The Reign of Darkness

by Britney Jackson

  “Are you,” Talulah asked, “the most powerful? Compared to Rose?”

  Everyone in the room froze, suddenly. They stared at her with wide eyes. Even Hector straightened, clutching the side of his head, as he gaped at Talulah.

  Rage flashed in Aaron’s dark eyes. Before, he’d seemed nonchalant, even in his violence—tearing off a body part simply to make a statement. But now, his anger radiated from him, as he took a step forward, growling lowly. “Excuse me?”

  Talulah shrugged her wide shoulders. “I’m just saying,” she said. A smile curved at her lips. “How would we know? When she hasn’t challenged you. Yet.”

  That last word drew a dangerous growl from Aaron. “Yet?” he snarled.

  Hector glanced back and forth between them, still holding the side of his head. Under his breath, he mumbled, “That has to be worth more than an ear.”

  “Yet,” Talulah repeated, unflinching under Aaron’s homicidal glare. Her lips curved into a smile, as she watched hatred seethe within his dark eyes. Sighing, she turned toward the door. “I have to check in with my warriors. They’ll be ready for a shift-change by now.” She ignored the vicious snarl that Aaron directed her way. “I’ll bring back some drinks. Maybe a bit of whiskey will calm you all down.”

  Aaron grasped her arm as she tried to step past him, jerking her to a stop.

  Taller than him by about two inches, Talulah glanced down at the ancient vampire. “If you’re going to kill me, at least let me get the drinks first,” she sighed. “We’ll never make it through the vote, if you all keep dismembering each other.”

  Aaron didn’t let go of her, but he didn’t tear her head from her shoulders, either. Which was a good sign, at least. “I should’ve had Kara put a blade through your throat when she was in your bed,” he growled, “instead of leaving you alive.”

  “Yeah, well,” Talulah said bitterly, “she did put one in my stomach.”

  Aaron released her. “I’m coming with you. I don’t trust you not to run.”

  “Fine,” Talulah muttered, opening the door. “You can carry the drinks.”

  —

  “Do you have a death wish or something?” Aaron said. He leaned against the wall, watching as Talulah scanned the shelves. Pure hatred burned in his dark eyes. “You must—to insult a vampire who is four thousand years older than you.”

  Talulah held out a bottle of whiskey. “Here. Mix blood with that, and it’ll make anyone’s head spin,” she offered. When Aaron didn’t take it, she sighed and turned toward him. “Aaron, I founded a vampire colony in North America—far away from you, far away from anyone who might feel threatened by me. I minded my own business. I earned my power the honorable way—not through bloodshed and treachery, but by creating a place where vampires felt welcome and respected. I never insulted you or challenged you, and yet, still, you sent Kara to betray me.”

  He rolled his eyes. “Stop acting like you didn’t know her reputation. You knew what she was like, and you still let her in your bed. That’s your own fault.”

  “She’s good at what she does,” Talulah sighed. “You knew that. It’s why you sent her.” She shrugged. “But I learned my lesson. I’ll never trust you again.”

  “I didn’t tell her to seduce you,” Aaron said. “I assumed you were smart enough to know better.” He flashed a cruel, condescending smile. “Clearly not.”

  Talulah’s dark eyes narrowed. “My point was,” she said through clenched teeth, “I did nothing to you, and you still sent your best to sabotage me. So, now, I’m doing something. I’ve had a lot of time to think about it, and I think the reason you were threatened by me is that people actually wanted to follow me. My power paled in comparison to yours, but my people were loyal. Yours never have been.”

  Aaron glared at her. “Kara betrayed the woman she loved for me.”

  “Who? Alana?” Talulah scoffed. “The woman who hurt her constantly?”

  “She’ll betray Rose, too,” Aaron said assuredly, “as soon as I demand it.”

  “Probably,” she said. “I doubt Kara has the emotional capacity to choose her lover over her pride, but…it is odd that she hasn’t returned to you, isn’t it?”

  A deadly growl resounded from Aaron’s throat. “She’ll answer for that.”

  “Will she?” Talulah said. “Will that be before or after she betrays Rose?”

  His already-dark eyes darkened even more—until they looked fully black, the dark brown iris overtaken by dilated pupils. “That’s none of your concern.”

  “Oh, but it is,” Talulah told him, “because if we do survive this war, I’m taking my power back. I never sought to be the most powerful leader in the world, but I won’t be the weakest, either. Not anymore. Rose Foster tips the scales.” Her thin, black braids fell forward, over her coat, as she leaned closer. “What I had—what you felt so threatened by—Rose has that and more. Her friends are so loyal that we don’t even know where they are—only that they’re with her. People trust her. They believe in her. I had loyalty but no power. Rose has loyalty and power.”

  He scoffed at her. “You actually think Rose stands a chance against me?”

  With a low, warm chuckle, Talulah said, “Oh, I’m not the only one who thinks so.” Her lips curved at the edges. “The others are just too afraid to say it.”

  Aaron attacked her so suddenly that she barely had any time to react, but she’d expected it—so she already had her arm out to her side, protecting the glass bottle in her hand from getting shattered between them. She stared down at him, not a trace of fear in her dark brown eyes, as Aaron dug his fingers into her throat.

  “Careful,” Talulah said, her voice strained. “The whiskey’s expensive.”

  Aaron growled, “Give me one reason that I shouldn’t kill you right now.”

  Talulah leaned her head back against the shelf behind her. “There aren’t enough votes without mine,” she said, as he loosened his grip. “If you care about peace, if you want to save humans, you’ll need my vote. You’ll need Rose’s, too.”

  Aaron let out a condescending laugh. “Who said I cared about peace?”

  “It’s more what you didn’t say—than what you did,” Talulah said, taking him by surprise. “You prevented war for thousands of years. You obviously care.”

  He released her. “I’m ancient,” he muttered. “I’m not a fan of change.”

  Talulah lifted a dark eyebrow. “I don’t care about your reasons—as long as you’re voting against genocide,” she told him. “But there aren’t enough of us—not without Rose.” Her brows furrowed. “She would vote with us, wouldn’t she?”

  “Yeah,” Aaron sighed. “She still has this…weird attachment to humans.”

  “Good,” Talulah said. “You need to convince the others to wait for her.”

  His eyes narrowed. “You must be insane—telling me what I need to do.”

  “They won’t listen to me,” she reminded him, “but they’d listen to you.”

  Aaron looked up at her. “Do you know why they won’t listen to you?”

  “Because they see me as weak,” Talulah said, “thanks to you and Kara.”

  “No,” Aaron said, his tone surprisingly serious. “They won’t listen to you because you’re not listening to them. You’re not trying to see their point of view.”

  She wrinkled her nose at what he was suggesting. “They want genocide!”

  “But have you even considered why?” Aaron asked. He shook his head, breathing out a frustrated sigh. “You don’t understand what they feel. How could you? You haven’t lost your colony. You’ve been out here—safe from the attacks.”

  Talulah scowled at his disapproving tone. “You’ve been out here, too.”

  “Yes, but I watched my colony suffer, first,” Aaron told her. “The Tomb of Blood was the first one to suffer because of this war. I lost most of my colony.”

  “That was because of Alana,” she argued. “The war hadn’t started yet.”

  “Ye
s, it had,” he said. “We didn’t know it yet, but that was the start.” He sighed. “Wars don’t begin with battles. They begin behind the scenes. Alana knew that. I led the largest colony in the world, and I watched our numbers drop into the hundreds in one night—with one attack. You don’t know what that feels like.”

  Talulah stared at him, her gaze dark and cold. “You expect me to believe you cared about them?” she scoffed. “The only thing you care about is power.”

  Aaron didn’t deny it. “No. I didn’t grieve for them or anything,” he said, rolling his eyes, as if that would be absurd. He looked away. “But…I created the Tomb of Blood to be a place of shelter and companionship. Vampires don’t have homes or families. If we want that, we have to create it ourselves. Out in human society, we have to hide what we are. It was necessary—for the survival of both species—but necessary doesn’t mean easy. It’s crushing to hide what you are. The Tomb of Blood was a place where that wasn’t necessary. It was a safe place, where vampires could be themselves. It was home and companionship for thousands of our kind—until Alana ripped it all apart.” His dark gaze shifted toward Talulah. “You haven’t had to watch your colony be ripped apart. The other leaders have.”

  Talulah blinked, stunned by his sincerity. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you cared about something,” she sighed. “I know we’ve suffered some great losses in this war, but we’re not innocent, either. We killed humans for centuries.”

  “More than centuries,” Aaron said without a hint of remorse in his voice. “Many millennia. Perhaps since the dawn of time. Who knows? But that’s just it. Humans are our food. They always have been. We kill to eat—just like they do.”

  “My colony doesn’t kill humans,” she argued. “We feed from vampires.”

  “Only because you’re in the middle of fucking nowhere,” Aaron scoffed, rolling his eyes at her self-righteous attitude. A cruel smile curled at the edges of his lips. “Are you really that stupid? You think your followers aren’t feeding from humans when they travel? Oh, I’ve seen plenty of evidence that says otherwise.”

  Both anger and shock poured through her, in contrasting waves of hot and cold—anger simmering inside, like boiling water, while shock cooled her skin, like ice. “You’re lying,” Talulah said. “My followers believe in peace, not murder.”

  “We’re vampires. We kill. It’s our nature,” he said. “If you don’t believe me, I’ll have Kara show you the pictures—of the messes your followers made.”

  Talulah looked away, unnerved by the thought. “How did she get them?”

  “Spies,” Aaron said. “Don’t worry. We tied up the loose ends for you.”

  Talulah sighed, disappointment weighing down on her chest. “It doesn’t change my point,” she said in a defeated tone. “Vampires are far from innocent.”

  “Yes, but the difference is,” Aaron reminded her, “when the choice was between killing off the entire human race and retreating to the shadows, we chose the shadows. We let the humans think the world was theirs. We cursed ourselves to this existence because we knew humans would never coexist with us. For years, we’ve watched humans, who know nothing of time and its consequences, destroy this world in the name of greed—knowing that we could do so much better.”

  Talulah glanced at him, considering that. “You sound like the others.”

  “I’m trying to make you see their side,” Aaron explained. “It makes a lot more sense than you want to admit.” His dark eyes narrowed. “Monsters or not—we showed humans more tolerance than they showed us. They bombed three of our colonies in one night. Two more, later that week. They didn’t try to negotiate peace—because they don’t want peace! They want genocide. So, why don’t we?”

  “I…” Talulah trailed off, suddenly at a loss for words. “We’re different.”

  “Maybe,” Aaron said, “but that difference has given them an advantage.”

  Her brows furrowed. Her confidence waned, as she considered all of the colonies they’d lost. Guilt spread through her stomach, as she wondered if it had been their own fault—if they’d brought this on themselves, by letting the human race rule the world for so long. Talulah started to wonder if the others were right.

  “People, like you, Rose, and Kallias, act like it’s a bad thing that I’m cold and unfeeling,” he said, “but I protected our kind for thousands of years. Feelings would’ve complicated that. Our responsibility is to our own kind—not humans.”

  A door opened in the cabin above them, the howling wind rushing inside.

  Aaron looked up toward the top of the ladder—alert and ready to attack.

  But Talulah just sniffed the air and said, “It’s my warrior—Mila Gagon.”

  Aaron lifted an eyebrow, as he realized, “You’ve shared blood with her.”

  “I have to share blood with someone,” she said dismissively. She looked up, watching as the warrior—clad in white armor—climbed down the ladder. Her long, brown hair fell to her lower back, bound in a single, tight braid. “You’re late for your shift change,” she said, as she helped Mila down. “Where are the others?”

  Mila turned toward her. She glanced from Aaron to Talulah, making sure Talulah was in no danger, before answering, “The humans sent a team of scouts.”

  Talulah straightened, her eyes widening. “Did they attack our warriors?”

  “They did,” Mila said. But before Talulah could rush outside, she added, “but we won. With help.” She winced a little, as Talulah pinned her with a scowl.

  “What do you mean with help?” Talulah growled. “Spit it out, Mila.”

  Mila shrank back a little. “You should come out and see for yourself.”

  Talulah exchanged a puzzled look with Aaron. “Tell me what happened.”

  Mila tapped her fingers against the weapon at her waist. “You remember how you told me to come to you immediately, when the last commander arrived?”

  “Rose Foster,” Talulah said, eyebrows lifting. “You’re saying she’s here?”

  “Yes,” Mila confirmed. She fidgeted nervously. “But she’s not alone.”

  19

  The Alliance

  “Tell them I’m your advisor,” Princess Myrinne said. “Nothing more.”

  Rose frowned at that. “You don’t want anyone to know you’re royalty?”

  “They don’t need that much information,” the princess said. “Not yet.”

  To everyone’s surprise, Kara agreed with the princess. “She has a point,” Kara told Rose. “If you tell them about the kingdom, you have to reveal their age, and Aaron still believes he’s the oldest vampire alive.” A sly smile graced her lips, one corner of her mouth lifting. “Let’s hold onto our little surprise a bit longer.”

  Rose’s brows furrowed. “What am I supposed to tell them, then? That I found a stray army on the side of the road and adopted it? They’re not puppies.”

  Princess Myrinne squinted a little—the way she always did, when she was trying to use her limited knowledge of modern culture. “You adopt stray wolves?”

  “Dogs,” Rose said. “You do know about domesticated dogs, don’t you?”

  “I had a wolf once,” Kara said. When Rose and Princess Myrinne glanced her way, she added, “Oh. I just mean I fed him. I didn’t keep him in my home.”

  An amused smile curved at the corners of Rose’s lips. “Was he cute?”

  “You’re asking if the massive, feral wolf was cute?” Kara said, lifting an eyebrow. Her light blue eyes sparkled with amusement. “I’m sure you’d think so.”

  Rose smiled at the thought—while the princess glanced back and forth between them, her brows furrowed, as if she thought they both might be insane.

  “You should say nothing,” Kara said, finally returning to the subject. She offered Rose a wry smile. “Silence would be less suspicious than one of your lies.”

  Rose narrowed her eyes at Kara’s teasing. “Aww. You’re so sweet to me.”

  Kara chuckled at the sarc
asm. “You know I’m right, though.” The battle-axe dragged by her side, as she stepped closer to Rose. With her free hand, Kara tugged at the sleeve of Rose’s hoodie, pulling her closer. “You’re hilariously bad.”

  Rose flashed her sassiest smile. “What’s with all of the flattery tonight?”

  Kara slipped her fingers underneath the sleeve of Rose’s hoodie, causing Rose to shiver, as Kara’s cool fingers met her skin. Even inside the tent, it was so cold that their exposed skin felt icy. “Aaron doesn’t need to know that there are any vampires older than he is. We need to keep that trick up our sleeves for later.”

  “We’re fighting the Assassins of Light. Not Aaron,” Rose reminded her. “You’re his second-in-command. Why would you need to use trickery on him?”

  “Oh, Rose,” Kara said playfully, “you can never have too much trickery.”

  Wind rushed into the tent, suddenly, as someone ripped back the fabric and rushed inside. They turned to find Mila standing there, her long, brown braid thrown halfway over her shoulder, causing her to look slightly disheveled. “She’s coming,” she warned them, her voice low. “She wanted to see you immediately.”

  “Just Talulah?” Kara said. “None of the other commanders are coming?”

  Mila opened her mouth to answer—but then shut it again—as the sound of boots crunching in snow grew louder, until they heard it right outside the tent.

  Talulah stormed into their tent, her long coat swaying around her figure. Without so much as a hello, she said, “Can someone explain to me why there are dismembered bodies outside my colony?” When her dark, narrowed gaze landed on the battle-axe in Kara’s hand, she rolled her eyes. “Right. I should’ve known.”