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Jade thought back a month or two. “I’ve yet to see a vampire, that I’m aware of, since they reportedly keep to the castle where there’s plenty of human blood stored up from the wars.”
She shuddered to think the preserved blood of her ancestors fed them.
Continuing, she added, “I’ve noticed three shifters in the woods, on different occasions—one bobcat, two wolves. Abnormally sized, so they were easy to spot. And I’ve seen horned demons in the village. Several of them, again during varying intervals. Never more than two at a time. I’m not good at identifying their exact species.”
Lisette seemed to take this all under consideration, then asked, “Any interactions with them?”
“No, but…they always watch me closely. Even if I’m just passing by.” She thought of the horned demons in particular and added, “They seem curious. Almost skeptical of me.”
“Questioning something about you,” the witch mumbled as her eyelids drifted closed.
Instantly alarmed, Jade said, “Lisette! No magic!”
Her eyes snapped open and she sighed dramatically. “How else do you expect me to tap into their mystical real
m and find out what motivation there would be to keep tabs on you?”
“Do not use your magic, Lisette,” Jade said in a slow, measured tone. “If the Demon King were to find out—”
“Oh pish-posh.” She gave a dismissive wave of her wrinkled and age spot-riddled hand. “I’m not getting any younger. Let him punish me. He can’t strip my powers from me.”
“But he can imprison you, damn it, so lay off.” Crossing her arms over her chest, Jade added, “Besides, I don’t want you getting into trouble because of me. Something’s brewing and I’m going to start snooping around myself to find out what.”
Concern crossed the older woman’s face. “Now, Jade, don’t go doing anything—”
The door to the library suddenly swung open with force and made a resounding thud as it slammed into the wall.
Jade jumped to her feet and faced the intruder—Max Wilkins, the butcher. A flurry of snow followed him in as he said, in a terse voice, “Come to the town hall, immediately. Something terrible has happened.”
He was out the door in the next moment, not bothering to close it. Jade turned back to a stricken Lisette. “What do you suppose that’s all about?”
“I don’t know,” the witch said. “But something tells me it will eventually come around to involving you.”
Jade’s stomach coiled. “Please don’t say that.”
Lisette stood. She rounded her desk and moved toward the coat rack in the corner. After bundling up, she added, “We don’t have a lot of coincidences or intrigues as a rule in this village. If you’re being tracked, it probably has something to do with whatever Max is spouting off about.”
Jade instantly thought of Michael. Her stalker had seen them together, in a potentially compromising position. What if he’d gone after Michael and that was why she hadn’t sensed the predator’s presence until much later, after her dream?
Her heart hammered in her chest. She raced outside and rushed toward the hall, which doubled as a spiritual gathering place on Sundays. She left Lisette behind, knowing her friend would have ample company as the villagers closed their shops and filled the sidewalks, making their way to the meeting place.
Jade stormed into the entryway with apologies as she nudged past the small conglomeration and then burst into the open common area. Mismatched chairs were always set to receive the populace of a hundred or so and Jade hurried down the main aisle. In front of the classroom setup was a long table with two upholstered chairs. The slayers sat there, arms folded over their chests as they waited for the others to take their seats.
Moving forward, Jade planted her hands on the sturdy wooden table and leaned toward them, demanding, “What’s happened?”
“Now, Jade,” Walker Marks said in a strained tone, his scarred face stoic. “You’ll have to wait to hear the news when we announce it.”
Frayed nerves urged her on. “This has something to do with the demons, doesn’t it?”
“Jade,” Tanner Monroe, the younger of the two slayers, said in a clipped voice. “Don’t create mass hysteria. Sit. Wait. Listen.” When she didn’t budge, he added, “Please?”
Agitated, she straightened and whirled around. Her gaze landed on Michael and she sighed with relief. Hurrying over to him, she grabbed him by the hands and said, “Thank God you’re okay. I was thinking you might have been under further surveillance last night.”
“Not that I’m aware of,” he told her. His expression was as grave as hers likely was. “We don’t have impromptu community meetings unless something tragic has happened. What do you know?”
“Nothing. Neither Walker nor Tanner will tell me anything.”
She was probably the only one in the village who could insist they share their information with her, given the fact she was the daughter of the man designated leader of Ryleigh when he’d established the village of survivors. After her father’s death, however, the slayers—at that time being Walker, along with Tanner’s uncle—had stepped in to govern the community.
