The Reign of Darkness

by Britney Jackson

  Ligeia immediately took a step back. “As you wish, princess,” she sighed. Her dark gaze narrowed at Kara. “But if I may ask…why? Without the Eklektos, she’s unimportant. We only tolerated her because she was sworn to the Eklektos.”

  “Fuck you and your tolerance,” Kara snarled.

  Princess Myrinne winced at Kara’s remark. “Things have changed.”

  Ligeia frowned curiously at Kara. “Fine. But I’d like my sword back.”

  Princess Myrinne turned to Kara, lifting her eyebrows expectantly.

  Kara rolled her eyes and flipped the sword again, holding it by the blade, so that the hilt faced Ligeia. She continued to glare at Zosime, even as Ligeia took her sword. “You could’ve warned me,” she growled. “You should’ve warned me.”

  “Kara,” Zosime said, “I wasn’t the one who kept secrets. That was you.”

  A soft sigh escaped Kara’s lips. She looked away and muttered, “I know.”

  Zosime’s brown eyes softened with sympathy. “It isn’t your fault, either. It isn’t anyone’s fault. Fate is a cruel force—and unchangeable for people like us.”

  The princess lifted an eyebrow, as if Zosime had just given her an idea.

  And based on the way Zosime watched her, Princess Myrinne figured it was safe to assume that she’d done it on purpose. Her gaze shifted toward Kara.

  Talulah stepped closer to them. “You said Rose is gone,” she said with a frown. “What does that mean?” She cast a worried look at Kara. “Where is she?”

  Kara stared back at Talulah, her gaze icier than ever. “I don’t know,” she lied. Darkness’s invitation flashed in her mind—a building close to the army base.

  Vague. But plenty of information for Kara.

  “How do you not know?” Talulah said. She turned to Princess Myrinne. “You might be a princess, but we are the Alliance. Maybe you do govern a kingdom of ancient vampires—as strange as that is—but we lead all of the other vampires in this world. We defeated their army, traveled here in dangerous storms, narrowly avoided death multiple times, when tornadoes and hurricanes just…changed paths. Now that we’re here, we want to know what is going on. Where is Rose Foster?”

  “The storms changed paths,” Princess Myrinne asked, “to protect you?”

  Kara glanced at the princess. She remembered what Darkness told her—they’d planned to bomb you, but I destroyed their weapons. She could’ve told the princess, helped her come to a conclusion, but Kara didn’t trust her. Not even a little bit.

  “I…don’t know,” Talulah said with a baffled frown, “why it happened.”

  “Of course not,” Princess Myrinne said, still lost in thought, “but it did?”

  “It did seem to happen, just in time,” another vampire said, “every time.”

  “Darkness is protecting us,” Princess Myrinne murmured to herself. “It’s not the first time she’s saved people. But why do it hours before the apocalypse?”

  “Wait, what?” one of the vampire commanders said. “What apocalypse?”

  Aaron had returned to his feet, while Ligeia was distracted with Kara, but he’d kept his distance. Until that moment. “So, the stories were true?” he asked.

  Everyone in the room looked his way, puzzled by his sudden question.

  “What stories,” Princess Myrinne said with a smug smile, “Son of Lilith?”

  Aaron’s lip curled in disgust. “Don’t call me that,” he told her. “I haven’t lived in her shadow in a very long time. I don’t live in anyone’s shadow anymore.”

  “Or so you like to think,” Princess Myrinne muttered under her breath.

  Any other time, Kara would’ve been amused by the way the princess got under Aaron’s skin. But she wasn’t capable of an emotion like that right now. Not when all she could think about was Rose. Not when all she could feel was sadness.

  And anger. Plenty of anger.

  “She did mention Skotalia,” Aaron said.

  The other vampire commanders stared at him in shock. They’d known, of course, that someone had turned Aaron. Vampires didn’t just happen. But part of what made Aaron so intimidating was the image he’d created of himself—a larger-than-life persona, the impression of a vampire who was never inferior, never at a disadvantage. Hearing Aaron speak of a vampire who’d been more powerful than him, more famous than him—hearing Aaron speak of a time when he wasn’t the oldest vampire, maybe wasn’t a vampire at all—shattered the façade he’d created.

  “She didn’t tell me it still existed, though,” he said bitterly. “If she’d told me that, we wouldn’t be having this conversation right now.” His eyes narrowed.

  The princess rolled her eyes. “Is he really this arrogant?” she asked Kara.

  “I killed plenty of vampires thousands of years older than me,” he said.

  “Because you’re a good manipulator,” Kara reminded him, “but Princess Myrinne is, too.” She glared at the princess. “She’s more of a snake than I am.”

  Princess Myrinne blinked at that insult. Accepting Kara’s anger for what it was, she returned her attention to Aaron. “What did she tell you of my people?”

  “She told me about the red-eyed vampire,” Aaron said, “who would end the world.” A few of the leaders gasped. “When I saw Rose’s eyes, I wondered…”

  Princess Myrinne let out a short, bitter laugh. “No,” she said, shaking her head. “The legends that were inspired by our culture called her a vampire. If Lilith told you our stories, she didn’t call the Eklektos a vampire. She called her a…”

  “Goddess,” Aaron finished.

  Princess Myrinne smiled. “Exactly.”

  Kara glared at Aaron. “You knew this, and you didn’t tell me?”

  “I didn’t know,” Aaron scoffed. “I wondered.” He rolled his eyes. “You think I actually believed that Rose was a goddess? She’s pathetic excuse for one.”

  Kara nearly hurled herself at him, but Princess Myrinne grabbed her arm.

  “I’m not letting you get yourself killed,” the princess said, “but if you can wait just a few hours…punishing people for blasphemy is an old hobby of mine.”

  Kara lifted an eyebrow. “As long he gets his ass kicked, I’m happy.”

  “He will,” Princess Myrinne assured her. “But…after the meeting.”

  Aaron’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Excuse me?”

  “What exactly are you saying?” Talulah interrupted. Her dark brown eyes were wide and narrowed, as she glanced from the princess to Aaron. “We’re all a little confused right now.” She gestured toward the other vampires, who nodded. “You’re talking about gods and apocalypses, and no one has said where Rose is!”

  “I told you,” Zosime reminded the panicked vampire. “Rose is gone.”

  “That’s not an answer!” Talulah said in disbelief. “Where has she gone?”

  In a sad, tired voice, Kara said, “Rose has changed. She’s Darkness now.”

  “Changed is the wrong word,” Princess Myrinne said. “Fractured would be a more accurate translation, I think. A fragment of Rose took control of her.”

  “A fragment?” Talulah said incredulously. “What does that even mean?”

  “Rose Foster is what my people call the Eklektos,” Princess Myrinne told her. “She was chosen to end the world. She’s the physical vessel of our goddess.”

  “She was chosen,” Talulah repeated, her eyes wide, “to end the world?”

  “I’m more hung up on the goddess part,” Benedict said under his breath.

  “Rose is made up of Light and Darkness. They’re part of her,” Princess Myrinne said. “It’s complicated. I was a high priestess. I studied it for thousands of years. Our main goddess is a fractured one. A duality, essentially. She is Creator and Destroyer, the End and the Beginning. And right now, she’s the Destroyer.”

  “You’re telling me that Rose,” Talulah assumed, “will destroy the world.”

  “I’m telling you,” Princess Myrinne sighed, “tha
t one side of Rose will.”

  “How is that possible?” one of the other vampire leaders said.

  “And what about the other side of her?” Talulah asked.

  Zosime breathed out a sad sigh. “The other side of her is gone.”

  Kara stared at the floor, her chest aching. “Part of her died with Kallias.”

  Aaron blinked in surprise. His dark brows furrowed. “Kallias is dead?”

  “Not only Kallias,” Princess Myrinne clarified, “but everyone she’s lost.”

  “Each time she lost someone,” Zosime agreed, “part of her fractured.”

  “She was depressed,” Princess Myrinne said. “Erastos knew that.”

  Aaron’s dark gaze shifted toward her. “Who is Erastos?”

  “Another Skotalian,” Princess Myrinne said. “I thought he was dead.”

  “Well, you sound like a very knowledgeable leader,” Aaron sneered.

  Princess Myrinne’s pale blue eyes narrowed at that. “He fooled me, yes,” she admitted, “but I’m trying to make up for my mistakes—if at all possible.”

  Kara’s light blue gaze shifted toward her.

  “This…Erastos,” Aaron said, frowning. “He killed a telepath?”

  Erik, who’d been silent the entire time, mumbled a soft: “Yes.”

  “I won’t even pretend to understand what’s going on,” Talulah said, “but if Rose means to destroy the world, then we have no choice. We have to kill her.”

  Kara growled at her. “It’s been a long time since I stabbed you,” she told Talulah, her icy blue eyes narrowing. “I’d stop while I was ahead, if I were you.”

  Talulah sighed, “Kara, if she’s gone evil, this is no different than Alana.”

  “It’s very different,” Kara told her. “Everything about Rose is different.”

  “Darkness isn’t evil,” Princess Myrinne argued. “Destruction is what she is. She’s a force of nature. She’s not good or evil. She just is. And from what I’ve seen of Rose, she’s not evil, either. She’s just trying to save us from a worse fate.”

  “A worse fate?” Talulah said, both eyebrows raised. “As in life?”

  “No,” Princess Myrinne said. “There were two prophecies. Both of them say the world ends now. The only question was whether it ended in war—or her.”

  “Darkness’s destruction is merciful, in comparison to war,” Zosime told them. “Believe me. I’ve seen visions of all of it, and the war will be much worse.”

  Talulah’s gaze shifted toward Zosime. “You have precognitive abilities?”

  “Yes,” she said. “I see what will happen, rather than what’s supposed to.”

  “And I know what’s supposed to happen,” Princess Myrinne added.

  Talulah spread out her hands. “And they’re both…bad?”

  “If you think an apocalypse is bad,” Princess Myrinne said, “then yes.”

  “Well, considering you let everyone believe a lie for thousands of years,” Talulah said curtly, “and only invaded our lives recently, I don’t trust you.” A few people voiced their agreement. “And I don’t care whether it’s less painful for the world to end by Rose’s hands. I’ll still fight to survive—even if it means war.”

  “You’ll still die,” Zosime told her. “You’ll just die in the war, instead.”

  “But at least, I’ll die fighting,” Talulah said. Her dark gaze shifted toward Kara. “You, of all people, should agree. But you don’t—why? Because it’s Rose?”

  Kara flashed that bitter smile again. “You know not to depend on me.”

  “But we need you,” Aaron pointed out. “You’re the best assassin I know, and on top of that, Rose trusts you. You’re the one person who could kill her.”

  Though he hadn’t spoken to Kara, since the night before, Erik joined her now—standing at her side, against the leaders. “You can’t ask her to kill Rose!”

  “What part of goddess do you people not understand?” the princess said.

  “Why not?” Aaron asked, lifting an eyebrow. “I asked you to kill Alana.”

  “Rose isn’t Alana,” Erik said. “Rose cares about people. She loves them.”

  “One minor difference,” Aaron admitted. “They’re both still psychotic.”

  Kara stepped forward, but Erik and the princess grabbed her, this time.

  “I’ve lost too many friends already,” Erik told her. “I can’t lose you, too.”

  Kara’s icy gaze shifted toward him. She sighed—subdued, for a moment.

  “The fact that you’re arrogant enough to think that anyone can kill her is comical,” Princess Myrinne told Aaron. “Darkness is a goddess. The Goddess.”

  “I don’t care what she is,” Aaron replied. “If there’s any part of her that’s still Rose, she trusts Kara, and Kara can use that against her. It’s what Kara does.”

  “It’s true,” Talulah agreed. “Kara can fool anyone into trusting her. She’s conniving and clever. If anyone can save us from Rose, it’s her. All she has to do is do what she does best. Betrayal.” She glanced at Kara. “You could save us all.”

  “Take your pleas for heroism elsewhere, Talulah,” Kara snarled. “They’re wasted on me.” Her icy blue eyes narrowed. “I swore fealty to her. I loved her.”

  Talulah’s dark eyes softened with sympathy. “I know that, and I’m sorry. But be reasonable. Which is more important? One woman? Or the entire world?”

  This time, Kara moved too fast for them to stop her. She moved so fast, in fact, that even Aaron took a step back. She’d picked up her battle-axe, and she looked more than ready to use it, as she closed in on Talulah. “Rose was the hero. Not me,” she snarled. “I would kill every single one of you for her.” Kara stepped closer, lowering her voice to a growl, “And I wouldn’t feel even a hint of remorse.”

  “She’s upset,” Erik reminded the leaders. “She’s not thinking clearly.”

  Aaron’s dark eyes narrowed. “Well, she better start thinking clearly, or…”

  “Or what?” Kara snarled, turning on him now. “You’re going to kill me?” She stepped closer to him. “What are you waiting for, then? Now’s your chance.”

  “Don’t even think about it,” Princess Myrinne said—before Aaron could take Kara up on the challenge. The princess stood behind Kara, so Kara couldn’t see her. She could only hear her. But she sounded positively feral. Nothing like the polite, reserved princess that Kara had grown familiar with. Aaron froze, his dark eyes shifting toward the princess. Then, he took a step back—clearly not willing to test the patience of a ten-thousand-year-old princess. Princess Myrinne stepped closer to Kara, placing her hand on Kara’s shoulder. Kara spun around, grasping the princess’s wrist and twisting it away from her—all in one blur of movement.

  “Don’t touch me,” Kara snapped, “and I don’t need your fucking help.”

  The princess barely even reacted to Kara’s hostility. “We need to talk.”

  Kara stepped closer to her. “I’d rather slice open my own stomach,” she said. A slow smile spread across her face. “Or yours. Oh, yes. Definitely yours.”

  The princess sighed at the threat. “This is something you’ll want to hear.”

  “Doubt it,” Kara said irritably. “I don’t care to hear anything anymore.”

  “It’s about Rose,” the princess said. “Trust me. You’ll want to hear this.”

  Kara hated that small flicker of hope that sparked in her chest when the princess said Rose’s name. She hated it because she knew that it’d hurt that much worse later—when the flicker died out, yet again. “I don’t trust you,” Kara stated.

  “I don’t trust you, either,” Princess Myrinne agreed. “Let’s talk, anyway.”

  Kara nodded. She waved her hand at the door. “If you want privacy?”

  “Why should we let you keep secrets from us?” Aaron called after them.

  The princess rolled her eyes. “No one asked you to let us do anything.”

  —

 
; Kara carried the battle-axe with her, as she led the way up the steep steps. She heard the soft shush of Princess Myrinne’s cloak, as she followed. Kara heard it because she was listening for it, counting the seconds between each step, always prepared for an attack. Because Kara knew Princess Myrinne was the type to stab someone in the back. She and the princess were alike in that way. The doors that led out of the basement rattled violently against their hinges, and the winds’ howls grew deafeningly loud. She spun around, as the princess stopped on a lower step.

  The princess sighed, “You’re good at alienating your friends, aren’t you?”

  Kara scoffed at that and started to brush past her, returning to the room.

  “I only noticed it because I do it, too,” Princess Myrinne said, before she could leave. She waited, as Kara turned back toward her. “I have few friends left.”

  Kara lifted an eyebrow. “Not really in the mood for bonding, princess.”

  “I’m sorry,” the princess said, shrugging her shoulders, “for everything.”

  “I don’t want you to apologize,” Kara told her. “Nor do I accept it.”

  Princess Myrinne nodded at that. “You’re right. I shouldn’t apologize.”

  With a curt nod, Kara started to walk away.

  “It was your fault that I misjudged you, after all,” Princess Myrinne said.

  Kara froze. She turned, a hint of intrigue in her icy blue eyes. “How so?”

  “Your façade is brilliant,” Princess Myrinne told her. “A combination of half-lies and partial truths that most people don’t look past. Rose saw past it, but no one else does. You’re a liar and a cheat, with no morals, no sense of loyalty…”

  “That’s exactly what I am,” Kara said. “What else could I possibly be?”

  “I don’t know,” Princess Myrinne admitted. “I’m only just now realizing there’s more.” Her gaze shifted away. “But Rose knew, and she loved you for it.”

  Kara stepped closer. “If you’re going to talk about her in past tense, don’t use her name,” she growled. “Call her the Eklektos or whatever it is your religion calls her.” She scoffed in disgust. “Don’t get personal now—when it’s too late.”