Free Adam by Jacquelyn Frank Page A

other, exchanging pained but patient expressions.
    “Mother, we have had the arrangements in place for months. Beltane is tomorrow, and the festival will be flawless as usual. Why are you fretting?”
    “Because I am hostess to your cousin’s royal event this year, and I would see it done perfectly or not at all. Now, did you invite the Gypsies onto our lands?”
    “Of course, Mother,” Adam sighed, “It is tradition, after all. And we know you feel it is a good omen.”
    “Very well,” Eleanor conceded. “Have you selected your escorts, then?”
    This received the expected sounds of protest from both of them.
    “Boys,” she said, her tone stern but not too scolding, “you are my sons, and therefore will be expected to bring a proper woman to the table, not just run off and tumble some girl behind a bush later on and consider yourselves as having been social.” She ignored their chuckles and mirth-filled glances at one another. “Some other families may not care about decorum, but I do. Please see that you choose decent Demon girls.”
    “No decent Demon girls will have us,” Jacob joked, reaching to tug on her braid in a rascally manner. “I hear that I am far too brooding.”
    “And I am Enforcer,” Adam said, that in and of itself an explanation. “I think my time is better spent enforcing the unruly on Beltane rather than finding some chit brave enough to face her fear of the Enforcer so she may share my plate.”
    “I swear, you boys would drive Destiny Herself to tears,” Eleanor huffed in exasperation. “Adam, I am well aware you will very likely be called away to work, but the rest of the time I expect you to remain here and be sociable. Jacob, I will take no such excuses from you. Choose or I will choose for you, and I do not think you will like my choice half as well as you would enjoy your own.”
    “Just so long as she comes clothed and does not belch at table?”
    “Jacob! Honestly!”
    “You try too hard, Mother. You should know by now that neither of us will ever be likely to marry. Adam is far too ugly, and I am far too smart.”
    Adam reached out and cuffed his brother for his insult, nearly knocking him onto the floor in the process. Eleanor rolled her eyes up toward the ceiling, seeking not only strength, but also possibly reassessing her thoughts on their maturity.
    “If we promise to come properly accompanied, will you relax about the festival and allow us to return to work?” Adam asked her.
    “Of course,” she said with a show of satisfaction and contentment. She knew her sons would keep their word.
    “Then we give you our promise to do so.”
     
     
    Adam used only a thought to change from flesh and bone into the form of a mist that allowed him to ride the clouds and wind currents. He rose above the home he had grown up in and let the current of the natural wind carry him over the vast Hungarian forest below. As a Water Demon he could travel as mist or fog or even waves upon the waters, but the superfine mist of a cloud upon the breeze was by far his preferred choice and by far the quickest.
    His path of travel ran quite close to the Romanian border, also known as Vampire territory, but the Enforcer was unconcerned in spite of the fact that the two Nightwalker factions—Vampire and Demon—were embroiled in a war. Certainly each side fought with gusto, the Demons believing the Vampires to be unruly and in need of controlling, and the Vampires not liking that idea at all. Adam resented anyone who wasted their time and energy on nothing better than pursuits of pleasure. The Nightwalkers’ long lives were precious gifts. They should be used with far better care than the minions of Prince Damien practiced. That, compounded with their delight in meddling in human affairs, made them dangerous. Their behavior put all Nightwalkers at risk. Perhaps King Noah thought that one day Damien would see reason and suddenly start to give a damn about what his subjects did, but Adam did