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The Demon King Davian (Deadly Attraction Book 1)

Page 25

by Calista Fox


  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.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Jade arrived at her house around seven a.m. She’d taken Toran’s patrol because she’d been too charged from her confrontation with Davian to sleep. Now she was exhausted. She crawled into bed and was out within minutes.

  She awoke around noon and shuffled into the living room to put some wood on the fire, but there was already a nice blaze burning. Davian sat at her table, sifting through correspondence and other items while consulting a map. She’d had too many things on her mind to remember to latch the door. Or perhaps, she’d subconsciously left it unsecured, hoping he’d return.

  “How long have you been here?” she asked as she took the chair next to him.

  “A couple hours. Catching up on business.” He slid a sheet of paper her way. “This is your copy.”

  She stared at the approved document that officially made her a demon slayer. Her gaze lifted and locked with his. “You signed this.”

  “I realized you’d continue down this path regardless. And I don’t want you creating more trouble for yourself.” He reached for her hand and raised it to his lips. “There’s something I want to ask of you, though.”

  “I promise to be careful,” she quickly assured him.

  He nodded. “That’s one thing that deeply concerns me. The other is that you’ve proven to be an effective liaison between myself and the village. I’d like that connection to be more solid. You could assist me.”

  Her head inclined to one side as she regarded him thoughtfully. “How?”

  “Will you entertain the notion of a diplomatic post? Such as…an ambassador of peace?”

  The suggestion stunned her. But myriad thoughts instantly snapped to attention in her mind. “Meaning I would advocate for a less volatile co-existence and you would help us find better, safer ways for humans to live?”

  “You can confer with the villagers and present ideas to me for consideration. In turn, I’ll make an effort to improve human-demon relations. But I’m not just talking about Ryleigh. We would take our movement to other villages, all regions.”

  Her spirits soared. “You really want to promote goodwill? Together?”

  “Yes, I do.”

  “Davian…” Her eyes misted.

  He said, “That night Michael almost kissed you… Later, I contemplated whether my unrequited feelings for you had become the price I had to pay for letting the Demon War go too far. I thought of restitution and redemption. I hadn’t stopped the battles when I should have and I regret that. In the back of my mind, I’ve always wondered how I could make amends. Now, months following that night outside the tavern, I still contend you’re the key to my salvation.”

  She stared at him, her thoughts too jumbled to process. Her heart, however, did not stutter. Rather, it picked up several beats.

  “Maybe,” he added, “we were destined to meet—to team up and forge our own Reconstruction Era, as we’d previously discussed.”

  “You might be right,” she said with hope blossoming. “I told you, I spent fifteen years just going through the motions every day. But since that first time you came to the village… Yes, there have been some painful moments, yet I’ve started to see things in a new light. I’ve become more involved. It feels as if that’s precisely what I’m supposed to do.”

  He grinned at her, though it was notably strained. He still worried over her welfare. Probably still smarted over her disobedience too. He said, “We could help each other if we worked together.”

  “Not just each other,” she pointed out. “We could improve a lot of lives. Make the human communities and traveling amongst them less perilous, while still allowing the demons to roam at will outside the borders. Your alliance hasn’t faltered,” she said. “It’s those who haven’t banded with you that present the most trouble.”

  “I agree. And I’ll have to place a greater penalty on them. I want this insurgency to stop. Attacks on the slayers and other humans can’t be tolerated.”

  She leaned toward him and kissed him. “Thank you for seeing beyond me and accepting a bigger picture.”

  “I want you well protected, make no mistake,” he adamantly said. “And pampered; though I might have to settle for comfortable. My idea of ensuring that happened was to whisk you away to my home. But now I know how much you love the cottage—and why. And how fiercely dedicated you are to the village. As your father had been. I res
pect that, Jade. As such…I’ll try to be less controlling.”

  She smiled.

  “However,” he told her with a hefty dose of warning in his voice, “when I know there’s danger close by, I don’t want you doing anything hasty. You need to maintain your partnership with Toran and watch each other’s backs. Do you understand?”

  “You have my word.” Triumph rippled through her. “I don’t want to divert your attention by causing you to worry about me because I’ve gone off half-cocked. I’ll be very level-headed and cognizant of hazardous situations. I swear.”

  Relief crossed his devilishly handsome face. “I’m holding you to that. I’ve enough to deal with at the moment. In fact, I need to rally this next charge to find the pack that ambushed Walker. Something tells me tracking the shifters will lead us directly to the rebel army. When they materialize, that is.”

  “You don’t have to leave just yet, do you?”

  His gaze slid over her. “No. Not just yet.”

  She stood and held her hand out to him. He took it and she tugged until he was on his feet and following her into the bedroom.

  “I’ve read in my romance novels that make-up sex can be particularly exciting,” she said.

  He pulled her into his arms and kissed her hungrily. Her own cravings were ravenous. She slipped her hands under his sweater and marveled over the feel of his warm skin against hers. His muscles bunched beneath her fingertips.

  His hand cupped her nape and he deepened the kiss, conveying emotion and need, but also reminding her that she belonged to him. As though she might have forgotten this while he’d been away and she’d been off with Toran, honing her slaying skills.

  Davian broke the kiss and hauled off his sweater. He turned her so her back was to him. His arms slid around her and he palmed her breasts. She sighed dreamily as his lips grazed her neck.

  “I’m still angry with you,” he murmured in her ear.

 

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