The Reign of Darkness

by Britney Jackson

  “I’m fine,” Rose lied. “I was too late to save someone. What else is new?”

  Kara’s brows creased with concern. “It’s not your job to save everyone.”

  “Then, whose is it?” Rose said, turning toward her. “Someone has to.”

  Kara stepped closer. “I love that you try. I love who you are,” she sighed, “but if you’ve set yourself up for failure, you can’t blame yourself when you fail.”

  Rose glanced at the pilot, frowning, as he waved frantically, in an attempt to get Kara’s attention. “Umm,” she muttered, “I think the pilot needs your help.”

  Without taking her eyes off of Rose, Kara said, “Fuck off, Henrik.”

  Henrik sighed and left—to deal with the crisis alone, apparently.

  “Uh,” Rose said, her eyes wide, “that might’ve been important.”

  “You’re important,” Kara growled. “If you’re not okay, I need to know.”

  Rose blinked, surprised by her seriousness. “Why do you think I’m not?”

  Kara didn’t bother denying the implication—that she didn’t believe Rose was okay. It was too late for that. “Because I know you, and I know you’re not.”

  Rose sighed, “I have a lot of planning to do tonight. No time for grief.”

  “You always say that,” Kara said softly. She lifted her hand, brushing her thumb over Rose’s cheek. “If you’re going to fall apart, at least take me with you.”

  A sad smile pulled at the corners of Rose’s lips. “That would be cruel.”

  “Then, be cruel,” Kara whispered—so that only Rose heard. “Losing you would be far crueler.” She watched, as Rose’s mouth fell open, as her expression slipped into one of surprise. Then, she dropped her hand and stepped back. “I’d better check with Henrik, before he gets us all killed. Stay busy. Don’t overthink.”

  Rose laughed at the perfectly fitting advice. “Kara, my brain operates on a scale of Slightly Overthinking to Majorly Overthinking. There is no off-button.”

  “I can find your off-button,” Kara said with a suggestive smirk. Her light blue gaze flicked up, and she sighed, as she saw Henrik. “I’ll show it to you later.”

  Rose squinted. “Was that a dirty joke? Because we’re on a plane, so…”

  Kara laughed. She took a step back and winked—before turning to leave.

  “Winking is not an answer!” Rose called after her, as she walked away.

  —

  Rose made her rounds, checking on everyone, making sure that they were all ready for take-off. Her last stop was her friends. She sat down in the seat across from Kallias and Owen. She couldn’t help but notice that Owen wasn’t as nervous around Kallias, as he once was. Becoming a vampire had loosened him up a little.

  “Despite her faults,” Owen said, “Jared’s mom was an excellent teacher.”

  “If you thought your aim was good before you became a vampire,” Kallias said, “just wait until you learn to use your heightened senses. You’ll never miss.”

  The mention of Jared’s mother jogged Rose’s memory. “Jared’s mom—I saw her in the newspaper,” she interjected. “She’s leading the Assassin of Light.”

  “Not surprising,” Owen scoffed. “She was one of their best marksmen.”

  “You’re not meeting with her, are you?” Kallias asked Rose. “She’s going to be out for blood, after what happened to her son. She probably blames you.”

  “I’m sure she does,” Rose sighed. “He was supposed to kill me, after all.”

  “She’s the reason he was so desperate to do it, though,” Owen told Rose. “I’m sure of it. She’s manipulative. Jared could never handle disappointing her.”

  “They’re all manipulative,” Rose sighed. “Just look at what they’ve done with the human governments. Within months, they’d taken control of the world.”

  “Not within months,” Owen corrected. “Within centuries. They’ve been preparing for this for over three hundred years—since Aaron and Kara wiped out the first order. The Assassins of Light are as charismatic as they are manipulative. They use people’s fear and religion to make themselves look like the good guys.”

  Rose nodded. “Like they did in the beginning. Pretending to be monks.”

  “And they were monks,” Owen said. “That’s why people trusted them.”

  “They become whatever people trust,” Rose realized. “In modern times, humans trust military, law enforcement—authority. So, that’s what they became.”

  “Don’t forget businesses,” Owen added. “Money controls everything.”

  Rose leaned back in her seat, considering that. “We need humans to see what they really are,” she muttered to herself, “to realize they’re not trustworthy.”

  “Rose,” Kallias warned, “you’re playing with fire, going up against them.”

  “The fire is already out of control,” Rose said. “There’s nowhere to hide, nowhere to run.” She shrugged. “Might as well play. We’re burning, either way.”

  “You’ve changed,” Kallias said, frowning, “since the last time I saw you.”

  “I’ve grown,” Rose said. “My world used to be smaller than it is, now.”

  His light brown eyes softened. “You seem confident—more grounded.”

  “I still have a lot of insecurities, but…” Rose trailed off, offering him an apologetic smile. “Honestly, it was…Kara, who helped me so much in that area.”

  “Wow,” Owen said, deadpan, “way to rub salt on the wound, Rose.”

  Rose sank lower in her seat and in a small voice, said, “I didn’t mean to.”

  “It’s all right,” Kallias assured her. “I’m just glad she makes you happy.”

  “Really?” Rose said. She straightened, surprised by the change in attitude. She studied his body language—his long legs stretched out languidly, his muscular shoulders rolled back against the seat. No signs of dishonesty. “That’s different.”

  “Yeah, it is,” Kallias admitted. One of his shoulders lifted in a tired shrug. “I was so angry at you after your death. I stopped caring about your happiness.”

  “I hurt you,” Rose said softly. “I didn’t deserve happiness. I still don’t.”

  “That’s not true,” Kallias told her. “You do, and I’m glad you found it.”

  Rose felt as if every muscle in her body had relaxed. She hadn’t realized how much weight she’d carried—over what had happened between them—until it was lifted from her. “I…” she trailed off. “It means a lot…to hear you say that.”

  “I should’ve said it sooner,” Kallias sighed. His hands curled around the arms of the seat, as he pushed himself to his feet. “I need to go check on Emma.”

  “She’s asleep,” Rose said, “but I’m sure Erik wouldn’t mind seeing you.”

  “Yeah,” Kallias said with another sigh. “We’ll talk more later, all right?”

  “Okay,” Rose said with a sad smile. She waited until he was gone to take his seat—sitting down next to Owen, instead of across from him. “How are you?”

  Owen laughed at the question. “We’re in the middle of a world war,” he reminded her, “and I accidentally switched sides a few weeks before it started.”

  “Sorry about that,” Rose said uneasily, “but you seem to have adjusted.”

  “Yeah, it’s not so bad,” Owen said, “until humans are shooting at you.”

  Rose glanced at him, her brows furrowing. “Sorry about that, too.”

  “Stop apologizing,” Owen said with a laugh. “It’s not your fault.”

  Rose looked up, just as Kara left the cockpit. Kara’s icy blue gaze briefly met Rose’s, before she turned and strolled toward Tom. She grabbed a bottle of whiskey from him and opened it. Then, she sank down in the seat in front of him.

  Owen watched them, too. “What do you think of him?” he asked Rose.

  “Hmm?” Rose said. She glanced at Owen—only to realize that he’d been watching the same people Rose was watching. “Oh. You mean
Tom.” Her bright blue gaze shifted back toward Kara and Tom. “I think he has a weird obsession with debt,” she muttered, her mind clearly elsewhere. “I mean, it’s been like half a year since I saved his life. You’d think he would’ve forgotten about it by now.”

  Owen stared blankly at her. “Not what I meant, Rose.”

  Rose glanced at him. “Ohhh,” she said, drawing out the word. An amused smile spread across her face. “You mean because you have a crush on him.”

  “It’s a little early for a crush,” he said, “especially since he’s a vampire.”

  Rose’s brows furrowed. “I thought we were over the vampire-thing.”

  “We are,” Owen said, “but…vampires have messy histories. It kind of comes with the territory, you know. I don’t know anything about Tom’s history.”

  Rose’s frown deepened. “I thought you knew all of our histories already.”

  Owen shook his head. “He’s too young. He wasn’t in any of the books.”

  “Ah,” Rose said, chewing on her lip. “He mentioned a few things to me, once, but it’s not my place to tell you. I’m sure he’d tell you, though, if you asked.”

  “I will,” Owen told her. “But I’d also like to know your opinion of him.”

  Rose smiled. “I think he’s nice, and I think he likes you,” she told him. “And statistically-speaking, he’s less likely to shoot you than your last boyfriend.”

  He shot a peeved look at her. “I didn’t ask for a statistical analysis, Rose.”

  “I’m just saying,” Rose laughed, “who needs guns when you have fangs?”

  Owen blinked at her dark humor. “Uh,” he said, staring warily at Rose’s fangs, which flashed in her mouth, as she laughed. “Well, would you date him?”

  Rose cast a curious glance in Tom’s direction. He stood on the other side of the plane, sharing a bottle of whiskey with Kara. She didn’t exactly feel anything when she looked at him. Whether that was because she knew he was gay or simply because she saw him as a friend, she didn’t know. “I don’t know if he’s my type.”

  Owen raised an eyebrow. He followed her gaze—focusing, instead, on the blue-haired Viking beside Tom. “Oh? And what is your type, Rose?” he asked, nudging her playfully. “Women who can kill you in five thousand different ways?”

  “No!” Rose scoffed, rolling her eyes. “I date men, too.”

  “Yeah, that was definitely the questionable part of that statement,” he said.

  She laughed appreciatively at his sarcasm. “For the record,” she said with a smile. “I can kill people in thousands of ways, too. Without even lifting a finger.”

  Owen slowly turned toward her, his eyes wide. “What the hell, Rose?”

  “I’m joking. Obviously,” Rose assured him. Then, she smiled. “Kind of.”

  “I’m glad you haven’t lost your sense of humor,” Owen said sarcastically.

  Rose laughed at that. “Your vampire-crush is staring at you, by the way.”

  Owen cast a quick glance in Tom’s direction and froze, as he accidentally made eye-contact with him. Tom’s warm, brown eyes watched him curiously, and there was a hint of a smile on his lips. “Why is he looking at me? What do I do?”

  “Why are you asking me?” Rose said. “I have less experience than you.”

  “Yeah, you’re right. You have no idea what you’re doing,” he muttered.

  “Umm, ouch,” Rose complained, frowning, “but you’re not wrong.”

  “Oh my god,” Owen whispered, glancing at her. “Can he hear us?”

  Rose turned toward him, her eyebrows high. “He’s a vampire. Of course he can hear us,” she said sassily. “Whether he is hearing us or not, I don’t know.”

  He rolled his eyes—but laughed, as he did. “I did not miss your sassiness.”

  “Yes, you did,” Rose said with a smile. She laughed, as he smiled back.

  “Maybe a little,” Owen admitted. He glanced back at Tom and panicked, as he saw the vampire approaching him. He grasped Rose’s hoodie. “Uhh, Rose?”

  With a laugh, Rose pried his fingers off of her hoodie and climbed to her feet. “Sorry, you’re on your own,” she told him. “I have to check on Audrey.”

  “What? No,” he cried. “Is this payback for the cake thing? With Kallias?”

  It took Rose a minute to even remember what he was talking about. “Oh, yeah, the icing. At the café,” she said, pointing at him. “It wasn’t. But now, it is.”

  “You can’t retroactively change it,” he said. “It doesn’t work that way!”

  Rose shrugged unsympathetically. “I really do need to check on Audrey.”

  “She’s in internet withdrawals!” he said. “You better hope she has food.”

  Rose crossed her fingers and smiled. She walked off, leaving Owen alone.

  To be approached by the mysterious vampire he was super-attracted to.

  Tom pointed a large finger at the now-empty seat. “Can I sit beside you?”

  “Well, my best friend abandoned me, so I suppose so,” Owen grumbled.

  Tom chuckled and sat down. His broad frame overfilled the seat, causing his shoulder to brush against Owen’s. Owen immediately jolted up in his seat, his eyes widening, as a strange but pleasant sense of awareness rippled under his skin.

  “What the…”

  “Blood bond,” Tom said with a grin. “You’ll get used to it.”

  Owen glanced at him in surprise. “This is what a blood bond feels like?”

  “Yep,” Tom said, studying him. “You didn’t feel it when I kissed you?”

  “Uh, I thought that was just…” Owen froze. “I didn’t know what it was.”

  Tom gave another warm chuckle—which Owen was hopelessly attracted to. “Should be a weak bond,” he said, “as long as you didn’t have feelings for me.”

  “How could I have feelings for you?” Owen scoffed. “I don’t know you.”

  Tom’s dark eyes danced with amusement. “Not even a slight attraction?”

  “Slight?” Owen said, his mouth dry. His hazel eyes shifted toward Tom, taking in all of his aesthetically pleasing features. “No,” he lied. “No attraction.”

  Tom chuckled. “I get the feeling you and Rose were talking about me.”

  Owen shifted nervously. “Oh, yeah, that was Rose,” he muttered, totally throwing her under the bus. “She thinks you’re going a bit overboard,” he paused, glancing shyly at Tom, “with the whole repaying-her-for-saving-your-life thing.”

  Tom lifted an eyebrow. “Well, saving someone’s life is a pretty big deal.”

  “Not to Rose,” Owen laughed. “To her, it’s just this ordinary thing.” He shook his head and laughed. “She hates attention. When you get the chance, you should ask Audrey to tell you about the time our college tried to recognize Rose with an award.” He started laughing, unable to finish the story. “It was hilarious.”

  Tom’s dark gaze shifted toward Owen, lingering on Owen’s curved lips. “It must be a great story,” he teased, “if that cute laugh of yours is any indication.”

  Owen froze. “Are you,” he paused, smiling nervously, “flirting with me?”

  “Trying to,” Tom said with a shameless grin. He crossed his arms and tilted his head in Rose’s direction. “So, how did you become friends with Rose?”

  Owen shrugged. “We work together,” he said automatically. He winced and amended, “Or we did. Before we were running from psychopaths and such.”

  Tom nodded thoughtfully. “So, it wasn’t a…not-straight thing, then,” he said, a little unsure of the current lingo. “We do tend to stick together, after all.”

  Owen’s eyebrows lifted, as he understood. “Ohhh,” he said, drawing out the word. “No. I mean, Rose and I have a lot in common. We’re both nerds.” He blushed, as Tom cast an amused glance his way. “But Rose actually never talked much about her sexuality. I suspected, but for years, she didn’t even mention it.”

  Tom frowned. “Not even when she found out th
at you weren’t straight?”

  Owen snorted, “No. Rose is too much of a weirdo for that.” He smiled at Tom’s curious frown. “Rose walked in on Jared and me, once—you know, in the act.” He laughed at the memory. “She apologized about a billion times, which was more awkward than if she hadn’t, but she didn’t say anything about me being gay—not even the next day, at work. I wasn’t open about my sexuality there. You never know how people will react, you know. But after work, I asked her over to play trivia—Rose loves trivia—and to, you know, talk. When I finally asked her how she felt about it, Rose—being the sassy weirdo she is—didn’t respond with the obvious: ‘No, of course I don’t disapprove of you—because I’m not straight, either.’ No. Instead, she said, ‘Owen, why would you ever think that I’d disapprove of who you are? It’s your inability to operate a lock that I’m concerned about.’”

  Tom snorted in amusement. “Kara’s always loved the sassy ones.”

  Owen laughed along with him. “Well, Rose is definitely her type, then.”

  “I knew it as soon as I saw her,” Tom said with a smug grin. He settled back in his seat. “But that had a lot to do with the way she was looking at Kara.”

  Owen snorted at that. “Yeah, she’s not very subtle, is she?” he said, as he watched her from across the plane. He glanced curiously at Tom. “Is that why you and Kara became friends? The whole queer-friends-sticking-together thing?”

  Tom considered that for a moment. “Not as necessary for us, really,” he muttered. “Vampires are more accepting, in that sense. But yeah, I guess there’s some solidarity there. There’s also the fact that Kara spends half her nights in the bar—drinking her weight in whiskey and getting into fights with everybody.”

  Owen didn’t laugh. “I hear she did a lot of damage that way.”

  Tom’s smile faded. “You heard a lot from that ex of yours, didn’t you?” he said, casting a disapproving look at Owen. “If you knew the way Kara struggled with that shit—the way she never got over what Alana did to her—you wouldn’t hold it against her. She ain’t perfect. No one is. But we all got our reasons.”

  Owen tapped his fingers against his thighs, peering nervously at Tom. “I didn’t mean to insult your friend,” he sighed. He shrugged uncomfortably. “I just haven’t figured out how to separate what I was taught from what I know now.”