by Calista Fox
The backs of his fingers grazed her cheek and he said, “You do make me look at things from a different perspective. A bigger picture. It’s interesting,” he added in a reflective voice, “but I seemed to have forgotten that I’m not just a leader of my alliance but that I rule the entire continent—and am therefore a leader for everyone who inhabits it.”
“We’re not all of like minds,” she admitted, “but the demons in your alliance haven’t violated your command. And the humans, including the slayers and the witches, have obeyed your laws. Harmony may never be an appropriate word for us to use, but coexistence can be much more genuine and less worrisome if we can at least partially bridge the gap. There haven’t been any uprisings led by the mortals, but we’re still carefully monitored. Yet rogue demons can attack us at any time.”
“Yes, that is something that troubles me.”
The fact he didn’t argue with her intrigued her. “Did you learn anything new while you were out with Morgan?”
His head dipped and he kissed her softly. Then he said, “Let’s have dinner.”
She didn’t press, suspecting he’d tell her any news he had when he felt the time was right. She realized she trusted him enough to not poke and prod. Not that her mind didn’t churn with curious thoughts…
Pushing them aside, she asked, “What can I do to help?”
“Sit, and let me finish what I’m doing.”
She laughed. “So demanding.” Regardless, she took a seat at the table and inhaled the lovely aroma of pine mixed with the hint of cinnamon.
Ever efficient, Darien set out bowls of food, from baked potatoes to sage-flavored stuffing to steamed asparagus and a vegetable medley. But his main dish surprised her most.
“Filet mignon,” he explained when he placed a plump, round piece of meat on her plate. “With Hollandaise sauce.” He drizzled the pale-yellow concoction over her steak.
She eyed the beef and said, “I have no idea what this is.”
“Just wait.”
He disappeared out the front door, only to come back a few seconds later with a bottle in his hand. “Champagne from France.”
She frowned. “Seriously, this is how you eat at the castle?”
“Well,” he said in a tone that wasn’t arrogant…or contrite, “I am the king.”
“True.”
“Besides,” he said as he popped the cork on the bottle, “you have cattle and a butcher. He could provide this same cut.”
“Oooh, your first jibe.”
He laughed good-naturedly. “I’m not trying to be snide. Merely stating a fact.”
Jade considered this, then said, “It’s sort of like all those books in Lisette’s library that no one but she and I read. Once the villagers figured out how to survive post-war with things they’d recovered and salvaged, re-created from scratch or traded for, they seemed satisfied with the status quo. Instead of looking for ways to make improvements.”
“Maybe that’s because my army destroyed all the previous modern advancements.”
“And we think you might do it again, if we try to progress? That’s an interesting theory.”
Darien let out a long breath. “Maybe we shouldn’t discuss politics tonight.”
“Agreed. Except…” She thought of the book she’d handed to Lisette in the library. “Have you ever read North and South?”
“No, I don’t think so.”
“It’s about the Civil War, which happened during your formative years.”
He shot her a playful sneer at the backhanded age remark. “Go on.”
“Well, the main character is the son of the owner of a Southern plantation who goes off to West Point and meets the male heir to an iron factory in the North. They have significantly different life experiences, obviously, and don’t share similar viewpoints on most topics, all because of where and how they were raised.” She sipped her champagne and was momentarily distracted by the effervescence. “Oh that’s good.”
He grinned.
“Anyway,” she continued. “Above all that, the similarities they share are significant.”
“Such as?”
“Honor. Respect for their families, their friends and their country. Even open-mindedness.”
“Good qualities to possess.”
“Yes. And despite all their differences, they become the best of friends. Their families even bond to an extent. But the tensions increase as the regional issues escalate. The war eventually breaks out and they’re pitted against one another—so too are their families. Yet no matter the pressure of their heritages, somehow they find the strength to remain friends amongst the turmoil and against all odds.”
She gave this some thought, then added, “In the long run, they’re devoted to their friendship. Committed in a way that pushes them to help each other through the horror of war—and the disjointed politics that tore apart an entire nation and many families.”
He set his glass aside. “Nearly eight hundred thousand soldiers died and countless civilians.”
“That’s huge,” she said. Not as high in casualties as the demon wars, but still. It was an exorbitant number. Percentage-wise, given the population in the late 1800s, there had to be a close correlation to the death tolls.
“The war didn’t just come about because of varying opinions on slavery,” Darien added, “but also because the North felt it necessary to advocate for the Union—to keep the states intact, as instituted by the Declaration of Independence. Secession by the South was considered treason against the country.”
“In the end,” she reminded him, “relations between the North and South were restored.”
Darien’s finger and thumb curled around the stem of his champagne glass. He’d brought both of them with him, since she didn’t own anything so elegant. He swiveled the crystal flute, then asked, “Are you hinting we should engage in our own Reconstruction Era?”
“I’m not sure,” she admitted. “I think an honest evaluation of the state of affairs is in order first. After all, when the initial demon-human war of 2016 broke out, the world was already in a state of unrest, and the economy had suffered horrifically. People suffered,” she amended. “Lisette said the last several years before the war erupted, things were dire with the real estate, financial and job markets. Apparently, there was a lot of despair.”
He leaned forward and gazed at her. “You want common ground across the board?”
“Is that asking so much?”
“Someone has to hold more power.”
“I don’t disagree. But shouldn’t the entity in power hold the entire continent in his best interest?”
Darien scowled.
She pushed a little harder. “What pisses you off more—the fact I challenge you, or that you’ve already considered everything I suggest?”
He didn’t answer her question. Instead, he lifted his fork and simply said, “Eat.”
After dinner, they finished their champagne while snuggling before the fire, something she’d told Michael she’d longed for way back when, at the onset of autumn. That conversation seemed as though it had taken place years ago.
Later, Darien carried her to bed and made love to her.
As they nestled in the sheets and gazed at one another while lying on their sides, facing each other, he said, “I have a gift for you.”
“I got it already.” She’d completely forgotten about the typewriter. “Not sure what I’m supposed to compose on that thing, since I don’t know anyone outside the village to correspond with, but I was instantly fascinated by it. Lisette thinks I should write a book.”
Her hollow laugh seemed to trigger his furrowed brow. “Why not?”
“What would I write about?”
He kissed her and murmured against her lips, “You’ll figure it out.” Then he rolled away.
“You’re not leaving already?” Her tone was a bit on the panicked side, because she’d missed him while he’d been gone. Clearing her throat, she said, “I mean, you just retu
rned tonight. And you haven’t even told me about your scouting trip with Morgan.”
“Give me a moment.” He walked out of the room. Since he only wore his briefs, and his clothes were strewn all over her bedroom floor, she could take solace in the fact he wasn’t on his way out of the cottage, back to the castle.
When he reappeared, he climbed into bed, resuming his previous position. They cuddled under the covers, though a low fire burned in the hearth, keeping the chill from the air.
Darien handed her a small, black velvet bag. She worked the drawstring opening as her curiosity mounted. Dumping the contents into the palm of her hand, she stared in shock at her present. A ring.
“It’s mother of pearl,” he told her. “Comes from oysters and abalones.”
The wide band was made of the shimmery white mineral.
“You’re giving me jewelry after I lost your necklace? Which I still feel horrible about, by the way.”
“We’ll find it in the spring, when the snow melts.”
Her gaze on the ring, she said, “I don’t know. I’ll never forgive myself if we can’t locate the necklace. And if anything were to happen to this ring… God, it really is beautiful.” She inspected it closely. Letters were printed on it in an elegant, thin black script. “M.L.A.?”
His lips brushed over her temple. “My love always.”
Jade’s heart skipped a beat. She stared at him, her pulse hitching. “Who would have guessed you’re so romantic?”
“Just needed the opportunity to prove it. And the right woman.”
She smiled. “I’ll be extremely careful with this.”
When she slipped it onto her ring finger on her right hand, he said, “Correct finger. Wrong hand.”
Her breath caught.
“It goes here,” he told her as he removed the band and placed it on the other hand. He gazed deep into her eyes and whispered, “I love you. And I want you to be my queen.”
Chapter Twelve
Darien watched as Jade’s blue irises lit with surprise, then darkened with doubt. She tossed off the covers and got out of bed. Scooping up his discarded shirt, she dragged it on, though it dwarfed her, looking more like a long nightshirt that nearly reached her knees.
He rolled onto his back and stacked his hands behind his head on a pillow. She paced in front of the fireplace and he didn’t say a word. Of course he’d stunned her. But he knew what he wanted and had no desire to hold back from telling her. Despite the fact they’d once agreed he could never place a ring on her finger.
When she finally came to a halt, she turned to face him. “You want to marry me?”
“It is the natural progression of courtship.”
She snickered. “Don’t play upon my words. Death and marriage are two very different concepts.”
“Apparently not for everyone.”
“Darien,” she said with exasperation in her tone. “Now is not the time to tease.”
“I’m merely stating a fact. But our marriage won’t be like that. You’ll be very happy and well taken care of.”
Crossing her arms over her chest, she said, “You can’t be serious about this. There is no way on God’s green earth that you and I could ever be married.”
He frowned. “I rule this portion of your God’s green earth, so we most certainly can be married.”
She threw her hands up. “Haven’t you heard the adage that a fish can love a bird, but where would they live?”
“I’m the fish in this scenario?”
“Darien,” she said as she glared at him.
“Jade,” he challenged as he sat up. “Unless someone new comes to the village, I don’t see you falling in love with anyone else. And I’ve waited over eight years to be with you.”
Her expression softened. “I’m not discounting what we feel for each other. I’m pointing out the obvious issues. The first being, I’m a human and you’re a demon. I’m mortal and you’re immortal. And I definitely would not be comfortable at the castle. Especially when you’re not there.”
His brows drew together. “No one would dare touch you.”
“Accidents happen,” she said, clearly not needing to say Jinx’s name out loud—he got the message.
“I’ll assign you bodyguards if that makes you feel safer.”
“Oh that’ll be so much fun,” she deadpanned. “Will they follow me to the bathroom?”
His teeth ground together. Everyone who lived in his castle enjoyed the spaciousness and the opulence. It wouldn’t exactly be a hardship for her to reside there.
“Well, I can’t live here,” he said. “Away from the castle and on the human side of the border.”
“You’re missing my argument entirely,” she said with exasperation in her tone. “This isn’t just about living arrangements. We can’t get married.”
“We can do whatever the hell we want. I’m the one who makes the laws around here.”
“Ugh.” She pressed her hands to her face and shook her head. Then she dropped them and said, “Don’t get all high and mighty on me. I know you have the authority to do as you please, but this isn’t the least bit sane or rational.”
“I’ll admit it’s unorthodox. But despite us both saying we couldn’t be together, we’ve ended up together anyway, haven’t we?”
“On rare occasions. Not all the time.”
“I want all the time.”
She sighed. “I want that too. But it’s not at all plausible. You know this.”
He was quiet, debating his options. Eventually, he said, “There’s something I need to tell you. It actually lends significance to this situation and credit to the idea of us marrying.”
He got out of bed and reached for his briefs. Revealing she was a cross-breed would likely disturb her greatly. Only initially though. Or so he hoped. But perhaps it was time she knew the truth about herself. And her father.
Striding over to where she stood, tension and uncertainty stamped across her face, he took her hands in his. “I discovered something a couple of months ago. After you left the castle. I—”
“Darien,” Morgan called out a moment before knocking on the front door of the cottage.
He groaned. “Damn it.” Releasing Jade, he yanked on his pants. “Just…hold tight,” he told her. Then he stalked into the short hallway and reached for the door, which he jerked open. “Yes?”
“Sorry for the intrusion, my Lord.”
“It’s the middle of the night.”
“The sun will be up in an hour or so. This couldn’t wait.”
Darien stepped back and said, “Fine.”
He led Morgan to the dining table. The general unrolled a map and spread it across the wooden surface, getting right down to business.
“As you know, we brought the six demons we captured in Canada to the castle for interrogation. But while you returned with them, my men continued to search for the remainder of their party. We located them all,” he said as he pointed to Ontario. “With the exception of the fire wraith. However, I believe I know where he is. Or at least where he’s recently been.”
“Not in Canada?” Darien ventured.
“That small colony was a decoy. While we were tracking them, the fire wraith, I suspect, has led another army of rogue demons. A larger one of a hundred to a hundred and fifty, all of varying species.”
“Damn,” he said.
“Yes. They’ve been active. According to the steward of the central region, whose castle is in South Dakota, they dispatched patrols at your request. When they reached the southern states, they learned the band of renegades had mowed down several villages along the Mississippi and Arkansas border, moving north into the Ozark Mountains.”
“Casualties?”
“Many. Two slayers and about thirty humans. There were a few survivors, who reported what they knew to the patrols.”
He heard Jade gasp as she stood in the doorway to the hall. She’d changed from his shirt to a nightgown and robe, tied around her waist. She’d re
moved his ring, apparently not wanting to bring its presence to Morgan’s attention.
“Come over here,” Darien said to her.
She joined them at the table. “Morgan.”
“Hello, Jade. My apologies for the early hour.”
“It’s fine. Can I listen to what you’ve learned?”
The general deferred to Darien, who said, “Of course.” He clasped her hand and pulled her into his lap, so she had a good view of the map they still studied.
Morgan continued. “The marauding demons took all the supplies from the villages they attacked. They had horses and wagons, and yet…they’ve disappeared.”
“Into the mountains?” Darien asked.
“That was the first assumption. But navigating that range with wagons… It’d be slow going if it was even possible. The patrols would have caught up to them. Instead, they’ve lost the tracks and it seems as though the demons simply vanished.”
“That’s not feasible if they’re not all wraiths. The ghosts have the ability to become invisible, along with their clothes and swords. Their steeds, even. But none of the other demons in the army would be capable of this.”
“If they shared horses, it would be conceivable. But they can’t stay in that state for long with the other demons in tow.”
“You said they were in Arkansas?” Jade asked in a quiet voice.
Darien could feel the chill run through her, likely over the prospect of more villages being destroyed and more lives lost.
Morgan nodded.
She said, “The Ozarks have underground caverns. Some of them are enormous, with rivers running through them or lakes. Centuries ago, Indian tribes and even refugees from the Civil War would temporarily reside in them, making it difficult for anyone to find them.”
Darien and Morgan exchanged looks over her head.
“That would certainly explain why the tracks abruptly end,” Morgan suggested.
“There were large outlets so wagons could make their way into the caves,” Jade told them. “I’ve read about them in Lisette’s geography books.”
“But the openings must be difficult to spot,” Morgan mused.
“They could be covered with brush and foliage,” Darien surmised.