The Reign of Darkness

by Britney Jackson

  Kara flashed an wide, taunting grin at Rose. “Don’t be a sore loser, sexy,” she teased. “Just admit that I’m right and that I successfully wooed a goddess.”

  Rose rolled her eyes, unable to hide her smile. “You’re terrible.”

  Kara’s smile deepened, and she started to say something else. But then, she noticed a strange sound. She looked up, slowly, and her face paled in horror.

  The next thing happened so fast that Kara didn’t even realize what was happening, until afterward. The energy seemed to change, much like it had when Rose had spoken earlier—an electric charge in the air, wind swirling around them.

  An unseen force threw Kara back into the building—so forceful that she slid across the floor and hit the opposite wall with a painful crash. And then, she saw the missile. It stopped, somehow, but it didn’t explode. A flash of light seemed to surround the building, all of the sudden, and the missile hovered outside of it.

  Kara raised up on her knees—despite the pain pounding throughout her body. And she watched in awe, as shadows poured from Rose’s hand—much like they had for Darkness—and swirled upward, encircling the missile that Rose had somehow, impossibly stopped from exploding. When the shadows dissipated, there was nothing left. Only a dark, star-speckled sky and a shimmery barrier of light.

  Kara jumped to her feet and ran toward Rose, racing across the building.

  Rose spun around, meeting Kara at the door. She reached out, touching the reddened skin of Kara’s arms. “Kara, are you okay? I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

  Kara brushed Rose’s hands away. “Forget that,” she laughed, her ice-blue eyes wide. She glanced up at the navy-blue, star-speckled sky, before shifting her stunned gaze back toward Rose. She smiled hesitantly. “What did you just do?’

  “There was a missile,” Rose said with a shrug. “It would have hurt you.”

  “Mm-hmm?” Kara lifted her eyebrows, wordlessly urging Rose to finish.

  “I created a barrier,” Rose explained. “Then, I destroyed the missile.”

  Kara stepped closer, causing the scent of violets, wet leather, and rain to fill Rose’s senses. “Created. Destroyed,” Kara repeated, her smile widening. She threaded her fingers with Rose’s—Rose’s soft skin against hers. “Which means?”

  “Which means,” Rose admitted, “I can control my power now. All of it.”

  An excited smile spread across Kara’s face. “And do you know what that means, Rose Foster?” she murmured, her intense, blue eyes glowing with pride.

  “What does it mean,” Rose said with a sassy smile, “Kara Unnarsdóttir?”

  Kara grinned at her teasing. “It means…we’re going to win this war.”

  A shadow of hesitation passed over Rose’s face. “Don’t underestimate them. They still have nuclear weapons, armies, the Assassins of Light, Erastos…”

  A spark of red fire flashed in her eyes when she spoke Erastos’s name.

  Kara raised an eyebrow, her smile deepening. “But they don’t have you.”

  —

  Kara strolled down the stone steps, toward the entrance of the shelter—where the others waited. When she no longer heard Rose’s footsteps behind her, she stopped. She turned on her heels, glancing up at Rose, who hesitated near the top of the stairs. Kara returned to the top of the steps and took Rose by the hand.

  “Don’t do that to yourself, love,” Kara said, as she led the way down the steps. “I can feel your shame and guilt, but you have nothing to be ashamed of.”

  “I almost destroyed the world,” Rose said uneasily, “all because I lost…” Grief expanded in her throat, choking her, leaving her unable to speak his name.

  “No, you just stopped fighting for a while,” Kara argued, “and you didn’t just lose him. You lost a lot of people—in a very short amount of time. You were manipulated, betrayed… You went through more than anyone could handle—all with mental illness worsening it all.” She smiled at Rose. “You should be proud.”

  Rose’s brows furrowed. “I should be proud of nearly ending the world?”

  “No, you should be proud of getting back up,” Kara told her. “No matter what, you never stay down for long. That’s a sign of strength, love. And courage.”

  Rose blushed. “I don’t think everyone else is going to see it that way.”

  “Who cares?” Kara spat out, a defiant flash in her light blue eyes. A smile curled at the corners of her lips, as she let go of Rose’s hand. Rose instantly missed the warmth of Kara’s touch—but not for long. Because Kara then circled around her, and she felt the warmth of Kara’s body against her back. “You’re a goddess, Rose. You don’t need anyone’s approval. They need yours.” She looped her arms around Rose’s waist and pulled Rose back against her. “You are going to walk in there with your head held high, and if anyone crosses you,” she paused, pressing her mouth to Rose’s ear, before whispering, “you’re going to make them bow.”

  Rose laughed nervously, as her stomach did clumsy cartwheels over the sound of Kara’s voice. “I don’t want anyone to bow,” she told Kara. “I just want them to maybe not hate me?” She winced. “And not think I’m absolutely insane?”

  Kara rested her face against Rose’s shoulder, her fingers tracing the fabric that covered Rose’s stomach. “You’re not insane. You just forgot who you were for a moment,” she told Rose. “Darkness isn’t insane, either. It’s just her nature.”

  “I am Darkness,” Rose said. “If she’s the Destroyer, so am I.” Her brows furrowed. “God, that’s confusing. How am I supposed to explain that to people?”

  Kara grinned and pressed her lips against Rose’s ear. “You mean goddess.”

  Rose rolled her eyes. “I was monotheistic for twenty-four years, okay?”

  “Which makes this so much more fun,” Kara teased. She leaned in, after a moment, and said, “Now, take a deep breath, find that confidence that you had before we left, and then, we’ll go in. And if anyone says anything, I’ll stab them.”

  Rose was halfway through her deep breath, when she heard that last part. “Uh, no. No stabbing,” she mumbled. She frowned worriedly at Kara’s silence.

  Kara let go of her and circled around to open the door. “Are you ready?”

  Rose lifted her eyebrows. “As long as we’re not stabbing anyone.”

  —

  Princess Myrinne met them at the door—almost as if she’d been waiting there, since the moment Kara left. Rose barely recognized her in such a disheveled state. Princess Myrinne’s pale blonde hair—which was normally bound in perfect braids and pinned close to her head—fell around her shoulders, now. And though it was still beautiful and elegant, her blue gown was torn and stained with blood.

  Blood that Rose recognized. “Why does that smell like Aaron’s blood?”

  Princess Myrinne didn’t respond. She was too busy staring at Rose, as if she’d just seen a ghost. “Rose?” she said breathlessly. “It’s actually you, isn’t it?”

  Rose smiled, pleasantly surprised. “Hey, you actually used my real name!”

  The princess stared at Rose for a while longer, as if she couldn’t believe her eyes, and then, she fell to the floor, practically lying prostrate at Rose’s feet.

  Rose rolled her eyes. “But we’re still doing the bowing thing, apparently.”

  “Please, forgive me, Goddess,” Princess Myrinne cried. “I shouldn’t have listened to my mother. I should’ve realized my uncle wasn’t dead. I made so many mistakes. I was so arrogant. I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but I ask it, anyway.”

  Rose blinked in shock, her brows twisting in confusion. “What the…”

  Kara leaned toward Rose. “Is it wrong, if this is turning me on a little?”

  Rose turned toward Kara, lifting her eyebrows in disbelief.

  Kara held her forefinger and thumb an inch apart and mouthed, “Little.”

  Rose just rolled her eyes and turned back toward the princess. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed several p
eople watching them, and she quickly knelt in front of the princess and helped her to her feet. “Okay, just…no bowing,” she whispered, anxiously glancing around the room, “and stop with the goddess talk.”

  Princess Myrinne shifted uncomfortably on her feet. “It’s just that I,” she paused, grimacing, “prayed to you for so long, and now that you remember it…”

  “Now that I remember it,” Rose said, “I still want you to call me Rose.”

  “As you wish, Goddess,” Princess Myrinne replied, without thinking. She offered Rose a sheepish smile and added, “I mean Rose.” Loose waves of white-blonde hair fell over her shoulders, as she dusted off her dress. “I really am sorry.”

  “Stop apologizing,” Rose sighed, shaking her head. “I don’t blame you.”

  “You should,” Princess Myrinne told her. “I shouldn’t have lied to you.”

  “I shouldn’t have, either,” Kara said softly, offering Rose a regretful look.

  “Guys,” Rose said, glancing back and forth between them, “I apparently just tried to destroy the world. I don’t think I deserve your apologies right now.”

  “The world is supposed to end,” Princess Myrinne said. “Darkness only intended to end it in a more merciful way. Mercy isn’t such a terrible thing, is it?”

  “I guess not,” Rose admitted. “I just hope everyone else sees it that way.”

  “I can’t guarantee that,” Princess Myrinne said. “What I can guarantee is that after what I did to the Son of Lilith, I don’t think he’ll give you any issues.”

  “Son of Lilith?” Rose said. She looked again at the bloodstains. “Aaron?”

  Kara tilted her head to the side, her light blue eyes sparkling. “Do share.”

  “Later,” Princess Myrinne told her. “I’m sure they’ve heard you by now.”

  “Before they come,” Rose said softly, “I’m sorry about your mother.”

  Tears glistened in Princess Myrinne’s pale blue eyes. “I appreciate that.”

  Kara glanced back and forth between them. “Did something happen?”

  Princess Myrinne nodded. “I received word a few weeks ago. She died.”

  “Shit,” Kara said. “I’m not sorry about what I said, but…if I’d known…”

  “I know,” the princess said. “You would’ve insulted me in other ways.”

  “Right,” Kara said. She slid her hands in her pockets. “How did she die?”

  “Stupidity or suicide. We’re not sure which,” Princess Myrinne said. “She left her cell during the day.” She looked away. “Burned to death in the sunlight.”

  “Fuck,” Kara breathed. She cleared her throat. “And are you…all right?”

  Rose and Princess Myrinne stared at Kara, eyebrows arched in disbelief.

  “What? I don’t hate her,” Kara said with a defensive shrug, “anymore.”

  The princess smiled. “I’m okay. And I don’t hate you anymore, either.”

  “Well, at least the apocalypse fixed something,” Rose said under her breath.

  Kara glanced at Rose. “How…did you know that? About her mother?”

  “I…remember it,” Rose said uneasily. “I remember stuff like that, now.”

  “She’s using her full power, now,” Princess Myrinne explained to Kara. “Death is one of Darkness’s realms of power. She knows everyone who has died.”

  “Hmm,” Kara said. She looked at Rose. “Where do you store all of this?”

  Rose frowned. “My…head?” she said—but she didn’t sound too sure.

  Princess Myrinne stepped closer. Her scent filled Rose’s senses. It was a tropical flower of some sort—probably some flowers that Zosime had given her. “Can I ask you something?” she asked softly. “Did she find any kind of…peace?”

  Rose nodded—the image instantly appearing in her mind. “Yeah. Death was…a release for her,” she said gently. “She’s reflected on her life. She’s sorry.”

  Then, the princess, for the first time ever, started to cry in front of them.

  Kara stared at them, amazed—and a little unnerved—by Rose’s power.

  Rose stepped forward and pulled the princess into her arms, hugging her tightly, as the princess cried on her shoulder. “I’m really sorry,” she whispered.

  Princess Myrinne stiffened, stunned by the embrace. Although she had a few close friends—Zosime and Ligeia, mainly—she’d never known anyone bold enough to just embrace her before. She had to admit, though—it was comforting.

  “Hey,” Zosime said, as she came out into the hall, “if you’re offering free affection, bring some here.” She held out her arms to Rose, wiggling her fingers.

  Rose and Princess Myrinne both laughed. When Princess Myrinne waved her on, Rose stepped back and headed down the steps to hug Zosime, as well.

  Which left Kara and Princess Myrinne alone.

  Kara waited until Princess Myrinne finished crying. Then, Kara tilted her head toward the door at the bottom of the steps, where she assumed Aaron was, and said, “Thank you. He would’ve tried to stop me, if you hadn’t stopped him.”

  Princess Myrinne wiped her eyes and nodded. “He needed to learn a little humility, anyway,” she said. When Kara lifted her eyebrows in question, Princess Myrinne just laughed. “He won’t be hurting my goddess or her warrior anymore.”

  “Impressive,” Kara said with a sly smirk. “You have your uses, after all.”

  “As do you,” Princess Myrinne told her. “You confronted a goddess and walked away unscathed.” She shrugged her thin shoulders. “I’m a little surprised.”

  Kara tugged down the collar of her leather jacket, revealing the bite that hadn’t fully healed yet. “Not totally unscathed,” she said with a mischievous smirk.

  Princess Myrinne scowled. “And just like that, my respect is gone again.”

  Kara chuckled. “Good. It was starting to get a bit weird.”

  That earned a small chuckle from the princess, as well. “Listen, I, uh, do have one request,” she said, her pale blue gaze shifting toward Rose. She returned her gaze to Kara. “I want to officiate your wedding—when you finally marry her.”

  Kara nearly dropped her weapon. “What?” she sputtered. “We’re not…”

  “Oh, come on,” Princess Myrinne said, rolling her eyes. “You don’t really have a problem with commitment. You’re a warrior—who swore an oath of fealty during the twenty-first century. You revere commitment. You only fear failure.”

  Kara straightened in surprise. “That doesn’t mean I want to get married.”

  “Perhaps not,” Princess Myrinne said, “but if you do, I want to officiate.”

  Kara snorted. “And if I say no?”

  “Do you know another high priestess?” Princess Myrinne said pointedly. She flashed a smug smile. “Let me rephrase. One that can actually tolerate you?”

  Kara laughed. As she started to walk away, she said, “I’ll let you know.”

  —

  “What do you see now?” Rose said. “Your visions—have they changed?”

  Zosime’s lips pulled to one side, as she thought about it. “I think so, yes,” she said, as images flashed through her mind. “Only one has changed, though.”

  “But it changed in a good way?” Rose asked. “The no-apocalypse way?”

  Zosime nodded. “I believe so, yes. It’s a long shot, though. I won’t lie.”

  “A long shot is better than no shot,” Rose sighed. She looked away, her stomach sinking with guilt. “You could’ve told me, you know? What I would do.”

  Zosime pulled out a small, white flower that she’d tucked into her mass of beautiful, black curls, and tucked it behind Rose’s ear. “It likes it in your hair,” she murmured—referring to the flower, Rose assumed. She flashed that strange, quirky smile of hers and said, “It wasn’t your fault, darling. You were manipulated by Erastos and everyone he used along the way. He controlled the events of your life. He set things up so that you would fall exactly when he wanted you to.” S
he rested her hands on her hips. “And I know you’re a goddess and all, but don’t tell the one who foresaw all of this what she should’ve done. I know what I’m doing.”

  Rose laughed, “Fair enough.” But then, her smile faded. “Did you know, though? About…” she trailed off, still unable to say it. Tears fell from her eyes.

  “Oh, darling,” Zosime sighed, her brows creasing with sympathetic pain. She ran her hands over her cloak, as if she were looking for pockets. “I should’ve brought more flowers. They’d help.” Her brown eyes shifted up to meet Rose’s tear-filled gaze. She sighed sadly, “There was no way to save him. Every possible future played out the same way. Even if I’d told you, if you’d avoided that place completely, he still would’ve died. I’m sorry, but it was best that you didn’t know.”

  Rose nodded quickly, tears spilling faster down her cheeks. She suddenly felt a pleasant sensation tingling along her skin—warning her of Kara’s closeness, and she wiped her hands across her face, trying to dry her tears before Kara saw them. But of course, she should’ve known there was no point. Kara would know.

  Kara came up behind Rose, slipping her arms around Rose’s waist and pulling her back, so that the softness of Kara’s breasts and the hardness of her muscles pressed against Rose’s back. She pressed her lips against Rose’s neck and sighed, causing Rose to shiver. Her intense, blue gaze shifted up toward Zosime, and she said—in a playful tone, “I know you’re not making my lover cry, Zosime.”

  Zosime gave a warm laugh. “And if I did? What would you do to me?”

  Kara shot a pointed look at the battle-axe she’d propped against the wall.

  Zosime followed her gaze, her eyebrows lifting at the playful threat. “Oh, no. Not an axe. The biggest weapon I have is a knife,” she sighed. She called back into the shelter, “Ligeia, can you protect me against a battle-axe, by any chance?”

  Ligeia stepped out into the hall, her brows furrowing. “Of course I can.”

  Zosime shrugged at Kara. “I don’t think I have anything to worry about.”

  Kara lifted an eyebrow at that. “Is that a challenge?”