The Reign of Darkness

by Britney Jackson

  “Oh, there was never a chance of you losing, my Eklektos,” Zosime said.

  Rose blinked in surprise. “Really? None? But…what if the world ends?”

  Princess Myrinne straightened, her eyes narrowing. “How could it end?”

  Rose cringed at that. “I don’t know,” she mumbled. “Nuclear bombs?”

  “Oh,” Princess Myrinne said, her shoulders relaxing. Clearly, that wasn’t the answer she’d expected. She shrugged. “I don’t know anything about those.”

  “No matter what happens,” Zosime told Rose, “the war will not be lost.”

  Rose frowned, confused by that. Over the past several months, ever since Zosime told Rose about her vision, Rose had assumed the war would be the cause of the apocalypse. If it wasn’t the war, then what was it? “Either way,” Rose sighed, “I have no experience with leading armies. I’m literally the worst choice.”

  “You have three months of experience,” Kara reminded her, “which still makes you a beginner, yes—but a very skilled one.” Her piercing, blue stare didn’t waver. “You joined the alliance, Rose. That makes you a Commander of Power.”

  “I joined the alliance as a formality,” Rose argued, “not to actually fight.”

  Kara shook her head, her smile soft and gentle. “No, love,” she reminded her, “you chose to join the alliance the moment I told you that you might be able to help people. That was the deciding factor for you. You wanted to help people.”

  Rose relaxed, her defenses falling. “And I can help people with an army?”

  “Yes,” Princess Myrinne said. “You have something to offer. That means your voice has weight. If they want your army, they’ll have to play by your rules.”

  “Many of the vampire leaders have already lost their colonies,” Kara told Rose. “If I know them—and I do—they’ll want retribution. They’ll be merciless.”

  “Retribution,” Rose echoed. Her chest tightened. “You mean genocide.”

  “Entire colonies have been wiped out,” Kara said. “I told you before that a few vampire leaders would vote mercifully, but I didn’t know, then, that humans would kill so many of us. Now? You might be the only merciful vote they get.”

  Rose swallowed uneasily. She didn’t doubt that. Kara knew these leaders better than anyone, and she was always straightforward about this kind of thing. “Okay,” she sighed, “if I’m the only one who can stop it, I’ll do whatever it takes.”

  “They’ll listen to you,” Kara said with a proud smile. “We’ll make them.”

  Rose frowned, a little concerned about what, exactly, Kara meant by that.

  “And tomorrow, when we save them from an attack,” Zosime told Rose, “they’ll be indebted to you.” She turned to Kara. “Use that to your advantage.”

  “Oh, don’t worry,” Kara assured her. “I know how to manipulate.”

  “Then, we’ll finish our journey as soon as everyone’s gotten some rest,” Princess Myrinne told them. “For now, let’s secure the tents and get some sleep.”

  Ligeia nodded. “We’ll discuss battle plans tomorrow—while we travel.”

  Kara stepped back, preparing to leave. Trailing her finger over the fabric that sheltered them, she reminded them, “Don’t forget to double-check all of the tents for rips or gaps in the fabric. If you find any, patch them up. Bury your tents in the snow, if you have to. There’s not much sunlight at this time of year, but if we get any at all…” She trailed off meaningfully. “And thanks for the battle-axe.”

  Princess Myrinne nodded, as Kara turned and walked out into the snow.

  “Thanks for my gift, too,” Rose said, as she followed Kara. “Goodnight.”

  “Always pleased to serve,” the princess said with a bow, “my Eklektos.”

  —

  When Rose and Kara returned to their tent, they found it less empty than they’d left it. Rose froze, frowning at Erik and Elise, who were huddled up in the corner of their tent. Kara, on the other hand, acted as if she hadn’t seen them at all—instead, trailing her fingers over the fabric of the tent, checking for thinness or tears that could let sunlight in. “What are you two doing in here?” Rose asked.

  Erik looked up at her and smiled. He opened his mouth, clearly intending to say something, but then, Kara stepped past him. His bright green gaze followed her, as she passed, watching the battle-axe that she carried at her side. He let out a strange yelp and fled to the other end of the tent—disappearing in a rapid blur.

  Kara watched as the tent swayed, disturbed by the rapid movement. With an irritated growl, she turned toward him. “Erik,” she said, her voice dangerously low, “if you knock down my tent, I’m going to make a new one, using your skin.”

  Erik’s whimper sounded surprisingly similar to a puppy’s. He still hadn’t taken his eyes off the battle-axe in Kara’s hand. “Where did you get that thing?”

  Rose glanced at Elise—who was still sitting on a pile of blankets. She had her face in her hands, gazing at Erik, as if she found him adorable somehow. Rose smiled and rolled her eyes. “Erik,” Rose sighed, as he hid under one of the spare blankets, “please don’t touch my blankets. I don’t want to sleep with your germs.”

  “Vampires don’t have germs!” he argued—from underneath her blanket.

  “That doesn’t make sense, scientifically,” Rose said with a skeptical look.

  Erik peeked out again and hissed at Rose, “Where did she get that thing?”

  A slow, cruel smile curved at the corners of Kara’s lips. “What?” she said, her words slow and taunting. She gripped the handle of her battle-axe, tapping a finger against the metal. “Oh. You mean this?” She laughed. “Don’t you like it?”

  “No, I don’t,” he said, shooting a glare at her. “Those things are painful!”

  Rose lifted her eyebrows at him. “You know, I think it’s great that you’re not afraid to show your emotions,” she told him, earning a giggle from Elise, “but Erik,” she paused, desperately trying not to laugh. “You’re hiding under a blanket.”

  “That thing split me in half!” Erik reminded her. “I still have the scar!”

  Elise dissolved into giggles. “It’s the smallest scar. I could barely see it.”

  “Elise!” Erik whined. “You’re my girlfriend. You’re supposed to help!”

  “I don’t know if I ever agreed to being called the g-word,” Elise teased.

  “Don’t read too much into it, Elise,” Kara said. Her icy blue gaze shifted back toward Erik—her eyes narrowed and predatory. “Erik’s a bit melodramatic.”

  Once again, Erik exaggerated, “You cut me in half with that battle-axe!”

  “Oh, no,” Kara said. “Not this battle-axe.” She lifted it, earning another whimper from the clearly shameless Viking. “This one is new. And much sharper.”

  Rose rolled her eyes at them. “You two have such a strange friendship.”

  Erik shot a glare in Rose’s direction. “Why does she have a battle-axe?”

  “Because,” Rose mumbled, shrugging, “Princess Myrinne gave it to her.”

  Erik eyed the large weapon warily. “Can Princess Myrinne take it back?”

  Rose glanced at Kara, who was currently eyeing Erik the way a cat would eye a mouse. “Careful. She’s grown pretty attached to it in the last five minutes.”

  Kara grinned at Rose’s teasing. “It was love at first sight,” she agreed.

  “It is pretty,” Rose sighed, glancing down at it. “I never stood a chance.”

  Kara’s sparkling, blue gaze shifted toward Rose, and her smile widened.

  Elise tilted her head to the side, her blonde curls falling over her arm. “I don’t understand. Why would the princess give you a weapon, if she hates you?”

  “Because she respects an oath of fealty,” Kara told Elise, “no matter how she feels about me.” She laughed. “She’ll never admit it was from her, though.”

  “She said it was from the royal family,” Rose agreed. She pulled her own we
apon from her waist, the gold and steel glistening. “She gave me a new dagger.”

  Erik straightened, peering curiously at her dagger. “I like that one.”

  Rose smiled. “Thanks,” she said, before returning it to its sheath.

  Kara glanced back at Elise. “What are you two doing in here, anyway?”

  Elise reached beneath one of the blankets and pulled out the glass bottle she’d hidden underneath it. Blood-red liquid swirled around inside, as she handed the bottle to Kara. “Colina stole that from the princess for you,” Elise explained.

  A delighted smile spread across Kara’s face, as she took the blood-wine from Elise. “Did you give her a kiss for me?” she teased, as she walked over to a small table in the corner of the tent. She poured the dark liquid into a wine glass.

  Elise laughed, “Of course.” She held out her hand, accepting one of the wine glasses from Kara. She lifted it to her lips, sipping the liquid, as she watched Kara pour two more glasses. Kara carried one of the glasses to a very jumpy Erik.

  Her eyebrow lifted, as he snatched the glass from her and then leapt back.

  Kara returned to pick up her own glass. “Go secure your tent, feiging.”

  His green eyes narrowed. “Dra til helvete,” he said under his breath, “fitte.”

  Rose glanced back and forth between them. “I don’t know what any of that meant,” she muttered, as Erik climbed to his feet, “but it didn’t sound nice.”

  “I called him a coward. He told me to go to hell,” Kara said, as she sipped her drink. “I’m not going to tell you what he called me because you’d kick his ass.”

  Erik fled from the tent—before Rose could even shoot a glare his way.

  Kara snorted at his quick escape. “Having a terrifying girlfriend is fun.”

  “You’re a dangerous warrior,” Rose said. “How am I the terrifying one?”

  Elise climbed to her feet, leaving the tent at a much slower pace than her lover had. She kissed Rose and Kara on the cheek as she left. “Goodnight, ladies.”

  “See you tomorrow,” Kara called, as she took another sip of her drink.

  Kara glanced at Rose, noticing the crease of her brows. “What’s wrong?”

  “Oh, nothing,” Rose said dismissively. “I’m just trying to process the fact that a guy who’s ruthless on the battlefield was just hiding under our blankets.”

  Kara chuckled. “It was quite the sight, wasn’t it?” she said, as she set her empty glass on the table. She carried her battle-axe over to the blankets, and—to Rose’s surprise—started trying to tuck it inside of them. Rose watched with wide, bright blue eyes, as Kara hid her battle-axe beneath the bottom layer of blankets.

  “Kara,” Rose said slowly, her brows high, “what exactly are you doing?”

  “I need to keep it close to me, in case we’re attacked, while we’re asleep,” Kara explained, as she piled layer upon layer of blankets over the massive weapon.

  Rose glanced back and forth—between their makeshift bed and Kara—as Kara returned to the table to grab her wine, as if she’d done nothing unusual.

  Kara poured another glass of blood-wine and then turned to face Rose. Her lips quirked up at the edges. “Is something bothering you, love?” she teased.

  “Yeah,” Rose said, eyebrows still arched, “there’s a battle-axe in my bed.”

  “Our bed,” Kara corrected, her eyes sparkling. “What’s wrong with that?”

  Rose scowled. “You’re not keeping a battle-axe in the bed that we share.”

  Kara stepped closer, before taking another sip of her drink. “Why not?”

  Rose lifted both eyebrows, unable to hide her smile. “Because it’s sharp!”

  Kara leaned closer. “So are you,” she said, tapping Rose’s chest with the bottom of her glass. Her lips curved into a smile. “But I still keep you in my bed.”

  Rose opened her mouth and closed it again, blushing at the implications. Finally, she managed, “Mental sharpness doesn’t hack people’s heads off, Kara.”

  Kara chuckled. There was something about that laugh of hers—its gentle sensuality, the way she seemed to revel in her own victory—that made Rose a little weak in the knees. Kara closed the space between them, taking one last sip of her wine. “I love toying with you,” Kara murmured. “That sexy tone you always use.”

  Rose swallowed uneasily. She didn’t know how Kara did that—how she managed to strip Rose’s power with just a few words, how she always made Rose feel like a mouse, dangling from her claws. A hungry mouse—who actually enjoyed dangling? For some reason? “I think you mean sassy,” Rose squeaked, “not sexy.”

  Kara held her glass out to the side so she could close that last bit of space between them. She curled her other hand around the back of Rose’s head, pulling her in for a kiss. Rose’s eyes slid closed, and she breathed out a soft moan against Kara’s lips. Kara slipped her tongue into Rose’s mouth, letting Rose taste the fruit and blood on her tongue. Her tongue caressed Rose’s, coaxing another soft moan from her lips. A smile curved at the corners of Kara’s mouth, as she pulled back.

  She pushed the blanket from Rose’s shoulders and then cupped her hand beneath Rose’s chin, tipping her head back. She leaned in and pressed her mouth against Rose’s exposed throat, kissing her gently. She moved her lips along Rose’s neck, finding the place where she usually fed. She bit down, causing Rose to gasp. “I meant,” Kara growled, biting Rose again, “what I said.” She grinned. “Sexy.”

  Rose clutched the corners of Kara’s jacket, burying her face in the leather that covered Kara’s shoulder. Her skin tingled and burned everywhere that Kara’s mouth touched—in every place that Kara had sunk her teeth into. “Kara, please.”

  Kara leaned back, resting her weight on her heels. Her light blue eyes—dark with hunger and lust—shifted to meet Rose’s. “Please what?” she whispered. “Do you want me to stop?” Her smile deepened. “To kiss you again? Fuck you?”

  Rose shivered. Not because of the cold. She didn’t even remember it was cold. Or anything else, for that matter. No, she shivered because every part of her body throbbed in time with her pulse, because every inch of her skin was feverish.

  Kara chuckled at Rose’s silence. “Give me a minute to secure the tent.”

  “A minute?” Rose mumbled. When Kara stepped away, the cold air that rushed between them seemed to shock Rose’s brain back into motion. Blinking in shock, Rose muttered, “If we still needed to secure the tent, why didn’t you…”

  “Wait?” Kara guessed. She winked slyly. “Because I’m evil. Remember?”

  Rose just stared. She was pretty sure her pulse was louder than the wind, at this point—the deafening, howling wind that beat against the sides of the tent. “You’re not evil,” Rose muttered under her breath, “even if you do like to seduce me at weird times.” She frowned, as she noticed Kara zipping up her jacket to go outside. “Hang on. I’m coming, too,” she called out—before Kara could leave.

  Kara turned back toward her. “Oh, no, sexy,” she said, her eyes sparkling. “You’re going to undress and lie down.” She lowered her voice to a purr. “Please?”

  Rose’s bright blue eyes narrowed. “That’s cheating.”

  “Like I said,” Kara said, waving, as she left the tent, “evil.”

  —

  Talulah stepped forward—rather than backward—when the older, more powerful vampire tried to intimidate her. Her dark brown eyes narrowed. “We’re not voting until the full alliance is here,” she snarled. “That includes Rose Foster.”

  Benedict scoffed at that. “No one even knows who you’re talking about.”

  Talulah pursed her lips, holding back a growl. The only thing worse than having to put up with one pompous asshole was having to put up with several of them, and this alliance was full of them. “Everyone knows who Rose Foster is.”

  “We know of her,” Benedict admitted, “but I’ve yet to see any proof that she’s as powerful as they say she is.�
� He chuckled. “Or proof that she’s still alive.”

  Talulah looked away. She couldn’t deny that she’d worried about that, as well. After all, if Rose and Kara were alive, why hadn’t they come back? “We don’t need proof that she’s alive. The terms of the alliance only require proof to remove her from the alliance. So, unless you can prove she’s dead, she’s still one of us.”

  Benedict growled, “She shouldn’t be one of us. She has no experience or colony—nothing that a true Commander of Power would have. Right, Aaron?”

  Aaron’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t do that,” he scoffed. “We’re not friends.”

  Benedict’s smile faded. “But I…” he trailed off uncomfortably, raking a hand through his blondish-brown hair. “I’d heard you disliked the baby vampire.”

  “I dislike everyone. What of it?” Aaron said dismissively. “I dislike you.”

  Hector, who led the vampire colony in South America, laughed. “Aaron’s just upset that his second-in-command ran off with a younger, prettier monster.”

  The last word had barely even left his lips, when he screamed out in pain.

  Aaron stood in front of him, now—having moved so fast that no one noticed, and between two fingers, Aaron held a bloody, detached ear. He watched with a bored expression, as Hector doubled over in pain, clutching the hole in the side of his head. “I’m prettier than you,” Aaron said, tossing the ear at him, “now.”

  Talulah narrowed her eyes, as blood pooled in the middle of her office.

  Aaron turned toward the other vampire leaders, who had all fallen silent. “Does anyone else want to insult me?” he said, holding up his blood-soaked hand. “Might as well get all the dismembering out of the way. My shirt’s already ruined.”

  Talulah’s dark gaze shifted down to the white T-shirt Aaron wore, which was stained with a thin spray of blood. “So is my office,” she muttered bitterly.

  “No one cares about your office, Talulah,” Aaron said, as he returned to where he’d stood earlier. He ignored her dark glare, turning his attention toward the other vampire leaders, instead. “Maybe you thought that what happened with Alana was an invitation for you all to challenge me, as well, but I am still the oldest and most powerful vampire alive. The most ridiculous part of this alliance is not that a baby vampire is part of it, although that is ridiculous. The ridiculous part is where we pretend that all of you are my equals. I have no equals. I killed them all.”