. She let out a short puff of breath, white in the frosty night, the most she could muster.

Now she could surrender to the pain…