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They finished their coffee and muffins in silence. Jade was about to leave when Alex Stanton from the post station blew in, one arm wrapped around a large metal object that appeared to be extremely heavy for the wiry man. He all but dropped it on the spare desk in the corner and dumped a satchel next to it.
He took a moment to catch his breath as Jade closed the door behind him. Then he told her, “Special delivery for you.”
“What is it?” she asked as she stepped around him.
Lisette answered the question. “It’s a manual typewriter. A Royal from the early 1900s.”
“There’s parchment too,” Alex said as he lifted the flap on the satchel to reveal a thick stack.
“The ribbon looks to be in good shape,” Lisette mused as she inspected the machine. She grabbed a sheet and rolled it into place, then typed a few words. “Very nice. Quite smooth, in fact, so perhaps it’s been recently refurbished.”
Jade was perplexed. “What am I supposed to do with it?”
With a laugh, her friend said, “I haven’t the slightest idea. Write a book, I guess. You do love reading them. Maybe someone thinks there’s a story inside that head of yours.” She went back to her desk.
To Alex, Jade said, “Thanks for bringing it over.”
“Sure thing.”
He left the library and Jade sat at the chair behind the typewriter, staring at the letters on the keys. “Why are they not alphabetized?”
“It’s been a long time since I’ve seen a keyboard. The logic I once heard is that they’re arranged by common usage. You become accustomed to where they’re located. If you practice enough, you can type without even looking at the letters.”
Jade laughed. “Yeah, right.” She started pecking out words, nonetheless. Fascinated, even though she wasn’t actually typing anything coherent—just acclimating herself to the layout—she spent the rest of the afternoon clicking away before heading to the tavern.
When Walker returned her home, she got another surprise.
As she entered the living room, she found it decorated with garland on the fireplace mantle, along with lit candles everywhere. The rectangular table was set for two with her usual dishes and accented with a long, plush arrangement of garland, pinecones and tall tapers.
The scent that wafted her way took her toward the kitchen. She didn’t make it there, though. Davian stepped into the oversize doorway between the hall and the living room and propped a forearm against the wall.
He grinned sexily. “Merry Christmas, sweetheart.”
It was after midnight, so his timing was impeccable. “I like how you spruced the place up,” she told him. “Maybe I needed a man, after all.”
“Doesn’t hurt to be festive.”
“Or kind.” She stepped closer and put her hands on his waist. “Tell me I didn’t guilt you into sharing some of your indulgences with the village.”
He chuckled. “You didn’t. You made a legitimate argument and I listened. If I say I want to promote peace, I should back it up with goodwill.”
Staring up at him, she said, “It neither went unnoticed nor unappreciated.”
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 fascinating.” In a reflective voice, he contended, “I seemed to have forgotten that I’m not just a leader of my alliance, but that I rule North and Central America—and am therefore a leader for everyone who inhabits this landmass.”
“We’re not all of like minds,” she admitted, “but the demons within your coalition 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 co-existence 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 outlaw demons can prey on us at any time.”
“Yes, that is something that troubles me.”
That he agreed with her intrigued Jade. “Did you learn anything new while you were out with Morgan?”
He kissed her tenderly. “Let’s have dinner.”
Hmm…avoidance.
Though 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?”
