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“The first time I met Liam and assured him my law of peace between the demons and the humans would be upheld by my alliance, he had short, military-style hair. I noticed the marking on his neck that looked identical to the one I just discovered in this book. It was below his right ear. Every time I saw him thereafter, he had long hair that covered what I’d assumed were freckles or moles. I never thought of the pattern again. But I researched it this morning.”
Morgan slid into a chair on the opposite side of the enormous desk. “Are you going to tell me Jade has the same configuration in the exact same spot?”
He nodded.
“What does it mean?”
“It’s a sacred symbol. A very simple one, so as to not draw too much attention to it or spark speculation as to whether it’s more than freckles naturally aligned. But it’s the mark of a demi-demon.”
Morgan’s head jerked back. “What?”
“I knew there was something different about Liam, but I never delved too deep. He was clearly human, clearly mortal. Despite his willfulness and skill, he always took great care and precaution with his life. He didn’t operate in a reckless manner.”
“But it did take an effort to murder him, when rogue shifters attacked him.”
“Yes, that’s true. However, that’s because he had the ability to self-heal, like Jade. They’d mauled him, then ripped his arms and legs from the sockets to keep him from repairing the damage. For good measure, they decapitated him. They’d done the same to Jade’s mother, though it hadn’t been necessary. She didn’t possess the same talents as her husband and daughter.”
It had been a grisly scene to come upon, when word had reached him. But it had been infinitely more horrifying
for Jade.
He’d later learned, the first time he’d invaded her thoughts, that she had witnessed the entire ordeal from the woods. In addition to her agony, fury and terror, guilt had besieged her. She’d never forgiven herself for not doing something—anything—to thwart the attack or call for help.
Reasonably, she’d known she couldn’t fight off the shifters herself and had been too traumatized to even try. Hiding in the forest, she’d been immobilized by grief and fear, shocked into stunned disbelief and had not made a peep.
That was as far as Darien had been able to make it in her dark, clouded mind. He’d felt all of her emotions almost as acutely as she had, he surmised, because they’d been horrific for him to experience through her thoughts.
The attraction he’d felt toward her when she was eighteen and weeping on the riverbed had somehow connected him to her, and from that moment on, her pain had become his. The very reason it was so necessary to stay out of her head. He’d go mad if he knew the true extent of her suffering.
Which brought him to his next point. “Demi-demons are similar to ancient demi-gods in some respects. They’re human, but they possess extraordinary abilities. They’re descendants of demons, but their blood has been so diluted over the centuries, their human nature reigns. And they can be killed, by human or demon hands. Even if they have the capability to self-heal.”
“I always wondered why Liam would say not all demons are evil,” Morgan mused. “Do you think Jade knows her true heritage?”
“No.” He was certain of it. “She believes she’s fully human. I’m not sure she’d want to know the truth.”
Morgan gave him a pointed look. “And you’d prefer that as well, correct? Otherwise, she just might decide she has some higher purpose and take her father’s place in the village, thereby putting herself in more danger.”
“I do have my reasons for not telling her, yes. But beyond that, I don’t think she’d handle the reality well. She’s been raised to fear and loathe demons. We’ve given all humans ample cause for that.”
His general regarded him thoughtfully, then said, “Jade neither fears nor loathes you.” He inclined his head to the side and amended, “Well, there might be some fear there. She’s smart enough to know her mortality is threatened by our kind. But she certainly doesn’t loathe you.”
“She should though.” He stood. “The fact that she doesn’t creates another problem.”
He crossed to the wall lined with built-in shelves and cabinets, a counter running the length at waist height. He opened one of the intricate glass and wood-framed doors and retrieved a box from the back of the shelf. Returning to his chair, he set the box on the desk and lifted the lid.
Morgan was out of his seat in a heartbeat, leaning toward the stunning necklace that lay against silver satin folds. “The Star of Nadia? It exists.”
“Yes.” Strung on a wide, black satin ribbon was a white and black diamond-encrusted multi-point star pendant. The faceted center of the star was slightly raised and created a stunning spectrum of colors under the candlelight.
Lifting the necklace, Darien said, “It was blessed by the Demon Princess Nadia of Scotland, who lost her mortal lover in battle. She was heartbroken and wanted to ease the suffering of others who might share her same fate if they fell in love with a human.”
Not a common occurrence, he’d learned. But not an unfathomable one either.
He added, “This jewel has been in my family since the early 1200s, when one of my ancestors was made immortal. It passes through a specific branch of my family tree from generation to generation.”
Morgan eyed him curiously. “And you intend to give it to Jade.”
“Yes. But not for the purpose of making her immortal.”
