Kara glanced down at her hands. “No one has. For a very long time.”
“Are you admitting it, then?” Elise asked. “You feel something for her?”
“I’m admitting nothing,” Kara said firmly. She breathed out a long sigh. “But…even if I were, even if I do have feelings for her, even if my feelings are stronger than I want to admit,” she paused, her jaw tightening, “she has Kallias.”
Elise leaned forward, tilting her head to catch Kara’s gaze. “Don’t tell me the fearless Viking is afraid of a little competition,” she said with a playful smile.
Kara couldn’t help but smile at that. “I love competition…if I can win.”
Elise frowned, surprised by Kara’s sudden lack of confidence. “If?”
“She’s not going to risk her relationship with Kallias for me,” Kara said.
“You think he’d leave her for spending one night with you?” Elise asked.
Kara turned to look at Elise, emotion flickering in her intense, blue eyes.
Elise watched her, puzzled by her silence. “Did I say something wrong?”
Kara looked away, swallowing uneasily. Instead of answering Elise, she stood and walked over to the nightstand. She opened a bottle of whiskey and filled a short, square-shaped glass with the amber-colored liquid. Then, she turned and carried the glass of whiskey to Elise, her boots thudding against the marble floor, her soft footsteps filling the deafening silence that stretched between them.
She didn’t even have to ask…because Elise was already lifting her wrist to her mouth and sinking her fangs into her own wrist. Kara watched as Elise let a few drops of her blood fall into the glass of whiskey, the red drops swirling into nothingness. “Thanks,” Kara mumbled tiredly as she lifted the glass to her lips.
Elise licked her wrist, healing the small bite wound, as she watched Kara drain the entire glass of whiskey in one, continuous gulp. She waited patiently.
When Kara finished drinking, she responded, finally, “You’re under the impression that one night with her would be enough for me, and…it wouldn’t.”
Elise blinked slowly, her blue-gray eyes wide. “Wait. Are you saying that you want a relationship with her?” she asked. “But you never do relationships!”
Kara scowled. “I never said anything about a relationship,” she muttered, waving her glass-wielding hand. “I just said that…” she trailed off. With a sad, frustrated sigh, she returned the glass to the nightstand and sat down on the bed. She hunched her shoulders forward in defeat. “Even if I did want a relationship, it wouldn’t matter. Rose is with Kallias. The guy has a virtually spotless record. He’s a Philosopher turned vampire. He doesn’t lie and kill for a living. He’s not a spy. He’s not an assassin. He’s just a good, normal guy. He’s the opposite of me.”
Elise watched her speechlessly. She’d never seen Kara like this. Kara was always confident. Never insecure. “But your bad-girl thing is extremely sexy.”
Kara smiled a little at that. “Sexy, perhaps. But not relationship-material.”
“Then, you do want a relationship,” Elise said with a delighted smile.
Kara stared thoughtfully at her hands. The mixture of blood and alcohol buzzed warmly in her blood, numbing some of her pain and fear. “Relationships never end well. They either end in death, heartbreak, or insanity. Or all three.”
Elise lifted her eyebrows. “Now, it’s Alana that’s gotten into your head.”
“Alana gets into everyone’s head,” Kara sighed, “and she never leaves.”
Something Worse
Rose spun around in a circle, her brows furrowing, as she tried to figure out where she was. Candlelight danced across the white, stone-like walls. With a curious frown, she stepped toward the closest wall, her footsteps echoing loudly on the hard, white floor. She reached out and ran her fingers over the wall’s rough, stone-like texture. It felt a little like marble, but it seemed much rougher and much duller than the marble she’d seen in more recently-built buildings. She felt so lost and confused as she wandered through the unfamiliar building, trying to identify something—anything—in the building that looked familiar, trying to remember how she’d gotten there. She headed for what appeared to be the brightest area in the dark building—a small platform. Some kind of altar, perhaps? Hundreds of misshapen candles surrounded the altar, wax pooling in the floor around them, their yellowish light dancing over the tall, ornate statue that set atop the altar.
Rose stopped in front of the statue, her brows furrowing, as she peered up at it. It dwarfed her by several feet. She thought it looked ten feet tall, at least.
Now, Rose had been to Greece a few times for study trips. She’d nearly finished a degree in Ancient History. She would’ve recognized a statue of a Greek goddess or a Roman goddess easily. She even knew the pantheons of many other cultures, as well. Babylonian, Egyptian, Norse, etc. But she did not recognize this statue. This gorgeous, ornate statue of a woman with two halves—light and dark.
The statue appeared to have been built of two different materials—a dark stone on the right side, and a crystal-like stone on the left side. The woman—on both sides of the statue—looked tall and curvy. Her long, thick hair fell around her shoulders, hiding her mostly bare breasts. On one side of the statue, she wore a thin, light-colored garment that barely hid any part of her body, including her more intimate areas. On the darker side of the statue, the woman wore a thick cloak that covered her from her neck to her ankles, with a hood pulled up over her long, thick hair. As the candlelight hit the lighter side of the statue, it sparkled like diamonds, shining like a source of light. The other side of the statue, however, remained dark, as if its shadows could not be touched by light. She was sure that the statue depicted one woman, and yet, the two sides were drastically different.
“Where am I?” Rose sighed, her voice echoing through the building.
“You tell me,” said a soothing, seductive voice. “It’s your memory.”
Rose straightened, a chill shooting down her spine. She recognized that voice. Everything inside of her recognized that voice, and everything inside of her was alarmed by the sound of it. She spun around, and her mouth fell open.
“Hello, darling,” Alana said, that familiar, seductive smile curling at her lips. Alana leaned against one of the building’s columns, watching Rose with those familiar, dark blue eyes. Her fair skin and pale blonde hair seemed to glow in the flickering candlelight. She wore a thin, lavender dress that was torn in a few places and covered in dark bloodstains—the same dress she was wearing when she died.
Rose took a step back, her pulse skyrocketing, as a cold wave of fear and dread washed over her. “No. You can’t be real. You’re dead. I watched you die.”
“You did, didn’t you?” Alana murmured, tilting her head to the side, her pale blonde hair falling over her shoulder. “You watched me die. You let me die.”
“No,” Rose breathed, shaking her head. “No, I tried to save you. I tried.”
“But you failed, didn’t you?” Alana said. “You always fail, Rose, and you always will. I’m just one of many corpses that will be left behind by the Eklektos.”
Rose’s vision blurred with tears. “I wanted to save you,” she whispered.
“I couldn’t be saved,” Alana said with a smile, “and neither can you.”
“Am I hallucinating?” Rose asked breathlessly. “Am I losing my mind?”
Alana laughed, “Well, of course you’re losing your mind. Who wouldn’t lose their mind when there are so many people living in it? Three’s a crowd, love.”
“What? What is that supposed to mean?” Rose sputtered. “What people?”
“Ah, you’re right,” Alana said thoughtfully, twirling a strand of her pale blonde hair around her finger. “I wouldn’t want to insult them. They’re not really people, are they? They’re more than that. They’re basically gods, aren’t they?”
“What the heck are you talking about?” Rose said. “Who are…they
?”
Alana giggled, “The funny part is…you know I’m dead, and you’re still asking me questions.” She stepped away from the column and moved toward Rose, her heels clacking against the floor. “You know that I’m not really here.”
“What are you?” Rose asked, her voice shaking. “A hallucination?”
“Not quite,” Alana said. “You’re asleep. So, technically, this is a dream.”
Rose nodded, a little relieved to know that she wasn’t hallucinating. “So, this is just a normal dream, then. Or a normal nightmare, I guess. It’s not…you.”
Alana smiled. “Are you sure about that?” she murmured, stepping closer.
“Yes,” Rose said nervously. “It can’t be you. Erik killed you. I saw it.”
Alana reached out and tucked a lock of wavy, red hair behind Rose’s ear. “Tell me, my darling,” she purred in that soft, lilting voice of hers. “Has Kallias ever told you why it’s dangerous to delve too deep into someone else’s mind?”
Rose nodded weakly. “Because…the deeper you go into someone else’s mind, the more you’re not in your own mind. It leaves you vulnerable to attack.”
“Right,” Alana said, her smile deepening. “Let’s focus on that ‘the more you’re not in your own mind’ part. You and I still had a psychic connection when Erik killed me. That’s how you saw him kill me. Because I let you. I was in your mind.”
Rose’s heart began to hammer inside her chest. “What are you saying?”
Alana leaned in even closer than before, and as Alana’s warm breath fell against her face, Rose realized, with a shiver of fear, that she could smell her own blood on Alana’s breath. “I’m saying,” she murmured, her voice low, “that maybe some of me is still here. In your mind. Maybe, when I died, I became part of you.”
“That’s…not possible,” Rose stammered, even though she had no idea whether it was possible or not. “This is just a nightmare. You’re just a nightmare!”
“Believe what you will,” Alana said, straightening. She peered past Rose, up at the strange statue. “It’s funny. You know so much about everything else, but you know so little about your own mind. You know so little about your fate.”
“My fate?” Rose repeated. “I…I don’t believe in fate. I believe in free will. We have choices. We decide our own fate with each choice that we make.”
“Do we?” Alana asked. “Because it seems to me that a lot has happened to you that you didn’t choose. You have been suffering since you were born.”
“Not always,” Rose argued. “Good things have happened to me, too.”
“Like what?” Alana sneered. A cruel smile twisted at her soft, beautiful features. “I know what happened to you. I know about the abuse, the starvation, the times you thought you’d die, the times you wanted to die. I know about the times you were hurt, the times you were violated. Everyone hurts you. Everyone.”
“No,” Rose insisted. “Kallias doesn’t. Kara doesn’t. My friends don’t.”
“Don’t they?” Alana challenged. “Didn’t it hurt when Audrey called you a monster? Doesn’t it hurt to know that Owen is part of the Assassins of Light?”
“I don’t think he is,” Rose mumbled. “Jared might be, but Owen isn’t.”
“That’s what you hope, but is it true?” Alana said. “You always believe the best about people, Rose, but you’re not always right. You can’t save everyone.”
“I can try,” Rose said stubbornly. “I will always try.”
“And you will always fail,” Alana said, “just like you failed to save me.”
“You’re dead, and you’re still messing with my mind,” Rose complained.
“You don’t need me to mess with your mind, darling. You do that all by yourself,” Alana laughed. “People like you and me—we only pretend to be sane.”
“You were pretending to be sane?” Rose laughed. “Wow. If that was you pretending to be sane, I’d hate to see what you’re like when you’re not pretending.”
“Go ahead. Keep hiding behind your jokes,” Alana sneered. “You’re not fooling anyone. We all know you’re screwed up. We all know you’re falling apart.”
“You really don’t have room to talk,” Rose muttered. “I mean, you kind of tried to destroy the world because a bunch of people that are dead hurt you.”
“The world hurt me,” Alana corrected. “The world is cruel and wrong.”
“Yes,” Rose agreed. “But there are good people in it, too, and they didn’t deserve to die because of something that happened fourteen hundred years ago.”
“Listen to you,” Alana laughed. “I’m dead, and you’re still trying to save me. Do you realize how insane that is? You’re losing your mind, Rose. It’s only a matter of time before you totally fall apart. The right person dies, and…boom.”
“Boom?” Rose repeated sassily. “What? Is my head going to explode?”
“No,” Alana said with a dark, cruel smile. “But the world will.”
Rose frowned. “What does that mean?” she mumbled. Then, she shook her head in frustration. “This is just a dream. Why am I trying to make sense of it?” But then, she glanced over her shoulder, at the unfamiliar statue, and she answered her own question, “I’m trying to make sense of it because it doesn’t make sense. Dreams are supposed to involve memories, torn apart and placed together into stories, but I don’t remember this place. I’ve never seen it before.”
“Well, some part of you has,” Alana told her. “Somewhere inside of you is something that knows this place very well. Don’t you feel its familiarity?”
“Yes,” Rose realized. “It feels like I’ve been here. It feels like…home.”
“What do you think that means, Rose?” Alana said. “Think about it.”
“I don’t know,” Rose mumbled. “I’m so confused.” Her chest felt tight, and her mind felt fuzzy and dazed. “I want to wake up. I need to get out of here.”
Alana stepped closer, until Rose felt the heat of Alana’s body against her side, until she felt the warmth of Alana’s breath on her ear. “What are you so afraid of, Rose?” she whispered. “What terrible truth is inside your mind?”
Rose ran her hands through her hair, pulling at the roots, causing herself pain, in hopes that it’d wake her up. She screamed in frustration, “Let me out!”
Alana tilted her head back, laughing, “Look at you! So crazy! So afraid!”
Rose glanced at Alana, tears pricking at her eyes. “How do I wake up?”
“Why would I help you,” Alana asked, smiling, “when you let me die?”
Rose stepped closer to her. “Because you knew,” she said, her voice full of pain. “In that last moment, you looked at me, and you knew that I understood.”
Alana’s smile faded, and her brows creased with sympathy. “Oh, Rose,” she said, tilting her head to the side, her pale blonde hair falling over her shoulder. “Believe it or not, I’m trying to help you.” She closed the tiny bit of space that remained between them, until their bodies nearly touched, until her breath tickled Rose’s face. And then, she whispered, as if she were afraid of anyone else hearing, “I’m trying to make you see her. You can’t keep burying your Darkness. She feeds and grows stronger. And one day, if you can’t stop her, she’ll devour the world.”
The words were whispered so softly between them that Rose felt them more than she heard them. “I don’t understand,” Rose said. “Devour the world?”
“You’re a monster, Rose,” Alana hissed, leaning closer, “just like I was.”
“No. No. I won’t be like you,” Rose breathed. “I refuse to be like you.”
“Oh, you’ll fight. I’m sure of that,” Alana murmured. “But will you win?”
Rose stepped back. “Just let me wake up. How do I wake up?” she said, glancing around the temple, looking for a way out. “There must be a door, right?”
Alana laughed, “You want to leave a nightmare through a door? How pragmatic of you.” She stepped past Rose and app
roached the statue. She picked up one of the hot, melted candles, holding it casually, as if the wax didn’t hurt at all. Then, she turned and smiled at Rose. “Personally, I prefer fire. It’s prettier.”
She blew softly on the candle, and the flame, instead of flickering out, shot outward like dragon fire. Rose gasped and jumped back, but it was too late.
Rose screamed out in agony as the hot, violent flames consumed her.
—
Rose awoke with a scream.
She jerked upright in her seat, her heart pounding, cold sweat glistening on her skin. She blinked in the darkness, frowning at the unfamiliar surroundings.
Kallias slept beside her, still, reclined back in his seat, completely unaware of her distress, and Erik slept in one of the seats across from them, tilting a little to the side, as if he were going to fall over sideways at any moment. It didn’t fully sink in that they were still on the plane until she noticed the covered windows.
She settled back in her seat, breathing heavily, as her pulse finally began to slow. She wondered if she’d screamed out loud, if Erik and Kallias had simply slept through it, or if that had been in her head, too. Her nightmares became more vivid each time she slept, and each time she awoke, it became harder and harder to separate reality from the dreams, to remind herself that it wasn’t real.
Or was it?
That fear whispered softly in her mind. The fear that her dreams meant something, that the Darkness she encountered in her mind was real. And waiting.
Rose straightened again, covering her chest with her hand, as she felt a sudden rush of adrenaline. She felt as if her heart were racing again, and yet, her pulse felt steady against her hand. Anger burned in her veins, and fear twisted at her chest. And yet…it wasn’t her own. She realized that, suddenly, and that led to an even worse realization: if Rose wasn’t the one in danger, then…it was Kara.
She reached into her pocket and pulled out her phone, quickly switching it off of airplane mode. The plane felt still, so she assumed they’d already landed.
The Assassins of Light Page 5