“Yes,” he sighed, “but why do you have to be the one who kills her?”
“Because there isn’t anyone else,” Rose said. “Kallias is surrounded.”
“There’s me,” Erik reminded her, pain flashing in his bright green eyes.
Rose placed her hand on his arm. “No, Erik,” she argued. “It shouldn’t be you. You love her. That kind of pain—I would never want that for you.”
He frowned. “You’re risking your life just to spare me emotional pain?”
She shrugged. “Emotional pain sucks.”
Erik sighed, “Just…please, don’t get yourself killed.”
Rose nodded. “Help Kallias. Don’t let anything happen to him.”
“Of course,” Erik agreed, offering her a reassuring smile. He glanced back at Kallias. “Well, if you’re going, you better go now…while he’s not looking.”
Rose cast one more glance toward Kallias, watching as he fought several vampires at once, easily, as if he did this all of the time. Then, silently praying that he and Erik would be fine without her, she turned and ran toward the door.
Surprisingly enough, no one tried to stop her. It became clear to Rose that Alana had commanded the vampires on her side to swarm Kallias so that he couldn’t leave, but Alana apparently wasn’t as concerned about Erik or Rose.
As Rose stepped out into the empty hallway and closed the door behind her, the deafening noise of battle—the screams, yells, and grunts, the clanging of metal, the shattering of glass—softened, muffled by the walls between them.
Rose hurried through the eerily deserted halls, barely even considering her steps. The path to Kara’s room felt familiar and well-worn, even though she had been there for less than a week. She recognized Alana’s scent before she reached Kara’s room. Alana smelled of expensive lotions and perfumes. She smelled feminine and delicate. She smelled the way she acted—fragile and royal.
Rose placed her hand on the doorknob, and then…she hesitated.
She knew, of course, that she would have to kill Alana. It had been the ultimate goal since the beginning, after all. It was the only way. But Rose had desperately wanted to find another way. Rose knew that Alana was a cruel, toxic, and destructive person, of course, but Rose also knew what had happened to Alana. She saw Alana as a different version of herself—the version that didn’t recover from her past, the version that chose vengeance over forgiveness.
“Rose,” Alana called in that lilting, seductive voice of hers, its soft, soothing sound muffled by the door, “darling, don’t keep me waiting all night.”
26
The Only Way
Rose sighed and opened the door. She froze in the doorway, scowling.
She’d expected to find Alana ready to fight her, but the only thing Alana looked ready to do was sleep. Alana lay, stretched out comfortably, on the bed. She’d even kicked off her shoes already. She stared at the ceiling with a bored expression, as if she hadn’t already caused the deaths of thousands. She still wore that silky, lavender dress, but it was torn now and soaked with Kara’s blood.
She rolled over onto her side, facing Rose, and smiled. “Hello, darling.”
Rose rolled her eyes. “World War Vampire is happening outside—on your command, might I add—and you’re lying in bed? Why am I not surprised?”
Alana propped one arm beneath her head and offered Rose a seductive smile. She spread her fingers out on the empty side of the bed. “Want to join?”
Rose stared blankly at her. “Oh, yeah,” she said sarcastically. “I saw everyone ripping each other apart outside, and I thought: I know how to stop this. I’ll just have sex with the person who’s causing it. That should help, right?”
Alana traced the seam of the pillow case with her fingernail, as if she had nothing better to do. “There’s no need to get snarky,” she complained.
“Yeah, I don’t really know how to not be snarky, so…” Rose shrugged.
“This is where you sleep, isn’t it?” Alana asked.
Rose scowled. “Excuse me?”
“I smelled your scent on the pillow,” Alana explained.
“Oh. That’s not creepy at all,” Rose muttered sarcastically.
Alana unfurled herself from the bed and stood. She casually slipped on her shoes, as if she had all of the time in the world, and then, rather than walking toward Rose, she turned and walked over to the office chair. Her torn, blood-soaked, lavender dress swayed around her petite figure as she walked. She sat down in the office chair and held up her hand, examining the bloodstains on her skin and fingernails. She sighed and picked up one of Kara’s knives that lay on the desk. “I know your scent now,” she told Rose. “I’ve tasted your blood.”
Rose narrowed her eyes at Alana. “Don’t remind me,” she grumbled.
“Aw, don’t be that way,” Alana pouted, poking her bottom lip out at Rose. “I don’t understand why you dislike me so much. I want us to be friends.”
Rose raised an eyebrow. “You don’t understand why I dislike you? You hurt my friends, and you tried to kill me. And you don’t know why I dislike you?”
“Ah, that’s not fair,” Alana whined. “I don’t actually want to kill you. I just don’t see any way around it. If you won’t join me, you’re a danger to me.”
That reminded Rose of what the vampires had said in the bar: that Alana had commanded them not to kill her. “But I won’t join you. You know that now. So, why did you tell your army not to kill me?” she asked, frowning curiously.
Alana grimaced. “Because…my feelings are confusing, okay?!” she said, a little aggressively. “I kind of hate you, but I also kind of like you. I can’t decide.”
Rose raised an eyebrow. “Well…I kind of think you’re insane.”
Alana sighed irritably, “See? When you say things like that, I hate you.”
Rose nodded. “My mouth is usually the reason people hate me.”
“It’s a pretty mouth,” Alana murmured, “but it’s also very annoying.”
Rose frowned. “My mouth is…pretty?” she repeated bewilderedly.
Alana sighed and waved her hand. “And there’s also Kara to consider.”
“Kara has a pretty mouth, too?” Rose asked, frowning. “I mean, I guess she does, doesn’t she? It’s kind of…soft and warm and…passionate…” she trailed off thoughtfully. Her eyes widened as she realized that Alana was staring at her. Well, glaring at her, actually. “Not that I would know,” Rose added quickly.
Alana rolled her eyes. “I know you kissed her. I can smell her on your lips,” she said dismissively. “And I wasn’t talking about her mouth, you strange, strange girl. I meant…when I’m trying to decide whether to kill you, I also have to consider Kara’s feelings. She cares about you, and I don’t want to hurt her.”
“Really?” Rose said dryly. “That’s new.”
Alana gave her a wounded look. “You’re not being fair,” she sulked. “You just don’t understand. Kara and I have always had a unique relationship.”
“The word you’re looking for is toxic,” Rose corrected, “or abusive.”
Alana pursed her lips. “Sometimes, we hurt each other, but that doesn’t change how I feel about her. When I’m not angry, I don’t like to hurt her.”
“When you’re not angry,” Rose repeated, her eyebrows lifting.
Alana looked up at Rose and sighed, “You don’t think I care about her?”
Rose just stared back at her. “Do you?”
“Of course I do!” Alana laughed, as if she couldn’t think of a single reason for anyone to doubt her love. “How could you ever think otherwise?”
“You tried to disembowel her,” Rose muttered, “less than an hour ago.”
“She hurt my feelings,” Alana pouted as she cleaned the blood out from beneath her fingernails, ignoring the fact that blood still soaked every inch of her dress. “Everyone tries to kill the person they love every now and then, right?”
Rose frowned. “Uh…no, actu
ally, I don’t think they do. At all.”
Alana’s dark blue gaze shifted toward Rose. She tilted her head to the side, her pale blonde hair falling over her shoulder, as she studied Rose with an unnerving intensity. A smile curled at the edges of her lips. “The better question is,” she said as she stood and approached Rose, “why do you care about her?”
Rose stepped back, pressing her back against the door, as Alana closed in on her, cornering her against the door. “It’s a bad habit,” she said dryly. “Some of us sane, non-homicidal people struggle with it. I’ve tried to quit, but…” She shrugged and flashed a sassy smile. “I guess I’m just not a sociopath like you.”
Rose yelped as Alana shoved her back against the door. Alana had used so much force that the wooden door splintered and bent outward from the impact. Rose closed her eyes, cringing, as pain throbbed throughout her body.
Alana’s hands pinned Rose’s shoulders to the door, and she leaned in close, so close that Rose could smell her own blood on Alana’s breath. Alana’s lips curved into that seductive smile she wore so often. “I think you and I both know that it’s more than that.” She moved her lips to Rose’s ear and whispered, “I saw what you did for her. The terrifying monster that you became for her.”
“Also a bad habit,” Rose said as she opened her eyes.
Alana gasped and took a step back.
Because Rose’s eyes were no longer blue. They were red.
Rose raised an eyebrow at Alana’s behavior. “You’re afraid of me?”
Alana didn’t even try to hide it. “It’s those eyes. They’re monstrous.”
Rose flinched at that word. “Says the one trying to destroy the world.”
“At least I look pretty doing it,” Alana countered. She grimaced. “You look like some kind of demon…or dark god…something out of a scary story.”
“You’re always so nice to me,” Rose said sarcastically. Her eyes burned a brighter red as she stepped forward, toward Alana. “I don’t think it’s my eyes that scare you. I think it’s the memory of what I did the last time you saw them.”
Alana smiled bitterly. “It was quite…destructive,” she admitted.
“You know that I can kill you,” Rose said slowly, “with my abilities.”
Alana nodded, and a wicked smile pulled at her lips. “But will you?”
Rose frowned. “That’s why I came. I’m here to kill you.”
Alana leaned in close, so close that her body brushed against Rose’s, and whispered, “I don’t think so.” She smiled at Rose’s confused expression. “I don’t think you want to kill me. If you did, you would have already. I gave you every opportunity. You could have killed me while I lay in bed or while I sat in that chair. I’m faster than you and stronger than you. So, it doesn’t make sense for you to wait until I get close to you to use your abilities. If I had the power of telekinesis, I would kill the person when they were too far away to kill me first.”
“You…gave…me the opportunity?” Rose repeated, frowning.
Alana scoffed, “You thought I left myself vulnerable by accident?”
Rose’s frown deepened. “But why?” she sputtered.
“To see what you would do, of course,” Alana laughed. She purposely pressed her body against Rose’s. “Admit it, love. You don’t want to kill me.”
“I’m not your love,” Rose said irritably.
Alana giggled, “It’s just a term of endearment, darling.”
“I know, but you don’t feel endeared to me either,” Rose said.
“What?” Alana gasped, as if that were the most absurd thing she had ever heard. “But of course I do! Now, stop avoiding the issue and answer me.”
“You’re right,” Rose admitted. “I don’t want to kill you.”
Alana tilted her head to the side, frowning at Rose. “Why not?”
“Because…I know,” Rose sighed, sympathy burning in her bright blue eyes. “I know what they did to you, and…it’s terrible. I can’t hate you, Alana.”
Alana’s dark eyes narrowed. “You pity me?”
“No, I don’t pity you. I sympathize with you,” Rose corrected.
Alana’s expression softened. “Sympathize,” she repeated softly. “Yes, of course you sympathize. Because you know how it feels. Someone hurt you in that way, too. More than one someone, actually. You know how it feels to have someone take your dignity and self-worth. To have someone violate your will.”
The red haze in Rose’s eyes faded until her eyes were their usual bright blue color. Her lungs burned, and her throat felt too tight. “Yes,” she whispered.
“I know what happened to you,” Alana said, tucking a lock of red hair behind Rose’s ear. “I know all of it—the parts you talk about and the parts you don’t. I want to punish the ones who hurt you like that. They deserve to suffer.”
“We’ve already discussed this, Alana,” Rose said. “I don’t want that.”
“Why not?” Alana snarled, her eyes flashing. “It’s what they deserve.”
“Of course it is,” Rose sighed. “But mercy is better than justice.”
Alana grimaced. “Only for them.”
“No, not for them,” Rose said. “For me. Don’t you see? The difference between you and me is that I forgave the people who hurt me, and you didn’t.”
“Of course I didn’t,” Alana growled.
“Hatred corrupts,” Rose explained. “The wounds fester, and the hatred eats you alive. It sucks all of the goodness out of you…until there’s nothing left.”
Alana shrugged. “I don’t care.”
“Then, the people who hurt you won,” Rose stated.
Alana laughed. “If you saw what I did to them, you wouldn’t think that.”
“It doesn’t matter what you did to them,” Rose sighed. “They changed you. I forgave the people who hurt me because I refuse to give them that power over me. They can take my dignity, my self-confidence, my childhood…but they can’t take my kindness, my goodness, or my happiness. I won’t let them do that.”
“You think they took my happiness?” Alana asked, frowning.
“Didn’t they?” Rose asked sympathetically. “When was the last time you were actually happy? I imagine that the closest you’ve ever come was with Erik or Kara, but even then, you couldn’t let go of your hatred. You couldn’t love.”
Alana’s shoulders dropped, and her entire body seemed to deflate, as if all of the resolve had been drained out of her. “I hate what happened to me. I hate what happened to you,” she said sadly. “What is so wrong about that?”
“It’s what it led you to do that was wrong,” Rose explained.
Alana stepped closer and reached up, cradling Rose’s face in her hands. “I just want to create a world where these things don’t happen,” she whispered.
“You can’t create that world. It doesn’t exist,” Rose sighed.
“It will,” Alana insisted. “I can do it. I’m powerful. I can change things.”
“Not by becoming the people who hurt you,” Rose argued.
Alana dropped her hands and stepped back, disappointment pulling at her features. “I thought you would understand,” she mumbled, mostly to herself.
“I do. More than I’d like to admit,” Rose said. “But I still know that what you’re doing is wrong. And I want you to realize that…before it’s too late.”
“You think that you’re the hero of this story, and I’m the villain,” Alana said, a bitter smile curving at the edges of her lips. “But I know the truth.”
“The truth?” Rose repeated worriedly. “What do you mean by that?”
Alana played absently with the strings of Rose’s hoodie, tugging it tighter and then loosening it as she spoke. “My darkness runs deep. That’s true. But your darkness?” she paused, her dark blue gaze shifting up to meet Rose’s gaze. Her smile deepened. “Your darkness would rip the entire universe apart.”
“What are you talking about, Alana?” Rose breathed, her heart raci
ng.
With the string of Rose’s hoodie wrapped around her hand, Alana jerked Rose closer, until their faces nearly touched. “I’ve been inside your head, Rose. I know things about you that even you don’t know. I know what you really are.”
Rose felt a strange prickling sensation in her head, like fingertips sliding over her mind. A wave of disorientation washed over her—so intense that she might have collapsed if Alana weren’t clutching her jacket. “What am I?”
“The truth is, Rose,” Alana whispered, her breath warm against Rose’s face, “you’re only one tragedy away from becoming the worst villain this world has ever seen.” She released Rose’s jacket so abruptly that Rose fell back.
Rose caught herself against the door. “That’s not true,” she insisted.
Alana lifted an eyebrow. “Isn’t it?”
An image suddenly flashed through Rose’s mind, an image that felt so familiar, an image that she must have seen somewhere before, but at the same time, she couldn’t have—black hair…black eyes…black sky…blood…so much blood. Rose fell to her knees, shaking, as her mind spun with disorientation, as pain lashed through her head, as that image seemed to rip apart her conscious thoughts. Rose threw her head back and screamed, “Stay out of my head!”
Alana knelt in front of Rose, her blood-soaked, lavender dress brushing against the marble floor. She reached out and gently traced the curves of Rose’s face with her finger. “Aww, but darling,” she cooed, “I’m already in your head.”
Cold dread washed over Rose. “What?” she breathed, looking at Alana.
Alana tilted her head to the side, her pale blonde hair falling over one shoulder. “Since you know a little bit about psychic abilities, I have a pop quiz for you. Tell me: How do you tell the difference between reality and an illusion?”
Rose stared at Alana, her face paling, as she realized, “You can’t.”
Rose watched in horror as the room dissolved around them, the colors swirling into nothingness, like paint dissolving in water, changing into an entirely different picture. Her mind lurched violently at the change, unable to make sense of her surroundings as the old illusion ceased to exist and the new one formed.
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