The Reign of Darkness

by Britney Jackson

  “We should go,” the princess said. “The ceremony starts soon.”

  —

  Rose followed Princess Myrinne out into the hall. “They seemed nice.”

  Princess Myrinne nodded. “And very much in love. That’s the important part. In Skotalia, we marry anyone who desires it, as long as they love each other.”

  “Anyone?” Rose said, curious as ever. “What if both lovers are women?”

  The princess turned toward her, glancing back and forth between Rose and Kara. “Do you mean…like the two of you? You want to marry the warrior?”

  “What? No!” Rose said—so emphatically that both the princess and Kara looked at her. Rose blushed and mumbled, “Kara’s afraid of commitment.”

  Kara laughed—but didn’t argue.

  “I just meant,” Rose clarified, “would you do that? Marry two women?”

  Princess Myrinne shrugged. “I don’t understand. Why wouldn’t I?”

  “What?” Rose said with a laugh. “Homophobia isn’t a thing here?”

  “I’m not familiar with the term,” Princess Myrinne told her. She frowned thoughtfully, as if she were trying to use her limited knowledge of modern culture to figure it out. “People have issues with…gender…where you’re from?”

  “Issues, yeah,” Rose said. She turned to Kara, lowering her voice—even though the princess still heard her. “I changed my mind. This place doesn’t suck.”

  Kara laughed, “It doesn’t take much to please you, does it?”

  A strange, thoughtful look came over Rose’s face—one that made Kara’s smile slip a little, as she wondered what was on Rose’s mind. Rose stepped closer and asked, her voice quiet and timid, “What if we just…stayed here? Together?”

  Kara smiled. “I’d love that,” she murmured. She held Rose’s gaze for a moment, affection burning in her intense, blue eyes. Then, she shrugged, and her smile tilted mischievously. “I’m cool with watching the world burn, if you are.”

  “Oh, yeah,” Rose said, rolling her eyes. “I forgot. Apocalypses are bad.”

  Princess Myrinne studied Rose with a frown, as if she’d found something about Rose’s comment concerning. Maybe she’d taken the comment a little more seriously than Rose had meant it. Or maybe the mention of apocalypses bothered her, for some reason. “For the record, everyone in this kingdom would be elated, if you chose to stay,” she told Rose. Glancing at Kara, she added, “Even if that means we have to put up with your lover.” Before Rose could react to that last part—or any of it, for that matter—Princess Myrinne added, “I need to prepare. Why don’t you two go find a seat?” She bowed. “I hope you enjoy the wedding.”

  Rose watched the princess turn and head back down the hall, toward the other part of the temple. Then, she turned back toward the door, freezing, as she suddenly met Kara’s intense gaze. She’d always found Kara’s gaze to be strangely intense, in comparison to the casual way she held herself. Her posture was always relaxed, her movements languid, and yet, her intense, icy blue eyes remained sharp at all times, her gaze deliberate. But now, it seemed even more intense than usual.

  Kara blinked out of her daze, a slow smile curling at the edges of her lips. She stepped forward and opened the door to the chapel. Then, she leaned against it and waited. “After you, sexy,” she said, her voice deliberately low and seductive.

  It took Rose a moment to collect herself. Then, she laughed, “Seriously?”

  Kara’s grin tilted mischievously. “How else would I stare at your ass?”

  Rose shook her head, suppressing a smile. She stepped backward, facing Kara, still. “If I walk backward,” she teased, “you still won’t be able to stare at it.”

  Kara straightened, her smile faltering. “Er, I wouldn’t…” she trailed off.

  At that exact moment, Rose’s heel collided with something and sent her tumbling backward. She gasped, as her back crashed against hard, leather padding, the speed briefly knocking the breath from her lungs. She blinked up at those intense, ice-blue eyes that stared down at her, realizing that Kara had caught her. Kara pressed her lips tightly together—obviously trying to hold back laughter.

  Rose rolled her eyes. “This is what I get for trying to flirt. I knew better.”

  Kara chuckled, her light blue eyes sparkling. “Nah. It wasn’t so bad.”

  Rose pressed her hands against the several layers of leather that wrapped around Kara’s torso, as she regained her footing. She gave Kara a skeptical look. “Oh, really? So, me tumbling backward, like a total klutz, worked on you, then?”

  Kara smiled. “It was cute,” she murmured. She leaned forward, pressing her lips against Rose’s ear. “It also gave me an excuse to touch you.” Her fingers curled tightly against Rose’s back, clutching a handful of the silk shirt Rose wore.

  Rose breathed out a soft, strangled sigh and clutched the back of Kara’s shoulder, as heat traveled through her—radiating from Kara’s hand into her back, then from her back to every part of her body. She pressed her face against Kara’s shoulder, breathing in the scent of layers upon layers of thick leather. And violets.

  She slipped her fingers into Kara’s violet-scented hair, her face turning.

  “My Eklektos,” a familiar voice interrupted, “are you feeling all right?”

  Rose dropped her hands and stepped back, blinking in shock, as she met the dark brown gaze behind Kara. Ligeia stood behind Kara, watching them with raised eyebrows. She wore black, leather armor, as well—though hers was much nicer than Kara’s, its belts crimson, with a red flame embroidered across the chest.

  Rose recognized that flame. It was the same one she’d seen in that other symbol—the tiny, red flame that had joined the dark and light halves of the circle.

  “You fell so suddenly,” Ligeia added. “Are you experiencing overuse?’

  “Oh. No,” Rose said. “Just experiencing my…general disastrousness.”

  When Kara turned to face her, Ligeia’s dark brown eyes narrowed. “Oh,” she said, raking her gaze over the black, leather armor. “It fits. How unfortunate.”

  Kara chuckled. “Ligeia,” she taunted, “I’d wondered where you were.”

  Ligeia huffed out a frustrated sigh. She swept out her hand, waving at the other leather-clad warriors in the room. “Zosime said we’d need warriors present, so…” she trailed off. “There’s really no refusing Zosime—as you’ve clearly seen.”

  Kara’s smile was predatory. “Certainly not when you’re in love with her.”

  Fury flashed in Ligeia’s dark eyes, and she stepped forward. “Just because I wasn’t there, when you threatened my princess, doesn’t mean I don’t know.”

  “Well, go ahead. Kick my ass for it,” Kara taunted. “I love a good fight.”

  Ligeia moved her hand toward the sword at her waist, curling her fingers around it. Kara’s smile widened, but she made no move to grab her own weapon.

  Rose scowled. “Surely, you know your princess threatened Kara, too?”

  Ligeia cast a wary glance at Rose, as if she’d just remembered Rose was standing there. “She’s…the princess, my Eklektos,” she said with a baffled frown.

  “Ooh! Shiny title!” Rose said, wiggling her fingers mockingly. She rolled her eyes. “That doesn’t mean she can just treat everyone however she wants to.”

  “But that is what it means,” Ligeia said in a puzzled tone, “my Eklektos.”

  “Agree to disagree,” Rose said, waving her hand dismissively. “The point is: if you don’t want my eyes going all red and glowy, don’t touch your sword.”

  Ligeia immediately dropped her hand. “Understood, my Eklektos.”

  Kara stared at Rose, excitement sparkling within her light blue eyes.

  Ligeia straightened, suddenly, her nostrils flaring at a familiar scent. Her dark gaze darted toward the door. “I should go. My warriors have probably gotten into the blood-wine by now.” She bowed. “Enjoy the wedding, my Eklektos.”

  Rose watched with a guil
ty expression, as Ligeia left. “Did I upset her?”

  “No, love. You’re fine,” Kara assured her. When Rose gave her a curious look, Kara smiled. “You’ll learn to recognize it—the way a vampire’s body reacts, when they’re close to someone they’ve shared blood with. It’s not as intense as a true blood bond, but even long after the bond’s broken, there’s always a reaction.”

  “Zosime,” Rose realized. She felt Kara’s fingers curl around her arm and spin her around to face Zosime—who stood in the door, watching with a smile.

  “My Eklektos,” Zosime said. “Just the quirky woman I was looking for.”

  Rose lifted her eyebrows in amusement. “You’re calling me quirky?”

  Zosime stepped closer, moving out of the way of the vampires who came in behind her. “We’re both quirky,” she acknowledged. “It’s why we’ll be friends.”

  Rose laughed at Zosime’s dismissive attitude. “Oh. That explains it.”

  Zosime looked impeccable, as always, dressed in long, flowing robes that resembled a modern gown—yet, looked entirely different, at the same time. She’d hidden something in the palm of her hand, and as she stepped closer, she reached out and grasped the silk lapel of Rose’s coat. “I brought you a gift,” she said, as she clipped something to the overcoat. Her lips curved. “I hope you don’t mind.”

  Rose recognized the scent easily, even though she still couldn’t see it. It was a warm, floral scent that Rose had smelled thousands of times before. When Zosime stepped back, Rose looked down at her clothes, confirming that Zosime had indeed pinned a red rose to Rose’s clothes. “More flowers?” she said with an incredulous laugh. She waved her hand at all of the flowers that filled the chapel. “Where are you getting them all? Do florists make deliveries to caves, now?”

  Zosime chuckled, “I brought the flowers, actually. Just like I did yours.”

  “Flower magic and precognition,” Rose said playfully. “How impressive.”

  Zosime’s smile deepened. “Not magic. Just gardening,” she laughed. “It’s a large, beautiful garden. I’ll show you, if you’d like to accompany me sometime.”

  Rose’s brows furrowed. “You have a garden? In an underground cave?”

  “No, of course not,” Zosime said. “It’s on the surface. I visit it at night.”

  “Ah, that makes more sense,” Rose muttered. She glanced awkwardly at the rose pinned to her clothes. “Thanks for the rose, by the way.” She looked up, her bright blue gaze shifting toward Kara. “And for the armor you gave to Kara.”

  Zosime’s dark brown gaze shifted toward Kara, dancing with delight, as it swept over Kara’s leather-clad form. “She wears leather well, doesn’t she?”

  Kara grinned, clearly enjoying the attention. “I take it off well, too.”

  Zosime laughed warmly. “Ah, you just can’t help yourself, can you?”

  “Why does she need armor?” Rose asked seriously. “What did you see?”

  Zosime glanced at her. “It’s best if you don’t know. Trust me. I’ve seen several futures, and this is the one that ended in the lowest number of casualties.”

  Rose’s eyes widened. “Casualties? People are going to die tonight?”

  Rose didn’t realize how loudly she’d blurted that out, until she heard the hush fall over the room. She glanced around, wincing, as she realized how many people had heard her. “I meant like…all over the world. Not here, specifically.”

  A few of the vampires present seemed to accept that answer—returning to their preparations and small talk. But others narrowed their eyes suspiciously.

  “Careful,” Zosime said. “Where there’s murder, there are murderers.”

  Rose spun toward Zosime, her brows creasing with worry. “Why are we even here, if something like that is going to happen? Just call off the wedding!”

  “That future is particularly bad,” Zosime said dismissively. She leaned in closer to Rose, curling her long, brown fingers around the dark red Stone that lay against Rose’s chest. Its red glow immediately flickered out. “Just keep her close.”

  Rose wasn’t sure if she meant the Stone of the Eklektos or Kara, but she knew she wasn’t letting Kara out of her sight—not if Kara was in danger. “I will.”

  “Good,” Zosime said, releasing the necklace. “Take care, my Eklektos.”

  As soon as Zosime left, Rose turned to Kara—who seemed a little more alert than usual, but not nearly as anxious as Rose. “We shouldn’t have come.”

  Kara shrugged a shoulder. “If anyone wants to hurt you, they’ll have to go through me, and if anyone wants to hurt me, they’ll have to go through you.” A proud smile curled at the edges of her lips. “Neither one of us are easy targets.”

  Rose chewed on her lip nervously. “I don’t want to risk you getting hurt.”

  “Well, I do,” Kara said with a smirk. “I happen to find risks very sexy.”

  Rose rolled her eyes, an amused smile twitching at her lips. “Well, do you know what I find sexy?” When she saw Kara’s eyebrows arch encouragingly, Rose told her, “You. Not dying. So, can you just…try not to get hurt tonight? Please?”

  Kara grinned. “You just called me sexy. I’ll do whatever you ask of me.”

  Rose blushed at the obvious innuendo there. “Including…not dying?”

  “Whatever you ask,” Kara repeated, winking at Rose. She tilted her head toward the bench-like seats that lined the room. “Let’s go find us a seat, sexy.”

  —

  It was strange, Rose thought, the way some traditions varied from culture to culture, while others were so similar. Many traditions in modern weddings were relatively new and specific to culture, so she wasn’t expecting this wedding to be like any wedding she’d ever seen before. But it wasn’t quite as different as she’d expected. The bride and groom had entered the room together, rather than alone. They stood in the center of the room—with seats facing the center—rather than the front of the room. Instead of rings, they both held rolls of rope in their hands.

  Rose still hadn’t figured out why anyone would need rope at a wedding.

  They’d said a few things in their own language. Possibly chants, of some kind? Or prayers? But then, they’d switched to English for the rest of the night.

  Princess Myrinne led the ceremony, which was somewhat different from modern tradition, but considering Princess Myrinne used to be the high priestess for…whatever religion they practiced here, Rose figured it wasn’t that different, after all. Princess Uptight, as Kara liked to call her, looked much less uptight than usual. She wasn’t as loose-lipped as she’d been the night she’d gotten drunk, but she did seem much more at ease, as if she enjoyed this more than her usual duties.

  “We come together tonight,” Princess Myrinne said, “to celebrate love.”

  Akilina gazed up at her future husband with the sweetest, adoring smile.

  The princess continued, “The old stories tell us that when Light created humans, she created their souls whole, but in those first few years, humans could only hurt each other. They felt no longing for companionship, no need for love. They were capable of only ambition, selfishness, and cruelty. Never selflessness. Never kindness. So, Light turned to Darkness and asked her for help. Darkness, in turn, fractured each soul and gave its other half to Light. Then, Light created new humans and placed those soul fragments in them, so that people would need one another, so that we would befriend each other and get to know one another, always searching for the other halves of our souls. This is how love came to be.”

  Rose had heard similar stories before, from other cultures, but there was something about this one. Déjà vu settled deep in her stomach, nauseating her.

  “Not all love is romantic, and not all marriages are two halves of a soul coming together,” the princess said. “Sometimes, love is just the companionship we find along the way. But all love is good. All love is worthy of being celebrated.”

  For the first time since Rose had met her, she saw a genuin
e smile curve at the corners of Princess Myrinne’s lips. Unlike the polite smile she usually wore, this smile made her pale blue eyes shine in the darkness. It made her skin glow.

  But then, that smile faded, sadness pouring in through the cracks in her façade. “As immortals, we know that eternity can be very lonely,” she said sadly. “We know loss in a way that humans can barely imagine. We know pain in a way that humans don’t. We know solitude in a way that humans don’t. And after so many years of sadness, we begin to think that immortality is a curse.” She paused for a moment, as if that statement affected her personally. “But time doesn’t have to be a curse. It all depends on how it’s spent. Time can be a gift, if we find love.”

  Loss.

  Pain.

  Rose fumbled with the sash around her stomach, trying to tune that part out. Those words felt too familiar. The wounds still felt too fresh. Flashes of the memories lingered in her mind, ready to open at the slightest turn of a key. There was more to what the princess had said—a happier, more hopeful part—but Rose hadn’t heard it. She was too busy trying to quell the flood of emotions inside her.

  “So, when we do find that person,” the princess continued, “the one who makes our heartbeats quicken, the one who brings light into our lives when we’d forgotten all but darkness, the one who heals the wounds that blood can’t heal…”

  Rose stopped fumbling with her sash and looked up at Princess Myrinne.

  “We have to hold on to them,” Princess Myrinne finished. “We have to celebrate our love for them. Because even if nothing else is worth it, they are.”

  Rose felt a strange sensation tingling over her skin, and as if drawn by an unseen force, she found herself turning her head and gazing into a pair of intense, icy blue eyes. Kara held her gaze shamelessly, a mixture of surprise, love, and fear burning within those beautifully intense eyes of hers. Rose felt her chest fluttering, her stomach twisting into pleasant knots, as she and Kara stared at each other.

  “Because,” Princess Myrinne said, “their love makes us want to be better. Their love makes us want to live. Immortality isn’t a curse when we’re with them.”