After several moments of rest, of them sitting together, limbs entangled, Kara pressed her soft, warm lips against Rose’s smooth, freckled shoulder. Then, Kara lay back, her muscles flattening beneath Rose’s thighs. Her black-and-blue hair fanned out over the pillow, contrasting starkly with the white linen. Her eyes slid closed, her bare chest rising and falling, as she rested. Rose smiled at the sight, at the beauty of Kara’s soft, fair skin, of Kara’s thin, slightly curved, pink lips. She climbed off of Kara and lay down beside her, curling up around Kara’s lean form.
Kara’s lips quirked up at the edges. “It’s hard to stay pissed at you when you keep doing…that,” she murmured, her accent stronger than usual, “to me.”
Rose lifted her head. “Umm,” she sputtered, blinking, “you’re angry?”
Kara opened her eyes, pinning Rose with her icy blue gaze. “You should have told me,” she stated. She turned onto her side, facing Rose. “When it started: the headaches, the dizziness, the nausea—I wish you would have told me then.”
“It was pretty sudden,” Rose said softly, “and I was worried about Elise.”
“I know,” Kara said. She reached out, pushing Rose’s messy, red hair out of her face. “I was, too. But that wouldn’t have stopped me from helping you.”
“I was fine,” Rose said. “Elise was dying. She needed the help. Not me.”
“She got help. You’re the one who didn’t,” Kara told her. She curled her fingers around Rose’s hips, tugging Rose closer, until Rose’s body pressed against hers. “I’m your warrior,” she said. “I need you to let me do what I swore to do.”
That soft, breathless growl—so full of emotion and vulnerability—sent a shiver of warmth through Rose’s body. There was something about that side of Kara—so honest and raw—that Rose couldn’t help but respond to. “I know your oath is important to you,” Rose sighed, “but to me, it’s…” she trailed off. “I want to protect you, too, Kara. I want to protect everyone, actually. But especially you.”
“I know, ást,” Kara murmured. She tilted her face toward Rose’s, leaving just an inch or so between their lips. “But I was fine, and you weren’t.” She sighed, “You don’t have to throw yourself on a sacrificial stone every time you see one.”
Rose blinked in shock. Her chest tightened, anxiety buzzing in her head.
Kara shook her head. “I’m sorry. That was… I shouldn’t have said that.”
“No,” Rose breathed. “No, it… It’s fine.” She rolled onto her back, her brows creased with pain, as she stared at the ceiling. “Self-destructive tendencies. That’s what my therapist used to call it. He said that it was part of my depression.”
“I know,” Kara said, her voice almost inaudible. “It was in your file. The Assassins of Light—they had access to that, too.” She slid closer to Rose, folding her arm beneath her head. “I’m sorry. It’s a personal thing. They shouldn’t have known about it. I shouldn’t know, either—not before you were ready to tell me.”
Rose nodded slowly. “It does feel…invasive. Them, I mean. Not you.”
“I just worry,” Kara confessed. “I want to know that you’ll tell me when you’re not fine.” She reached out, trailing her finger along Rose’s jaw. “That’s all.”
“I’m sorry,” Rose breathed out. “I thought I was doing the right thing.”
Kara shrugged one of her shoulders. “I wouldn’t know about that,” she muttered. She cracked a small smile. “Morals aren’t really my thing.” She watched the corners of Rose’s lips twitch. “But…what if I hadn’t known? What if I hadn’t been with Alana long enough to recognize the symptoms of overuse? Can you imagine how alarming it would be, if you’d just passed out—with no warning?”
Guilt twisted at Rose’s stomach. “Oh, gosh. You’re right. I feel terrible.”
Kara scoffed, “Don’t feel terrible.” She sat up, leaning over Rose. “Call me a hypocrite—for wanting the truth from you when I’m nothing but a liar.”
Rose’s bright blue gaze shifted toward her. “But you’re so much more.”
“Call me an asshole, then,” Kara said, her brows furrowed, “something.”
“I’m not going to call you anything, Kara,” Rose laughed. “You’re right. I should have told you. It’s what I’d want, if it were you suffering from overuse.”
Kara jumped on top of Rose, suddenly, straddling her hips. She clasped Rose’s wrists in her hand and pinned them against the pillow. “Lying down and admitting defeat?” she said, her light blue eyes sparkling. She leaned forward, her dark, silky hair falling between them. “I am so disappointed in you, Rose Foster.”
Rose swallowed, heat washing over her, as she felt Kara’s wetness against her stomach. She laughed breathlessly, “There’s just no pleasing you, is there?”
Kara raised an eyebrow at that, a flirty smirk tilting at the corners of her lips. “Oh, there is most certainly…pleasing me,” she said suggestively. She rocked forward, grinding against Rose. “You already proved that, didn’t you? Twice.”
As another rough wave rocked the ship, Rose felt a little like those waves were washing over her, as well—dousing her with hot water, leaving her feverish and shivering. “You’re terrible,” Rose tried to say. But since she was apparently too turned on to speak actual words, the only thing that came out were a couple of unintelligible sounds. Kara found that highly amusing, much to Rose’s dismay.
Kara tilted her face closer, her mouth brushing Rose’s. “You’d be right to call me a hypocrite. I don’t deserve your trust, and yet, I ask for it, anyway.”
Rose met Kara’s gaze. “I do trust you,” she confessed. “I always have.”
“Well, that’s terribly reckless,” Kara said with a playful smile, “and totally dismissive of the fact that I have lied for a living for fourteen hundred years.”
“I do tend to be a bit reckless,” Rose admitted, “or so I’ve heard.”
Kara slid her hand between them. She slipped her hand into Rose’s pants and then into her panties, tracing her finger over the warm, wet skin, causing Rose to gasp against her. Kara leaned in, her lips curving, as she whispered, “So do I.”
Rose tilted her head back, pressing her lips tightly together, in an effort to suppress the moan building up in her throat. A soft hum came out, instead.
Kara watched Rose, her entire body reacting to the sight of Rose wound up, to the sensation of her wet beneath Kara’s fingers. Hunger burned inside her throat, like fire, and desire pulsed within her, like electricity. “How do you feel?”
Rose opened her eyes, her brows furrowing. “I…would’ve thought you’d know how I…feel,” she stammered, blushing, “considering what you’re doing.”
Kara chuckled. “I meant the overuse. Not the fact that you’re aroused.”
“Oh,” Rose mumbled, her blush deepening. Kara’s bluntness was doing nothing to ease the awkwardness of the moment. “Umm…yeah, I’m fine.” When Kara leaned back, lifting her eyebrows, Rose quickly added, “I mean it, this time!” She smiled. “I really am fine. I was feeling weak, still, when I woke up, but after I fed from you…again,” she paused, “the symptoms went away. I feel great now.”
“Good,” Kara said with a wide, wolfish smile, “because I’m starving.”
—
Princess Myrinne was only halfway finished brushing her hair when she heard a knock at her door. She glanced at her mirror, at the partially straightened, pale blonde hair, and set aside her brush. She grabbed her long, black cloak and wrapped it around the sheer, white gown she’d worn to bed—before she headed toward the door that joined her bedroom to her personal warrior, Ligeia’s room.
The princess opened the door, frowning, as she found Ligeia in the black, leather armor she often wore at night. “You didn’t sleep in your armor, did you?”
Ligeia bent forward, her black, braid falling forward, as she bowed to the princess. “I didn’t want to be unprepared, should someone attack you, princess.”
Princess Myrinne’s eyebrows lifted. “Oh, Ligeia,” she sighed, an amused smile tugging at her lips. “I appreciate your dedication, but that’s a little…much.”
They spoke in their own language now, since the Eklektos wasn’t around. It was an old, long-forgotten language—though some of it had lived on in Greek.
Ligeia straightened. “With all due respect, your Highness, I disagree,” she said firmly. “I am your personal warrior, and right now, I am your only defense.”
“You know I’m quite capable of defending myself,” the princess assured her. “Besides, who would attack me during the day? You’re the only vampire with access to my room—that wouldn’t need to step out in the sunlight, of course.”
“The crew is human,” Ligeia reminded her. “There’s also the Eklektos.”
“If the Eklektos chooses to kill me, there is nothing anyone can do about it,” Princess Myrinne said. She sighed, “And your allegiance is to her, before me.”
Ligeia frowned. “I swore fealty to you. Surely, that is more important…”
“Nothing is more important,” Princess Myrinne snarled. “I might be your ruler, but the Eklektos is…much more. I won’t have anyone forgetting that.”
“Of course, your Highness,” Ligeia sighed, bowing again. “Forgive me.”
The princess stepped aside. She held out her arm, gesturing for Ligeia to step inside. “Come on inside,” she suggested. “The sun is setting soon, anyway.”
“Yes, your Highness,” Ligeia said, as she joined the princess in her room.
Princess Myrinne closed the door. “So, what brings you to my room?”
“I heard you awake,” Ligeia said. “I wanted to make sure you were okay.”
“The waves are rough,” the princess sighed, sitting again, in front of her mirror. She picked up her brush. “It’s hard to sleep in such turbulent conditions.”
“Yes,” Ligeia agreed, watching as the princess dragged the brush through her pale blonde hair. “Should we contact the crew? Perhaps, change our course?”
The princess paused, watching as her brows furrowed in her reflection. She turned in her chair, frowning at Ligeia. “No,” she said with a bemused laugh. “Why would we? Zosime said we’d be safe on this course. Do you not trust her?”
“Of course I trust her,” Ligeia sighed. She looked away. “I always have.”
Princess Myrinne glanced briefly at Ligeia’s reflection, a smile turning up at the corners of her lips. But when Ligeia’s dark brown eyes shifted her way, she quickly returned to brushing her hair, pursing her lips to hide her smile. “Then, I see no reason to change course,” she said simply. “Even if we do sail into a storm, we’ll be fine—according to Zosime. If the Eklektos or her friends are harmed by humans, however,” she paused, breathing out a shaky sigh, “no one will be fine.”
“About that,” Ligeia began. “I thought the Eklektos would be more…”
Princess Myrinne didn’t need to hear the rest of Ligeia’s sentence. She’d already nodded in agreement. “She’s not what I expected, either,” she admitted.
“You’re sure it’s her, though?” Ligeia asked, tucking her arms behind her.
The princess laughed, “You saw what she did out there. It’s her, all right.”
“I thought she’d be scarier,” Ligeia muttered. “More commanding.”
The princess raised an eyebrow. “I just expected someone who was less of a mess,” she said in a baffled tone. “And someone who kept better company.”
Ligeia laughed at that. “You’re not a big fan of her warrior, are you?”
Princess Myrinne looked back at the mirror, rolling her eyes. “Not at all.”
—
Rose shook her blue jeans, watching as grains of sand fell out of the legs. “I knew there would be sand in my shoes, but I didn’t think it’d be in everything.”
Kara glanced at Rose, chuckling, as she finished sliding on her own pants.
“So, how exactly are we going to handle our lack of clean clothes?” Rose asked, as she stepped into her jeans. “We didn’t exactly pack any bags, after all.”
“I wasn’t planning on being gone long,” Kara admitted. She grabbed her shirt, shaking it out quickly, before tugging it on. She cast a mischievous look at Rose. “Personally, I’m all right, if we have to walk around naked for a few days.”
Rose blushed, her bright blue eyes shifting toward Kara. “Well, I’m not.”
Kara laughed. She crossed her arms, watching as Rose scraped the sand off her rainbow-striped socks. “Either way. I’ve never minded being a bit dirty.”
Rose tried to keep a straight face—tried to act like, you know, a normal adult or something—but she eventually dissolved into giggles. “You’re terrible.”
Kara smiled. She loved the sight of Rose laughing—the way every muscle in her face relaxed, the way her cheeks flushed, the way her full, pink lips curved, the way her fangs flashed—because Rose wasn’t that practiced at hiding them yet.
“What does that look mean?” Rose asked, interrupting Kara’s thoughts.
Kara shrugged lazily. “Just thinking about your mouth.”
Rose blinked, her mind whirling with all of the things that Kara could’ve meant by that. Kara didn’t clarify, either. She just watched with that sly, seductive smirk of hers, as Rose’s face turned five different shades of red. “Umm, anyway,” Rose stammered, as she picked up her shoes, “when do you think we’ll go back?”
“Go back where?” Kara asked. “Talulah’s colony? Or Kallias’s house?”
“Either?” Rose said. “But the Village of the Undead, first, I assume.”
Kara moved to sit on the bed, next to Rose. “I don’t know,” she admitted honestly. She reached out, taking a lock of Rose’s fiery-red hair and moving it out of her face. “Ships aren’t the fastest method of travel, as it is, and there’s no telling where these vampires are taking us. Not to mention, the war. It could be months.”
Rose tried not to react to that, even as fear tightened in her chest, even as dread plunged in her stomach. Kara had said that it could be months. What she hadn’t said—but had implied—was that it could be longer. With war breaking out all over the world, they might never return. Or they might return and find no one alive. She turned her shoes over, watching as the sand poured out of them.
Kara chuckled at the sheer amount of sand that had managed to find its way into Rose’s worn-out Converse. “I think it’s time to get new shoes, love.”
“I’ve had these for six years,” Rose grumbled. “They’re great shoes.”
“I’m sure they are,” Kara said, “but they’re torn in about thirteen places.”
Rose paused, gazing sadly at the shoes. “My brother gave them to me.”
Kara’s smile faded. “Ah,” she said. She reached out and covered Rose’s hand with her own. Her fingers brushed the canvas material of the sneakers that Rose held in her hands. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you think about…that.”
“Oh, Kara,” Rose laughed, her bright blue eyes glistening with tears. She curled her fingers around Kara’s. “You have nothing to apologize for.” She leaned her head against Kara’s shoulder. “He stole them, anyway. Freaking criminal.”
Kara saw through Rose’s attempt to sound light-hearted. It was the way Rose coped with her pain, the way she’d always coped with it. But Kara had too much respect for Rose’s strength and resilience to point it out. “I stole mine, too.”
Rose glanced up at her and smiled. “Yeah, well, you’re a criminal, too.”
“But you love me, anyway,” Kara teased. She tilted her face closer, lifting her eyebrows playfully, as her breath caressed Rose’s lips. “Because I’m so hot.”
Rose snorted, bursting into a fit of laughter. “That is not why I love you.”
Kara glanced at the door, as she noticed the sound of footsteps, moving closer to their room. She inhaled deeply, instantly recognizing the scent. “Elise.”
�
��And Erik,” Rose said—no longer laughing. She watched, as Kara stood and made her way over to the door. Kara opened the door and leaned against it.
Elise stood in the doorway, her lips curving into an amused smile, as she glanced from Kara, who still hadn’t buttoned her pants or pulled her shirt down, to Rose, who still hadn’t put on her shoes. “I was concerned that you two would stay up all day, worrying about me, but it seems you stayed up for other reasons.”
Rose blushed. “I…always sleep without shoes, actually,” she mumbled.
Kara chuckled. “And I usually sleep in underwear, at most,” she stated. Angling a suggestive smirk at Elise, she added, “Not that I need to tell you that.”
“Yes,” Elise said with a smile, “I am fully-aware of what you like in bed.”
“This is,” Rose muttered, her face reddening, “getting kind of awkward.”
Elise giggled and stepped inside the room. She stopped in front of Rose, lifting her eyebrows, as her blue-gray gaze dropped to Rose’s feet. “Nice socks.”
Rose glanced down at her own rainbow-striped socks and then at Elise’s feet, which were bare. “Nice…lack of socks,” she countered, squinting curiously.
Elise lifted her foot, wiggling her toes. “Took off my shoes at the beach.”
Rose’s eyes widened. “Oh! I didn’t even think to grab them. I’m sorry!”
Kara grabbed Erik by the shoulder and shoved him into the room. As he stumbled into the room, blinking at her, she ducked her head through the door, checking to see if anyone else was outside their room. “It looks clear,” Kara said, mostly to herself. She closed the door and leaned against it, crossing her arms.
Elise laughed in disbelief. “You saved my life, and you’re apologizing for not saving my shoes, too?” She sat down on the bed, next to Rose, and smiled. “I don’t care about the shoes, Rose. I’m glad you saved me. I owe you my life.”
“What?” Rose said. “You don’t owe me anything. I didn’t do anything.”
The Reign of Darkness Page 6