The Reign of Darkness

by Britney Jackson

  “What?” Erik yelled. “You’re saying you’re happy my best friend died?”

  “No,” Princess Myrinne said. “Of course not. I wanted to prevent this.”

  “How?” Kara asked the princess. “How could you have prevented it?”

  Princess Myrinne shook her head. “There should’ve been signs. Her eyes should’ve turned black. Something should’ve indicated the balance was tipping.”

  “Her eyes did turn black,” Erik mumbled, “the night her brother died.”

  Kara avoided the princess’s gaze. “And the night Osiris tried to kill me.”

  Princess Myrinne spun toward her. “And you didn’t think to warn me?”

  Kara’s intense, blue gaze snapped toward the princess, her eyes narrowed and dangerously angry. “And what would you have done,” she snarled, “if I had?”

  Princess Myrinne shrugged uneasily. “Physically, she was a vampire. The goddess in her would’ve never allowed death, but I could’ve drained her, at least.”

  Kara lifted an eyebrow. “You would’ve drained her? The woman I love?”

  Princess Myrinne swallowed uneasily, clearly sensing danger. “If she were unconscious, she wouldn’t know,” she tried to explain, “about the Lion’s death.”

  “His name is Kallias,” Erik said. “Stop talking like we’re not real people!”

  Kara gripped the battle-axe at her side and stepped closer to the princess. “You wanted to render her unconscious,” she said, so softly that only the princess heard her, “indefinitely. And yet, you wonder why I didn’t trust you with the truth?”

  Princess Myrinne stared at her in disbelief. “The world is going to end.”

  “Let it,” Kara growled. She didn’t waver, her stare cold and unyielding.

  Princess Myrinne opened her mouth and closed it, too stunned to speak.

  “What?” Erik said, too exhausted to keep up. “How’s the world ending?”

  Princess Myrinne glanced at him, ducking a little bit, as she tried to shrug away from Kara’s murderous glare. “There are…multiple possibilities,” she said, as she turned to face Erik. “But the one in the prophecy—the one that’s fated to happen—is known as the Reign of Darkness. Darkness is destruction in the flesh. She destroys—it’s her purpose. Light created the world. Darkness will destroy it.”

  Erik’s brows furrowed. “But why? Is it some kind of battle of the gods?”

  “No, no,” Princess Myrinne said. “Light and Darkness are one. Or, well, they’re supposed to be. The Eklektos was the connection between them. She was both Light and Darkness, at once. She was driven by love, which, like her, is both light and dark. With her, they’re perfectly balanced. Without her, the world ends.”

  “Well,” Erik said with a confused frown, “what happened to Rose?”

  Princess Myrinne waved her hand at the corpse in the floor. “That.”

  Erik glanced back at Kallias, more tears spilling from his eyes. “It’s all so ridiculous. Could Rose really be some kind of god? An awkward, sarcastic god?”

  “I asked myself the same thing when I met her,” Princess Myrinne said.

  “And who killed Kallias?” Erik said, a sob catching in his throat. His gaze shifted toward the princess. “No one’s told me that yet. Who could’ve killed my twenty-five-hundred-year-old, telepathic best friend? He can read your thoughts!”

  Kara studied the princess. “You said you can kill faster than I can blink.”

  Princess Myrinne frowned at Kara. “Well, it wasn’t me. I was with you!”

  “No, but you’re not the only ten-thousand-year-old vampire,” Kara said.

  “Who else would it be? Ligeia?” the princess scoffed. “She’d never do…”

  “Your uncle, princess,” Kara interrupted. “The one you said was dead.”

  “He is dead,” Princess Myrinne said. “He was executed. And cremated!”

  “What?” Erik scoffed, glancing back at the princess. “Erastos isn’t dead.”

  “We burned him,” the princess said. “Even vampire blood can’t fix that.”

  Kara turned and strolled toward the center of the mostly empty office. She knelt in front of a desk to pick up a shard of red stone. She held out her hand, the shard resting in her palm. “This is from Rose’s necklace. Who gave it to her?”

  Princess Myrinne shrugged. “I don’t know. The prophecy just described him as,” she paused, her eyes widening, “the Ghost.” She blinked in shock. “Shit.”

  “Every good liar knows how to fake their death, princess,” Kara sneered.

  “I saw his body,” Princess Myrinne insisted. “We cremated him! How…”

  “Who was the last person to see him?” Kara snarled. “You or Mommy?”

  Horror twisted at Princess Myrinne’s face. “She wanted to say goodbye.”

  “Of course she did,” Kara said in a cold, sterile tone, “and you let her.”

  Princess Myrinne scowled at the accusation. “She hadn’t gone mad yet!”

  Kara dropped the shard. “It was Erastos who killed him. I’m sure of it.”

  Princess Myrinne was still trying to process the fact that he was still alive. “Then,” she said, her face twisting in disbelief, “whose ashes are in the temple?”

  “Not your uncle’s,” Kara said.

  “In order for us to have not realized, all this time, that Erastos was alive,” Princess Myrinne said, “he would’ve had to have stayed out of sight. In solitude.”

  “Explains the way he looks,” Kara said. “He probably starves himself.”

  “That may be why he’s so emotionless,” Erik said. “If he’s lost his mind.”

  “There…might be another reason for that, actually,” the princess sighed. She winced, as they both looked her way. “Psychic abilities come from Darkness, and Light and Darkness are each other’s weaknesses. If, for instance, a high priest prayed to Light and asked for immunity from psychic abilities—especially if that high priest needed it to in order to fulfill his fated purpose, Light would grant it.”

  “Why would she do that?” Erik said. “I thought Light was the good one.”

  Princess Myrinne frowned at that. “No. Of course not. Neither of them are good or evil. Rose might be good or evil, but the separate sides of her aren’t.”

  “I’m confused,” Erik said under his breath. “Rose is three people now?”

  Kara watched lightning streak across the black sky, outside the window, and she couldn’t help but wonder if Rose had caused it. “The instability in Erik’s power is keeping people away,” she told the princess, “but it won’t last forever.”

  Erik wiped a hand under his eye. “Sorry. I lose control when I’m upset.”

  “I can handle it,” Kara told him. “Princess Myrinne can, too, apparently.”

  The princess nodded. “I suppose it’s time to tell everyone the bad news.”

  “Which bad news?” Erik said. “The fact that Kallias is…” he trailed off.

  “The fact that all of us will be,” Princess Myrinne said solemnly, “soon.”

  24

  The Dragon and the Wolf

  Alana stepped into the home she’d recently taken—and froze, as her gaze landed on a familiar, mischievous warrior. Kara lounged near the bottom of the staircase with her legs stretched out in front of her. Her waistcoat opened around her shirt, and the breeches she wore hugged her long legs. It had been almost five decades, since Alana had seen Kara, and she’d missed her more than she’d known.

  With an excited squeal, Alana rushed forward, throwing herself at Kara.

  Kara fell back against the stairs, as Alana leapt onto her. With a surprised laugh, she folded her arms around Alana and pulled her close. It had been so long since they’d been civil to each other—much less pleasant—that Alana’s reaction caught her completely off-guard. Alana slid her arms into Kara’s open waistcoat, embracing her beneath it, with only her shirt to separate their skin. With her face pressed into Alana’s pale blo
nde hair, Kara couldn’t help but inhale Alana’s scent. It soothed her, despite all the reasons it shouldn’t have, and Kara felt herself relax, despite all the reasons she shouldn’t have. “Nice dress,” Kara sighed, brushing her fingertips over the thick, blue fabric of the dress. She leaned back. “I missed you.”

  Alana studied her with a suspicious look. “Did you?” she murmured. She pulled her hand out of Kara’s waistcoat and moved it to Kara’s brownish-blonde hair. She slipped her fingers into the braid, loosening it. “How did you find me?”

  “Same way I always do,” Kara murmured. “My spy network has grown.”

  “So I’ve heard,” Alana said. She pulled the black ribbon from Kara’s hair, freeing the brownish-blonde hair from its braid. It spilled around her shoulders, brushing the collar of her shirt. “I have to admit, darling: I wasn’t expecting you.”

  “I know you weren’t,” Kara said with a smile. “I wanted to surprise you.”

  Alana’s dark blue eyes narrowed suspiciously. “You haven’t done that in a long time,” she reminded her. “Usually, I have to persuade you to come to me.”

  “You mean force,” Kara said, a bit of hostility slipping out. She recovered quickly, though—her expression and tone softening, in an instant. She brushed a thumb over Alana’s full, pink lips. “I just want the freedom to choose, Alana.”

  Alana tilted her head down, licking the pad of Kara’s thumb. “Do you?”

  Kara chuckled. “Let’s at least have a drink first. Before you seduce me.”

  Alana lifted an eyebrow, her blue eyes wide and dark with lust. She leaned forward, tugging at the lapels of Kara’s coat, as she pressed her lips against Kara’s neck. “I’d rather,” she whispered, as she nipped at Kara’s neck, “drink from you.”

  Kara moaned. Her body reacted to the sting of Alana’s fangs. She longed to feel Alana’s bite. She longed to let Alana recreate their blood bond. Her fingers slipped into Alana’s white-blonde hair, and she tilted her head to the side, gasping, as Alana licked her neck. She almost let it happen. She almost let Alana bite her neck. Her eyes snapped open, as she realized what she was doing—as she realized what she’d almost let Alana do. She couldn’t afford to be manipulated right now.

  “I brought wine,” Kara told Alana, “from France. Let me fix you some.”

  Alana leaned back, narrowing her eyes at the interruption. “France?”

  “I did some work there,” Kara said. “It’s a lovely wine. Want a taste?”

  Alana’s lips curved into a deep, seductive smile. “I always want a taste.”

  Kara lifted her eyebrows, and her smile widened. “Then, you’ll have it.”

  Alana climbed to her feet, her dark blue gaze shifting down, lingering on Kara, as she smoothed out her skirts. She followed at a slower pace, as Kara stood and walked toward the table. She took the glass that Kara handed to her, watching as Kara opened the bottle. “France, you said? What work did you have there?”

  A smile tilted at one side of Kara’s mouth. “I was spying on someone.”

  “Mmm-hmm,” Alana said, no longer smiling. “And who was that?”

  Kara tilted the bottle, pouring red, fruit-scented liquid into Alana’s glass. “There’s no reason for that to concern you, Alana,” she said with a smile, “unless, of course, you were in France.” She paused. “Doing something especially sinister.”

  “How much did you see,” Alana said, each word venomous, “darling?”

  “Enough,” Kara said. She set the bottle aside and sank her fangs into her wrist. She watched, as Alana’s dark blue eyes dilated with hunger. Alana pretended to be in control—but really, Alana was as helpless to the connection as Kara was.

  Alana held the glass, as Kara added a few drops of blood. “How much?”

  “I haven’t told Aaron yet,” Kara told her. “I wanted to talk to you first.”

  When Kara lifted her wrist to her mouth, Alana reached out and grasped it tightly. She stepped closer and bent her head. She maintained eye-contact with Kara, as she licked the blood from Kara’s wrist, healing the bite with her tongue.

  Kara shivered at the sensation, and a rush of arousal poured through her.

  “Is there any way I can convince you not to tell him?” Alana murmured.

  Still a little dazed with lust, Kara nodded. “I wouldn’t be here otherwise.”

  “Hmm,” Alana said. She straightened and released Kara’s wrist. Her gaze followed Kara’s movements, as Kara poured herself a drink. When Kara finished fixing her drink, she held out her glass toward Alana, wordlessly asking for blood. Alana lifted her own wrist to her mouth. “I should make you bite it yourself,” she said, before sinking her fangs into her own skin, “since I know you’re only trying to avoid a blood bond.” Her dark blue eyes narrowed, when Kara didn’t deny it.

  Kara said nothing, as Alana added a few drops of her blood to the wine.

  Alana grasped Kara’s waistcoat and jerked her closer. “I don’t know why you think you can avoid it,” she murmured, her voice an oozing mix of venom and sensuality. “You know you’re not leaving without making love to me.” A soft moan escaped Kara’s lips, as Alana pressed the front of her body against Kara’s—and Alana knew that she’d gained the upper hand. Alana giggled, “You never do.”

  Rather than give in to her urge to kiss Alana, Kara lifted her glass to her mouth and started gulping down the wine. Alana waited for a moment, assuming that Kara was only taking a sip, but when it became clear that Kara was going to drink every drop of it in one take, if she had to, Alana rolled her eyes and stepped back. The blood and alcohol warmed Kara’s blood and muffled the roar of desire.

  “Since when does Kara Unnarsdóttir not want to make love?” Alana said bitterly. She waved her glass, nearly spilling her wine. “I mean, yes, you do often try to kill me, but… You usually make love to me at least once, before the fight.”

  Kara lowered her glass and glanced at Alana. “I have somewhere to be.”

  Alana spun toward Kara. “And it’s more important to you than I am?”

  A bitter smile curled at the corners of Kara’s lips. “Never,” she snarled.

  In contrast, Alana’s smile was sickeningly sweet. “Good!” she sang. She spun around, her skirts brushing the floor, as she danced around the table. “You didn’t kill him, did you?” she asked. “It’s okay to hurt him, but you can’t kill him.”

  Kara hid her confusion behind a smile. “You’ll have to be more specific.”

  “Isaac Attwood?” Alana said. She spun toward Kara, her eyebrows high. “That is who you saw me with, isn’t it?” Her dark blue eyes flashed. “In France?”

  “Of course,” Kara lied. “I can’t say I was happy to find out he was alive.”

  “I knew you wouldn’t be,” Alana said. She waved her glass dismissively. “Don’t worry. His existence isn’t a happy one. He hates being a vampire—spends most of his time in hiding. That has to be miserable. And I occasionally find ways to…make him more miserable.” She smiled sweetly. “If you know what I mean.”

  Kara blew out a frustrated sigh. “He was an Assassin of Light, Alana.”

  “Oh, I don’t want to hear it from you,” Alana said. She rolled her eyes. “You work with all kinds of people, but I’m supposed to feel bad about Isaac?”

  “I work with criminals—and yes, the occasional asshole, who needs me to kick his ass,” Kara admitted. “But I don’t work with extremists who want to see my entire species eradicated from the planet. We killed them for a reason, Alana!”

  “Yes, and I brought him back for a reason,” Alana said with a dark glare. “You don’t know everything, darling.” She laughed. “You don’t know anything.”

  Kara frowned suspiciously. “I won’t tell Aaron, if you tell me the reason.”

  Alana lifted her glass to her mouth. She giggled, “There’s my negotiator.”

  Kara watched, as Alana sipped her wine. “It must be one hell of a reason, if you haven’t killed him yet,�
� she said. “As I remember, he was quite unpleasant.”

  “Yes, it’s a bit of a rocky relationship,” Alana said dismissively. “He says terrible, disgusting things to me, and I skin him alive. Then, he heals, and we start all over again.” She shrugged her slender shoulders. “It’s messy, but…it works.”

  Kara lifted her eyebrows at that. “Explains the screaming,” she muttered.

  “Erastos says I can’t kill him,” Alana sighed. “So, I don’t. I just hurt him.”

  “Erastos?” Kara said with a frown. “I don’t think I’ve heard that name.”

  Alana smiled, her dark blue eyes sparkling with amusement. “Oh, darling, I’m sure you’ve heard it before,” she said. “I’m sure you’ve heard it a few times.”

  That tone—Kara knew that tone. That was the one Alana used when she knew something that Kara didn’t. “Since when do you take orders from anyone?”

  Alana’s smile faded. “It’s not… It’s not like that,” she sighed. She looked away, suddenly conflicted. “I’m part of the plan because I chose to be part of it.”

  “What plan?” Kara asked. “What could be worth working with Isaac?”

  “Vengeance, darling,” Alana sighed, as if Kara were a child, struggling to understand the simplest of concepts. “And a better world that will one day exist.”

  “A better world?” Kara laughed in disbelief. She set her glass on the table. “You think you’re going to make a better world by what? Exacting revenge on it?”

  “Oh, no, darling,” Alana laughed. “I’ll have nothing to do with that part.”

  Kara rolled her eyes. “Forget it,” she said. “I have enough information.”

  “Enough for what?” Alana snapped. “You said you wouldn’t tell Aaron.”

  Kara laughed. “Come on, love. You didn’t actually believe that, did you?”

  The glass shattered in Alana’s hand, the scent of her blood filling the air.