The Demon King Davian

Jade sipped her wine, though what Michael had poured was all she’d drink this evening. She knew to keep her wits about her, certain a confrontation beyond the tavern doors was imminent.

“Not bad, eh?” Michael asked as he gave her a casual grin. He was strapping and level-headed, and Jade tried to latch onto the comfort he naturally provided.

“Not bad at all,” she concurred. “The Delfinos will be pleased.” One of their best customers, who didn’t mind the upcharge on a premium merlot.

The evening progressed in its normal manner. Some of the patrons got a bit tipsier than others, which no one was overly concerned about, since everyone would agree it took the sting out of the oppression most of the villagers felt, being under the thumbs of demons. And given there were no automobiles—or gas stations, for that matter—no one fretted over causing an accident.

Jade, however, worried anew as the village’s bell tolled at midnight and the bar closed. She, Michael and Dane—the other server Michael employed—cleaned up, exited the building and locked the door behind them.

They bid Dane goodnight. Then, as Michael did six nights a week—because the tavern wasn’t open on the holy day out of memoriam for the villagers’ slaughtered ancestors—he turned to Jade and asked, “Want me to see you to your cottage?”

Jade experienced a twinge of guilt that he was so chivalrous. They’d been lovers once, years ago. Both eighteen, without a clue in the world as to what they were doing. That was the year Michael’s parents had died in an avalanche.

In the midst of that tragedy, Michael had pulled away. So had Jade, as memories of her own harrowing loss haunted her. They’d remained close friends despite the breakup. And of late, she’d caught the lingering glances he gave her. The hint of what if? in his gentle gaze.

But eight years had passed since they’d severed romantic ties, and although he still had the ability to make her stomach flutter with a grin or a chuckle, a true reunion didn’t seem to be in the cards. Mainly because neither one of them spoke of their pasts, which was something they both knew was necessary to do in order to reconcile their inner turmoil and strengthen the emotional bond they’d once shared.

Though instead of delving into painful recollections, they chose to ignore them. Keep them relegated to the far recesses of their minds.

So, as always when his query came, Jade told him, “It’d hardly make sense—we’re on opposite sides of town. You’d have to walk all the way back here. And then some.”

“Yeah, I know.” He hedged, as though he had something more to say. His gaze held hers, the rich, chocolatey irises full of unexpressed feelings Jade couldn’t quite wade through. “I keep thinking someday you’ll say yes.”

To what? she wondered.

Yes to an escort? Or yes to so much more?

He brushed away a lock of dark hair that had blown across her face and stuck to her eyelashes. Tucking the plump curl behind her ear, he said, “I hate to think of you all alone in the cottage. You don’t have any neighbors, Jade. It concerns me.”

With a soft smile, she told him, “I’m very good at taking care of myself, Michael. Been doing it for a long, long time.”

“Of course. It’s just…” His voice trailed off. His jaw clenched briefly. Then he asked, “Don’t you get lonely?”

She stared up at him, emotion swelling in her throat. She opened her mouth to speak, but didn’t have the appropriate words. The attraction between them still existed, to a degree. Yet circumstances beyond their control had torn them apart once and Jade had not been inclined to have her heart broken again. Nor had Michael, it seemed.

But perhaps he’d changed his mind about that. About them.

Finally, she said, “I do, I’ll confess. Especially this time of year, when the snow’s falling and all I can think of is snuggling in front of a cozy fire with someone.”

His head bent to hers. “That someone should be me.”

Jade sucked in a breath. He was thinking along those lines.

Their eyes remained locked as Michael’s body gravitated closer. Surprisingly, she didn’t retreat.

His lips were just about to touch hers. A tingle of anticipation rippled through her. Her eyelids dipped.

Then a sharp snort pierced the quiet air and Michael’s head snapped up—as her eyes flew open.

Jade jumped back, startled. She whirled around, having heard the sound behind her. “A horse?”

A second later, the smack of a hand against a flank and the pounding of hooves reverberated all around them.

Sinister. Ominous.

The night was too shadowy, the trees and buildings in the village too dense and the demon’s cloak and his steed too black and shrouded for Jade to have seen anything. But she knew her stalker had come back for her, on horseback.

To take her away with him?