Elise raised an eyebrow. “Oh? And what beliefs are those?”
“My belief in not embarrassing myself?” Rose offered.
Elise giggled, “Fine. I guess I’ll have to find someone else to dance with.”
Rose smiled. “I’m sure you’ll find plenty of willing dance partners,” she said. She glanced over her shoulder and sighed in relief as she found that Talulah was no longer watching her. “And I successfully evaded Talulah’s question. Yay.”
“Yay,” Elise replied companionably. She watched the crowd of dancing vampires, her blue-eyes sparkling with excitement as she spotted someone in the crowd. “Ooh, I think I’ll go steal Erik’s dance partner! Just to prove I can.”
Rose laughed. “Hey, before you go, have you seen Aaron recently?”
Elise frowned thoughtfully. “No. He must be inside, still. Why?”
Rose flashed a fake smile. “No reason,” she lied.
—
Aaron straightened when he heard the door open. He slammed the book closed, dust scattering into the air, and spun toward her. “How did you find me?”
Rose closed the door. “I tracked you by scent,” she said, as she stepped into the dark room. It took her a moment to realize that she’d just stepped into a library—several bookshelves separating her and Aaron. “I know your scent, still.”
Aaron leaned his hip against the desk, his palm still firmly planted on the cover of the book. “One of the many reasons I never let anyone feed from me.”
“Yeah,” Rose said. “Well, you wouldn’t be able to use me, if I’d died.”
He nodded, not the least bit ashamed of his dark motives for helping her. He’d never claimed to be anything other than evil, and he had no interest in acting as if he were. “I’m pleased to see that you’re finally learning to use your instincts.”
“Believe it or not, I’m a fast learner,” Rose said. “I always have been.”
“You think I’m unaware of your intelligence? It’s hard to miss,” Aaron said. “It doesn’t mean much. Being a fast learner just means you’re easy to train.”
She weaved her way through the bookshelves, walking toward him, her tennis shoes squeaking on the hardwood. Her eyes narrowed. “I’m not a dog.”
“No,” he said, “but you are some type of untamed beast, aren’t you?”
Rose stopped, just a few feet in front of him. “I’m not your enemy.”
“Who said you were?” Aaron scoffed. He took his hand off of the book, finally, and crossed his arms. “Talulah manipulated us. I get it. I’m not stupid.”
“I never said you were,” she said gently. “I just want you to know…”
“Did you think that would work?” Aaron growled. “That you could just waltz in here, tell me that you’re not my enemy, and then, I decide to let you live?”
Rose frowned. “You just said that you understood that it was Talulah.”
“Earlier today? Yes,” he said. “But your days are still numbered, Rose.”
Rose held up her hands. “Fine. Whatever. I’m sorry for disturbing you.”
Aaron narrowed his eyes at her sarcasm and stepped toward her, as she tried to turn and leave. He caught her by the arm and jerked her back toward him.
“Ouch,” she said, shooting a peeved glare at him. “You know, there’s an English word—it’s pronounced wait—that works wonders in situations like this.”
A cloud of anger passed over his face. “Just so you know, I don’t care if Talulah calls you our equal,” he snarled, “you’re not my equal. You never will be.”
Rose nodded slowly. “I agree,” she said, to his surprise. “Talulah calling me her equal changes nothing. Equal is just a word. It doesn’t change anything.”
He straightened, blinking in surprise. “Exactly. You’re still beneath me.”
“Now, I didn’t say that,” Rose said with a sassy smile. She tilted her head to the side, her long, red hair falling over her shoulder. “No one is equal because someone says they are. They’re equal because they’re a person, just like you.” Her eyes narrowed. “You’re not entitled to more respect because of your age, position, or because you killed a bunch of people. You’re a person, just like me, and maybe, if you stopped thinking that everyone else is beneath you and treated them with respect, as equals, then you’d earn your respect, instead of having to demand it.”
Aaron released her arm, suddenly, as if he’d been burned by her skin.
Rose straightened, wincing a little at the tenderness in her arm, and then, she turned to leave, once again. “I’ll let you get back to your book,” she muttered.
He turned back toward the table, his back to her, as if she weren’t even significant enough for his attention. And yet, he still didn’t let her leave. “You’re so important to other people, but you mean nothing to me. Do you know that?”
Rose lifted her eyebrows at him. “And yet, you feel the need to tell me.”
Aaron turned toward her. “To me, you’re just the woman who’s fucking my second,” he said with a smile, “and there’s a different one of you every week.”
She stared at him for a moment, insecurity fluttering inside her chest, but she swallowed down her fear and stepped forward. “Oh, that’s not all I am,” she reminded him. “I’m also your monster on a leash that you’ll sic at your enemies.”
His smile deepened. “Yeah. That, too.”
“And then, when you’re done with me, you’ll put me down,” Rose said, taking a step toward him, closing the space between them, “like a rabid beast.”
He laughed, “Or better yet, I’ll let your girlfriend do it.” He took a step forward, too. “That would suck, wouldn’t it? Being killed by your own lover?”
Rose narrowed her eyes at him. “You think she’d kill me? For you?”
“I’m a commander,” he said. “She’s a warrior. What else would she do?”
“She’s a warrior, not a soldier,” she countered. “There’s a difference.”
“Is there?” he said with an amused smile. “I guess we’ll find out.”
“You made an erroneous assumption, though,” Rose pointed out.
“You just love pointing out people’s mistakes, don’t you?” Aaron sneered. Does it make you feel less powerless? Because intelligent or not, you’re still weak.”
“Deflection,” she countered. “Does that keep your ego intact?” she said, mimicking his tone. “You can’t handle hearing your mistakes, so you deflect?”
His smile faded. “Fine,” he said, shrugging. “Tell me about my mistake.”
“You can’t leash a monster,” Rose told him. “We’ll always break free.”
To her surprise, Aaron actually smiled at that. It was that small, slightly amused smile that he let slip occasionally, the one that made Rose wonder if he actually found the conflict exciting somehow, if everyday life bored him so much that he actually enjoyed being challenged. Just a little. “Go back to the celebration, Rose,” he said, returning to the table and the old book. “Enjoy your last days.”
Rose nodded and spun on her heels. She weaved around the bookshelves without even thinking, moving mostly on instinct, and then, without a word, she opened the door and stepped out into the hall. With each step, the residual fear and pain left by Aaron’s words, and the anger engulfing her insides, came rushing to the surface, growing stronger, until she felt power begin to ripple over her skin.
Rose only made it halfway down the hallway before she saw Kara walking toward her at a brisk pace. Still a little shaken from Aaron’s threat—her death at Kara’s hands—she intended to keep walking, to not even cast a glance in Kara’s direction—not until she got her anxiety under control, anyway—but Kara caught her by the arm and pulled her back. She felt the heat of Kara’s gaze on her, felt, rather than saw, the intensity of Kara’s piercing, blue gaze. Kara’s grip tightened.
“What did he say to you?” Kara growled. She moved closer, the length of her body pressing against Rose’s side,
and then, her voice softened, becoming less accusatory, and more…pained. “I felt your emotions. Tell me what he said.”
Rose glanced at her, her stomach flipping. “He told me the truth.”
Kara’s gaze roamed Rose’s face, assessing the spark of courage in Rose’s eyes, and the anxiety—the question, carved so clearly in the furrow of her brows. “Which is?” she asked softly, even though she knew already what it must’ve been.
“That he’ll command you to kill me one day,” Rose answered boldly.
Kara’s face contorted with pain—so much so, it struck Rose speechless. “Did you believe it? Do you believe it?” she asked tiredly. “That’d I’d kill you?”
“Would you?” Rose asked curiously. It surprised Kara to see that Rose’s voice held no judgement, no accusation. It seemed that Rose was withholding judgement, waiting to see what Kara had to say. “You can tell me the truth, Kara.”
Kara stared at her for a moment, as if she were trying to make up her mind about something, and then, she began to pull on Rose’s arm. “Follow me.”
Rose stumbled behind her for the first few steps, until she caught up with Kara’s brisk pace. She frowned at their room as they passed it. “Where are you taking me?” she stammered, puzzled by Kara’s determined steps, by the tightness of her grip on Rose’s arm, by her silence, and especially by the fear in her face.
They must have traveled down five or six hallways before Kara finally pulled her to a stop. Kara jerked open the last door on that hallway and pushed Rose inside. She stepped inside, too, moving around Rose to close the door. She trapped Rose against the door, her hands braced on each side of Rose’s shoulders.
“Do you trust me?” Kara whispered. She tilted her face closer to Rose’s, her breath caressing Rose’s lips. “Do you trust me, still? After what he told you?”
Even though Kara had trapped her against the door, her lean, muscular arms outstretched, preventing Rose’s escape, Rose didn’t even hesitate. “Yes.”
A hint of surprise lightened Kara’s eyes, but then, they darkened again, the emotion hidden. Her hand moved so swiftly that Rose barely noticed it—just a puzzling blur of movement. Then, Rose felt it—the cold, sharp edge of a dagger against her throat. Kara watched Rose’s reaction, as she pressed the dagger against Rose’s neck. “And now?” Kara whispered. “Do you trust me now? After what he said to you? While you’re alone? With me holding a dagger against your throat?”
Rose swallowed, wincing as that caused the blade to press harder against her throat. She thought she saw a flash of concern in Kara’s eyes, but it was gone as quickly as it appeared. Rose studied Kara’s face, searching for a hint of what Kara was doing—a hint of mischief, of actual anger, of any emotion whatsoever. But she found nothing, except the calm, smoothness of Kara’s skin, the calculated question in Kara’s icy blue eyes. The question that Rose had yet to answer. “Yes.”
Kara immediately dropped the dagger. She took a step back, her brows furrowing, as she tried to make sense of Rose’s answer. “But why? You have no reason to trust me. As a matter of fact, you have every reason not to trust me.”
“I trust you because I believe in you,” Rose said, “and because I love you.”
Kara stepped forward and cupped Rose’s face in her hands. Her gaze burned with intensity, as she tilted her face closer and whispered, “I swore fealty to you, Rose. My loyalty is yours—and yours alone. If he orders me to kill you, I need you to remember this. I need you to remember that no matter what, even if I have a dagger against your throat, I will not hurt you. I would never hurt you.”
Rose watched her curiously. “Is that your plan? You’ll pretend to kill me?”
Kara dropped her hands and looked away uncomfortably. “I don’t know what I’ll do yet, but I’ll come up with something, I promise. Aaron is too powerful for me to kill without some sort of advantage or trickery. If I refuse the order outright, he’ll kill you himself…after he kills me. So, I need him to think I’ll do it. For now.” She looked at Rose. “But I sensed what you felt, and I couldn’t let you think that I’d actually…” Pain flashed in her eyes. “I won’t betray you, Rose.”
“I believe you,” Rose told her. “But I’ll pretend not to, if that’ll help?”
Kara nodded. “Aaron must believe that I’ll do it. For now. He’d kill us both tonight, if he thought otherwise. Whatever care he does have for vampires or humans—it pales in comparison to his ambition. He’s usually swift in getting rid of threats to his power. The only exceptions have been Alana, Kallias, and you.”
“Is that why you brought me to this room?” Rose asked as she swept her gaze around the dark, unfamiliar room. “So that he wouldn’t be able to hear you?”
Kara nodded and rapped her knuckles against the wall. “Sound-proof.”
“Ah,” Rose said, glancing at the strange, paneled walls that surrounded them. Candlelight danced across those unusual walls, cast by the candles that were set up around each shrine. She stepped away from the door. “What is this place?”
“The chapel,” Kara told her. She pointed at a cross on the other side of the room. An altar, made of beautifully-carved wood, set beneath that cross, and a few old, tattered books scattered the surface of the altar. “That part of the chapel is for Christians.” She pointed toward the other side of the room, which was filled with beautiful carvings of animals and faces, and handmade, musical instruments. “And that part of the chapel is for the Inuit—like Talulah.” She swept her hand out, gesturing broadly to the many other shrines. “And those are for the many other religions represented in this colony. Nearly every religion you can think of.”
A surprised smile tugged at Rose’s lips. “A chapel? In a vampire colony?”
Kara chuckled, “Talulah is all about inclusivity, tolerance, and peace.”
“And Aaron? What is he about? Other than himself,” Rose added sassily.
Kara snorted at that. “I suppose…safety. The Tomb of Blood is meant to be shelter and companionship. Alleviation from the loneliness of immortality.”
Rose nodded. “Which is also good,” she admitted. “It seems—to me—that despite all of their differences, Talulah and Aaron want similar things.”
“Yes,” Kara agreed. “Aaron is far more powerful and influential, but less democratic. Talulah is weaker…in the physical sense, but her followers are loyal, which is more than we can say about Aaron’s followers, based on how easily they were swayed to Alana’s side. They both have their own strengths and weaknesses, but deep down, I think they want the best for our species. Well, that and power.”
Rose nodded. “Clearly.” She stepped past Kara, peering curiously at the cross on the wall. “Do you think anyone would mind if I take a look around?”
Kara waved her hand. “Go ahead,” she said easily. She knelt to pick up her dagger, and as she followed Rose, she tucked the dagger into her weapon belt.
Rose reached out and took a Bible from the altar. “Are you religious?”
Kara leaned against the wall, watching as Rose flipped open the tattered book. “I was. Once. But not anymore,” she said, shrugging. “The Norse gods and goddesses are still part of my past. Their stories are still with me. But…I suppose, when you’ve lived as long as I have, you learn to only have faith in yourself.”
Rose looked up from the book, meeting Kara’s gaze. “Only yourself?”
A smile twitched at Kara’s lips. “Well…maybe one other person.”
Rose smiled at that. “You have faith in me?” she asked softly.
“How could I not?” Kara murmured. “You’ve been a flame of light since you first stepped into my life.” She swept her gaze down Rose’s body, then, and a hungry smile curved at the edges of her lips. “And a beautiful, velvety darkness.”
Heat rushed to Rose’s face. “That’s…a bit of a contradiction, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” Kara agreed, a curious frown tilting at her lips, “Yes. You are.”
Rose stared a
t her for a moment, caught up in that intense gaze, like a fly in a spider’s web. Then, finally, she looked down at the book in her hands and swallowed uneasily. “Do you know what I think is strange about this book?”
“The gold-trimmed pages?” Kara guessed. When Rose raised an eyebrow at her, Kara just shrugged. “I’m just saying…they don’t seem to have a purpose.”
Rose laughed. She thumbed through the pages thoughtfully. “The first time I read it all the way through was when I was eight years old, and to me…”
“You read that all the way through when you were eight?” Kara laughed.
“Oh, this wasn’t the biggest book I read that year,” Rose assured her.
Kara chuckled, her eyebrows lifting. “Of course not.”
“But when I read it,” Rose continued, frowning at the pages, “I saw love. I saw stories of kindness and sacrifice. And the lesson to—above all else—love.” She looked up at Kara. “But other people read this, and that’s not what they see at all. They see something totally different. They twist it to inspire hatred, to justify cruelty, and commit unspeakable atrocities. Look at the Assassins of Light, for instance. They started out with just…this.” Rose held out the worn, leatherbound book in her hands. “It all depends on the person who holds it, I guess. You can use it to inspire kindness and love, or you can twist it to fit your own hatred, your own corruption.” Her bright blue eyes flashed with worry. “I wonder: does power work in the same way? Alana used her power to do terrible things. Was that because of her? Or the power itself? Will I lose myself to the power like she did?”
“No,” Kara said confidently. “You’re too strong to ever let it take you.”
“I wish I believed in my own strength as much as you do,” Rose sighed, “but I don’t. Most days, I feel weak. Like a damaged dam, just barely holding back the floodwaters.” Her chest tightened. “But I believe that…something, in and of itself, can’t be good or evil, because that’s us. That’s what we do to things. We use them for good and evil. It’s all about our choices and our intentions. I guess, what I’m trying to say is…I don’t think my power is evil, and I hope that I’m not.”
The Assassins of Light Page 62