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Without warning, Toran unsheathed his sword and took a swipe at her—from a distance so as to not make contact with her. But her delayed response was enough to prove he could hav
e significantly injured her if he’d wanted to.
He engaged again, with the same result.
She sighed.
He shook his head.
Perhaps her assessment had been wrong moments ago…
“You’re too slow, Jade. You think too much. You don’t let your instincts guide you.”
“Where do we start?”
“With your footwork. But keep your sword in your hand so you get used to the weight. Then we’ll do some exercises to build more muscle tone and help with your agility.”
They agreed to meet three days a week, at varying intervals, when Toran wasn’t on patrol. In addition to the workouts, they discussed human-demon politics. Toran admitted to not enjoying that part of his charge, which intrigued Jade and gave her even more to think about when it came to her station within the village.
At her cottage, she practiced what he taught her. Between the physical exertion, the political debates and her nights at the tavern, she slept more soundly than she had since her parents had passed.
Visions of Davian offered her company, but also taunted her with a union that could never be. Still, his mission to maintain peace became her own, as did the desire to help her friends and neighbors feel secure when they lived in such close proximity to potential danger.
If other demons like the fire wraith continued to rise up and one of them actually did accomplish an assassination, everything would change. The humans would be at the demons’ mercy again. She worried about that constantly and wondered how best to prepare for such a scenario. If it was even possible to prepare for something so insidious…
Jade’s birthday fell on the first Sunday in December. Though she didn’t celebrate, she wasn’t surprised by the knock on her door that evening.
Opening it, she let out a soft laugh. “I simply cannot convince you to ignore this date.”
Michael smiled. “I didn’t bring a gift. Just a bottle of wine.” She stepped back to allow him inside, but something caught his attention and his friendly grin instantly faded. “What is that?” he asked as he brushed aside the material of her sweater at her throat, where the top button was undone.
Jade flinched. Michael’s eyes popped. “Jesus Christ,” he said. “Those are diamonds!” Not a common stone for a villager to possess.
Closing the door behind them, Jade said, “Please don’t make a big deal out of this.”
“Really?” He huffed as he set the bottle of merlot on an end table, given that her sword occupied the coffee table. His gaze landed on the weapon, and Michael raked a hand through his hair. “What is going on with you, Jade?”
With a dramatic sigh, she said, “Nothing. Toran gave me the sword.”
He spied an object under the chair by the window and knelt to retrieve it. Holding up half of a tapered candle, he deduced, “And you’ve been practicing with it.”
“That’s where that went.” She’d accidentally lopped off the top of the candle in its holder when she’d lost her balance the other day.
Standing, he handed her the remnant and then crossed his arms over his chest. “And what about the necklace? I’m pretty sure Toran didn’t give that to you.”
“No, of course not.” She dropped the candle in the box from the wax maker’s shop.
Turning back to Michael, she found him awaiting her response, crooked brow and all.
“It’s just a necklace,” she said, in hopes of making light of the situation. She’d been wearing the piece of jewelry most of the day and hadn’t thought to remove it when she’d opened the door to find Michael standing on her patio.
“That is not just a necklace. And no human we know could afford one that ostentatious. Not even a Delfino.”
Frustration tinged her voice as she told him, “You know where it came from. Now let it go.”
“Jade.” He stared at her with an incredulous look on his handsome face. “Seriously? You and the Demon King?” He said those last two words in the same disbelieving tone she’d used at the meeting hall when she’d challenged Davian’s explanation of Jinx’s death—and had found it inconceivable the psychic had struck up an amiable association with a vampire. In light of recent events, she no longer considered the possibility so far-fetched.
Still, she told Michael, “It’s not what you think.”
