Chapter Twenty-Two

Jade rushed on. “I told you a long time ago that I’ve always wondered if I should follow in my father’s footsteps.”

“Jade Deville!” Davian roared.

He released her, but grabbed her right forearm. Yanking back the long sleeve that covered her wrist and a portion of her hand, he let out a harsh growl. She wore the dark-brown leather band of a demon slayer.

“Your father wasn’t a slayer,” he ground out as a red-hot rage flashed through him.

“He was the leader of Ryleigh, Davian.” Her voice shook slightly as she spoke, as if she knew how deeply this would affect him, but had gone through with the ludicrous and horrendously perilous action regardless. “Something Toran has never been comfortable with. We complement each other nicely.”

Davian wanted to shake her. The desire was unrelenting, but he resisted the overwhelming urge, knowing he’d hurt her because he was so fired up. Letting go of her, he stalked away. Only to pull up short and then spin back around.

“This is a joke, right? You’re teasing me, the way you sometimes do.”

She squared her shoulders. “Does it look as though I’m teasing?”

The anger seized him again. He whirled once more and clasped the wooden mantle with his hands, wanting very much to tear it from the stone fireplace.

“Please don’t break my house,” she pleaded. “I understand you’re mad, but—”

“I am not mad,” he said between clenched teeth. “I am furious. And I want to strangle you, Jade. Toran too, for swearing you in.”

“It was my choice. Leave him out of this. I had to convince him to do it, Davian.”

“Why would you even want this?” he demanded. “After the wraith attacks? Goddamn it. You know how susceptible you are to pain, and yet you’ve gone and put yourself in the most vulnerable position imaginable! Why?”

He couldn’t bring himself to face her. She was smart enough not to try to placate him with a hand on his back or some other gesture. In fact, she knew to keep her distance while his anger boiled in his veins.

“Slayers are born, not just cultivated,” she said. “I’ve always known I had the capability to fight—I was a natural from the first time I picked up a sword. But I needed more specific training, so I started working with Toran months ago, after the fire wraith broke my hand and wrist. I didn’t like feeling so helpless, so I asked Toran to instruct me. But that led to more advanced training, and then Walker got mauled and—”

She faltered. Had to take a breath before plunging ahead. Emotion tinged her voice as she asserted, “I knew I had to do something, Davian. The only expertise I didn’t possess that’s required by a slayer is the knowledge of how to kill a demon…and the ability to do it.”

Finally, he jerked around and glared at her. “The chicken?”

“I ripped its throat out with my bare hand. First try.”

The fury within him continued to burn. “Toran’s idea of protecting you is to teach you how to take on a shifter? A deadly shifter.”

“It’s something I need to learn, Davian. I am a slayer now.”

Holy. Hell.

She intended to stand her ground with this suicidal idea. But he had a say in the matter. “You’re not a slayer until I sign the documents for the registry.”

She gasped. “You wouldn’t reject them.”

“Oh, I most certainly would. I will.” He marched past her and collected his cloak.

Scurrying after him, she said, “I don’t need your permission to do this!”

“But you need my signature to make it official. And Jade,” he said with a clear warning in his voice, “if you kill a demon without officially being a slayer, that violates my law.”

“And what? You’ll try me before a demon jury?”

“That’s the procedure for anyone who crosses that line.”

Glaring at him with an incredulous look on her face, she asked, “What if I’d killed the fire wraith?”

“That would have been under alternate circumstances. You weren’t hunting it, it hunted you. But if you seek out the shifters that injured Walker, that makes you the stalker. There will be ramifications.”

Of course, Davian was the king and could pardon her—particularly since the beasts had made the first move, with Walker. Yet he had to get his point across. The last thing Davian wanted or needed was to upset the current balance between the humans and the demons, even if it would always be a tenuous one. Nor did he want to lose confidence from his alliance because he’d demonstrated mercy on someone who’d defied his rules.

Unfortunately, when it came to Jade, he’d found himself in an even more precarious situation than before. He wouldn’t back down, though. Beyond the politics, her safety was at stake.

Donning his cloak, he reiterated, “I won’t authorize the documents for the registry. And if you continue training with Toran, I just might rescind his registration as well and strip him of his authority as a slayer.”

Her jaw fell slack. It took several seconds for her to recover. He waited patiently, prepared to respond to any retort. The tension between them escalated.

When she’d composed herself, she said, “You can’t do that.”

Narrowing his gaze on her as he took several steps toward her, he demanded, “What are those four little words you’re now forgetting, my love?”

Her eyes darkened with her own anger. Visibly seething, she lifted her chin and said, “You are the king.”

“Very good.” He turned to go.

Before he made it through the door, however, she got in her own jab. “This is why we could never be married!”

He slammed the door behind him and mounted his horse. They rode hard to the castle, but the exertion and the icy air did nothing to calm Davian or cool his temper.

Passing through the towering gates, he realized he’d be a madman if he didn’t expend some of the searing energy within him. He sprang to the snowy drift below him and gave over his cloak to a stable attendant, along with Thunder’s reins.

“I need an ax,” he announced, his voice heavy with agitation.

Moments later, he had one in hand and stormed off. He left the walled perimeter of the kingdom and trudged through the blustery weather and banks to the dense woods inhabited by most of the shifters in his alliance, as well as other demons who preferred a simpler lifestyle than was the norm within the castle.

He found a fallen tree with a thick trunk and took the ax to it, his blows strong, agitated ones. The base was wide and required a significant amount of time to break through, despite Davian’s power and rage. Chopping was a mindless—and harmless—way in which to release his emotions.

As the sharp blade struck the wood over and over, he blocked his conversation with Jade from his thoughts and focused only on taking out his aggression and angst on the lumber. By the time he had five cords piled high, he was breathing heavy, but feeling a little less inclined to throttle someone.

He knew better than to blame Toran for the turn of events. Though the slayer was older than Jade by a few years, Davian himself knew how difficult it was to refuse her when she set her mind to something. Her virtually unwavering constitution and will were traits he admired when it came to her.

He’d be a hypocrite to want her to be meek and timid. Easily manipulated or directed. His interest in her would never have developed were she not so determined and, yes, stubborn. It was the complete package he’d fallen in love with, not just her beautiful face and alluring body. He couldn’t deny that.

What irritated him was the fact that he feared he’d never be able to keep her safe. It wasn’t a concern that had cropped up with her admission she’d been sworn in as a slayer, but one that had manifested itself deep within him from that day he’d found her weeping on the riverbank. She’d been alone and vulnerable to pain for a long time. Then the fire wraith had injured her twice, nearly killing her once, and Davian was not so arrogant that he didn’t blame himself for not shielding her from danger.

This nagging thought had him hacking away at other trees until the sun rose. Having stacked several more cords, he finally felt his tension had eased enough for him to be civil. He headed toward the castle.

Entering his study, he sank into the large chair behind his desk. He needed a shower and something to eat, but when Sheena joined him, he knew he’d get no reprieve from the disaster he’d returned to—and the inevitable outcome.

She placed a pile of papers before him, but held a large, opened envelope in one hand. Instinctively, he knew what was inside. Well, in truth, Sheena’s devastated look gave it all away.

“Jade’s paperwork for the slayers’ registrar?” he ventured.

The vampire appeared taken aback. “How did you know?”

“I’ve already spoken with her.” He held his hand out and she gave him the packet.

His assistant took the chair on the opposite side of his desk. “My Lord,” she said, maintaining a professional tone, though he didn’t miss the distress lacing it. “You won’t sign those documents, will you?”

He let out a long breath and shoved a hand through his hair, which was damp from sweat and snow. “I will.”

Sheena shot to her feet. “How can you say that?”

Davian eyed her speculatively, but she didn’t back down. Or sit. Apparently, she was too fueled by her own emotions to remain objective.

“She’ll get herself killed,” Sheena admonished.

“She might.” It wasn’t the first time he’d considered the possibility.

“And you’ll stand by and do nothing to stop her?”

He set aside the envelope and said, “I’ve never blocked the recording of a slayer’s oath. It’s their choice to take the post. Not many humans possess the necessary traits, expertise or will to rise to the occasion, so I’ve never been alarmed with an exorbitant amount of slayers in the region.” They served their purpose well, he easily conceded.

Sheena’s dismay didn’t abate.

“There have always been two slayers in Ryleigh,” Davian continued. “The village was down to one, given Walker’s current condition. I would have cataloged any new slayer who dared to sign on. They work with Morgan and I, and I believe their presence helps to promote a measure of assurance that the demons under my rule won’t revolt and massacre humans.”

“But we’re not talking about just anyone coming forward to assume the incapacitated slayer’s position. We’re talking about Jade.”

He speared Sheena with a hard stare. “Don’t you think I’ve contemplated that—every single nuance of this implication? I’ve just spent the better part of an evening and the morning taking out my anger on a patch of forest so I didn’t do anything foolish. I’m mad as hell, but…” He heaved a shallow breath. “She’s not normal, Sheena. In a lot of ways. And perhaps it’s time I fully accept that.”

The vampire collapsed into the chair with a dire expression on her face. “In order to become a slayer, my Lord, she has to know how to kill demons.”

He nodded. “She’s learning.”

Sheena was even more deeply stricken. “But we’re demons!”

Davian sat forward, clasping his hands and resting them on top of his desk. “Isn’t this an interesting twist of fate?” he mused in a tight voice.

She imitated his pose, the tension radiating from her. “What I know of Jade is that she’s spent most of her life living in fear of us because of the war and because of what happened to her parents. But she let us help her. She allowed us into her life.”

“And you’re afraid she’s going to consider you the enemy now that she’s a slayer?”

Sheena’s gaze dropped.

Davian said, “You haven’t been to see her since you received the paperwork for the registry, have you?”

“No,” Sheena told him, softly—a decibel he’d never heard from the outspoken vampire. “I thought we were friends. But how can we be, really?”

Jade’s parting shot from last night echoed in Davian’s head.

This is why we could never be married!

He mulled over the comment for a few minutes, but another thought came into play.

“Perhaps she was meant to be more than a slayer. She wants to protect her neighbors, but she’s also challenged me on occasion to help broaden their horizons. Make life for the humans more comfortable and less Dark Ages. She advocates for justice and she understands politics on both sides of the border. In fact, she’s more…ambassador…than slayer. Although I wouldn’t discount her fighting skills against anyone other than a fire wraith. Even I encountered complications with that species.”

Sheena seemed to like the direction in which his speculation had run. “If you were to make Jade a diplomat, my Lord, an official conduit between us and them, the demons under your command would be less threatened by her. More accepting of her.”

“Yes. And she might be less inclined to jump into life-threatening situations.”

His ulterior motives cropped up without surprise. He loved her, after all. He’d do anything to help keep her out of harm’s way. Appointing Jade as an ambassador would mean she could come and go from the castle under the protection of his governing laws.

And within the village, she could serve as a leader, but would have much to do, thereby leaving Toran to the majority of patrols. Davian would supplement the deficiency of a second full-time slayer by assigning two of his men to guard the outer forest on the demon side of the perimeter.

“If Jade wants to be a representative for her villagers,” he said, “I’ll support that. I want to strengthen relations between humans and demons. We all live on the same continent. And while we’ll never experience true unity, at least we can try to get along.”

He thought of the story she’d told him from the North and South novel. Some differences couldn’t be overcome, naturally.

But some could…

Standing, he continued, saying, “I need a shower, then I’m going back to the cottage. Maybe in a couple of days, you’ll visit Jade?”

“Yes, my Lord.” She left his study.