Rose grasped the corner of Kara’s shirt with her free hand, so rattled by emotion, in that moment, that she felt as if she had to ground herself somehow. She closed her eyes and held her breath, afraid she’d burst into tears, if she didn’t.
Kara’s fingers tilted Rose’s face toward hers, and her mouth met Rose’s.
Rose gasped against her, her held breath spilling out. She heard the clang of something hitting the floor, before she realized she’d let go of her dagger. She clutched Kara’s shirt with both hands, now, the thin fabric twisting between her fingers. She felt Kara’s stomach against her fingers, as Kara leaned closer, pressing her tongue into Rose’s mouth. Gasping again, she pushed against Kara’s stomach.
“We should,” Rose said breathlessly, as Kara pulled back, “get dressed.”
Kara opened her eyes, her icy blue gaze dark and intense. “Yeah. Okay.”
—
“It’s a bit bulkier than my armor was,” Kara commented, as she fastened the leather armor, “but it’s also lighter and more comfortable. I like it, actually.”
Rose turned, glancing curiously at the black, leather armor that molded perfectly to Kara’s lean form. It looked thicker and less flexible than the kind of leather pants Kara often wore, but it also looked sturdier and safer. The leather was thickest in her most vulnerable areas, but the extra layers were barely visible.
If you’d asked Rose before that night how a woman would look in armor, in this day and age, she would’ve said strange. Comical, even. Yet, somehow, Kara made it look totally natural. She’d traded her usual, laid-back, rebellious look for a look that was dangerous, strong, and intimidating. The only thing strange about her, at the moment, was perhaps the blue hair, which looked a bit…anachronistic.
Kara turned, her lips curving at the corners, as she noticed Rose watching her. “Well, I’d check a mirror, but the look on your face is encouraging enough.”
Rose’s face reddened. “The look on my face is curiosity. Nothing more.”
“Liar,” Kara laughed, her icy blue eyes sparkling. “Curiosity about what?”
Rose winced. She hadn’t thought that far into the lie yet. “Umm…I was,” she sighed, as Kara laughed at her, “wondering what you looked like as a human.”
Kara looked down, adjusting something on her hip. “I was a lot lankier.”
“I’m sure there were other differences,” Rose said, her curiosity honestly piqued now. “You didn’t dye your hair back then. And your armor was different.”
“My hair was long and blonde. We all had long hair then,” Kara said, a nostalgic smile pulling at her lips. “I kept it braided, so it wouldn’t tangle as badly, but it was still messy as hell. Thank the gods you humans invented hair products.”
Rose laughed and stepped closer. She reached up and slipped her fingers into Kara’s black and blue hair, watching as the silky strands clung to her fingers. “Well,” she murmured, as Kara’s eyes fluttered closed, “it’s not very messy now.”
“I only dyed it to piss Alana off,” Kara chuckled, “but then, I liked it.”
Rose felt a familiar flare of anger in her stomach—one that burned each time she learned of some new manipulation that Alana had put Kara through. “I like it, too,” she said softly, “but I know you’d be beautiful with any hair color.”
Kara opened her eyes, pinning Rose with that intensely blue gaze. “Well, of course I would,” she said with a cocky grin—even as a very different emotion burned in her eyes. She tilted her head to the side, affection softening her features.
Rose stepped back. “And the armor? What kind of armor did you wear?”
“A layer of chainmail over a layer of brown leather,” Kara said. “It wasn’t the most attractive armor, but it served its purposes.” Her lips curved up at the edges—into a wide, knowing smile. “This armor is a bit more pleasing to the eye.”
Rose nodded, her brows furrowing. “And you usually wore a helmet?”
“Sure,” Kara said, amused by Rose’s questions. “But not a horned one.”
“Of course not. That part’s myth,” Rose said distractedly. She rested her hip against the couch, staring intensely at Kara. “I’m creating a mental picture.”
“Mm-hmm,” Kara murmured, “and do you like this mental picture?”
An embarrassed smile curved at the corners of Rose’s lips. “Maybe.”
“You should ask Owen about the book the Assassins of Light had,” Kara told her. “They have a portrait of me—with my Norse armor and blonde hair.”
Rose frowned. “Wait. Did you…wear your Norse armor as a vampire?”
“Occasionally,” Kara said. “It was easier to pass as a human that way.”
“But for how long?” Rose said. “You must’ve changed styles eventually.”
Kara turned toward Rose, suddenly noticing her tone. “What’s wrong?”
Rose gave her an uneasy shrug. “It’s probably nothing,” she sighed. “I’m just…kind of wondering how the Assassins of Light would get a picture of you.”
“It was painted by an artist,” Kara said. “Probably one of the monks.”
“Yeah,” Rose agreed, “but why would they paint you in Norse armor?”
“When they’d never seen it before,” Kara realized, her eyes widening.
“They were all humans, right?” Rose said worriedly. “Except for Isaac?”
“And even Isaac wasn’t old enough to have seen that,” Kara muttered.
“So, who could’ve painted the picture, then?” Rose asked, talking mostly to herself. “Who is old enough to have known what you looked like back then?”
“Alana,” Kara breathed out—almost inaudibly. “Alana knew me then.”
Rose frowned sympathetically. “And Alana might have been connected to the Assassins of Light,” she sighed, “if what Isaac told you about her was true.”
“She hated humans—and hated bigots even more,” Kara said, her brows twisting with confusion. “I don’t understand why she’d help someone she hated.”
“It could still be a lie,” Rose reminded her. “It may not have been her.”
“I wish I could contact my spies,” Kara sighed. “I could figure this out.”
“I wish you could, too,” Rose said. “I also wish we could just…leave?”
Kara flashed a weak—but playful—smile. “It’s just a social event, Rose.”
“Just?” Rose exclaimed. “There is no such thing as just a social event!”
Kara laughed at her outburst. “Especially not among ancient vampires.”
Rose returned to the bed, regarding her own pile of clothes with a scowl. “Okay. So, umm, which item of clothing do I start with?” She picked up a piece of silky fabric, examining it with a frown. “I have no earthly clue what this is.”
Kara stepped closer and took the item of clothing from Rose’s hands. “That, my love,” she said with an amused smile, “would be your underwear.”
“Oh,” Rose said, her cheeks reddening. “Okay. Then, where’s the bra?”
Kara chuckled, “There isn’t one.” She stepped past Rose, toward the bed.
“Oh,” Rose said again, wrinkling her nose at the silk clothing. “Great.”
Kara sifted through the pile of silk, spreading out each item of clothing over the bed. “This is your shirt. These are your trousers. And this is your coat.”
Rose raised an eyebrow at her. “You seem familiar with the style.”
“Vaguely,” Kara said. “It reminds me of eighteenth-century fashion.”
Rose frowned at that. “But their culture is much older than that, isn’t it?”
Kara shrugged. “Maybe their fashion evolved over the years, like human fashion did. Or perhaps, it just expanded.” She trailed her fingertips over the silk shirt. “It’s a little like the French style,” she realized, “but more silk, less ruffles.”
“I can solve complicated equations, memorize entire encyclopedias, and learn new languages,” Rose said
, “but I don’t think I can figure out these clothes.”
Kara settled back comfortably. “No, but it’ll be fun to watch you try.”
—
“I think I’m just going to leave it like this,” Rose sighed, after struggling with the shirt and trousers for an exhausting amount of time. She dropped her hands to her sides and turned toward Kara. And froze—because Kara was leaning back on her hands, staring up at Rose with those piercing, blue eyes of hers. Kara swept her gaze downward, and a deep, wolfish smile spread across her face.
“That,” Kara said, pausing to lick her lips, “is absolutely fine with me.”
Rose followed Kara’s gaze and blanched, as she realized that her cream-colored, silk shirt was practically see-through. “Nope! Nope, nope,” she said, as she spun around to grab the coat. She fumbled with the coat for a while—trying and failing—to close it over her very visible breasts. “Where are the buttons?!”
Kara chuckled, amused by her frustration. “Use the sash.”
Rose looked up at her. “The sash?”
Kara smiled and stood. She grabbed a piece of red silk that was still lying on the bed and stepped closer to Rose, wrapping the sash around Rose’s waist, like a belt, and then, pulling it over the coat. The silk clothing felt soft against her fingertips, and Rose’s curves felt even softer under her hands. And even though she’d just watched Rose struggle for fifteen minutes, putting on the clothes, Kara desperately wanted to rip them off again. She chuckled, as Rose’s cheeks flushed.
Rose cleared her throat, trying to think of something other than the lust that she could see so clearly in Kara’s icy blue eyes, trying to focus on something other than the desire she felt spreading through her own body in response. “I’m suddenly feeling really grateful to whoever invented the T-shirt,” she muttered.
Kara laughed at that. She finished tying the sash and stepped back, once again trailing her gaze over Rose’s curves, which were far more visible than usual, in the thin, silk clothes. “Well, for the record, you look irresistibly sexy right now.”
Rose gave her a skeptical look. “I look like I’m cosplaying as Lestat,” she muttered dryly. Then, she swept her gaze over Kara’s tall, lean form, clad in black, leather armor. “With a date who’s cosplaying as a warrior from an RPG game.”
Kara tilted her head, squinting curiously at her. “What is cosplaying?”
Rose lifted her eyebrows. “I’m the first geek you’ve ever dated, aren’t I?”
“Is it like a sexual thing?” Kara said with a sly smile. “Like role-play?”
Rose frowned. “No,” she said slowly. “That’s…definitely not what it is.”
“Are you sure?” Kara said, her icy blue eyes sparkling. “Because it sounds similar. You know…one person dresses up like a sexy teacher, and the other…”
A sudden knock at the door interrupted their very unusual conversation.
Rose closed her eyes, sighing in relief. “Thank God someone interrupted. Because I really didn’t want to have to explain the difference in that and cosplay.”
Kara laughed at her, as she headed toward the door.
—
Princess Myrinne sighed, when Kara opened the door. “I see Zosime got her way, after all,” she muttered, sweeping her gaze over Kara’s leather-clad form.
Kara stepped out of her way, as she entered the room. “Can I keep it?”
The princess rolled her eyes. “This is what I get for making my advisor’s ex-lover the commander of my army,” she complained. “I told Ligeia to say no.”
Kara smiled, as the princess continued to ignore her. “I’m keeping it.”
When Princess Myrinne saw Rose, she fell to her knees, her dress pooling on the floor, beneath her. She pressed her fist against her chest, like she’d done when they met—that strange, circular symbol visible on the back of her hand.
Kara lifted her eyebrows, noticing—yet again—that the princess only did this when they were alone. She only had that brief moment to examine the symbol before Princess Myrinne hid it again, so she studied it quickly—noticing the light side of the circle with jagged lines jutting outward, and the dark side of the circle with semi-circles curving inward. A flame set at the center, joining the two sides.
“You look magnificent tonight,” Princess Myrinne said, “my Eklektos.”
“Wow,” Rose muttered. “That’s a…strong word.” When she noticed the princess peering up at her, she quickly amended, “I mean, thank you.” She pulled absently at the silk, wishing it wouldn’t cling to her so closely. “So, why do I have to wear these clothes? And what is this about me going to someone’s wedding?”
Princess Myrinne returned to her feet, her gown swaying around her thin figure. The princess wore silk, too—though hers was a gown, rather than trousers and a shirt, like Rose’s. “You don’t have much care for pleasantries, do you?”
Rose nodded. “All evidence says that I’m pretty bad at small talk, so no.”
The princess smiled. “I can only imagine what that evidence consists of.”
“I also don’t take compliments well,” Rose added, offering up way more information than the princess asked for, “and the bowing really throws me off.”
Princess Myrinne just sighed, “You’ll get used to it, my Eklektos.”
“I highly doubt it,” Rose said with a frown.
Princess Myrinne’s smile was so practiced and perfect that Rose couldn’t tell the difference between her amused smile and her I-hope-this-awkward-idiot-shuts-up-soon smile. Rose suspected this was the second one. “My tailors thought you might be more comfortable in trousers, since you were wearing trousers when you arrived,” the princess said. “So, I had them make you some for the wedding.”
“I was wearing blue jeans,” Rose grumbled. “They’re not…see-through.”
Princess Myrinne frowned. “Calling silk see-through is an exaggeration.”
“Says the woman who just told me I look magnificent,” Rose countered.
Kara leaned toward the princess. “Rose’s low self-esteem is as stubborn as the rest of her,” she told her. “Just keep complimenting her until she gives up.”
Rose gave Kara a peeved look, before returning her attention to Princess Myrinne. “You still haven’t told me anything about this wedding you expect me to go to. I mean, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but socializing isn’t my thing.”
Princess Myrinne smiled. “We’ve all noticed, my Eklektos.”
Kara chuckled. “I almost start to like you when you get snarky like that,” she told the princess. “Which reminds me: will you be drinking wine tonight?”
“We all will,” Princess Myrinne said dismissively—not even giving Rose a chance to object. “And people will expect to see the Eklektos at the wedding.”
Rose’s brows furrowed. “Umm…why?”
“For the same reason people expect to see me there,” Princess Myrinne explained. “A wedding is a display of love, and love is an intensely spiritual thing.”
“So, you’re saying the Eklektos is something spiritual to you,” Kara said.
Princess Myrinne froze. “I,” she laughed, “never said anything like that.”
Kara flashed a knowing smirk at the princess. “Of course you didn’t.”
“Marrying for love is progressive for an ancient kingdom,” Rose said.
Princess Myrinne’s pale blue gaze shifted toward Rose. “You’ll find that love is very important to the culture here,” she said with a smile, “my Eklektos.”
“So, if I don’t go,” Rose said, “people will be angry? For some reason?”
“Not angry with the Eklektos!” Princess Myrinne said quickly. “No one would ever be angry with you, my Eklektos.” She winced a little. “It’s more that they might interpret your refusal to show up as a bad omen for the relationship.”
Rose blinked in shock. “Okay, first of all, what?”
Kara watched them curiously, trying to piece together each thing that t
he princess had let slip. “Well, if that’s the case, then why didn’t they consider every wedding a bad omen?” she challenged. “Rose hasn’t been to any of them before.”
“It was different,” the princess said, her tone clipped. “She’s here now.”
“Not for long!” Rose objected. “There’s a war going on. A big, dangerous world war that could, like, end the world. And you want me to go to a wedding?”
A worried look passed over Princess Myrinne’s face. “In times like this, it’s important to keep our thoughts on love. Wouldn’t you agree, my Eklektos?”
Rose frowned, suddenly conflicted. “I mean…yeah, I do believe that.”
“Then, let’s lead by example, shall we,” the princess said, “my Eklektos?”
“Manipulative,” Kara murmured under her breath.
But Rose just sighed, “Okay. Fine, I’ll go.”
Princess Myrinne straightened, a relieved smile spreading across her face. “Good. Now, I need to speak with one of my priestesses, but I’ll be back for you before the wedding.” She paused, shooting a disdainful scowl Kara’s way. “You’re welcome to bring Kara as your date, of course. Even if she is…less than likable.”
Kara laughed, watching with an amused smile, as Princess Myrinne left.
“But I’m less than likable, too!” Rose called out. “Why do I have to go?”
But Princess Myrinne was already gone.
—
Kara returned to Rose, raking her seductive, light blue gaze down Rose’s body. “I have to be honest,” she said, her hands sliding over Rose’s hips. “I don’t know if I’m going to be able to keep my hands off of you during the wedding.”
Rose blushed. “I’m sure you’re exaggerating,” she said, shuddering at the sensation of silk sliding over her skin, the warmth of Kara’s skin seeping through.
Kara grinned. “Only in the sense that I’d never touch you, if you weren’t comfortable with it,” she admitted, “but I will most certainly be thinking about it all night.” Her gaze swept downward, lingering on Rose’s breasts. “Craving it.”
The Reign of Darkness Page 21