The Reign of Darkness

by Britney Jackson

  Erik plopped down in the armchair that was wedged in the corner of the room. “Except kill half an army with your mind,” he scoffed, “and save her life.”

  “But I didn’t save her life,” Rose said. “That…princess did. Somehow.”

  “Yeah, I filled her in on the princess part, too,” Erik said dismissively.

  “Which is interesting,” Elise said. She glanced at Kara. “Is she pretty?”

  Kara snorted in amusement. “Don’t worry,” she sighed. She held up both hands. “I plan to keep my hands off this one. I’m past my princess-fucking stage.”

  Rose frowned. “I mean, I had a grunge stage and a punk-rock stage and a watch-videos-of-pretty-violinists stage. But I seem to have skipped that one.”

  Kara chuckled at Rose’s snarky remark. “You like pretty violinists?”

  “I didn’t say that,” Rose muttered. “I just liked the music videos.”

  Kara raised an eyebrow. “Mm-hmm,” she said, her smile widening.

  Rose’s blush deepened, as she looked away, fixing her gaze on the planks of wood beneath her feet. “My type is vampires, apparently,” she mumbled under her breath. “Especially…beautiful warriors. With admittedly vulgar mouths.”

  Kara laughed, her icy blue eyes sparkling with amusement. “Admittedly.”

  Erik glanced back and forth. “Do we need to leave the room? Again?”

  Kara flashed a cocky smirk. “Nah. But I’ll let you know when you do.”

  Rose groaned miserably and flopped back on the bed, dragging the pillow down to cover her mortified face—much to the amusement of Erik and Elise.

  Still smiling, Elise turned back toward Kara. “What Erik didn’t explain is why we’re on a ship with people we don’t know. And where, exactly, we’re going.”

  “I didn’t tell you that,” Erik said with a scowl, “because I don’t know.”

  Kara crossed her arms. “Well, first, because the sun was rising, and it was a convenient escape. Second, because they offered to save your life,” she paused, her smile fading. “And third, because vampires and humans are officially at war.”

  Elise straightened. “Are you sure? But…we killed all of those Assassins.”

  “We killed a few leaders,” Kara corrected. “That would’ve crippled them, yes, but they would’ve recovered. There were others in line to take their place.”

  “Yeah, but,” Elise paused, “but the meeting wouldn’t have happened.”

  “We know that. The Assassins of Light know that,” Kara said, “but that’s all. I never had a chance to tell anyone else. Isaac betrayed us before I could.”

  Rose uncovered her face. “You think it was vampires that declared war.”

  “I think so,” Kara said, “and there’s only one reason we would have.”

  Rose sat up, her brows creasing with worry. “The bombs,” she breathed.

  Erik glanced back and forth between them. “What do you mean by that?”

  “She means,” Kara sighed, “that the Assassins of Light were planning to bomb another vampire colony. If that happened, vampires would declare war.”

  Elise scowled. “Wait, you knew they were going to bomb another colony, and you didn’t tell anyone?” she asked. When Kara simply stared back at her, she scoffed, “What if they’d bombed us? You didn’t think we deserved a warning?”

  “My spies were watching,” Kara assured her. “I would’ve warned you.”

  Erik rolled his eyes. “Yeah. When it was too late to do anything.”

  “Look, you can hate me, if you want, but I have a job,” Kara said frankly. She shrugged. “If the other vampires had found out, they would’ve declared war.”

  “They declared war, anyway,” Erik said. “What exactly did you solve?”

  Kara’s shoulders dropped—her confident stance suddenly deflating.

  Rose shot a peeved glare at Erik. “She tried, okay? Give her a break.”

  Kara’s gaze shifted toward Rose, emotions swirling in her light blue eyes.

  Elise just sighed. “So, in the event of war, what are we supposed to do?”

  Kara gazed at the floor, clearly still thinking about Erik’s remark. “In the event of war, the Commanders of Power and their Seconds would meet to decide what to do. Typically, they’d probably meet at the Tomb of Blood—with Aaron. But since Aaron is at the Village of the Undead, everyone will probably go there.”

  Elise frowned. “Then, shouldn’t we be headed there? Instead of…well, wherever we’re headed now? You, Rose, and Erik are all supposed to be there.”

  Kara’s intense gaze shifted up, to meet Elise’s. “We can’t. The Assassins of Light would expect us to go there. Isaac would’ve told them where we’d go.”

  “We beat one of their armies once, didn’t we?” Erik pointed out.

  “They wouldn’t attack us at night,” Kara said. “They thought they could take us last night—because we were trapped and outnumbered. But they clearly hadn’t factored Rose into the equation. They won’t make that mistake again.”

  “They’d attack us during the day,” Rose realized, “while we were asleep.”

  “And trapped inside our rooms,” Kara confirmed. “Unable to escape.”

  Rose looked at Elise. “There’s also the fact that the weird, bowing people want to take us to their kingdom—which exists, somehow—for some reason.”

  Elise smiled and lifted her eyebrows. “The weird, bowing people?”

  Kara chuckled, “Rose is getting more attention than she likes to get.”

  Elise giggled. “What kind of person doesn’t love attention?” she teased.

  “Introverts. People with social anxiety. Shy people,” Rose listed. “Me.”

  “Has anyone figured out why they’re bowing yet?” Elise asked, casting a curious glance at Erik and Kara. “Or why they seem so obsessed with Rose?”

  “I don’t know,” Erik said. “There’s nothing really interesting about her.”

  Rose flashed a sassy smile. “Oh, really? Not even the fact that I can make that painting fall on your head?” she asked, as a painting that hung directly above his head began to rattle against the wall. “Because I find that pretty interesting.”

  Erik glanced worriedly at the painting and then shot up out of the chair.

  Kara snorted in amusement. “I think it has something to do with the title they use for her: the Eklektos,” she told Elise. “It’s what they keep calling her.”

  “That guy called her that,” Elise said. “The one who looked like a ghost.”

  “His name is Erastos,” Rose said. “And Eklektos is Greek. For chosen.”

  Erik scrunched up his face in confusion. “Wait. Elise met Erastos, too?”

  “Chosen for what?” Elise said, ignoring him. “Like…to save the world?”

  “Or to be sacrificed to the gods,” Erik muttered under his breath.

  Rose grimaced. “Sometimes, it’s really obvious that you’re a Viking.”

  Kara laughed at that. “Only sometimes?”

  “I’m just saying,” Erik said, “never rule out human sacrifice.”

  Rose frowned—because she had about a million questions for that—but she didn’t have the time to ask any of them because the ship suddenly tilted again.

  Kara and Erik, who were the only ones standing, grasped the closest solid object to them to keep themselves upright—which, in Kara’s case, was the handle of the door, and in Erik’s case, was a large, oak dresser that set against the wall.

  Rose’s stomach lurched at the movement. “Why does it keep doing this?”

  Kara’s brows creased with worry. “Because we’re sailing into a storm.”

  —

  Rose found Princess Myrinne and her warrior, Ligeia, on the deck of the ship, far enough from the rail to avoid getting wet—but not far enough that they didn’t have to hold onto something, just to avoid falling. Rose marched straight up to the princess—with no hesitation whatsoever. “What the heck is going on?”


  Ligeia glanced back and forth between Rose and Princess Myrinne—torn between her promise to protect the princess and her duty to serve the Eklektos.

  Princess Myrinne turned to Rose, offering her that familiar, polite smile.

  Rose was starting to wonder if this princess knew any other expressions.

  “Why are we sailing into a storm?” Rose said. “Are you trying to kill us?”

  “With all due respect, my Eklektos,” Princess Myrinne said, undeterred by Rose’s anger, “I’ve spoken with the crew already. Everything is perfectly fine.”

  Kara came up beside Rose, grasping Rose’s elbow to steady her. Because, well, Rose wasn’t the most graceful person on land. Much less on a rocking ship. “What she’s neglecting to mention,” Kara added, her light blue eyes narrowing at the princess, “is that it won’t be perfectly fine for long.” She gestured at the sky behind her, where storm clouds turned the navy-blue sky starless and slate gray.

  “No offense, Viking,” Princess Myrinne said—causing Kara’s eyebrows to arch. “But this ship is a lot bigger than those little Viking ships you’re used to.”

  “Longships,” Kara chuckled, “is what we called them. Some even called them dragonships.” Her lips curved into a smug smirk. “And they weren’t small.”

  Princess Myrinne bristled at her tone. “I know what they were called.”

  Rose frowned suspiciously. “You seem to know a lot,” she pointed out, “about a lot of things. I mean, it’s almost as if, before we even met, you knew…”

  “The future?” Princess Myrinne said—before Rose finished. “We do.”

  Rose nodded. “One of you has precognitive abilities?” she assumed.

  “Not one of us on the ship,” Ligeia explained, “but one of our people.”

  Kara let out a short laugh. “So, they’re not even here? Seeing this storm?”

  “Her name is Zosime,” the princess said, “and you’ll meet her soon.”

  Kara smiled. “Well, if we’re putting our lives in her hands, I’d hope so.”

  “And she…what?” Rose said. “Told you that we’d be safe in this storm?”

  “She’s my advisor,” the princess said, “and she told us to take this route.”

  “What if she wants us dead?” Kara laughed. “What if she tricked you?”

  Ligeia—who had showed so little emotion, up until this point—suddenly straightened. “Zosime would never do such a thing,” she snarled, her brown eyes flashing with anger. “She’s compassionate and honorable. Far more so than you.”

  Kara lifted her eyebrows. “Ooh,” she said. An amused smile tilted at the corners of her lips. “Defensive. Let me guess. Lover?” When Ligeia’s dark brown eyes darkened even more, Kara chuckled. “No. You’re cold and stale. Like blood in a blood bag.” She trailed her gaze over Ligeia’s tall, muscular form. “Ex-lover.”

  Rose glanced back and forth between them—from Kara’s stance, which exuded confidence and sensuality, to Ligeia’s stance, which exuded, well, mostly just homicidal anger. She didn’t know who Zosime was or how Kara figured out that she was Ligeia’s ex-lover, but it did seem, as she watched Ligeia’s reaction, that Kara had hit that extra-sensitive nail perfectly on its extra-sensitive head. “Okay,” she said, softening her voice for the angry warrior, “I appreciate that you trust her. But I still think this is crazy. What if Zosime didn’t foresee this storm?”

  “She did,” Princess Myrinne assured her. “She wouldn’t have advised the route, if she hadn’t explored the future in its entirety.” Her lips turned up at the corners. “Besides, there’s no chance of the ship capsizing while you are on it.”

  Rose scrunched up her face in confusion. “What do you mean by that?”

  Princess Myrinne watched over Rose’s shoulder, as a wave swelled above them. “Surely, you know, my Eklektos, that nature is no match for your power,” she said, barely even flinching as the waves rocked the ship. “You could save us.”

  Rose stared at her in disbelief. “You’re kidding, right? You’re not actually putting your lives in my hands, are you?” she said, her voice rising in anxiety. The water seemed to respond to her voice, rising in sync with it. “I can barely control my power on a normal night! Much less when I’m still recovering from overuse!”

  Ligeia turned to Princess Myrinne, careful to keep her grasp tight around the pole she’d been holding onto. “Princess, what if she’s right?” she said, yelling over the roar of the waves. “If the Eklektos is suffering from overuse already…”

  She never finished that sentence—because at that moment, a wave that had swelled high above the ship crashed against the side with enough force to tip them. The deck tilted, and Rose and Kara, who hadn’t been holding onto anything other than each other, slipped across it. Kara stood closer to the rail and would’ve went overboard—if Rose hadn’t used her power. Red flashed within Rose’s eyes.

  She lifted the ship above the waves, pulling it upright and holding it still.

  Water poured around them, as it washed overboard, back into the ocean.

  Kara climbed onto her knees, staring at the waves that she’d almost fallen into. She turned, glancing back at Rose, who stood upright, her eyes glowing red.

  “As I said,” Princess Myrinne said, barely even breathless, “nature is no match for the Eklektos.” She was the only one of them who hadn’t seemed even a tiny bit alarmed by the near accident. “Now, if you’ll excuse us,” she said, as she stepped away from the pole. “I’ll need to—somehow—explain this to the crew.”

  Ligeia bowed to Rose, her eyes wide—before rushing after the princess.

  Rose raced to Kara’s side and helped her to her feet. “Are you okay?”

  Kara straightened her shoulders, turning toward Rose with the balance of someone who hadn’t almost fallen overboard. She cast another glance toward the reckless waves, which no longer had any effect on the ship—at all—and let out a breathless laugh. “That is magnificent! Did you know you could do that?”

  Rose glanced around, at the perfectly balanced ship, and shrugged. “Not really,” she said dismissively. She returned her gaze to Kara. “Are you all right?”

  “Of course,” Kara said. She stepped closer to Rose. “Are you?” She lifted her hand, brushing her fingers along the side of Rose’s head. “No symptoms?”

  Rose couldn’t help the small spark of desire that buzzed under her skin, when Kara touched her face, then her hair. “I’m fine,” she said, blushing. “I think, after the blood-sharing, last night and this morning, I should be fine. For a while.”

  Kara smiled seductively. “I think you could handle a little more, actually.”

  Rose’s expression—wide-eyed and open-mouthed—earned yet another laugh from Kara. “Umm,” Rose managed to stammer, after a moment, “blood?”

  Kara’s shoulders shook with laughter. “Obviously,” she said, as she took a step back. “What else?” She winked, before strolling toward the rail of the ship.

  Rose didn’t even have time to make sense of that—because she suddenly realized where Kara was headed. “Be careful,” she called, scrambling after Kara.

  Kara turned and leaned against the rail, her elbows on the rail, her back to the violent ocean. “What’s wrong, sexy? Don’t you trust your own power?”

  “I don’t know,” Rose said. She buried her hands in the front pocket of her hoodie, frowning, as she found a few grains of sand in there, too. It was clearly multiplying, at this point. “But I wish everyone else would trust it a little less.”

  Kara flashed a playful smile at her. “Sorry, love. I trust you completely.”

  Rose’s brows furrowed. Because Kara hadn’t said that she trusted Rose’s power. She’d said she trusted Rose. Which was…an unusual confession for Kara, especially considering her playful tone. Rose wondered how sincerely Kara meant it—or if Rose were just overthinking. Like usual. “With your life, apparently.”

  “Maybe,” Kara said, her lips curvi
ng, “or maybe I just like the danger.”

  With a small quirk of her eyebrows, Rose stepped forward, resting her hands on the metal rail, glancing out at the violent, black-as-night waves. The air smelled of salt and ozone, and it felt warmer than usual—humid and electrically-charged. She glanced at Kara, noticing how her sleek, black clothes blended into the darkness, how even the blue strands of her hair looked black in the shadows.

  Kara flashed a knowing smile at her. “The ocean’s the other way, sexy.”

  Rose blushed. “I know,” she muttered, returning her gaze to the water. “I was just looking at…something.” Her blush deepened, as Kara laughed at her.

  Kara shook her head. “Still too shy to admit how hot you are for me?”

  “I’ve admitted plenty of things,” Rose said indignantly. She cast another curious glance at Kara. “It seemed like you touched a nerve earlier. With Ligeia.”

  Kara chuckled, “Yeah. That was fun.” She tilted her head to the side, her dark hair falling over her leather jacket. “Your pronunciation is…uncannily good. Anyone else would stumble over a name like that, but you say it just like they do.”

  “It’s a Greek name,” Rose said, without thinking. “I’m fluent in Greek.”

  Kara’s eyebrows lifted. “So, they’re Greek? And you understand them?”

  Rose winced a little. “I wish. I tried to understand what they were saying yesterday, and I couldn’t make sense of it. It sounds like Greek, but it just…isn’t.”

  Kara nodded thoughtfully. “Their languages might have similar origins. Like the Germanic languages. Icelandic still sounds a lot like Old Norse, after all.”

  Rose considered that. “So, you think their ancestors might be Greek?”

  Kara shrugged one shoulder. “Or the other way around,” she suggested. She lifted an eyebrow. “They do smell of age, after all. They’re obviously ancient.”

  “More ancient than Ancient Greece?” Rose said skeptically. Her brows furrowed. “But that would make these vampires older than Aaron. Wouldn’t it?”

  “It would,” Kara said. The corners of her lips twitched a little. “Not one. Not two. But several—maybe even many—vampires that are older than Aaron.” She laughed, “He’s going to lose his mind when he finds out. Do you know that?”