The Reign of Darkness

by Britney Jackson

  Zosime dropped her hand, watching Rose with a curious smile. “You’re still so upset, so protective of her,” she realized, “even though she’s lying to you.”

  “Of course I am,” Rose said, her voice suddenly strained. “I love Kara.”

  Zosime’s smile deepened, and a hint of admiration burned in her brown eyes. “I see that,” she murmured—before returning to her flowers. “She’s the one you should ask. Not me. I’m sure she’ll tell the truth—when she thinks it’s safe.”

  “Why does she get to decide when it’s safe for me to know?” Rose asked.

  “What’s wrong?” Zosime called to Rose. “Don’t you trust your lover?”

  Rose raised an eyebrow. “Have you met her? She lies. A lot. And well.”

  Zosime strolled further into the garden. “Even to you?” she called back.

  “Usually, no,” Rose admitted. “She must have a good reason this time.”

  “If you believe that,” Zosime said, “then, why are you here, asking me?”

  “For the same reason she’s lying to me,” Rose said. “She wants to protect me. So, I need to protect her from whatever she’s trying to protect me from.”

  Zosime turned toward Rose, laughing, “Is this how you two always are?”

  “Yeah, it’s kind of our thing,” Rose said. “So, will you help me or not?”

  “She told me not to,” Zosime said, as she returned to tending her garden. She knelt next to a large, yellow rose bush. “Your lover is a bit scary, you know.”

  “Kara’s not going to hurt you,” Rose laughed. “Surely, you know that.”

  Zosime’s brown eyes shifted up toward Rose. “I’m not so sure,” she said. “As a matter of fact, I think she’d hurt anyone, if that’s what it took to save you.”

  Rose noticed Zosime eyeing the clay pot of water on the bench next to her, so she picked it up and carried it over to the vampire. “Contrary to popular belief, she is not evil,” she said, giving the pot to Zosime. “She’s not well-behaved, by any means, but she’s not evil. She’d never actually hurt you—not over this.”

  Zosime laughed softly, “You don’t even know what this is.” She poured the water slowly, watching the flowers, as she watered them. “You have no idea.”

  “Then, tell me,” Rose said. “What did you see? What’s going to happen?”

  Zosime didn’t even look at her. She kept her attention on the roses. She was silent for so long, in fact, that Rose had already given up and turned to leave, when she finally spoke. “The future is a puzzling thing,” she said, suddenly. Rose turned toward her, watching her curiously. Zosime straightened, her lips quirking up into a smile that did not fit the situation. “Also, nonexistent, at the moment.”

  “What?” Rose sputtered, her brows furrowing. “What does that mean?”

  Zosime busied herself with the roses again. “You know what it means.”

  “The end of the world?” Rose said. She waited for an answer, but Zosime ignored her. Apparently, she was more worried about her flowers than the end of the world itself. “Uhh, okay. If that’s true, we have to stop it. How can I stop it?”

  “Some things can only be destroyed by the one who created them, and some things can only be saved by the one who destroyed them,” Zosime told her.

  Rose rolled her eyes. “Why does everyone here talk in freaking riddles?”

  Zosime straightened, sighing softly, “It’s not a riddle. It’s a prophecy.”

  “Right. Thanks,” Rose said irritably, “but what I need…is an answer.”

  Zosime stepped closer to Rose. “You’re asking me to speak plainly?”

  Rose took a step back, watching the clairvoyant vampire warily. “Yes?”

  “Your future is so terrible that even a glimpse of it could drive you mad,” Zosime told her. “That’s why I’m not allowed to tell you what I saw in my vision.”

  “Whatever it is—I can handle it,” Rose said. “I’ve been through worse.”

  “You think you have, but you haven’t,” Zosime said. “What will happen to you is worse than you can imagine—and unpreventable, I’m afraid. But as for the end of the world? That part can be changed. But only by you. It must be you.”

  “Why does everyone keep saying that?” Rose said anxiously. “Why me?”

  “Because it’s your fault that it’s happening,” Zosime said with a shrug.

  “What?” Rose sputtered, her eyes widening. “How? What did I do?”

  “Hold out your hands,” Zosime said. “I have something that will help.”

  Rose frowned, wondering—not for the first time—if the flower-loving vampire were a little crazy. But she was out of options. So, she held out her hands.

  Zosime opened her own hands and placed a yellow rose in Rose’s hands.

  “Um, Zosime?” Rose said slowly, scowling at the rose. “This is a flower.”

  Zosime gave Rose that playful, quirky smile that she wore so often. “It’s your answer,” she said, clearly proud of herself. “That’s how you save the world.”

  Rose looked up at the vampire, both eyebrows raised. “With a flower?”

  “With a rose,” Zosime said with a shrug. “That is your name, isn’t it?”

  Rose blinked. “Oh. Great. Yeah, that’s…hilarious,” she said sarcastically.

  Zosime just laughed and returned to her flowers. “Go talk to your lover.”

  But Rose didn’t hear her—because she couldn’t stop staring at the flower in her hands, transfixed by its soft, silky petals—black as shadows, black as death.

  She didn’t remember seeing any black roses in Zosime’s garden.

  As a matter of fact, she was positive that the other roses had been yellow.

  “Zosime?” Rose said, watching the flower. “Do you have black roses?”

  “No. Only yellow and red,” Zosime said, as she tended to another plant.

  “But the rose you just gave me is…black,” Rose said slowly, looking up.

  Zosime turned toward her with a frown—and froze. Because the rose in Rose’s hands now—it looked different from the one she’d picked just a moment before. She stepped closer to Rose, staring in horror at those black petals. “This is how it started,” she said quietly, her voice practically a whisper, “in my vision.”

  Rose could hear Zosime’s pulse racing. She could smell the adrenaline in her blood. It was the first time she’d seen the vampire afraid. “How what started?”

  Zosime looked up at Rose, her brown eyes wide with fear. “The end.”

  —

  “Do we have to fight right now?” Erik complained, massaging his wrist—which Kara had nearly broken. “Couldn’t we just…talk about what upset you?”

  Kara slashed at him with her dagger, barely giving him time to get out of her way. “I need somewhere to focus this adrenaline,” she said breathlessly, nearly stabbing him—again. “If I stop, I’ll end up going after her, and that’s not right.”

  “Who? Rose?” Erik said. He tried to stab her with his own dagger—only to cringe, as she, once again, caught his wrist and twisted. “Where is she, anyway?”

  “Doing something I wish she wouldn’t,” Kara said, as she slammed Erik on the floor. She pressed the bottom of her boot against his wrist, forcing him to let go of his weapon. “It was her choice to do this. I have to respect her choice.”

  “I give up,” Erik grunted, his face pressed against the floor. “You win.”

  Kara backed off, as he climbed to his feet. “Vikings never surrender.”

  “We do when we’re fighting you!” Erik said, his eyes wide. He bent at the waist, panting, as his body throbbed and ached. “Fucking hell, you’re relentless.”

  Kara pinned him with an icy blue stare. “Did you want me to hold back?”

  “Preferably, yes,” Erik said. He straightened, examining his bruised wrist. “Especially when you’re pissed. You’re absolutely unbeatable when you’re angry.”

  “I’m not angry,” Kara
said with a dismissive wave of her dagger. Her ice-blue eyes watched the door. “And I’m always unbeatable. Stop making excuses.”

  “I’m not making excuses,” Erik complained. He tilted his head, trying to catch her gaze. “And I know you’re angry. I’m an empath. I can feel your anger.”

  “You’re sensing frustration,” Kara told him. “I’m frustrated that I can’t protect her. I’m frustrated that she won’t let me. I’m also slightly turned on by it.”

  Erik frowned. “I’m starting to get why you and Alana had sex so much.”

  “The point is,” Kara said, dropping her dagger to her side, “Rose is smart and brave, and as hot as that is, it also means she’ll eventually find out the truth.”

  “Well, yeah,” Erik agreed. “Rose is going to outsmart you. She’s probably one of the few people who can. And when she does, this will all backfire on you.”

  Kara looked away, a hint of fear flashing in her light blue eyes. “I know.”

  Erik frowned. He’d never seen Kara like this before. “Just a thought, but have you ever considered not lying to the woman you love more than life itself?”

  She gave him an icy stare. “Do you want me to put a dagger in your face?”

  Erik’s eyes widened. “You asked for honest advice!”

  Kara shrugged. “I didn’t say it was a hazardless job.”

  “Neither is training with you, apparently,” he muttered, rubbing his wrist.

  Kara shook her head. “If—or when—Rose outsmarts me and finds out the truth, the worst thing that’s ever happened will happen,” she sighed. “Believe me, if the truth were anything else—anything other than what it is—I’d tell her.”

  Erik watched her, stunned by the sincerity in her voice. “Is it that bad?”

  “She’s depressed, Erik,” Kara said sadly, “and she falls deeper every day.”

  His brows furrowed. “I thought she was doing well—considering…”

  “Considering everything that’s happened?” Kara said. When he nodded, she did, too. “She is. But handling it well doesn’t mean she’s not depressed. It just means she’s strong enough to withstand the pain.” She tapped her dagger against her thigh in a quick, anxious rhythm. “And this truth is…the last thing she needs.”

  “Kara,” Erik said worriedly, “it can’t be worse than her brother dying.”

  Her light blue eyes glistened. “It’s worse than anything you can imagine.”

  —

  When Rose returned to her room, Kara met her near the door. Rose tried to ignore the worry that twisted at Kara’s lovely features and the fear that flashed in her intense, light blue eyes—because Rose knew that would soften her resolve.

  Kara watched as Rose passed her, as she headed toward the bed without even looking at her. “What did she tell you?” Kara questioned, following Rose.

  Rose set the flower on the table—the black rose that shouldn’t have been black—and bent to pull off her waterlogged sneakers. “What did she tell you?”

  Kara stared at Rose, anxiety fluttering in her chest. When Rose turned to set aside her shoes, Kara grasped her arm, holding her close. “Rose, please,” she breathed, her soft, lilting voice in Rose’s ear, “I need to know what she told you.”

  Rose turned toward her. Her thoughts immediately scattered, as the front of Kara’s body pressed against her. Kara’s hand was curled around Rose’s bicep—certainly not the kind of touch Rose would’ve thought of as arousing—and yet, a rush of arousal poured through her, anyway. She forced her thoughts back to the matter at hand. “Then, you tell me what you know, and I’ll tell you what I know.”

  Kara’s eyes, which were usually such a light shade of blue, seemed much darker than usual. “I’m your warrior,” she reminded her. “I swore to protect you.”

  With their bodies so close, Rose could feel Kara’s chest rising and falling against her own, and she realized—even before she heard it in Kara’s voice—that Kara was breathless. “I may not have sworn an oath to you,” Rose said, suddenly feeling a bit breathless herself, “but I feel just as strongly about protecting you.”

  “It’s not the same,” Kara argued desperately. “I’m not the one who…”

  Rose lifted her eyebrows at the near-slip. “You’re not the one who what?”

  Kara froze, stunned that she’d almost said too much. Kara wasn’t one to make that kind of mistake. She knew better. Kara was the one who manipulated other people into making that mistake. Her piercing, blue eyes narrowed, and heat unfurled throughout her middle. “The point is,” she growled, “it’s not the same.”

  Rose couldn’t tear her gaze from Kara’s. The heat in those icy blue eyes seared Rose to the core. Whether that heat was anger or desire, Rose didn’t know, but the emotions she sensed through their blood bond felt like a puzzling mix of both. Her voice came out strained and breathless. “I’ll find out the truth, whether you tell me or not,” she warned Kara, “and there’s nothing you can do about it.”

  Kara’s gaze darted down to Rose’s lips. Her pulse picked up speed within her chest, and her breath came faster. That brief moment was the only warning Rose had—before Kara’s hands came around Rose’s face, and her mouth crashed against Rose’s. With Rose unprepared, the force of the kiss pushed her backward, but she quickly gripped Kara’s jacket and pressed forward, meeting Kara’s force with her own. The kiss felt like pure fire, heat sparking between their lips, flames engulfing their bodies. It was as if every emotion between them had combusted, at once, and the fire had spread too fast and too far to know where it had begun.

  Kara leaned into Rose, deepening the kiss. Her fingers found Rose’s hair, intertwining with the soft, red strands, and then, she twisted, tugging Rose’s head back, exposing her neck. The small cry that Rose gave was a mix of pleasure and pain, and it was such a sensual sound that Kara’s breath caught in her throat. She watched Rose’s bright blue eyes dilate, and then, she breathed out, “Too much?”

  Rose tried to shake her head, but Kara’s fingers were still tightly wrapped around her hair. “No,” she whispered, overwhelmed with need. “Not too much.”

  A smile curled at the corners of Kara’s lips. Then, with a soft growl, she twisted again at Rose’s hair and sank her fangs into Rose’s neck. She covered the bite wound with her mouth and sucked, feeding ravenously. Her movements were more feral, more animalistic, than usual, and Rose found that she liked that, for some reason. Some part of her responded to the primal side of Kara. Some part of her enjoyed the sharpness of Kara’s teeth, the tightness of her grip, the sharp pang of pain, followed by deep, sensual pleasure. Rose moaned as the endorphins flooded her bloodstream, sending sparks of desire and pleasure to every part of her body. Her body grew heavier, her muscles weaker, as Kara drained her blood.

  Kara wrapped her arm around Rose’s waist, holding her upright, as Rose swayed unsteadily. She pulled away from Rose’s neck, just long enough to push Rose toward the bed. When Rose collapsed on the bed, Kara climbed on top of her. She tugged off Rose’s clothes and tossed them aside. She ran her hands along the underside of Rose’s thighs, lifting them and repositioning them. Then, with a smile, she delivered a light slap to Rose’s ass. Rose arched her back and moaned.

  Kara’s smile deepened. “I thought you might like that,” she murmured. Her hands continued to roam Rose’s backside—grasping, massaging, slapping—as she watched Rose’s skin flush with desire, as she watched Rose arch in pleasure.

  Kara dragged the back of her hand over her lips, wiping away the blood that stained them, before bending to cover one of Rose’s breasts with her mouth.

  Her icy blue gaze shifted up, watching as Rose gasped and moaned at the sensation. Kara’s lips twitched up at the edges, as she slid her tongue over Rose’s nipple, as she showered Rose’s fair, freckled skin with kisses. She watched as Rose gripped the sheets, the fabric twisting beneath her fingers, as Rose’s body seemed to twist in the sexiest ways. She lifted herself with her arms, gazing do
wn at Rose, smiling seductively at her. “How are you feeling, sexy?” she said. “Tired? Weak?”

  Rose shook her head. “No,” she said breathlessly. She tilted her head to the side, exposing her neck. “You can take more, if you want. I can handle it.”

  Kara growled hungrily at the sight of the partially-healed bite wound on Rose’s neck. She slid her fingers into Rose’s thick, auburn hair, lightly pulling, and then, she sank her fangs into Rose’s neck—again. She fed slowly this time, afraid to take too much, but her hands were less careful, as they explored Rose’s curves.

  Rose clutched the back of Kara’s shirt, moaning into Kara’s skin, as she felt Kara’s mouth on her neck, as she felt Kara’s fingers between her thighs. She tilted her head back, moaning, as Kara’s soft fingers found her wet, aching center.

  Kara’s fingers were as hungry as her mouth, as she sought out that soft cry of pleasure that she knew Rose would eventually give her. Her finger pushed into Rose, and her thumb found Rose’s clit—moving slowly at first, then quicker.

  When Rose’s moans grew louder, her body writhing in desperation, Kara pulled away from Rose’s neck and pressed her blood-soaked lips against Rose’s.

  Rose kissed Kara desperately, tasting the sweetness of her own blood on Kara’s lips. The world faded away under Kara’s touch—their impending doom a distant memory. Nothing existed but the sweetness of Kara’s mouth, the alluring scent of her skin, the warmth of her body, the persistence of her fingers. Nothing existed but the two of them. And the euphoric pleasure building inside her body.

  Kara must have sensed that because she pulled back, then, watching Rose with a smile, as the build-up of pleasure pulled tighter and tighter inside of Rose.

  Rose longed to pull Kara closer, to taste her lips again, to trail her lips along the slope of Kara’s shoulders, to bite and kiss Kara’s skin the way Kara had done to hers. But she could no longer control her body, as she twisted the sheets beneath her. She vaguely noticed the wolfish tilt of Kara’s lips, the flash of delight in her light blue eyes, as she quickened her pace, pushing Rose closer to the edge.