The Demon King Davian

“They were good people, Jade. They didn’t deserve their fate.”

“That is very true.” She had to tamp down more of the stinging sensations rising within her. “Tell me something. Why did you stop coming to the cottage after I was born?”

“How would your parents explain to a young girl that a demon was coming for dinner? One of the very demons who waged a war against your kind?”

“But it would have explained so much,” she said. “My mother always seemed so torn between hating your species and yet finding some sort of compassion for them. She was the one to first teach me that humans can be just as destructive. Lisette’s books confirmed my mother’s notions.”

“Marianne saw things from an objective viewpoint. I always admired that about her. In the long run, however, she was only partially right. Not all demons are evil. But Jade… Many of them are.”

With that, he turned once more on his booted heels and marched out of her house.

He’d left her with a clear warning—not to get too comfortable because she’d had interactions with a few demons who didn’t want to kill her. How many more existed that would easily see her dead?

She left the room with a foreboding weight in the pit of her stomach. She tossed the last of the logs from the stack Davian had first supplied onto the fire. His timing was uncanny. She’d been resigned to shoveling for ground debris again in the morning. Yet he’d obviously known her supply had reached the dwindling point and had sent Morgan. Could be he was monitoring, from afar, the amount of smoke from her chimneys and recognized she wasn’t generating as much heat of late.

And that bed he’d had made for her… She laughed out loud, despite her melancholy. The fact it was three times the size of her old one aside, she loved it. Yes, the accommodations would feel lonely since she’d be sleeping by herself. But when she wandered back into her room and gazed at the bed, all she could really think about was how beautiful and inviting it appeared.

There was no denying she’d prefer to indulge in the plush comforter and satiny sheets with Davian, but she remained realistic about their predicament.

In fact, her relationship with him wasn’t what sprang to mind when she changed into her nightgown and slipped between the covers. Rather, her thoughts were centered on Morgan and the things he’d said. She hadn’t known his close involvement with her family, nor had she known of his revenge on the shifters who’d mauled her parents.

One thing that did resonate within her, however, was the comprehension that her mother had been right. Though the human-demon good versus evil equation was a complex and nearly impossible one to solve, she could at least grasp her mother’s sentiment now, for her parents had had exposure to a demon not hell-bent on destroying them.

Jade herself had met a demon who lived in constant conflict because he had executed deadly orders against the humans—a movement he hadn’t been in full agreement with, as he’d admitted to Jade. All this time, the humans had felt as though they were the only ones to suffer. That clearly was not the case.

Yet Morgan’s warning did not go ignored. As she reveled in the lavishness of her new bedding, she wondered if perhaps she really had become too comfortable with the other world she’d gotten a good glimpse at. Her father had apparently maintained a balance between being a liaison to the kingdom, with Morgan, and being the leader of the village. Peace had prevailed and fatalities had been kept to a minimum, with the exception of the obvious ones.

Jade couldn’t help but draw a parallelism. She’d inadvertently built a bridge between herself and the kingdom. She had the king’s ear and his general’s sympathy. She also had the trust and respect of the villagers. The slayers, even.

Now it was time to look beyond her complacent lot in life. Once again she pondered the questions she simply could not escape. Was she meant to carry on in her father’s stead? Was she meant to be the true leader of Ryleigh?

She had no idea what Toran and Walker would say if she opted to step into this role. Except that they too seemed to look to her at times to be the one to placate the villagers or to demand explanations needed in order to reconcile an issue. The slayers hadn’t batted an eye when it came to serving as her personal escort. As though they felt it was a dutiful thing to do. A respectful thing to do.

And Toran had given her a sword to protect herself against the fire wraith.

As sleep encroached, Jade had one last thought.

While she diligently participated in politics, she had let a crucial and necessary talent slide…

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.