The Reign of Darkness

by Britney Jackson

  Kara reluctantly looked her way. “You actually have a reason this time?”

  “I happen to have something you want,” Alana said. She leaned forward, her heavy, blue dress hugging her slim, delicate figure. She lowered her voice to a whisper. “You’re looking for the location of the Assassins of Light, aren’t you?”

  Kara’s eyes widened. “You know where their monastery is?”

  Alana shrugged nonchalantly. “I know a guy who does.”

  Kara’s eyes narrowed. “If he knows, you know. You can read his mind.”

  “Yes, darling,” Alana said with a sweet smile, “but if I tell you, then I’m linked to your search. And Aaron is the one who ordered your search, is he not?”

  Kara’s expression hardened. “That’s none of your business.”

  “I’m only saying,” Alana said innocently, “that, considering his animosity toward me, it might be best if you can prove you got the information elsewhere.”

  “Fine,” Kara said. “I assume this assistance isn’t free. What’s your price?”

  Alana shrugged. “My room, upstairs, happens to have a very nice bed.”

  Kara lifted her eyebrows. “You want me to whore myself out to you?”

  Alana rolled her eyes. “Don’t be so dramatic,” she said, as if she had any room to talk. “We’re lovers, not strangers. And I’d like a night with my girlfriend.”

  Kara frowned, surprised by the mildness of the request. “Just one night?”

  “Oh, you were expecting our usual ten-year arrangement?” Alana said, her voice smooth and lilting. “I’m sorry to disappoint, but I think you and I both are a little busy for that. You—with those monks. And me…with my own plan.”

  Kara squinted suspiciously at that. “And what plan is that?”

  Alana waved her hand dismissively. “Oh, don’t worry yourself with me, darling,” she said with a seductive smile. “Just tell me if you’ll take the deal.” She reached under the table, discreetly sliding her fingers up the inside of Kara’s thigh. She smiled, as Kara’s breath quickened. “I’ll let you do whatever you want to me.”

  Kara caught Alana’s wrist, gripping it tightly. “Will you let me kill you?”

  Alana jerked her hand away. “Don’t be like that,” she said, a hint of pain flashing in her dark blue eyes. But then, that pain—that slight hint of humanity—vanished, and she smiled cruelly. “I know you miss me. I can see it in your mind.”

  Kara leaned back. “My mind is fucked up,” she muttered, pain and shame splitting her chest apart, like dual blades. “You shouldn’t trust it. I know I don’t.”

  “I can soothe your pain, darling,” Alana said, “and ease your loneliness.”

  Kara sighed, all of her resolve crumbling, at once. She did miss Alana, as screwed up as that was, and she did desperately need that information. “You win.”

  Alana straightened, smiling victoriously. “I knew you still needed me.”

  —

  Rose opened her eyes, suddenly, stunned by the searing ache in her chest. She frowned, brushing her fingertips over her chest. The ache was there, and yet, it wasn’t. It was distant and dull. Not a tangible feeling—but a ghost of one. Her brows creased with sympathy, as she realized that this was Kara’s ache. Not hers.

  Rose turned toward Kara, studying her with a pained frown. She noticed it, now—the lines and angles in her face, the quick, shallow bits of air that escaped her lips, the despair that seemed to emanate from somewhere, though Rose didn’t know where. She slid her hand gently over Kara’s arm, feeling her lean muscles.

  “Kara,” she whispered, shaking her gently. “Kara, wake up. It’s a dream.”

  Kara’s eyes fluttered open, the glassy blue piercing through, even before she fully opened them. She didn’t say anything. She just curled forward, pressing her face against Rose’s shoulder, sliding her arm around Rose’s waist. She gripped her tightly, her lips trembling against Rose’s shoulder. Rose remained completely still, for a moment, stunned by Kara’s unusual behavior. Even after a nightmare, Kara usually spoke—breathing Rose’s name or cursing Alana’s. But not this time.

  This time, she was silent—as she held Rose as close as possible, clinging to her like a lifesaver in deadly waters. Rose gently closed her arms around Kara, sliding her fingertips along Kara’s back, tracing soothing circles there. She worried about Kara, wondered what was going on in her mind, but she respected Kara’s need for silence. So, she didn’t pry. She just held her—content to do so, as long as Kara needed her, until the deep, hollow pain inside Kara’s chest ceased to exist.

  It was several hours later—nearly sunset—when Kara said, “Thank you.”

  Rose pressed her lips against Kara’s chest—in the exact spot she sensed the pain. “Anytime,” she whispered. “I’m glad to do it. Anytime you need me to.”

  Kara rolled away, suddenly, and the pain that Rose had soothed instantly returned. “I don’t need anyone,” she muttered, throwing the blankets off of her.

  Rose watched as Kara climbed out of bed, her stomach tightening, as she wondered what she’d said wrong. “I know you don’t. That’s not what I meant.”

  Kara wrapped a blue robe around herself. “Then, why did you say it?”

  Rose sat up, watching her with a pained look. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, as a lump of sadness formed in her throat. She waited for a few moments, as Kara struggled with the robe—giving Kara a chance to figure it out on her own. Then, she climbed out of bed and reached out, stopping just short of touching her. “It’s like a peplos. I’ve studied them before,” she said. “I can fix yours, if you want.”

  Kara just held up her hands in surrender. Her icy blue gaze shifted away, as Rose stepped closer. Peace washed over her, as soon as Rose’s fingers brushed her skin. She blew out a slow sigh, as Rose silently fixed the strange, ancient robes.

  “Their culture does seem pretty similar to Ancient Greece. I wonder if it existed in the same time period,” Rose said, looking up. “What do you think?”

  Kara’s piercing, blue gaze shifted back toward Rose. She’d yet to lower her hands, but her shoulders seemed much more relaxed. “I appreciate you trying to change the subject,” she sighed, “but you should wait for an apology first.”

  “I don’t need an apology,” Rose said. “I feel terrible. For upsetting you.”

  Kara dropped her hands, curling them around Rose’s wrists. “Rose,” she sighed, waiting for Rose’s bright blue gaze to meet hers. “It wasn’t you. I swear.”

  “I clearly hit a nerve,” Rose said with a skeptical frown. She intertwined her fingers with Kara’s, squeezing them tightly. “I know you don’t need anyone.”

  “Do you?” Kara said tiredly. “Because I don’t know if I…know that.”

  “What?” Rose breathed in disbelief. She stepped closer, releasing Kara’s hands, so that she could place her hand against Kara’s face. She watched, as Kara immediately closed her eyes and leaned into Rose’s touch. “Kara, you’re the most independent person I’ve ever met,” she laughed. “You’ve never needed anyone.”

  Pain twisted at the soft angles of Kara’s face. “Except Alana,” she stated.

  “You’re who you are, in spite of Alana,” Rose said, “not because of her.”

  Kara didn’t seem fully convinced, but she leaned forward, anyway, laying her head on Rose’s shoulder. “I’m sorry,” she breathed. Her arm curled around Rose’s back, holding her close. “You’re the last person I should ever lash out at.”

  Rose’s chest tightened. “Oh, Kara,” she sighed, “tell me what happened.”

  Kara released her and took a step back. She raked her hands through her blue and black hair, loosening a couple of tangles. That flawless façade of hers—laid-back and relaxed—came back, smoothing the distressed lines of her face and softening the flash of emotion in her eyes. “I woke up on the wrong side of the bed. That’s all,” she said with a wry smile, “and now, I owe my lover an apology.”

&n
bsp; “Does that mean the left side is the right side?” Rose teased, as she tried to adjust her robes, which dipped a little too low between her breasts. “Because that’s confusing.” She sighed in frustration. “When do we get our clothes back?”

  “Soon, I’m sure,” Kara said. But then, her gaze shifted down, and she grinned wickedly. “Though, now that I’ve seen you in this, I’m in less of a hurry.”

  Rose rolled her eyes playfully. “I don’t even know if I’m wearing it right.”

  Kara snorted at that, “I don’t think anyone’s going to complain, love.”

  Rose blushed at that, adjusting the top of the robes yet again. “Okay, but, umm,” she paused, looking up at Kara, “you don’t owe me an apology. All right?”

  Kara pouted, “Don’t take away my excuse to do naughty things to you.”

  Rose blinked. “You know, I’m really beginning to think your definition of apologizing is a bit, uhh,” she paused, her face reddening, “different from mine?”

  Someone knocked on the door, at that moment, and Kara glanced at the door with a sigh. She circled around Rose on her way to the door, pausing for the briefest moment, to whisper in Rose’s ear, “Guess I’ll have to apologize later.”

  Rose froze, as a warm rush of desire traveled through her. “Once again,” she said, when she remembered how to speak again, “I’m getting the impression that we are not talking about an apology.” She watched, as Kara opened the door.

  Kara leaned against the door, lifting her eyebrows at the energetic, blonde vampire and the clairvoyant vampire, beside her. “Oh. How lovely,” she quipped. “Someone must’ve called a convention of women-loving women. I love those.”

  Unlike many of the other people they’d met from this kingdom, Zosime wasn’t thrown off by Kara’s humor, in the least. Her dark, red lips curved into an amused smile. “If that were so, there’d be far more people here. Don’t you think?”

  Kara’s smile deepened. “On second thought, I think I might like it here.”

  Colina frowned at them. “We’re here to collect the Eklektos, actually.”

  Rose joined Kara by the door. “Collect me? What? Like a comic book?”

  Colina fell to her knees, earning an exasperated sigh from Rose. “I’m not familiar with that term, my Eklektos, but I assure you: I meant it respectfully.”

  “Umm, well, it’s like a…” Rose trailed off in confusion. “Never mind.”

  “Colina,” Kara said, peering out into the hall, “what’s in the basket?”

  Colina glanced behind her. She quickly climbed to her feet and grabbed the cylindrical basket. She held it out to them. “It’s your clothes. I washed them.”

  Rose took them, glancing at the clothes inside the roughly-woven basket. “Thanks,” she said, her gaze shifting up to meet Colina’s. “Seriously. Thank you.”

  Colina shrugged, a surprised smile softening her features. “It’s my job.”

  Kara watched Zosime curiously. “So, what are you…collecting her for?”

  “The royal family is meeting to discuss the war,” Zosime said. Her brown eyes—dark and knowing—shifted toward Rose. “And…to meet the Eklektos.”

  Rose rolled her eyes. “Why me?” she groaned. She glanced curiously at Colina. “And how many people are part of the princess’s family? Besides Colina.”

  Colina’s pale blue eyes widened. “She knows?” she hissed at Zosime.

  Zosime’s smile didn’t waver. “Careful, Colina. She doesn’t know much.”

  Rose flashed a sassy smile at her. “I thought you said we were friends.”

  “We will be,” Zosime assured Rose, her smile deepening, “in the future.”

  Kara crossed her arms. “If you want to take the woman I love to a place, where she will undoubtedly be in danger, you’re going to have to take me, too.”

  Colina frowned worriedly. “Oh. I’m sorry, but…they didn’t invite you.”

  Kara maintained eye-contact with Zosime. “I’m her warrior. I’m going.”

  Zosime gave a small nod—one that was clearly only meant for Kara. She turned to Colina. “Tell them that the Eklektos wants her personal warrior there.”

  Colina stepped back, her robes swaying around her feet. “Are you sure?”

  “Yes. They’ll grant that request,” Zosime assured her. As Colina hurried away, to do as Zosime asked, Zosime turned back toward them. “They might not trust someone’s lover, but everyone knows that an oath of fealty is unbreakable.”

  Rose frowned curiously at that. “Warriors are more trusted than lovers?”

  “Lovers always lie,” Zosime sighed, glancing at Kara. “Especially here.”

  Kara didn’t respond to that, but her light blue eyes flashed with worry.

  —

  “Wow,” Rose muttered, as she swept her gaze around the room, noticing all of the vampires with white-blonde hair. “The genes in this family were strong.”

  Kara closed the door. “I bet they all have the same mommy.”

  Rose laughed, “Or the same daddy.”

  Zosime’s gaze shifted toward Rose, but she said nothing.

  The throne room was part of the temple, apparently—but from the looks of it, only a small part of the temple. From the outside, the temple seemed almost as large as a cathedral. A bit shorter, perhaps, but just as expansive and every bit as beautiful. The entire structure was built from marble—glistening, white stone with gorgeous swirls of pale green, turquoise blue, and rose pink. Multiple kinds of flowers decorated every corner of the room, filling the room with a sweet scent.

  The throne wasn’t so much a throne, as it was a table—though there was clearly a place reserved at the head of the table for the princess. Princess Myrinne met Rose’s gaze, at that moment. She finished her wine, before leaving the table, to make her way over to Rose and Kara. She’d looked regal and impeccable, even in that thick, black cloak that she’d worn in the cave. But she’d clearly chosen her best clothing for tonight—a long, white gown made of silk and lace. She’d even worn a different crown. The crown she’d worn while traveling had looked more like a tiara—lightweight and short. This one was taller and heavier with larger, red stones embedded in the metal. Rose brushed her fingers over her necklace, struck, once again, by how much the crown’s stones resembled the Stone of the Eklektos.

  “Hello, Zosime,” Princess Myrinne said, as Zosime performed some sort of casual, almost-sarcastic curtsy. Rose smiled curiously, intrigued by the nuance of their relationship. Rose hadn’t seen the princess so casual around anyone else.

  Only Zosime.

  Even the formalities between them seemed only for show. Rose couldn’t help but wonder how difficult it had been for Zosime to forge a friendship with someone so closed off. The princess obviously liked to keep people at a distance.

  But she didn’t do that with Zosime. She stepped into her space, offering her a companionable smile. “I assume you are the reason Colina knew to phrase the request in the only way it’d get approved?” the princess murmured to Zosime.

  Zosime returned the smile. “I may have entertained some possibilities.”

  Princess Myrinne rolled her eyes, but the corners of her lips still curved a little. That smile faded, however, when she turned toward Kara. She took a step toward Kara, her pale blue eyes narrowing. “First impressions are important.”

  A smirk curved at the edges of Kara’s lips. “You’re not happy to see me.”

  “Not at all,” Princess Myrinne confirmed. Her gaze shifted briefly toward Zosime. “But since Zosime decided to interfere, I had no choice but to approve the request. But you’re here as her warrior. I expect a certain degree of propriety.”

  “So I can’t fuck her in the middle of the throne room?” Kara said bluntly.

  The perfectly polite expression on the princess’s face faded, suddenly—replaced by pure and utter disbelief. “This is going to be a disaster,” she muttered.

  Rose lifted her eyebrows. “I find it kind of funny
that you’re worried the suave, seductive warrior is going to mess things up. You know, instead of me, the Actual Disaster. My awkwardness causes more problems than her vulgar mouth.”

  Princess Myrinne frowned. “You’re…not really making me feel better.”

  Zosime laughed warmly. “It’ll be fine, princess. You just need to relax.”

  Princess Myrinne shot a peeved look at her. “You’re lucky I need you.”

  “Uh-huh,” Zosime said with a skeptical smile. “You’re lucky I like you.”

  Kara glanced back and forth between them, a slow smile spreading across her face. “So, the shrew has a soft spot, after all,” she said to Princess Myrinne.

  Princess Myrinne spun toward her and snarled, “Not one you’ll ever see.”

  Kara rocked back on her heels, grinning, as if Princess Myrinne’s reaction was exactly what she’d hoped for. “Oh, look. It’s that lovelorn warrior of yours.”

  Zosime glanced up at that, her smile fading, as she noticed Ligeia walking toward them. Ligeia’s gaze met hers briefly, before she turned to face the princess.

  Zosime looked down, her brown curls falling over her face. “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” she told Kara, as Ligeia spoke to the princess.

  “Ah,” Kara said. She smiled knowingly. “So, it’s not unrequited, then?”

  Zosime sighed—then smiled. “You do love to cause trouble, don’t you?”

  Kara’s light blue eyes sparkled with mischief. “Trouble’s my favorite.”

  As Kara teased Zosime, Rose listened closely to Ligeia and the princess, trying to make sense of what they were saying. Ligeia was whispering something in Skotalian again, as if she specifically didn’t want Rose and Kara to understand.

  The words sounded so familiar, so close to what Rose knew—and yet, different enough that she couldn’t make sense of them. Rose wondered if Kallias would’ve had more luck, if he were there. He knew Ancient Greek and the ancient dialects. Maybe that was closer to Skotalian than the Greek words that Rose knew.

  Then again, if what the princess had said was true, if Erastos had actually lived ten thousand years ago, then even Kallias’s language was new in comparison.