Authors: Calista Fox
Her brow furrowed. “That wasn’t my intention. And why the
leniency now that we’re alone?”
“Because,” he said as he rubbed the back of his neck. “I
need you.”
Jade gaped. Darien swore under his breath. He did an
about-face and stalked over to Lisette’s desk.
A flame of desire flickered along her clit, distracting her.
The heat that rushed through her veins made her shed his cloak and hang it over
the back of a chair before she spontaneously combusted.
The knuckles of his balled fist rapped the top of the desk
in angst or frustration or both before he turned back to her. “What I meant to
say was, I need to know more about who you are and what powers you possess.”
“Powers?” She shook her head.
He gave her a don’t-play-coy-with-me look.
Jade sighed. She wouldn’t win any battle of wills with this
man. Demon. Man.
Whatever
.
“I don’t have powers,” she told him. “I have abilities that
aren’t exactly the norm, but nothing mystical or magical. Well, not totally…”
He slung a thick, black leather-clad thigh over the corner
of the desk, halfway sitting on the edge of the sturdy piece of wood. Folding
his arms over his expansive chest, he said, “Do tell.”
Jade anxiously paced before him, suddenly feeling as though
she were on trial for her life. In the meeting hall, she’d been fueled by her
personal fears and aggravations, but also by Jinx’s death. Perhaps she had gone
too far with the Demon King, but she wasn’t one to sit idly by as the villagers
were picked off one by one.
Which made her wonder, if she told Darien of her gifts,
would he do as she’d feared earlier—toss her in a cell and throw away the key
because she was an anomaly he felt might be a threat to him and his kingdom?
“Jade.”
He said her name with such familiarity and intimacy, it
brought her to an abrupt halt.
She knew she walked a fine line, but had to ask, “Were you
outside my house last night?”
His jaw clenched. His casual demeanor, which she realized
had been his way of trying to put her at ease, turned stiff.
Jade gazed brazenly at him. “Do
you
possess special
powers?”
Such as the ability to manipulate images in one’s mind?
He didn’t say anything for a long spell, which added to her
apprehension. She was stepping all over protocol, she was sure. Stomping on it,
actually. But she needed to know the truth. Couldn’t live another day without
it, so what the hell?
She threw caution to the wind and took several steps toward
the king. “Please,” she said in as much of a non-assuming voice as she could
muster. “I’m not being impertinent. I saw tracks on the opposite bank of the
river where my cottage sits. I heard a horse last night when I came out of the
tavern. I know something…or someone…follows me. Is it you?”
Darien slipped from his perch on the desk and stood,
towering over her. Panic snaked through her insides, but Jade didn’t back away.
“By your own command,” she dared to say, “I have the right
to know if I’m being tracked.”
He glared at her, but her feet remained rooted where they
were. Her heart hammered as she stood mere inches from the magnificently built
man who’d made love to her the previous evening in her dream.
No, he’d done so much more than make love to her. He’d
turned her world upside down by proving what true passion and desire were all
about. But how had he accomplished such a life-altering feat?
An alarming thought suddenly occurred to her. “Can you read
minds?”
“On occasion.”
Her jaw fell slack. Oh boy, that was the last thing she
needed to hear.
Composing herself, she asked, “What sort of occasions?”
His expression was grim as he said, “If you think I’ve been
reading yours, you’re wrong. At least, not in a long time, as a rule.”
“Not last night?” she asked.
“That would be the exception.”
Jade’s body tensed, for all the wrong reasons. A forbidden
thrill chased away her panic, once again leaving her all too aware of the
sinfully delicious man standing before her and the wonderful way in which he’d
pleasured her.
“I had a dream about you,” she said, suddenly breathless. “A
man I’d never met. And yet the image in my head was true to form.”
“I did that,” he admitted, though his dark features
hardened, as if he was tormented by his confession—or the fantasy they’d woven.
“I can control the visions in a human’s mind, though I don’t do it on a regular
basis. I don’t read your thoughts in particular because they’re…extremely
painful.”
He turned away.
Jade stared at his broad shoulders and wide back. Last
night, he’d given her a very good idea of what it was like to be naked with
him, and her body ached with the reminder. And the yearning to have him fulfill
all her burning needs in reality.
But she was balancing on the tip of a sword with her errant
thoughts. The fact he wouldn’t tap her brain because of the usually insidious
and grisly memories that haunted her was a relief, yet he’d still crossed a
human boundary by hijacking her dream.
“You knew I was thinking of Michael and you insinuated
yourself into my subconscious mind so I wouldn’t fantasize about him.” Another
revelation hit her. “It
was
you outside the tavern. When he was about to
kiss me.”
His impossibly large shoulders visibly bunched beneath the
black shirt he wore.
Facing her again, Darien said, “He hurt you once before. I
don’t want it to happen again.”
She took a step back as uncertainty skittered through her.
“How do you know so much about me if you’re not in my head, as you claim? And
what does my relationship with Michael have to do with
any
of this?
We’re getting completely off track. None of this makes sense. All I want to
know is—” The big picture suddenly appeared before her. “You
are
stalking me.”
“Yes,” he finally conceded. “In various capacities.”
“How many can there be?” she demanded, incredulous.
Not the least bit fazed by her exasperation, he said, “For
starters, I am the king, remember? It’s my duty and right to know the
happenings of both my kingdom and the regions I rule. I also have a sixth sense
that helps me to home in on the powers others have cultivated. That’s how I
knew your friend, Lisette, has Wiccan gifts and even that Jinx could predict
the future.”
A menacing thought crawled through her brain. “He believed
the human world would be rebuilt. Not that we’d be able to conquer the demons,
but that mortals and immortals would learn to coexist in a modern world,
somewhat similar to the one Jinx, Lisette and the elders knew before the wars.”
This time, she couldn’t claim to not be insolent when she
asked, “Did you fear he was right and didn’t want him spreading that word?”
Darien’s brow jerked up. “Are you suggesting I had him
killed to silence him?”
“You are the king,” she said.
He glowered at her. “Do you have any idea what dangerous
territory you’re in?”
“Of course.” She swallowed hard. “But Jinx was my friend and
I want to know the truth about him. Clearly, those of us who have abilities
that could pose a problem for your kingdom are under close observation.”
Darien waved a hand in the air. “Jinx was never a concern
for me. He was optimistic and waxed poetic. He never created trouble. As for
Lisette, I don’t want her practicing witchcraft any more than I want my
vampires drinking human blood from the source. It taints the civility I’ve
fought to establish since the wars ended.”
“And what about me?” she repeated.
“I was…mistaken.” He shoved a hand through that thick black
hair she’d tousled in an imaginary vision and stepped around her. Crossing to
the fireplace, he poked at the logs with the metal tool from the rack alongside
the hearth, getting the flames going again. For her benefit, she surmised. He
hardly seemed to notice the temperature.
“What was the mistake?” she asked in a quiet voice.
“Stalking me? Or what you did to me last night in my dream?”
He replaced the rod and faced her.
“I had you tracked by a wraith from my army because I sensed
a new power building within you. I needed—I
need
—to know what it is. I
followed you personally when I couldn’t sort out the root of the power, what
the actual gift is. What I did was wrong. It went against the law I implemented
and I am sorry for that.” His mesmerizing eyes glowed under the candles and the
firelight when he told her, “As for last evening, that was no mistake. I knew
what I was doing. Out of the dream as well as within it.”
She sucked in a sharp breath. “Why would you…?” She exhaled
heavily. “I mean, what on earth were you thinking?”
Although the urge to rail at him for such a huge invasion of
privacy rose within her, Jade would be a hypocrite if she took offense. She’d
enjoyed the fantasy, after all. Had come twice at the hands of the man standing
before her, who had figuratively tossed Michael out into the cold and had
replaced that hard, warm body with his own.
Didn’t that make her as twisted and demented as the Demon
King?
Her heart continued to pound wildly and Jade pressed a hand
to her chest, as if that would keep the organ from leaping from her body. “I
don’t understand any of this.”
“In theory,” he said in a tight voice, “it’s really quite
simple. I’ve wanted you for some time. Eight years, to be exact. But you’re
mortal, which makes you wholly off limits. Even to me.
Especially
to
me.”
Frustration flashed in his eyes again, intriguing Jade.
He said, “Only one time before did I read your thoughts.
When you were eighteen. They were so black and agonizing, I never did it again.
I literally cannot stand how tormented you are. Perhaps that’s one of the
reasons I feel irrationally compelled to protect you.”
He seemed to give this some thought, but apparently didn’t
like the implication, because he scowled. “When I sensed there was something
new brewing within you, I had to find out what it was. My quest, however, has
not kept me from desiring you. As we’ve both discovered.”
There it was. The whole kit-and-caboodle laid at her feet.
Except…
“You’re wrong about me.”
His brows lifted. “Oh really?”
Her cheeks flushed. He hadn’t actually inferred anything
sexual, but all she could think was that he likely believed she chose to deny
their attraction and how desperately she’d wanted him. But she couldn’t deny
it. The inescapable truth was that she’d very much enjoyed the pleasure he’d
brought her and had the overwhelming desire to beg for seconds.
He was right about one thing, though. She was mortal. He was
a Demon King. In what world could two such vastly different creatures ever be
together? Other than a dream world, that was…
Shaking her head, hoping to dislodge all of her peculiar
thoughts, she said, “I’m talking about my abilities. They’re not new.”
Focusing her mind on the metal rod he’d returned to the
rack, she lifted the poker with her psychokinesis and jabbed at a log before
bringing the tool to her. She gripped the cool end and then handed it over to
Darien.
He placed it in the holder once more. “Impressive. Has
anyone seen you do that before?”
“Not anyone who’s currently alive. Present company
excluded.”
With an intense look on his handsome face, he asked, “What
else?”
Jade debated how far she should go, but she suspected there
wasn’t much she could hold back from this man. As though he’d innately know she
was keeping something from him.
Reaching out a hand to him, palm up, she said, “Your
dagger.”
His expression turned skeptical and a bit concerned.
Jade laughed softly. “I’ll admit I’m a strong fighter, but
I’m not going to attempt to stab you in the heart.”
“Are you sure about that?”
She smirked at him.
With much reticence in his voice, he said, “Actually, that’s
not at all my worry.”
Regardless of his tentativeness, he unsheathed the dagger at
his hip and laid it in her palm. She wrapped the fingers of her other hand
around the handle and slowly drew the sharp blade over her flesh, slicing it
wide open.
“Jade!” Darien lunged forward and wrested the knife from her
grasp.
The pain in her hand radiated throughout her body. It was
excruciating, a fact that never failed to astonish her. The agony was tenfold,
or more, what it should be. Even a mere pinprick felt like a brutal stabbing.
And the emotional wounds were worse. Michael pulling away from her years ago
had made her feel as though she’d been run through with a sword.
She gripped the wrist of the bleeding hand as her body
trembled. Darien’s fingers closed around her biceps and he tried to direct her
to a chair.
“Sit,” he demanded.
“Just wait,” she ground out as tears flooded her eyes.
She fisted her injured hand and rotated it several degrees,
so the blood streamed to the stone floor. A few tense minutes slid by and the
flow became a mere trickle. Her breath still came in heavy pulls, but the pain
ebbed into a more tolerable and less debilitating sensation. She suspected a
good ten minutes slipped by until, eventually, not a single drop fell. Opening
her hand, she extended it toward him, palm up.
Darien stared at the healed flesh in blatant amazement. He
asked, “Where’d the blood go?”
Her flesh should have been covered by it. She said, “I
absorb any blood on my skin. Part of the regenerative cycle, I guess.”
“That’s extraordinary,” he said in a low voice. “You’re
human. But are you mortal?”
Her laugh was a hollow one. “Not that I’ve tested the theory—nor
do I care to—but, yes. If I sustain enough injuries, I won’t be able to
concentrate on healing myself.”
He studied her hand a few seconds more, then released it.
“You rapidly heal, yet I could see how painful that cut was, more so than it
really should have been.”