The Reign of Darkness

by Britney Jackson

  Kara’s heart skipped with fear. “What are you afraid will happen?”

  “I don’t know,” Rose whispered. “I’m just afraid something will.”

  Kara buried her face in Rose’s long, red hair, inhaling the scent of honey and fear. Rose didn’t often smell of fear, but she did now. “It won’t happen,” she whispered into Rose’s hair. “I will never let that happen.” Every word she spoke lilted musically, her accent stronger than usual—the way it often was in the middle of the day. “I’ll go into the Darkness with you. If you can’t escape, neither will I.”

  “Kara,” Rose breathed. “Even if that were possible, I wouldn’t want it.”

  “Do you know what I don’t want?” Kara whispered. She spoke so softly, as if she were sharing a secret with Rose. She pressed her lips against Rose’s hair, her voice muffled, her words difficult to understand. “I don’t want to lose you.”

  Rose’s chest ached. Whether it was because of the cold or the pain she’d heard in Kara’s voice, she didn’t know. Her cold mouth kissed Kara’s shoulder.

  Kara shuddered a little at the cold, but the kiss soothed her, all the same. She shook her head. “I’m trying to take care of you, and you’re comforting me.”

  Rose was quiet for a while. Then, she sighed, “What’s happening to me?”

  “Nothing, love,” Kara said, even though she couldn’t be sure of that. “It was just a nightmare. Pre-battle jitters.” She squeezed Rose tightly. “You’re okay.”

  Rose closed her eyes, exhaustion pulling her back to sleep. “I’m not.”

  Another wave of terror coursed through Kara’s veins, cooling her blood. They just had to survive the battle later that night. Then, the war would be over.

  Kara had to believe that. She had to believe that Rose would be all right.

  Zosime was wrong. They were all wrong.

  Rose wasn’t Darkness.

  She was Rose.

  And she’d be fine.

  —

  The battle was only the first step of the plan.

  It was an important battle, no doubt—but also, a distraction.

  The second step of the plan involved Rose leaving her friends, and Rose found that step to be more challenging than she’d expected. The battle itself was going well, but that didn’t stop Rose from worrying about the people she loved.

  Rose glanced at Kara, watching as Kara fought effortlessly. She couldn’t think of a time when Kara had ever seemed out of her element. Kara had this way of making everything look natural, even when it wasn’t. But this? This wasn’t an act. The battlefield was Kara’s element, and even as she fought off several people, at once, she looked completely at ease. Her body moved with grace and precision, and every movement she made seemed to radiate lethal power and sensuality. Rose blinked out of her daze, just as Kara buried her battle-axe in her opponent’s chest.

  Kara jerked the battle-axe out of the guy’s chest and turned toward Rose, smiling as she saw Rose watching her. “Are you watching me fight, Commander?”

  Rose cleaned her already-clean dagger with the edge of her jacket—trying to look busy doing something other than staring at Kara. “Stop calling me that.”

  Kara stepped toward Rose, the ground crunching beneath her boots. She tilted her head, catching Rose’s gaze. “You think my battle-axe is hot, don’t you?”

  “I’m not attracted to inanimate objects, no,” Rose said in her grumpiest tone. But when she heard Kara’s soft, breathy laugh, she couldn’t resist the urge to smile. She laughed, “Are you really flirting with me in the middle of a battle?”

  Kara shrugged, her smile tilting mischievously. “What else would I do?”

  “Oh, I don’t know,” Rose muttered. “Maybe focus on not dying?”

  Kara laughed at her sarcasm. “Are you worried about me, Commander?”

  Rose stared at her, suddenly very serious. “Yes,” she confessed. “I am.”

  Kara’s smile faded. She nodded. Then, she glanced around the battlefield, checking to make sure no one was watching. “If you’re going, this is your time.”

  “I know,” Rose said, her throat constricted. “I just don’t want to leave.”

  Kara’s light blue gaze shifted back toward her. “Your plan is good, sexy,” she assured her. “Leave us to win the battle—so that you can go win the war.”

  Rose almost laughed at the way Kara just threw playful nicknames in the middle of incredibly serious moments, but she was too nervous to laugh. “Okay, but only if you promise me you’ll be all right,” she sighed. “Please. Promise me?”

  Kara stepped closer. “I swear to you,” she growled, “that I’ll be all right, as long as you are.” A hint of fear flashed in her light blue eyes. “Only if you are.”

  Rose swallowed uneasily at that. “Fair enough,” she said, breathing out a shaky breath. She glanced out at Kallias, who was fighting in the distance. “Kallias is going to flip out when he realizes I only told him half of the plan,” she warned Kara. She grimaced. “He’s a little less rational than you are about things like that.”

  “I’ll try to hold him back,” Kara assured her, “but just so you know, if I sense that you’re in danger, all deals are off. I’m coming for you, plan be damned.”

  Rose nodded. “Also fair,” she admitted. “I’d do the same for you.”

  Kara looked as if she wanted to argue with that—to tell Rose not to stray from the plan for her sake—but she knew that would be hypocritical. So, she just nodded. She dropped her battle-axe and took a step forward. “Come here, sexy.”

  Rose closed her eyes, just as Kara’s mouth pressed against her own. Her fingers clutched the corners of Kara’s jacket, as Kara’s hands cupped Rose’s face.

  A soft gasp—full of anxiety and pain—escaped Kara’s lips, as she kissed Rose. It was the first time she’d let that emotion out since Rose’s nightmare, and she only let it show for a moment—only for Rose. She felt Rose’s arm slip around her waist, holding her tighter, and as always, Rose’s touch soothed her. She closed the space between their bodies, flattening her body against Rose’s, as she pressed her tongue into Rose’s mouth. Rose moaned, at the taste of Kara, at the softness of her tongue, and then, she pressed back, her tongue sliding against Kara’s. Lust disoriented her, leaving her longing to taste Kara in other ways—even though she knew it wasn’t the time for thoughts like those. Or kisses like this, for that matter.

  When Kara pulled away, her eyes were wide and dark. “Good luck kiss.”

  Rose pressed her face against Kara’s shoulder, still gasping from the kiss.

  “Time to go,” Kara murmured in her ear. “See you after the battle, sexy.”

  The familiar line brought a smile to Rose’s lips, just as it always did. Rose stepped back, and the unseen barrier that Rose had created around them fell away, leaving Kara once again vulnerable to bullets. “Be safe,” Rose said. Then, she left.

  —

  When Rose opened the door, she found herself face-to-face with several guns. She leaned back on her heels, a little surprised by the proximity. “I can stop bullets with my mind,” she reminded them. “You might as well put those away.”

  To the surprise of the other humans in the room, the Assassins of Light lowered their guns. The closest Assassin to Rose—a tall, blonde man—turned to another Assassin and said, “Call the Commander. See what she wants us to do.”

  “What do you mean?” a politician, seated at the table behind them, asked. He pointed at Rose. “Kill her! That’s your job, isn’t it? She’s the dangerous one!”

  Rose scowled at the politician—that she didn’t exactly recognize. Had it been that long since she’d paid attention to human politics? “Right…you guys are dropping bombs everywhere, but I’m the dangerous one,” she said sarcastically.

  The Assassin of Light glanced at the politician. “Our bullets wouldn’t kill her, anyway, Prime Minister,” he sighed. “Our commands, regarding Rose Foster, were to aim our guns at someone s
he loved, but she’s alone. So, we can’t do that.”

  “That’s why I came alone,” Rose said with a smile. “Now, you’ll have to talk to me. I’m self-destructive, maybe, but not stupid. I learn from my mistakes.”

  “Unfortunate,” the Assassin of Light muttered. “So, why are you here?”

  “I’m just here to talk,” Rose said, “to the people in charge, preferably.”

  The Assassin raised an eyebrow. “That would depend on who you ask.”

  The Assassin of Light at the back of the room mumbled a soft agreement into the phone and hung up. He looked up. “She says to take her to the Ghost.”

  Rose lifted her eyebrow at what she assumed was a code-name. “Ghost?”

  “The Ghost isn’t here,” the blonde Assassin of Light said. He shook his head in exasperation and added under his breath, “He isn’t anywhere, until he is.”

  Rose glanced at him, her stomach plunging in dread. She shifted her gaze toward the large conference table in the room—filled with people in suits, people in military uniforms, and a few with the Assassin of Light insignia on their clothes: a yellow sun, engulfed in red flames. They whispered amongst themselves, casting fearful glances in Rose’s direction. “What do you mean? Who’s this…Ghost?”

  “You wanted to talk to the person in charge?” the Assassin of Light said. He offered her a slow, bitter shrug. “It sounds like you’re going to get your wish.”

  “Is it just me, or do people always say that right before the person regrets their wish?” Rose muttered under her breath. “So, where do I find this Ghost?”

  The blonde Assassin of Light turned to the one at the back of the room, who’d just spoken with their commander, apparently. “Our commander said he’ll be in her office,” the one at the back of the room said. “She said he’ll be alone.”

  “He’s here? Since when?” the other Assassin muttered. He rolled his eyes and turned toward Rose. He grabbed her by the arm. “Whatever. Come with me.”

  Rose glared at the hand on her arm, but she didn’t bother to pull her arm out of his grasp. She figured peace negotiations probably went a little smoother, when you didn’t throw your enemy across the room with your mind. Just a guess.

  As several Assassins led her out of the conference room—which was full of politicians—and down a hallway, toward an office, Rose briefly considered the fact that the others wouldn’t know where she was—that they’d expect her to be in the conference room—but that was good, Rose decided, because the Assassins of Light had already admitted that they’d planned to target the people Rose loved.

  No matter what, Rose preferred to risk her own life, before anyone else’s.

  She’d lost so much already.

  She refused to lose anyone else.

  “Here it is.”

  The Assassin of Light stopped abruptly, in front of a large, oak door. He turned to Rose. “This is the Commander’s office. You’ll find the Ghost in there.”

  Rose’s brows furrowed. “You’re not coming inside?”

  The Assassin let out a short, bitter laugh. “Absolutely not.”

  Rose’s frown deepened. She’d assumed that they would insist on coming with her—to protect whoever she was about to meet. But the way he’d said that—well, Rose was starting to wonder if she was the one who would need protection.

  The Assassin waved his gun at the door, rushing her inside. “Good luck.”

  “Pretty sure that was sarcasm,” Rose muttered, “but thanks, anyway.”

  The Assassin of Light gave her an unimpressed arch of his eyebrows and then retreated down the hall, leaving her unguarded and alone, in front of a door.

  Rose stared at the door for a moment. Then, praying that her hunch was wrong, she opened it. Her eyes narrowed, as she made eye-contact with a pair of pale blue eyes. “I’d hoped it was just a weird code-name,” she sighed, “but I knew, when they said it—when they said ghost, I knew—it was you.” She stepped inside.

  “My Eklektos,” Erastos said with a bow, “I’m pleased to see you again.”

  “Are you?” Rose said, as her eyes began to glow. “You shouldn’t be.”

  A strange smile curled at the corners of his lips—a rare show of emotion for him. If you could even call that emotion. In her few interactions with Erastos, Rose had begun to recognize that this was one of the few things that earned some sort of response from him—the glow of her eyes, the display of her power. It was as if it fed some kind of hunger inside of him. “There’s so much you don’t know.”

  “I’m aware of that, actually,” Rose informed him, “especially now that I know you’ve been helping them.” She shrugged and gave a bitter laugh. “I’m not even surprised, though. That’s the thing. If you were trying to pull off some major betrayal, you should’ve acted a bit less…creepy? I know you’re a vampire, but…”

  “Betrayal?” Erastos repeated. He frowned. “I haven’t betrayed anyone.”

  Rose stared at him, brows arched in disbelief. “Dude, you’re their Hitler.”

  “Hypatia warned you, didn’t she?” Erastos said. “About the prophecy?”

  “Oh, you mean your crazy, brother-in-law-loving girlfriend?” Rose said.

  “Hypatia and I haven’t interacted in that way in a very long time,” Erastos said. He didn’t seem surprised—or even concerned—that Rose knew. “Though she never stopped trying. I tried to tell her. I don’t have those desires anymore.”

  “Yeah, I can see where genocide might lower your sex-drive,” Rose said. “Anti-depressants do it, too, if you want to switch to something less horrendous.”

  “I get the feeling you trust my niece more than you do me,” Erastos said.

  “Well, she’s not associated with Nazis, so…” Rose flashed a sassy smile.

  “Myrinne knows the prophecies,” Erastos said, “and there’s a reason she destroyed them.” He was silent, for a moment. “You don’t want to know why?”

  Rose shrugged. “I figure you’ll tell me, anyway. Or kill me,” she muttered. “Either way, it doesn’t require a response from me.” She glanced back at the door.

  Noticing that glance, Erastos said, “They won’t know where to find you.”

  “I know,” Rose told him. Then, under her breath, she added, “I hope.”

  “We call you the Eklektos,” he said. “There’s a question implied in that.”

  Having asked that question many times, Rose said, “Chosen for what?”

  “You assumed you were chosen to be the hero of this story,” he stated.

  “I assumed you were insane, actually,” Rose said with her sassiest smile.

  “But you were never really suited to be the hero, were you?” Erastos said.

  Rose tried to hide her panic, as her pulse spiked. “What are you saying?”

  “My niece destroyed the prophecies because she was arrogant enough to think she could defy fate,” Erastos said. “She thought she could prevent the end.”

  Her throat constricted, panic rising inside of her. “I don’t believe in fate.”

  “Then, you’re arrogant, as well,” Erastos said. That odd smile twisted at his lips again. “But I suppose you have a right to be—considering what you are.”

  “What I am,” Rose said, her brows high, “is a socially-awkward nerd who met the Hitler of vampires and had her entire life changed by it. I’m a nerd with fangs.” She squinted and added, “And…an army, now. Also, telekinetic abilities.”

  A full smile twisted at his lips, now—a smile that sent chills down Rose’s spine, a smile that raised every alarm in Rose’s body, a smile that reminded her of a shark, closing in on his prey. Erastos stepped toward her. “That was the first lie you were told,” he said with an emotionless laugh, “and you never questioned it.”

  “Pretty sure I question everything,” Rose mumbled, suddenly breathless.

  “Do you know what psychic abilities are,” Erastos asked, “my Eklektos?”

  “I,” Rose said, suddenly not
so sure, “would like to think I do, by now.”

  “What you call psychic abilities are actually just gifted parts of the mind,” Erastos said, “gifted to us by the gods. When we become creatures of Darkness, one particular goddess—the one my people call Darkness—amplifies our gifts.”

  “I, uh,” Rose mumbled, her brows furrowing. “I’m actually a Christian?”

  Erastos lifted his pale eyebrows. “I don’t find much humorous anymore, but I think,” he said thoughtfully, “many years ago, I would’ve found that funny.”

  “Oh. Good,” Rose said under her breath. “I like making people laugh.”

  “No one has ever been able to do what you do,” Erastos said. “It’s a rare power—telekinesis—and people with telekinesis rarely survive long…because of ambitious vampires, like the Son of Lilith. But even the ones who did have that ability couldn’t do what you do. You never wondered why you were so different?”

  Rose shrugged. “I usually just accept that I’m a weirdo and move on.”

  “People with telekinetic abilities might be able to make slight influences on the world around them, such as moving something small or lifting something light,” Erastos said, “but they can’t do what you do. They can’t uproot a tree, shift the earth itself, create fire… Creation doesn’t bend for them, like it does for you.”

  Rose frowned. “I don’t see why not. All of those involve moving things.”

  “But no one else has that kind of power,” Erastos said. He took another step toward Rose. “Creation doesn’t bow to telekinesis. It bows…to its Creator.”

  Rose squinted bewilderedly at him. “Okay, now, you’ve really lost me.”

  “You read so many stories,” he said, “about heroes and Chosen Ones.”

  “Weird time for you to start getting familiar with pop culture,” Rose said.

  “Of course you’d assume you were chosen to be the hero,” Erastos said.

  “I didn’t, though,” Rose argued. “Other people might have, but I didn’t.”