The Reign of Darkness

by Britney Jackson

  “Before who notices?” Kara whispered. “And what would she notice?”

  “She’d notice,” the creature said, leaning closer, “that I left you alive.”

  “What do you mean?” Kara asked with a frown. “You said I was dying.”

  “You were supposed to,” the woman told her quietly, as if she were afraid someone might hear, “but you’re only a warrior. What does it hurt, if you live?”

  “Only a warrior?” Kara said. “Give me time, and I’ll be the best warrior.”

  “I’m sure you will,” the woman said with a smile. She hadn’t said it in a patronizing way. She didn’t mock or taunt Kara. She meant it. This goddess—or creature, or hallucination, or whatever she was—believed in Kara. And that caused an entirely new feeling to fill Kara’s chest. The woman turned and climbed out of the bed—which left Kara instantly cold, instantly missing her. She glanced back at Kara, her eyes darker than a moonless sky. “I’m sure we will meet again.”

  Kara rolled onto her back, frowning at the creature. “Will I remember?”

  “No,” the woman told her. “Though you might feel more…aware, at the moment, you’re still quite delirious with fever. Once I leave, you’ll feel that again.”

  “So, you’ll remember me,” Kara said sadly, “but I won’t remember you?”

  “Something like that,” the creature said. “Goodbye, Kara Unnarsdóttir.”

  Before Kara could even reply, the woman disappeared, dissolving into a swirl of shadows, as if she’d never been there at all. Kara remained still, for several moments, stunned—and a little heartbroken, to be honest—but then, she felt her stomach turn, and her head began to spin. And she started to laugh. Breathlessly, at first. Then, loudly. She clutched her aching stomach, as she laughed hysterically.

  Her father barged into the tent, almost knocking it down in the process. The cold wind rushed in, causing Kara to shiver violently, but when she saw that her father had forgotten to even put on a coat, she started to laugh even louder.

  Unnar scowled at his sick daughter. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

  “You can stop worrying,” Kara said, laughing. “I’m not going to die.”

  Unnar crossed his large arms across his chest. “Who said I was worried? You’re a troublemaker, and quite frankly, my life will be a lot easier without you.”

  “Liar,” Kara taunted. “You’ll drink yourself to death when I die.” When his scowl deepened, she just smiled. “But it’s all right. I’ll be better by morning.”

  Unnar’s thick, blonde eyebrows furrowed. “What makes you think that?”

  “A goddess told me,” Kara said with a wide smile. “She told me I’d live.”

  With a frustrated sigh, Unnar dragged his hand through his long, blonde hair. “You think a goddess showed up here?” he scoffed. “Which one? Freyja?”

  Kara tilted her head back, smiling at the memory. “She liked me, too.”

  Unnar rolled his eyes. “The only god that would ever like you is Loki.”

  She looked at him, her piercing, ice-blue eyes sparkling. “She kissed me.”

  His eyes widened. He cast a quick glance behind him, as if he thought he might find someone hiding there, in the zero space that was left in the small tent. Then, he turned back toward her, pointing a large, calloused finger at her. “You know better than to talk like that about the gods,” he growled. “It’s offensive.”

  Kara started laughing again—clearly half out of her mind from the fever. “Offensive,” she snorted. “I am offensive! My existence is offensive!” She flashed a smug smirk. “And you know what? I’m totally going to fuck a goddess one day.”

  “Oh, for Odin’s sake,” Unnar groaned, “I’m going back to bed.” He cast one last glance at her, before leaving the tent. “If you’re right, and you do survive this, I’ll train you. I’ll make you a better warrior. So that this never happens again.”

  As her consciousness began to fade—along with the awareness of what she’d seen earlier—Kara was suddenly overcome by drowsiness. “Thanks, Dad.”

  “Get some sleep,” Unnar said. “Maybe you’ll finally sleep off the fever.”

  “I don’t want to forget her,” Kara murmured—but then, she already had.

  2

  The Princess of Skotalia

  1,411 years later…

  “Okay, I have some questions,” Rose said, “and by some, I mean a lot.”

  The vampire ignored her—silent and mysterious, as she led the way onto her ship. The salty tang of the ocean was almost strong enough to mask the stench of smoke and death. But not quite. Red flames dwindled in the distance, as the last pieces of the ship that had belonged to the Assassins of Light burned to dust.

  Boards creaked beneath their feet, as they crossed the deck of a ship that looked older than any Rose had ever seen before. Not quite ancient. But not new, either. Rose noticed other vampires wandering the ship—some of them strolling leisurely, some of them walking purposefully, as if they were needed somewhere.

  All of the questions whirling around in her head left Rose feeling…dizzy. Questions of who these vampires were, how they’d found them, why one of them was wearing a tiara? Of all things? Moments ago, they’d been in the middle of a battle. Now, they were on a ship with a tiara-wearing vampire. It was all so…odd.

  Some of the vampires seemed to take notice of them, and a few of them rushed away, disappearing into cabins. Not long after that, alarms began to wail.

  The vampire rolled her eyes. “I asked them not to sound the alarms.”

  They froze, as a small, blonde woman suddenly appeared before them—moving so fast that, even with their sensitive eyesight, they didn’t see her coming.

  The woman fell to her knees, immediately. “I’m sorry, Your Highness,” she said to the tiara-wearing vampire. “I didn’t realize you had already returned.”

  Rose shot a wide-eyed look at Kara. “Your Highness?” she mouthed.

  Kara lifted her eyebrows and shrugged—clearly just as confused as Rose.

  The vampire with the tiara loosened her cloak, revealing a blue garment underneath—possibly a dress. “It’s fine, Colina,” she sighed. “Where is Ligeia?”

  “Right here, Princess,” said another vampire. She appeared before them almost as suddenly as the blonde vampire had, but this one was a tall, dark-haired woman in black, leather armor. She bent forward at the waist, her long black hair, which was bound in a tight braid, falling over her shoulder. “What do you need?”

  Kara’s eyebrows arched even higher.

  “Ummm,” Rose sputtered, “did she just say princess?”

  The vampire—who was apparently a princess—swept her hand toward Elise, who lay unconscious, in Kara’s arms. “This woman needs to be seen by our priestesses,” she told the armor-clad woman. “The poison is in her bloodstream.”

  The armor-clad woman—that they’d called Ligeia—glanced worriedly at Elise. “Does she have enough time,” she asked the princess, “for the treatment?”

  “Yes. I believe she has about an hour left,” the princess said, “before she loses all chance of survival. The treatment only requires about twenty minutes.”

  Rose watched them with a curious frown. “What kind of treatment is it?”

  The tiara-wearing vampire glanced at her—but, of course, didn’t answer.

  “I’ll take her,” the blonde woman said. Rose remembered the princess calling her Colina. She stood and held out her arms. “Our priestesses will help.”

  Rose couldn’t help but notice that, although the women spoke English, they all had the same, strange accent—heavy, old, and otherworldly. “Wait,” Rose said worriedly, glancing back and forth between them, “we need to stay with her.”

  “I’m sorry, my Eklektos,” the princess sighed, “but you must stay here.”

  “Eklektos?” Colina gasped. Her blue eyes shifted toward Rose, widening in shock. She fell to her knees—again—and bowed her head. “Please, for
give me, my Eklektos!” she cried. “I didn’t realize it was you. I’m so honored to meet you.”

  Ligeia fell to her knees, too, but her dark, brown gaze remained on Rose.

  “Uhh, what are they doing?” Rose sputtered. “Why are they doing that?”

  “What? You mean bowing?” the princess laughed, as if she couldn’t think of a single reason that Rose might find that strange. She turned to Colina with a patient smile and pointed, again, at Elise. “This woman is a friend of the Eklektos. I trust that you’ll ensure she is cared for and treated with the utmost respect?”

  “Absolutely, Your Highness,” Colina said, straightening. “She’ll receive the best treatment possible.” She held out her arms, and Kara reluctantly allowed the vampire to take Elise from her. “Don’t worry about her, my Eklektos,” Colina told Rose, as she turned to leave. “We’ll have her blood purified within minutes.”

  “Blood purified?” Rose repeated, as the vampire rushed away. She turned toward the other two vampires—Ligeia and the princess. “What does that mean?”

  “With our equipment and potions,” the princess said, “she’ll be fine.”

  Rose stared at the strange, tiara-wearing vampire, her brows twisting with confusion. “Umm, I’m sorry. Did you just say potions? As in…magical potions?”

  But once again, the mysterious, cloaked vampire didn’t answer her.

  She and the other vampire—the one in armor—seemed more concerned with Kara. Probably because of the way Kara was looking at them, at the moment.

  “Why should we stay here?” Kara challenged. “Why should we trust you?”

  The princess stared at Kara, disapproval flashing in her pale blue eyes. “I wonder what makes it so difficult for you to trust people, warrior,” she said. Her eyebrows lifted curiously. “Could it be, perhaps, that you are not trustworthy?”

  “Oh, I’m definitely not trustworthy,” Kara said with a smile. She stepped closer to the princess and whispered, “And I know a fellow liar when I see one.”

  Rose heard a soft shing and saw a quick flash of metal, as the armor-clad vampire unsheathed her sword and touched the tip of the blade to Kara’s chest.

  Kara looked down at the sword, an eyebrow quirking up. “Ooh. Pretty.”

  “Step back,” Ligeia growled. “And don’t speak to the princess that way.”

  Rose stepped forward, anger rising within her, like a red-hot flame, and without thinking, she shoved the sword away from Kara. “Don’t threaten her.”

  Kara glanced at Rose, her eyebrows lifting, her lips twitching into a smile.

  Ligeia, on the other hand, seemed alarmed by Rose’s reaction. She cast a quick glance at the princess, before lowering her sword. “It was only a warning.”

  “Oh, yeah. Sure,” Rose said. “I also use deadly weapons to warn people.”

  Kara had yet to take her eyes off of Rose, and she’d yet to stop grinning.

  “I’m fine, Ligeia,” the princess murmured. “Don’t offend the Eklektos.”

  Ligeia sheathed her sword, immediately, and bowed. “My apologies.”

  With the danger gone, the adrenaline rush—that had ignited all of Rose’s animalistic instincts—faded, and her mind cleared. She turned, glancing at Kara, as she sensed Kara’s gaze on her. She blushed under Kara’s dark, searing gaze.

  Kara smiled seductively. “I love it when you get all fierce and protective.”

  Rose’s blush deepened. “Oh, hush,” she mumbled, suppressing a smile. Any hint of a smile faded, though, when the princess’s gaze shifted toward her.

  “Please, forgive us for offending you,” the princess said, “my Eklektos.”

  “You didn’t…offend me,” Rose said with a frown. “You just worried me.” Their obsession with pleasing her, specifically, was starting to freak her out. Rose wasn’t a huge fan of attention, after all. “I don’t like seeing Kara threatened.”

  The princess frowned, as if she found that unusual, but then, that polite smile spread across her face again. “Of course. Your warrior deserves respect.”

  “Are you sure these people know who you are?” Erik whispered to Rose.

  “I’m almost positive they don’t, actually,” Rose mumbled in response.

  The princess lifted her eyebrows. “Really? What makes you think that?”

  Rose frowned. “Umm…well…the bowing,” she stammered, “for one.”

  Erik snorted, barely holding back laughter. “Yeah,” he scoffed, grinning playfully at Rose. “Rose isn’t really the kind of person you get on your knees for.”

  “Oh, I beg to differ,” Kara murmured, angling a lascivious smile at Rose.

  Rose froze, her face reddening. She turned and stared blankly at Kara.

  The sensual curve of Kara’s lips deepened, as she winked slyly at Rose.

  The princess glanced back and forth between Rose and Kara, frowning suspiciously, as if she couldn’t quite figure out what kind of relationship they had.

  Ligeia climbed to her feet. “Did you need something from me, Princess?”

  “Yes,” the princess said. She turned, slowly and gracefully, to face Ligeia. “We need to leave immediately. Humans have declared war on vampires—just as Zosime predicted. We have to take the Eklektos and her friends somewhere safe.”

  “Whoa, Tiara Lady!” Rose called out. “We never agreed to go anywhere.”

  “It doesn’t sound like we have much of a choice,” Erik muttered to her.

  Ligeia ignored their interruption. “Yes, Your Highness. We’ll leave now.”

  Rose watched with a baffled frown, as the armor-clad vampire bowed—before disappearing from sight. “Who are you people?” she asked the princess.

  The princess flashed a polite smile. “We’ve come to help, my Eklektos.”

  “You didn’t answer her question,” Kara said. Her icy blue eyes narrowed at the strange, cloaked vampire. “She asked who you are. Not why you’re here.”

  “The reason we’re here is more important, isn’t it?” the princess argued.

  “Usually, it’s the thing you hide that’s most important,” Kara countered.

  “Warrior,” the princess said with a condescending smile, “you’re looking for problems where there are none. I’m not hiding who I am from the Eklektos.”

  Kara scoffed at that. “Well, you’re hiding something. That’s for sure.”

  Because of their blood bond, Rose could feel Kara’s suspicion, twisting at her stomach, as strongly as she’d feel it if it were her own. No one recognized lies as easily as Kara. If Kara thought the princess was lying, Rose was sure she was.

  The princess smiled at Rose, her pale blue eyes wide and glassy. “It’s not that I’m hiding anything, my Eklektos. It’s just that I don’t know where to start.”

  Rose lifted her eyebrows. “Well, I mean, you could always start with your name,” she muttered dryly, “since, you know, that’s what most people start with.”

  “It’s Myrinne,” the tiara-wearing vampire told her. “Princess Myrinne.”

  “Princess?” Rose said. “As in the…daughter-of-a-king kind of princess?”

  A strange look passed over Princess Myrinne’s face—as if Rose had just breached a sensitive topic, somehow. “Daughter of a queen, actually,” she stated, pasting on that polite smile of hers, yet again. “But I rule in the queen’s place.”

  Rose squinted curiously. “Um, why? And what exactly do you rule over?”

  Erik leaned closer to Rose. “Someone tells you they’re royalty, and your first instinct is to sass them and question them? Are you trying to get us killed?”

  Princess Myrinne frowned. “Oh, I would never harm the Eklektos.”

  Erik glanced nervously at her. “What about the Eklektos’s friends?”

  “Of course not,” the princess laughed. “That would upset the Eklektos.”

  “Yeah. I’m sure it would upset them, too,” Rose said with a frown. “Why do you all care so much about my feelings? And what’s w
ith this Eklektos crap?”

  Princess Myrinne’s mouth fell open. “Eklektos…crap?” she recited. Her brows twisted with confusion. “It’s what we call you. I thought you knew that.”

  “I don’t even know who this ‘we’ is!” Rose said. “I’ve never met you!”

  Recognizing Rose’s anxiety, Kara reached out, curling her fingers around Rose’s elbow. Her warm, gentle touch instantly soothed Rose, calming her a little.

  “I know you haven’t met me,” Princess Myrinne said, frowning. “I never said you had.” Her pale blue gaze shifted away, for a moment, and she turned, as Ligeia, the armor-clad vampire from earlier, approached. She flashed a quick smile at Rose. “Please, accept my apologies, my Eklektos. We can speak more later.”

  The princess’s unnecessarily polite responses only baffled Rose more.

  Ligeia didn’t bow, this time. She rushed forward to take the princess aside and whisper something in her ear. Rose thought it sounded like Greek—whatever Ligeia had said—but the words sounded more rounded, more otherworldly. Rose couldn’t make sense of them. Princess Myrinne nodded and then turned to Rose.

  “I must speak to someone,” the princess said. “I’ll only be gone for a few moments.” She cast a suspicious glance at Kara. “Please, just stay where you are.”

  Kara waited until the princess disappeared with Ligeia, before she turned toward Erik and Rose. With a sly smirk, she said, “Come. Let’s explore the ship.”

  “She said to stay here,” Rose said, “but sure, let’s completely ignore that.”

  Kara winked at her. Then, she turned and strolled toward the back of the ship, as if she knew her way around, already. Erik shoved his hands in his pockets and followed. Rose, however, at least checked to see if anyone was watching, first.

  The rear side of the ship was cooler, less shielded from the wind. There was still a stench of smoke and death in the air, but it was much less pronounced there. The cool breeze brought the scent of saltwater to wash away other scents.

  “It’s a nice ship,” Erik said, as he glanced around. “A bit dated, though.”