The Reign of Darkness

by Britney Jackson

  Erik turned the paper back toward himself. “The Assassin of Light?”

  “Yeah,” Rose said quietly. The image lingered in Rose’s mind, as if it had burned itself into her retinas. That woman had looked so familiar—with her curly, black hair and furious, brown eyes. Rose had seen those features in someone else.

  “Your friend, Owen,” Kara said. “For several years, he lived with a family of Assassins. The woman in that picture is the Commander of the base in Florida. She’s also one of the Assassins your friend lived with. And the mother of his ex.”

  Rose’s eyes widened. “She’s Jared’s mom,” she breathed, her chest tight. “That’s why she looks familiar. She looks like him.” Her brows creased with pain.

  Erik flipped to the next page. “Do you think she knows her son is dead?”

  “Of course she knows,” Kara said. “It gave her emotional appeal. People sympathize with her, now—even though she fed her son to the wolves herself.”

  “I doubt she knew he’d die,” Rose said. “Why would a mother do that?”

  Kara’s piercing, blue gaze shifted toward her. “Rose,” she said—with as much gentleness as possible, “was your own mother very protective of you?”

  Rose winced a little at the reminder. “Point taken,” she said, as Kara gave her a sympathetic look. “My mother was an addict. What’s this one’s excuse?”

  “Who cares about her excuse?” Kara scoffed. “She hates everyone who isn’t like her.” She flipped through the paper in her hand. “Nothing excuses that.”

  Rose nodded in agreement. “Why is she the one in the newspaper?”

  “She commands all the Assassins of Light now,” Princess Myrinne said.

  “Apparently, the other high-ranking Assassins of Light were murdered,” Ligeia added, her eyebrows lifting expectantly, “by a certain group of vampires.”

  Kara waved her knife-wielding hand. “Yeah, that’d be us. We did that.”

  Princess Myrinne scowled at Kara’s blasé attitude. “Well, it doesn’t seem to have helped matters. I don’t know if I’d be so proud of myself, if I were you.”

  Kara twirled her throwing knife between her fingers, as if she didn’t care about whatever the princess had just said. “There are fewer Nazi-wannabes in the world because of me,” she said with a shrug. “I’d say that’s a win, either way.”

  Erik picked up his second newspaper. “Holy shit,” he said, as soon as he saw the front page. “This one’s about the beach. They’re calling it mass murder.”

  Rose frowned. “At the beach? When the army of Assassins attacked us?”

  “Yeah,” Erik said, flipping the page. “Where did they get these pictures?”

  Elise leaned toward him, glancing at the newspaper that he was reading. “Photo manipulation, obviously,” she told him. “Modern humans are good at it.”

  “Not all modern humans,” Rose said. “I couldn’t Photoshop anything.”

  Erik traded newspapers with Elise, reading the one that she hadn’t picked up yet. The moment he saw the very doctored photo and the accompanying story, he burst into a fit of hysterical laughter. “You’re going to want to read this one.”

  Rose took the newspaper, scanning it with a frown. She rolled her eyes and gave it to Kara. “Look at us. On the front page! Being gay and doing crime.”

  Kara held the paper in one hand, as she twirled a throwing knife with the other. “I think we look cute. Especially with all those corpses in the background.”

  Rose groaned in frustration. “I’ve never even gotten a speeding ticket.”

  “Well, now, you’re a mass murderer,” Erik said, as he read over another article, “and a Danger to All Humankind.” He looked up, suddenly, and cringed, as he noticed her glare. “The journalist said it! Not me. Don’t mass-murder me.”

  “Do you see now?” Princess Myrinne said, as Rose continued to glare at Erik. “They’ve turned you into the most wanted terrorist in the world. They want you, specifically. So, they made it so that every human in the world will fear you.”

  “Surely, there are some journalists out there who know the truth,” Rose said. “There must be people out there who know that these are doctored photos.”

  “Even if there are,” the princess said, “do you really think they’re going to let you board a plane to Canada? You’ll be killed before you leave the country.”

  “I’d be surprised if the airports are even open, at this point,” Ligeia said.

  Rose looked up at them, her brows furrowing. “What does that mean?”

  Princess Myrinne shot a glare at Ligeia, who ducked her head regretfully. “It means, my Eklektos,” she sighed, “according to our watchers—which you call spies, I believe—the humans have apparently shut down some of their services.”

  “What?” Rose asked. “They’re just…not letting people travel anymore?”

  “They’re in the middle of a world war, my Eklektos,” Princess Myrinne said in a patronizing tone. “It was probably just hard to keep up certain services.”

  Kara stopped twirling her knife. “Liar,” she sang—under her breath.

  Princess Myrinne narrowed her eyes at Kara. “What was that, warrior?”

  Kara still held the throwing knife in her hand, her fingers curled around the handle, as if she were about to throw it. She laughed, “I think you heard me.”

  Seething fury burned in Princess Myrinne’s eyes. “How dare you…”

  Kara cut her off. “No one is just shutting down airports in this era. That would affect families, businesses, governments… If they’re shutting down travel, they’re shutting down everything—and things are worse than you’re letting on.”

  Rose took the newspaper back from Kara, frowning at the date. “This is old,” she realized. Her gaze shifted toward Erik. “When was yours published?”

  Erik’s bright green gaze shifted up toward her. With a curious frown, he flipped back to the front of his paper. His eyes narrowed at the date. “Last week.”

  Rose turned to Princess Myrinne and Ligeia, her eyebrows high. “Are the newspapers even still running? Were you even going to tell us, if they weren’t?”

  “I didn’t want to alarm you,” Princess Myrinne muttered, “my Eklektos.”

  “No. You wanted to manipulate me—just like you’re trying to do now,” Rose said, red flashing in her eyes. “While we’re here, people are dying. What are we even doing? Attending weddings and parties, when we should be saving lives?”

  Princess Myrinne bristled. “If you have a problem with our culture…”

  Rose rolled her eyes. “I don’t have a problem with your culture,” she said before the princess could finish. “I like it, actually. It feels…familiar, somehow.”

  Kara’s icy blue gaze darted toward Rose. She hoped Rose didn’t look too far into that—because she suspected that vague familiarity Rose kept feeling hid something deeper. If Rose was what Zosime said she was, she’d have memories, wouldn’t she? Kara feared what would happen if Rose accessed those memories.

  Princess Myrinne, on the other hand, seemed pleased by what Rose said.

  “Aside from your serial-killer mother,” Rose said, causing the princess’s smile to slip, “most everyone seems kind and inclusive. I’ve enjoyed being here.”

  Her smile returned. “My Eklektos, it’s such a relief to hear you say that.”

  “But,” Rose continued, causing Princess Myrinne’s smile to slip yet again, “it doesn’t change the fact that there is a war going on, outside this cave, and our friends are out there, in the middle of it. We can’t sit here, while our friends die.”

  “With all due respect,” Princess Myrinne said, “you’re looking at this like a child. This is a war. You need to focus on the big picture—not on your friends.”

  Rose frowned. “Are children the only ones allowed to care about people? To retain some semblance of humanity?” she said. Insecurity fluttered in her chest and closed around her throat, causing her voice to sou
nd smaller. “Wisdom is not emotionless. I believe that the right thing is always compassionate, always kind.”

  Princess Myrinne considered that for a moment. When she finally shifted her gaze away from Rose, she accidentally made eye-contact with a pair of furious, icy blue eyes. “Is there a problem,” she growled, her eyebrows lifting, “warrior?”

  Kara just stared, her glare as cold as ice. “Don’t insult her.”

  There was an implied threat beneath those words, and Princess Myrinne had no doubt that Kara would act on it—even if she was the younger and weaker vampire in this fight. The princess glanced at Rose, who looked a little baffled by Kara’s anger. “I apologize, my Eklektos,” she sighed. She dropped to her knees, placing her fist against her chest, which revealed her tattoo. “I was disrespectful.”

  Rose shot a peeved look at Kara. “Do you see what you’ve done?”

  “Mm-hmm,” Kara said, her gaze unwavering. “I don’t think it’s enough.”

  Princess Myrinne looked up, her pale blue eyes narrowing at Kara. “I’m truly sorry,” she snarled through her teeth. “I should never doubt the Eklektos.”

  “Umm, why not?” Rose said worriedly. “I mean, I doubt me all the time.”

  Princess Myrinne frowned at that. “I was arrogant and didn’t want to see your point-of-view,” she sighed, “but the Eklektos is wise, and I should listen.”

  Rose leaned toward Kara. “It really freaks me out when she does this.”

  “Do you want me to kill or severely injure her?” Kara whispered back.

  Rose blinked. “What? Neither! I don’t want you to do either of those.”

  Kara shrugged lazily. “Offer’s on the table, if you change your mind.”

  Ligeia glanced back and forth between them, her brown eyes wide with alarm, as if she weren’t quite sure how to react. “Princess? What does that mean?”

  Princess Myrinne climbed to her feet. “I serve the will of the Eklektos.”

  Rose rolled her eyes. “Not this again,” she muttered under her breath.

  “Is it your will,” the princess asked Rose, “that we join the war now?”

  Rose turned to face her friends. “I don’t know. Is that what we want?”

  Erik and Elise both nodded. “I’m ready when you are,” Erik told her.

  Kara lifted an eyebrow, when Rose glanced her way. “I’m your warrior,” she reminded her. “I’ll stay, if you want me to stay, and go, if you want me to go.”

  “You must have a preference,” Rose sighed. “What do you want to do?”

  “I want to follow you,” Kara said honestly. “I want to fight by your side.”

  Rose smiled curiously at that last part. “Then, you want to join the war?”

  Kara’s lips tilted into a sly smirk. “There are few things I love more than a good battle, Rose Foster,” she murmured, “and you happen to be one of them.”

  Rose’s bright blue eyes sparkled with amusement. “I love you, too,” she whispered—before turning to face the princess. “It sounds like a unanimous yes.”

  “So it does,” the princess said. She turned to Ligeia. “Ready the armies.”

  Rose watched with a frown, as Ligeia left to do just that. “Wait. What?”

  “You didn’t think we’d let you leave without your armies, did you?” the princess scoffed. “It’s a supernatural world war. You can’t fight it by yourself.”

  “My armies?” Rose repeated, her head spinning too rapidly to keep up.

  “We’ll leave tomorrow night,” Princess Myrinne said—as if Rose hadn’t said anything. “Until then, I hope you’ll join us at the temple for one last party.”

  Rose lifted her eyebrows in disbelief. “Another party?”

  “No murder this time,” Princess Myrinne said with a wry smile.

  “What about blood-wine?” Erik interjected. “Will there be blood-wine?”

  Princess Myrinne chuckled, “Of course.”

  Erik turned to Rose. “I’m in.”

  Elise practically bounced with excitement. “I love parties!”

  “Let’s do it,” Kara whispered in Rose’s ear.

  Rose sighed, rolling her eyes at them. “It seems I’m outnumbered.”

  17

  The Last Night

  “What is it with these people and their parties?” Rose complained, as she watched Kara drink a glass of blood-wine. Each sip left a blood-red stain on her lips, and Rose couldn’t bring herself to look away. “Are there no introverts here?”

  Kara sipped her wine, her blood-stained lips curving into a smile. “Maybe you should try some blood-wine. It seemed like you enjoyed yourself last time.”

  Rose licked her lips at the thought. It didn’t help that the blood-wine was more blood than wine. The scent of blood awoke her hunger every time she came near it. “Yeah,” she muttered, “but then, that Psycho-Queen tried to kill you. I’m not going to let my guard down again.” Her mouth watered, as she watched Kara lick a blood-red drop from her lips. “Blood-wine is way too intoxicating for me.”

  Kara loved the way Rose’s gaze followed every movement of her lips. “If you’re sure,” she said, a smirk tilting at her lips. She set her glass on the table and turned her chair toward Rose’s. “You can have whatever you want tonight, sexy.”

  Rose blinked at the obvious suggestiveness behind that statement. “Uh.”

  Kara laughed at that monosyllable-response. “I mean it,” she whispered, leaning closer. Her breath smelled of blood and fruit, and the scent enticed Rose’s hunger. “This is our last night together before we join the war. So, if you want to dance, we’ll dance. If you want to leave, we’ll leave. If you want to make love…”

  “Yeah,” Rose interrupted. She blushed. “I mean…not yeah, as in I want to. Yeah, as in…I get it. Not that I don’t want to! That’s not what I meant, either.”

  Kara leaned back in her chair, chuckling, as she listened to Rose ramble.

  Erik brought Kara another glass of blood-wine. He rolled his eyes, as he heard the last half of what Rose was saying. “Rose, stop embarrassing yourself.”

  “Easier said than done,” Rose muttered, watching as Kara took the glass.

  “Elise and Colina are dancing, if you want to join them,” Erik told Kara.

  Kara’s light blue gaze shifted toward Rose. “What do you think, sexy?”

  Rose smiled. “I think I don’t dance,” she laughed, “but you should go.”

  Kara set her second glass on the table. “I said whatever you want. If you want to sit, we’ll sit.” She raised an eyebrow. “Or do you want to watch me dance?”

  Rose blushed, as she thought about that first night in the bar—watching Kara dance, being so enamored by her from the start. She’d moved so seductively.

  A smirk lifted one side of Kara’s mouth. “I see,” she murmured. Leaning in, she whispered in Rose’s ear, “Keep your eyes on me, sexy.” Then, she climbed to her feet and strolled out toward the dance-floor, just in time for the next song.

  Rose glanced sheepishly at Erik, but if he’d even been listening, he didn’t show it. He sat in Kara’s seat, sipping blood-wine, as he watched the dance-floor.

  “Colina says the princess and her warrior are coming with us,” Erik said, about a minute into the song. “She said Zosime hasn’t decided if she’s coming.”

  Rose let her gaze drift briefly toward him, before returning her attention to Kara. “If Ligeia’s coming, that’s probably the reason Zosime hasn’t decided.”

  Erik’s brows furrowed. “Why would Zosime care if Ligeia is coming?”

  Rose frowned. “Can’t you…like…sense it, when two people are in love?”

  “Sure. There are a lot of emotions involved,” Erik said—before realizing what she was saying. His eyes widened. “Wait. You mean Ligeia and Zosime…”

  “What about Zosime?” said a familiar voice—its tone rich and warm.

  Rose looked up, blinking, as she found the clairvoyant vampire suddenly in front
of her. Like the other Skotalians, Zosime was dressed nicely—in a dark, maroon gown that clung to her wide curves. Apparently, this was a formal event. No one had warned Rose—not that it would’ve mattered. Rose was quite happy with her jeans and T-shirt. “We were discussing you, while you weren’t around,” Rose said with a sassy smile. “You know…the way you and Kara discussed me?”

  Zosime’s dark red lips curved into an amused smile. “Yes. I do know.”

  Erik glanced back and forth between them. “Did I miss something?”

  “The thing that Kara’s hiding from me?” Rose reminded him. She waved a hand toward Zosime. “Zosime was the one who told Kara…whatever it was.”

  “Then,” Erik said, frowning, “it has something to do with your future?”

  With a proud smile, Zosime suddenly produced a rose from behind her back. This one—thank goodness—was still yellow. “I brought you a gift,” she sang.

  Rose laughed as Zosime gave her the flower. The warm, floral scent filled her senses. “You’re not trying to buy my friendship with flowers, are you?”

  “Why would I buy something I know is already mine?” Zosime asked.

  Rose shook her head, but an amused smile pulled at her lips. She glanced out toward the dance-floor, looking for Kara, as Zosime pulled out a wildflower.

  Zosime tucked the flower into her curly, black hair. “Dance with me.”

  Rose nearly dropped her own flower. Her bright blue gaze shifted toward Zosime, and she blinked a few times in shock. “Did you just ask me to dance?”

  “I insisted, actually,” Zosime said with a smile. “I’d like to talk to you.”

  “Talking is fine with me,” Rose said, her brows high. “Dancing is not.”

  Zosime’s smile deepened. “My Eklektos, if you don’t say yes, I’ll just ask again,” she warned her, “and I’ll be forced to resort to the thing you hate most.”

  Rose’s brows furrowed. “Small talk?”

  “Bowing,” Zosime corrected.

  Rose’s eyes widened. “You wouldn’t!”