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Chapter One
North America, 2054
Not all humans are good.
Not all demons are evil.
Jade Deville had heard those words uttered by her mother on more than one occasion. Never publicly, of course, for that would incite much controversy. Yet she would whisper in the darkness of Jade’s bedroom when, as a young girl, Jade asked about the various species so that she might better understand the dangerous creatures that ruled the world in which she lived.
Now twenty-six years old, Jade still had a difficult time understanding her mother’s stance. History books and the sparse remainder of humans across the continents following the decade-long world war that started in 2019 proved the demonic community was as deadly as terrorist attacks, bio-weaponry and nuclear bombs—the latter of which had been destroyed by the demons before combat had even ensued, effectively wiping out a large-scale defense.
Despite her mother’s empathy that had never fully been explained, Jade could not muster an ounce of compassion for the damned. After all, werewolves had viciously mauled her parents when she was just eleven, killing them both.
As she left her cottage on the banks of the narrow river that snaked its way along the o
utskirts of the village of Ryleigh, in northeastern Maine, she zipped her black leather jacket against the nip of the crisp autumn evening. And the biting sentiment lingering in the back of her mind, tonight more taunting than ever.
Plump snowflakes glistened in the silvery rays of moonlight that penetrated the spindle-fingered cloud cover overhead and the dense forest of skyscraping trees. Jade wove her way along the worn path that led to the heart of the village. The ground was hard beneath her feet, frozen, with a light dusting of white that would likely turn into a foot of fresh powder by the time she returned home.
If she returned home. One could never be too sure in this day and age, and Jade in particular.
Something watched her. She sensed its presence. Felt its gaze on her. This wasn’t the first time, and she was certain what followed her was not human. There were no snapping of twigs beneath its feet. No scent wafting on a stiff breeze. And she didn’t hear the slightest hint of breathing or see a puff of frosty air—as was the case with her, a human.
She suspected what tracked her was a wraith from the Demon King’s army. They were the most difficult to spot with their black cloaks blending into the inky night as they floated weightlessly over the land, making nary a sound. Yet they left a chill along the nape, if one paid close enough attention. Jade always did.
Although she was unable to see her pursuer, she had the right to demand the creature reveal itself. By royal decree, she was allowed to confront whatever threatened her.
The Demon King Davian—who’d commanded the outbreak of war when he rose to power thirty-five years ago—had surprisingly, upon his victory, issued several edicts in favor of the defeated and in the name of peacekeeping in the new world. One of which proclaimed no demon within his coalition could stalk, hunt or harm a human, unless said human was a slayer or witch who made the initial predatory move. A rare occurrence because both were in limited quantities these days.
In fact, Ryleigh was extremely fortunate to have two of their own slayers, who served as magistrates. Most towns shared a slayer amongst a hundred or so other settlements. Not great odds against those rogue demons who defied the law, nor an assurance of safety in the grand scheme of things.
Jade’s community was well protected for a reason. Regardless of the sanctions governing immortal interactions with mortals that might suggest it wasn’t necessary to have a duo of slayers in such a remote, lightly human-populated area, the village sat in the shadow of the demon ruler’s vast legion of allies.
The kingdom sprawled along the ridge of a portion of the New Brunswick border. Many of the vampires, shapeshifters and other unholy beings made residence within and outside the castle walls. Dark and foreboding as it rose above the pines, the castle lent a menacing and perilous presence to the region.
King Davian was the most revered of warlords. Given his massive federation and that he oversaw a large geographical expanse—that being all of North and Central America—he possessed the power to reign over the three stewards he’d appointed, each acting as the king’s representative for their designated territory.
As part of his regulations that kept the otherworldly immortals from preying on humans, the king had also declared no more than two preternatural beings at a time may roam close to or enter a village, the perimeter of which—in Ryleigh’s case—the slayers patrolled.
That particular pact might not have been broken this evening, but the no stalking restriction had clearly been violated by whatever tailed Jade.
