The Reign of Darkness

by Britney Jackson

  A slow smile spread across Kara’s face. “What if I train you a bit more?”

  Rose straightened, her blue eyes bright with excitement. Mediocre or not, Rose actually liked fighting now. Or maybe it was just the training with Kara that she liked. She shrugged off the blanket and stepped toward Kara. “Couldn’t hurt.”

  Kara smiled, delighted by Rose’s reaction. “Let me get out of this jacket.”

  “Are you sure you’re not too tired,” Rose asked, “after that battle?”

  Kara unzipped her leather jacket. “Are you kidding me?” she laughed. “I could fight a hundred battles, and I’d still be ready to roll around with you, sexy.”

  Rose’s cheeks reddened. “I should put down some blankets. There’s ice.”

  “Oh, no,” Kara teased. “No mercy when you’re fighting with me, love.”

  Rose lifted her eyebrows in disbelief. “You want us to freeze to death?”

  Just as Kara finished stripping off her leather jacket, the princess barged into their tent. Rose and Kara both frowned, as Princess Myrinne blinked at them.

  “Sorry to interrupt your hourly make-out session,” Princess Myrinne said in an irritable tone. She continued on, not giving Rose time to correct her, “but I need you to follow me.” She rolled her eyes. “There’s something I should’ve given you months ago, but I was revolted by the thought of giving a gift to your warrior.”

  Rose’s eyebrows lifted. “Revolted? That’s a little melodramatic, isn’t it?”

  But Kara just laughed. “You have to give me—the person you absolutely hate—a gift?” She crossed her arms and grinned. “You must be so humiliated.”

  The princess’s pale blue eyes narrowed. “It’s from my people. Not me.”

  “Of course,” Kara said, her light blue eyes sparkling. “Still humiliating.”

  Princess Myrinne rolled her eyes. “Why didn’t I drink some blood-wine, before facing you?” she muttered under her breath. She turned to Rose, offering her a polite smile—as if Rose hadn’t just heard all of that. “If you’ll both follow me, my Eklektos, I’d be honored to give you your gifts.” She ended with a bow.

  Rose frowned. “Aren’t honored and revolted kind of…mutually-exclusive?”

  Princess Myrinne lifted an eyebrow in disbelief. “Can you just come and accept your gifts, please?” she snapped, clearly exasperated by the two of them.

  Rose couldn’t help but laugh. “We’d love to,” she said, “and thank you.”

  Princess Myrinne’s glare slowly morphed into a smile. “It’s an honor.”

  Kara’s expression morphed into a smile, as well. “I like it when you say we,” she murmured to Rose, flashing a mischievous smirk, “like we’re a couple.”

  “We…are a couple,” Rose said with a worried frown, “aren’t we?”

  “Yes,” Kara conceded, looking away, “but I still like it.”

  Princess Myrinne stared blankly at them. “Right. Follow me.”

  Kara grasped Rose’s upper arm, just as she started to follow the princess out into the snow. When Rose turned toward her, Kara knelt and picked up the blanket that Rose had shrugged off. “Your clothes are still wet,” she said, as she, once again, draped the blanket around Rose’s shoulders. “There. Now, let’s go.”

  Rose smiled and clutched the blanket at her chest, as she stepped outside.

  Princess Myrinne, Ligeia, and Zosime camped close to Rose and Kara—likely so that they could communicate easily and often. Over the past few months, the four of them had made many decisions together. Despite its briefness, though, the walk through the snow from Rose and Kara’s tent to Princess Myrinne’s tent was painfully cold. Rose sighed in relief, as soon as she entered the princess’s tent.

  Princess Myrinne’s makeshift “bed,” if you could call it that, was elevated with layers upon layers of wool and looked surprisingly warm. They stepped past that, and Princess Myrinne opened a chest. The items inside the chest varied in size and were wrapped in silk. The first several items resembled the shape of her crowns and tiaras. She simply set those aside, leaving them in their silk coverings.

  She pulled out the first item, which was about the size of her forearm.

  Behind her, Kara peered into the chest, reaching in to check beneath the silk cloth. She lifted an eyebrow when the gleam of gold caught her eye. “So, you do have treasure chests!” she said, as Princess Myrinne shot a peeved glare at her.

  “It’s not treasure,” Princess Myrinne scoffed. “These were just the things I needed to keep safe throughout the journey. Most of it is important. Or shiny.”

  “You’re right,” Rose said. “That doesn’t sound anything like treasure.”

  Kara chuckled at Rose’s sarcasm, as she returned to her side. Tilting her head toward the item in Princess Myrinne’s hand, she asked, “Is that a dagger?”

  “It is,” Princess Myrinne confirmed. She held it out toward Rose. “Our best smith and my most trusted priestess worked together to make this for you.”

  “Me?” Rose asked. Her brows furrowed. “But I already have a dagger.”

  Princess Myrinne pulled the silk cloth away from the weapon, revealing a gleam of gold. “I know,” she laughed. “That’s why they made you another one.”

  Kara leaned toward Rose and said, “Two daggers are better than one.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” Rose teased her, “we already know how you feel about it.”

  Kara winked at Rose—before leaning forward, onto her toes, to see the dagger that Princess Myrinne was unveiling. “Ooh, sexy sheath,” she commented.

  Rose squinted a little at Kara’s choice of adjective but said nothing. When the princess pulled the last bit of silk away from the sheath, Rose saw the intricate, golden pattern, inlaid into the sheath. It was a dragon, Rose realized, as she noted the wings and the flames spewing from its mouth. The design prodded at Rose’s mind, as if it were urging her to remember something. “It’s pretty,” she mumbled.

  Princess Myrinne watched her expectantly, her pale blue eyes shrewd, as if she were waiting for Rose to realize something. “My people have always loved their metaphors, my Eklektos,” she said meaningfully—though Rose didn’t know the meaning. The princess grasped the hilt and pulled the dagger from its sheath.

  Kara blew out a low wolf-whistle. “And the dagger’s sexy, as well.”

  Rose turned, giving Kara a bemused look. “I…have some concerns.”

  Kara stepped forward, taking the dagger from Princess Myrinne’s hands, despite the glare the princess shot her way. She traced her finger along the blade, over the gold inlay that weaved through the steel blade. She pressed her fingertip against the blade, allowing it to slice into her own skin—much to Rose’s dismay.

  Rose stared, her eyes wide, as the scent of Kara’s blood filled her senses.

  “Sharp,” Kara murmured under her breath. “Strong steel. Nice design.”

  Obviously agitated by the scent of blood, the princess cleared her throat. “Let me get you something to wipe away the blood,” she said with a forced smile.

  As soon as the princess turned around, Kara casually presented her finger to Rose, and Rose—too overwhelmed by hunger to do anything else—licked it.

  By the time the princess returned with a cloth, Kara’s finger was clean of blood and fully healed. She glanced back and forth—from Kara, who was looking at the blade still, to Rose, whose cheeks had turned bright red. She rolled her eyes.

  Kara handed the dagger to Rose, before flashing a smirk at the princess.

  “You used gold to make a weapon?” Rose said, as she studied the dagger.

  “It’s more steel than gold,” Kara told her, “but it’d still cost a fortune.”

  Princess Myrinne frowned curiously at that. “Cost?”

  Rose looked up, blinking. “You…didn’t know gold was expensive?”

  “Expensive,” the princess repeated with a frown. Recognition flashed in her pale blue eyes. “Oh, you mean that human thing! Wha
t is the word? Money?”

  “Yes, that human thing,” Rose mumbled. “It’s…a little important. Since, you know, their entire culture revolves around earning and spending money.”

  But Princess Myrinne just waved her hand dismissively. “Yeah, we don’t have that in our kingdom. We just have resources and people who need them.”

  “Once again,” Rose muttered, “progressive for an ancient kingdom.”

  “Taking care of people is progressive in your culture?” the princess asked.

  Rose opened her mouth to respond—then closed it again. She turned to Kara and whispered in her ear, “She makes me feel very inadequate sometimes.”

  Kara glanced at Rose. “Do you want me to make her regret it?”

  “What?” Rose sputtered, her bright blue eyes wide. “No!”

  “I hope you’ll enjoy the dagger,” Princess Myrinne said. “Our best people crafted the design for you, specifically. I think it should feel quite personal to you.”

  “Speaking of the design,” Rose said, turning the dagger over in her hand, noticing the familiar symbol on the hilt. “This is the symbol that’s on your hand.”

  Princess Myrinne glanced down at her gloved hand, her tattoo hidden by the silk glove. “It is,” she said, thick trepidation in her voice. “Why do you ask?”

  “I didn’t ask. I stated,” Rose corrected. Her bright blue eyes narrowed at Princess Myrinne. “What I am going to ask,” she added, “is…what does it mean?”

  Princess Myrinne looked at the circular symbol, engraved into the handle of the dagger—the symbol that Rose was unknowingly tracing with her fingertip. Her shrewd gaze shifted up, meeting Rose’s. “You’ll know in time, my Eklektos.”

  Rose sighed, “Why put it on my dagger, if you’re not going to tell me?”

  “Because,” the princess stated, her jaw tight, “you’ll…know…in time.”

  “Oh, thanks,” Rose said. “That was totally less vague the second time.”

  Princess Myrinne scowled at the sarcasm. “Let me get your lover’s gift.”

  “Her name is Kara,” Rose muttered. “Names are a thing, you know.”

  Kara leaned forward, her weight on the balls of her feet, as she watched the princess reach into the chest. She tilted her head a little, dark blue hair falling over the front of her leather jacket. Her eyebrows lifted, when Princess Myrinne pulled out a shockingly large item from the chest. With as long as it was, it must’ve taken up the entire bottom portion of the chest. “That looks an awfully lot like…”

  Before Kara could finish her comment, Princess Myrinne pulled the silk cloth away, revealing a long, double-edged battle-axe. “Holy hell,” Kara breathed.

  Rose watched her with a smile, amused by the childish wonder on Kara’s face. She gave the princess an impressed look. “I think you finally won her over.”

  Kara quickly snatched the battle-axe from the princess, holding its handle with both hands. “Not quite,” she told Rose, “but I do hate her a little less now.”

  Princess Myrinne rolled her eyes. “I didn’t have anything to do with it,” she said defensively, as if they’d insulted her, somehow. “The royal family insisted that the sworn warrior to the Eklektos needed a gift, as well. I simply complied.”

  Kara looked up, her eyes sparkling. “Is there anyone I can test it out on?”

  “Anyone? As in: a person?” the princess sputtered. “No. Absolutely not.”

  Kara’s shoulders lifted in a nonchalant shrug. “Fine. I’ll just use Erik.”

  Princess Myrinne looked concerned.

  “Is your battle-axe as sexy as my dagger?” Rose teased.

  “Sexier,” Kara told her. “It’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.” She spared a small glance for Rose—before returning her attention to the axe. “No offense.”

  “None taken,” Rose replied, spreading out her arms. “How could I ever hope to compete with an inanimate object? That…kills people. Gruesomely.”

  Kara smiled at Rose, her light blue eyes sparkling with amusement.

  Rose glanced at the princess. “How did you know she liked battle-axes?”

  “I told her,” came a warm, familiar voice—from the opening of the tent.

  Rose and Kara both turned toward the door, as Zosime entered the tent. Like the other Skotalians, Zosime wore a hooded, black cloak over her clothes to keep warm—though, if they were being honest, none of them were dressed warm enough for this weather. Even Kara and Elise, who actually lived in a cold climate, weren’t dressed for this. But they couldn’t exactly go shopping in the middle of a world war—or…well…stealing, in Kara’s case. Most humans were under martial law, now. Or something like it. Certain aspects varied from country to country.

  But the one thing that remained the same was the curfew. Humans didn’t come out at night, anymore. Only military personnel and the Assassins of Light—who had practically taken over the militaries, by this point—came out after dark.

  At night, war raged.

  And too many lives had already been lost.

  “Zosime,” Kara murmured, her voice more purr than tone, “my favorite, clairvoyant eccentric.” Her lips curved into an amused smile. “Good to see you.”

  “I thought you hated vampires with precognitive abilities,” Zosime said.

  “I do,” Kara said, turning, as Zosime circled around them, “which makes it easy for you to be my favorite.” She held up her weapon. “Especially after this.”

  Zosime laughed, “Well, as your lover’s future best friend, I am delighted to look out for you.” Her warm, brown eyes shifted toward Rose. “Both of you.”

  Rose smiled. “Oh, so now it’s not just future friend. It’s future best friend.”

  “The future is rarely constant,” Zosime said with a smile, “my Eklektos.”

  Rose’s smile faded, and her eyebrows lifted. “It is, when it’s nonexistent.”

  Princess Myrinne turned toward Zosime, suddenly, her brows furrowed. “Nonexistent?” she breathed. “Did you see something and not tell me about it?”

  Rose’s eyes widened, as she realized the princess didn’t know. She hadn’t considered the possibility that Zosime had only told her. She would’ve never said anything, if she’d known. But Zosime met her gaze and offered a reassuring smile.

  “Of course not,” Zosime said, her voice surprisingly calm. She turned to the princess, her smile wide. “The Eklektos is just being her lovable, snarky self.”

  “I don’t know if I’d include the snarky part in her lovable traits,” Princess Myrinne muttered under her breath, “but okay.” Her shoulders dropped in relief.

  Rose’s head spun, as she tried to keep up with who all was lying to whom, at this point. “So,” she said, swallowing uneasily, “will we be attacked tomorrow?”

  Zosime’s deep, brown eyes shifted toward her. “How did you know?”

  “Well, we’re getting attacked pretty frequently, at this point,” Rose began, her brows lifting, “but also, Colina said you wanted the warriors to feed tonight.”

  Zosime nodded. “Tomorrow night, we’ll encounter a group of scouts at the Village of the Undead. They’re a totally different unit from those who attacked us tonight. The scouts are on a mission to find out how vulnerable the colony is.”

  Rose frowned worriedly. “They’re going to attack the colony out here?”

  “It’s opportune,” Kara sighed. “The Commanders of Power are all here.”

  Princess Myrinne cast a curious look at Kara. “Commanders of Power?”

  “It’s what we call people like Aaron and Talulah,” Kara said, “and Rose.”

  “No, no. Not Rose,” Rose argued, shaking her head. “Rose is different.”

  “Like it or not, love,” Kara said, her piercing, icy blue eyes shifting Rose’s way, “it’s what you are.” She lifted an eyebrow. “Especially now that you have an army.” Her smile tilted wickedly. “You’re more powerful than any of them now.”

  “It’s not my
army,” Rose said. She turned to Princess Myrinne, assuming she’d deny it, as well, but the princess just stared at her. “Why aren’t you arguing?”

  “Because she’s right,” Princess Myrinne stated. “Our warriors are yours.”

  A small laugh of disbelief escaped Rose’s lips. “You’re joking, right?” she mumbled. Her frown deepened, when no one else laughed. “I mean, I know you let me help with the battle plans, but that’s not…” she trailed off. “You’re joking.”

  “Not at all,” Princess Myrinne told her. She glanced past Rose, through the opening of the tent, where Ligeia waited. She did that often—standing outside until Zosime left the tent. “Ligeia,” she called. She waited until the warrior joined them inside the tent. Then, she told her, “Tell the Eklektos who you answer to.”

  Ligeia stopped beside Rose and Kara—careful to keep her distance from Zosime. “As your sworn warrior,” she said, crossing her arms, “I answer to you.”

  “Before me,” Princess Myrinne said. “Who does our army answer to?”

  “We answer to the Eklektos,” Ligeia confirmed. Her brown eyes shifted toward Rose, and she bowed her head. “Before anyone else, we answer to you.”

  “That’s…insane,” Rose mumbled. “You haven’t even known me a year!”

  “My Eklektos,” Ligeia said with a laugh, “we’ve been ready to follow you for the last ten thousand years. These last several months haven’t changed that.”

  “Ten thousand years,” Rose repeated, breathless from shock. “But why?”

  A tense silence filled the tent, and Rose realized, as she glanced from one person to another, noticing similar expressions on all of their faces, that this was it—the secret they all kept from her. “Oh,” Rose said, turning her narrowed gaze on Kara. “I forgot. I’m the only one not allowed to know the truth about myself.”

  Kara made eye-contact with Rose, her own stare cold and unrelenting.

  The tension didn’t ease until Zosime broke the silence. “You were always meant to lead this war,” she said, her lips curving at the corners, “my Eklektos.”

  Rose glanced at her, grateful for the answer—even if it wasn’t the whole truth. Even the smallest gap in the dishonesty was a relief. “Was I meant to win it?”