She often wondered if it was her destiny to fill her father’s empty shoes. But then she questioned what the point would be, given the tyranny under which they lived.
Michael directed her to the chairs they traditionally occupied in the second row on the left, behind the eldest members of the community. She stripped off her jacket, knowing the bodies filling the hall and the blaze in the two fireplaces would be sufficient to warm her. Maybe too much, since she wore a thick sweater, leather pants and boots, all in black.
Lisette joined them, as always, despite the fact she could have sat with the elders. There weren’t many of them left and they were, on whole, a stodgy group. Jade knew Lisette preferred the vitality of youth and therefore hunkered down with her and Michael.
With her knee bouncing from nervous anxiety, Jade said, “The suspense is going to kill me.”
Michael draped an arm over the back of her chair, an unexpected move. He placed his other hand on her vibrating knee to still it. “Relax, will you?” His placating tone sounded forced. He was as disturbed as she was, but apparently he fought to control his emotions while hers ran rampant. “It could be something as minimal as a new curfew.”
The friendly touch on her leg and his soothing voice did little to calm her. “Yeah, and post-war children believe in the ridiculous notion of the Tooth Fairy and the Easter Bunny.”
“Hey, I remember when your dad had you sold on Santa Claus.”
She winced. They didn’t speak of their families as a rule. Neither one enjoyed rehashing the travesties of the past. Though admittedly, Michael had her on this one.
“How can you not love the idea of a jolly old man who washes down sugar cookies with a big glass of milk and has a belly that shakes like a bowl full of jelly?”
Michael chuckled, low and deep. She liked the sound. It made her less preoccupied with all the dark drama of late, including that scorching-hot dream she’d had about a man she’d never seen. One she didn’t even know.
Once the villagers had all filed in and taken their places, both of the slayers at the front of the room stood.
The noise, however, didn’t dissipate. Seemed the concern over an emergency meeting had gotten the best of everyone, not just Jade. The speculation and anticipation filled the room, creating a loud din Walker Marks wasn’t able to contain with the mere gesturing of his hand for silence. Several moments slid by and Jade jumped to her feet.
“Stop!” she cried out. “Everyone stop talking!”
The conversations instantly died. Jade glanced around the cavernous room, the people gathered about staring expectantly at her. As though she truly were the leader of the village.
“Thank you,” she said. Then returned to her chair.
“Nice work, Jade,” Tanner mumbled.
Walker said, “We’re here this morning because there’s been an accident. I don’t want you to read anything into it. Just let us share the facts with you and please don’t interrupt.”
He gave Jade a pointed look. She shrugged her shoulder. No promises.
Tanner said, “I found a body on my patrol early this morning.”
This created an instant uproar. Jade shot to her feet again as voices erupted around her. Her mere presence managed to quell the noise.
Turning to Tanner, she demanded, “Human or demon?”
“Human.”
Again with the public outburst, until Jade lifted her hand to quiet them.
“Who?”
Walker shifted uncomfortably on his booted feet. “Jinx.”
Jade’s heart stammered. She couldn’t speak for several tense moments. Then, on a sharp breath of air, she whispered, “No.”
“I’m afraid so,” Walker continued. “We found him in the south woods. I immediately spoke to King Darien about it.”
“You said it was an accident,” Jade commented, her voice shaky as she waded through muddled thoughts and her shocked disbelief. Tears stung the backs of her eyes. “Why would the king need to know about this?”
>
“Because,” Tanner said, a pained look on his face, “it was a demon who accidentally killed him.”