by Calista Fox
She was desperate for the glorious release she knew he’d give her, but did not want to let go of the fiery sensations burning within her. Nor did she want to relinquish her hold on him or end their impassioned kiss. Everything about her phantom lover sparked her desire and she wanted to stop time and simply savor the most stimulating, exciting and stirring moment of her life.
But he continued to plunge into her slick, wet depths, and as his strokes became shorter and more forceful and his kiss turned aggressive and demanding, Jade lost herself in the magnificent sensations swelling within her until they reached a breaking point and burst wide open.
She tore her mouth from his as a sharp cry wrenched from her lips and echoed in her ears. She held her lover to her as her body quaked and her pussy clutched him tight.
Astonishingly, over the thundering of her heart and the raging of her pulse, she was able to hear four words whispered in a strained tone.
“Jade, I want you.”
And then he came inside her, flooding her cunt with his hot seed as his body convulsed.
Another earth-shattering orgasm rocked Jade so hard, she snapped awake, her eyes flying open. The sensation between her legs was vibrant and her pussy throbbed from both the release and the need to feel in reality what she’d experienced in her dream. She stared at the ceiling, her breath coming in heavy pulls.
The climax slowly ebbed, but her breathing remained ragged. She sat up and glanced around the room, almost certain she’d find her mystery lover lounging in the chair in the corner or stoking the fire in all his naked glory. As though he were real.
But, no. Jade was alone in her cottage in the north woods. As always.
Or was she?
A sharp grunt from outside drew her attention. Untangling herself from the covers that she’d mangled in her restless sleep, she shoved her feet into her worn slippers and raced to the double doors in her bedroom that led to a covered patio overlooking the river. She threw open one door and stepped out onto the cobblestones, lightly sprinkled with snow that had blown in from the sides.
Jade gripped a stone column. Her body shivered from not only her fantasy and the orgasm that had transcended it, but also because she knew someone had been close to her house while she’d slept. Her eyes scoured the area with the help of the glittery rays from a near-full moon that hung in the now-cloudless sky. The snow had stopped falling, but the storm had left behind a good two feet of powder, as she’d suspected it would earlier.
There. Her gaze locked on a patch of snow. Across the river and to the west, she saw the indentation of horse hooves. The tracks led from the northern edge of the narrow river—the opposite bank from hers—into the wide, thick stretch of forest that lined the base of the ridge where the Demon King’s castle stood.
An icy breeze blew across the land, ruffling her hair and billowing the skirt of her nightgown. And carried with it the neigh of a horse.
Chapter Three
Around nine a.m., a very disturbed Jade headed toward the village library, carefully carrying two mugs of piping hot coffee from the shop on the corner. Extra large, since she’d gotten little sleep after her intense dream and the discovery of the tracks outside her house. Even the release from her orgasms hadn’t calmed her enough to help her relax.
She pushed the unlatched door open with her shoulder and entered the small building.
Lisette Bordeaux sat at a desk made of pine and glanced up from the book she’d been reading. ”You’re early.”
“I was tired of pacing the cottage. I nearly wore the floorboards out.” She set the cups on the desk and slipped out of her jacket.
Lisette asked, “What are you so pensive about? You look as though you’ve seen a ghost.”
“Not seen,” Jade deadpanned as she sank into the comfy chair across from her friend. “Followed by.”
Lisette’s homely face fell. “A wraith? One of the king’s?”
“Do you know of any others that would haunt our woods?”
“Oh dear,” the older woman said as she patted her gray bun and then placed her hand over her fleshy neck, as though in distress.
Lisette was pushing seventy but was still agile and quite healthy. She’d been in her mid-thirties when the demon wars had erupted and she’d regaled Jade on numerous occasions with stories of pre-war life.
Aside from the technology that sounded too good to be true, there had been automobiles and airplanes. Movie theaters, concert halls, casinos, resorts, restaurants, cruise ships—all of which she’d discussed and described in great detail.
Most of all, there’d been freedom. Something Lisette had lost more so than anyone else in the village, including the other elders who’d lived in the time of the mortals’ reign.
With the Demon King restricting her reading materials and legally binding her use of magical powers, Lisette was nothing more than a caretaker of historical books and the narrator of a world it seemed impossible to rebuild.
What Jade found most interesting about Lisette’s wealth of information was that very few people in the village took advantage of the ideas and innovations of which she spoke or those contained within the pages of the resource volumes on the shelves. As though no one wanted to remember, or believe in, the way humans had lived not more than thirty-five years ago.
Had this been a bookstore, Lisette would have surely been out of business her first week.
“Tell me why you would be followed,” she demanded, her shrewd, light-brown eyes narrowing on Jade. “Have you done anything wrong?”
“Of course not,” Jade replied, indignant. “I do what everyone else does. I get up in the morning, I do some chores, wash myself and my clothes, eat a meal or two and then go to work. I come home, I go to sleep and repeat the process the next day. On my day off, I read books. Pretty simple stuff.”
Naturally, she refrained from adding fantasizing to her agenda. She didn’t want to think of the dream she’d had last night. It had been too real, too potent. The emotional and physical pull had been too strong not to give in to it. One of the reasons she’d lost so much sleep the previous evening.
“Have you said anything?” Lisette leaned toward her, eyeing her curiously.
“What could I possibly have to say that hasn’t already been said by someone in this village?” She threw her hands up in the air. “Let’s face it, there’s very little left to talk about, except to debate how best to grow vegetables and herbs inside during the winter months.”
They canned and pickled the majority of necessities. Meat had been scarce, she’d heard, in the early years, but had become more abundant with the return of wildlife.
“Hmm.” Lisette shifted in her chair, settling more comfortably before reaching for her coffee. She took a sip, then said, “How many demons had you crossed paths with before you realized you were being followed?”
Jade thought back a month or two. “I’ve yet to see a vampire, that I’m aware of, since they reportedly keep to the castle where there’s plenty of human blood stored up from the wars.”
She shuddered to think the preserved blood of her ancestors fed them.
Continuing, she added, “I’ve noticed three shifters in the woods, on different occasions—one bobcat, two wolves. Abnormally sized, so they were easy to spot. And I’ve seen horned demons in the village. Several of them, again during varying intervals. Never more than two at a time. I’m not good at identifying their exact species.”
Lisette seemed to take this all under consideration, then asked, “Any interactions with them?”
“No, but…they always watch me closely. Even if I’m just passing by.” She thought of the horned demons in particular and added, “They seem curious. Almost skeptical of me.”
“Questioning something about you,” the witch mumbled as her eyelids drifted closed.
Instantly alarmed, Jade said, “Lisette! No magic!”
Her eyes snapped open and she sighed dramatically. “How else do you expect me to tap into their mystical real
m and find out what motivation there would be to keep tabs on you?”
“Do not use your magic, Lisette,” Jade said in a slow, measured tone. “If the Demon King were to find out—”
“Oh pish-posh.” She gave a dismissive wave of her wrinkled and age spot-riddled hand. “I’m not getting any younger. Let him punish me. He can’t strip my powers from me.”
“But he can imprison you, damn it, so lay off.” Crossing her arms over her chest, Jade added, “Besides, I don’t want you getting into trouble because of me. Something’s brewing and I’m going to start snooping around myself to find out what.”
Concern crossed the older woman’s face. “Now, Jade, don’t go doing anything—”
The door to the library suddenly swung open with force and made a resounding thud as it slammed into the wall.
Jade jumped to her feet and faced the intruder—Max Wilkins, the butcher. A flurry of snow followed him in as he said, in a terse voice, “Come to the town hall, immediately. Something terrible has happened.”
He was out the door in the next moment, not bothering to close it. Jade turned back to a stricken Lisette. “What do you suppose that’s all about?”
“I don’t know,” the witch said. “But something tells me it will eventually come around to involving you.”
Jade’s stomach coiled. “Please don’t say that.”
Lisette stood. She rounded her desk and moved toward the coat rack in the corner. After bundling up, she added, “We don’t have a lot of coincidences or intrigues as a rule in this village. If you’re being tracked, it probably has something to do with whatever Max is spouting off about.”
Jade instantly thought of Michael. Her stalker had seen them together, in a potentially compromising position. What if he’d gone after Michael and that was why she hadn’t sensed the predator’s presence until much later, after her dream?
Her heart hammered in her chest. She raced outside and rushed toward the hall, which doubled as a spiritual gathering place on Sundays. She left Lisette behind, knowing her friend would have ample company as the villagers closed their shops and filled the sidewalks, making their way to the meeting place.
Jade stormed into the entryway with apologies as she nudged past the small conglomeration and then burst into the open common area. Mismatched chairs were always set to receive the populace of a hundred or so and Jade hurried down the main aisle. In front of the classroom setup was a long table with two upholstered chairs. The slayers sat there, arms folded over their chests as they waited for the others to take their seats.
Moving forward, Jade planted her hands on the sturdy wooden table and leaned toward them, demanding, “What’s happened?”
“Now, Jade,” Walker Marks said in a strained tone, his scarred face stoic. “You’ll have to wait to hear the news when we announce it.”
Frayed nerves urged her on. “This has something to do with the demons, doesn’t it?”
“Jade,” Tanner Monroe, the younger of the two slayers, said in a clipped voice. “Don’t create mass hysteria. Sit. Wait. Listen.” When she didn’t budge, he added, “Please?”
Agitated, she straightened and whirled around. Her gaze landed on Michael and she sighed with relief. Hurrying over to him, she grabbed him by the hands and said, “Thank God you’re okay. I was thinking you might have been under further surveillance last night.”
“Not that I’m aware of,” he told her. His expression was as grave as hers likely was. “We don’t have impromptu community meetings unless something tragic has happened. What do you know?”
“Nothing. Neither Walker nor Tanner will tell me anything.”
She was probably the only one in the village who could insist they share their information with her, given the fact she was the daughter of the man designated leader of Ryleigh when he’d established the village of survivors. After her father’s death, however, the slayers—at that time being Walker, along with Tanner’s uncle—had stepped in to govern the community.
She often wondered if it was her destiny to fill her father’s empty shoes. But then she questioned what the point would be, given the tyranny under which they lived.
Michael directed her to the chairs they traditionally occupied in the second row on the left, behind the eldest members of the community. She stripped off her jacket, knowing the bodies filling the hall and the blaze in the two fireplaces would be sufficient to warm her. Maybe too much, since she wore a thick sweater, leather pants and boots, all in black.
Lisette joined them, as always, despite the fact she could have sat with the elders. There weren’t many of them left and they were, on whole, a stodgy group. Jade knew Lisette preferred the vitality of youth and therefore hunkered down with her and Michael.
With her knee bouncing from nervous anxiety, Jade said, “The suspense is going to kill me.”
Michael draped an arm over the back of her chair, an unexpected move. He placed his other hand on her vibrating knee to still it. “Relax, will you?” His placating tone sounded forced. He was as disturbed as she was, but apparently he fought to control his emotions while hers ran rampant. “It could be something as minimal as a new curfew.”
The friendly touch on her leg and his soothing voice did little to calm her. “Yeah, and post-war children believe in the ridiculous notion of the Tooth Fairy and the Easter Bunny.”
“Hey, I remember when your dad had you sold on Santa Claus.”
She winced. They didn’t speak of their families as a rule. Neither one enjoyed rehashing the travesties of the past. Though admittedly, Michael had her on this one.
“How can you not love the idea of a jolly old man who washes down sugar cookies with a big glass of milk and has a belly that shakes like a bowl full of jelly?”
Michael chuckled, low and deep. She liked the sound. It made her less preoccupied with all the dark drama of late, including that scorching-hot dream she’d had about a man she’d never seen. One she didn’t even know.
Once the villagers had all filed in and taken their places, both of the slayers at the front of the room stood.
The noise, however, didn’t dissipate. Seemed the concern over an emergency meeting had gotten the best of everyone, not just Jade. The speculation and anticipation filled the room, creating a loud din Walker Marks wasn’t able to contain with the mere gesturing of his hand for silence. Several moments slid by and Jade jumped to her feet.
“Stop!” she cried out. “Everyone stop talking!”
The conversations instantly died. Jade glanced around the cavernous room, the people gathered about staring expectantly at her. As though she truly were the leader of the village.
“Thank you,” she said. Then returned to her chair.
“Nice work, Jade,” Tanner mumbled.
Walker said, “We’re here this morning because there’s been an accident. I don’t want you to read anything into it. Just let us share the facts with you and please don’t interrupt.”
He gave Jade a pointed look. She shrugged her shoulder. No promises.
Tanner said, “I found a body on my patrol early this morning.”
This created an instant uproar. Jade shot to her feet again as voices erupted around her. Her mere presence managed to quell the noise.
Turning to Tanner, she demanded, “Human or demon?”
“Human.”
Again with the public outburst, until Jade lifted her hand to quiet them.
“Who?”
Walker shifted uncomfortably on his booted feet. “Jinx.”
Jade’s heart stammered. She couldn’t speak for several tense moments. Then, on a sharp breath of air, she whispered, “No.”
“I’m afraid so,” Walker continued. “We found him in the south woods. I immediately spoke to King Darien about it.”
“You said it was an accident,” Jade commented, her voice shaky as she waded through muddled thoughts and her shocked disbelief. Tears stung the backs of her eyes. “Why would the king need to know about this?”
>
“Because,” Tanner said, a pained look on his face, “it was a demon who accidentally killed him.”
This had the entire room up in arms once more.
Jade’s head spun. Her body quaked. She reached for Michael and he was suddenly on his feet, his hand on her arm to help steady her.
Walker and Tanner tried to control the instantly horrified crowd. Jade barely heard anything over the pounding of her pulse in her ears. And her heartbreak over losing Jinx. He’d been like a grandfather to her. A funny, carefree spirit who told zany fortunes when one felt blue and always had a smile on his face, no matter how grim things seemed.
Jade fought back her tears and tamped down her emotions, as she always did when her feelings became unbearable.
She stepped away from Michael and out into the aisle, and her voice rose again as she asked the slayers, “What did the Demon King say of this?” She couldn’t bring herself to utter the word accident. It mocked the existence of their village.
The racket tapered off as Tanner said, “He’s deeply concerned. He is the one, after all, who’s advocated so strongly for peace. He questioned the vampire who attacked Jinx and, apparently, the two had struck up an experimental relationship some time ago.”
“Really?” Jade demanded. “Jinx and a vampire?”
“He was trying his hand at predicting the future with a demon, to see if he could do it,” Walker explained.
“He was bored with us and needed a bigger challenge?” Jade asked as she crossed her arms over her chest, not believing a word of their explanation. It had to be a fabrication concocted by the Demon King to pacify the villagers.
With a sigh, Tanner said, “We can’t presume to know what Jinx was thinking, Jade. All we know is that he’d met with the demon several times before. Last night, he decided to hypnotize the vampire. It had an opposite effect than what he’d anticipated—not a look into the future, but a jolt into the past.”
Walker added, “Tapping into the vamp’s subconscious mind, Jinx inadvertently triggered memories of the wars. Though in a trance, the vampire sensed Jinx’s human presence and pounced, because he thought he was back in time, in the midst of the battles.”