That wicked spark in Kara’s piercing, blue eyes seemed to fade away for a moment, as she trailed her gaze over the soft, perfect curves of Alana’s face, and a deeper, more powerful emotion took its place—an emotion that Alana had never seen directed toward her. “And,” Kara said, leaning closer, her voice no more than a soft, lilting whisper, “I see pain in your eyes that I want to soothe.”
Alana’s breath caught in her throat, suddenly overwhelmed by unfamiliar feelings that blossomed inside her chest. She couldn’t remember a time in her life when she’d felt like that, but now that she’d had a taste, she knew that it wasn’t enough. She needed more. She needed more of what this dark warrior had to offer. She grabbed Kara’s chainmail armor and pulled her closer, and then, she claimed the warrior’s lips with her own, exploring the soft warmth of her mouth.
“Come with me,” Alana said, pulling back. “We’ll go someplace warm.”
Kara leaned against the tree. “I can’t,” she sighed. “They’re expecting…”
“They killed your lover,” Alana reminded her, hissing the words through her sharp teeth. Kara blinked in surprise as she gazed at those teeth, as she briefly glimpsed the unusually long canines. “They don’t deserve you. You’re mine now.”
Kara tilted her head to the side, her messy, dirty-blonde hair falling over her armor. “Yours?” she repeated with a wary smile, assuming it had been a joke.
“You’re lying, anyway, just as you always do,” Alana continued, a hint of anger in her dark blue eyes. “You’re not going back to them. You’ll kill yourself as soon as I leave. I can’t let you do that. Not when I need something from you.”
Kara blinked, mesmerized and confused. “What do you need from me?”
Alana leaned in closer, the warmth of her breath dancing across Kara’s lips. “Everything you gave to her,” she whispered against her lips, “and more.”
Kara frowned at her. “What if that part of me is broken beyond repair?”
Alana cupped her hands around the warrior’s blood-stained face. “Then, we’ll make a good pair,” she said, “because I was broken beyond repair long ago.”
No Rest for the Weary
1,406 years later…
Rose awoke to the sensation of warm, wet tears on her face. She lifted her hands and ran her fingers over her cheeks, frowning when her fingers came back dry. It took her a moment to realize that the sadness that weighed heavily against her chest, suffocating her, was not her own, and that the tears she felt leaking from her eyes were not her own. She sat up in the bed, the sheets pooling around her waist. She glanced at Kallias, who lay on his side, sleeping, beside her, his arm draped casually around her waist. Then, she glanced at the other bed.
Kara wasn’t there.
Rose gently pushed Kallias’s heavy arm off of her and climbed out of bed. The marble floor felt cold beneath her bare feet, still a little wet where it had been mopped earlier. Rose crossed the dark room as quietly as possible and eased open the door. She found Kara outside in the hallway, sitting against the crimson-red wall, her knees drawn up to her chest, her face pillowed against her knees.
A curtain of sleek, black and blue hair shielded her tear-soaked face.
When Rose stepped into the hallway, Kara’s entire body seemed to freeze for a moment. Kara turned her face away from Rose, dragging her face against her knees, discreetly wiping the tears away. Rose sat down in the floor, beside her.
“Rose,” Kara murmured, still staring in the opposite direction. Her voice sounded softer than usual—sad and broken. “The sun is up. Why are you awake?”
Rose stared at Kara, her heart shattering at the sight of the strong, playful vampire in so much pain. “You gave me your blood, remember? I felt your pain.”
“I know,” Kara said regretfully, “and I’m sorry you have to feel this.”
“Don’t be,” Rose told her. “I don’t want you to have to feel it alone.”
Kara turned, finally, to look at Rose. The skin beneath her eyes looked bruised and sunken—side-effects of being awake during the day—and swollen from all of the tears she’d shed in the last few hours. “I need to be alone, Rose.”
“I think you’re lying,” Rose accused. “I think you don’t want anyone to see you cry. As for what you need,” she paused and reached out, wiping a tear from Kara’s face with her thumb. “I think what you need is a shoulder to cry on.”
Kara instinctually leaned into Rose’s touch, and her eyes fluttered closed.
That one affectionate action caused an intense, unexpected shudder to travel over Rose’s body as her blood bond reacted to Kara’s touch. Rose instantly jerked her hand back, as if she’d been burned, her bright blue eyes widening.
Kara opened her eyes, and a dark, seductive smile curved at her lips as she watched Rose’s reaction. Kara unfolded her long legs, stretching them out in front of her, as she shifted into a more comfortable position. Rose’s gaze followed the movement, trailing over the mostly bare skin of Kara’s thighs. Kara had worn a thin, black tank top and a pair of black boxers to bed, and the boxers rode up around her thighs now, revealing a small portion of the tattoo on her inner thigh.
Rose felt overheated suddenly, and her skin looked flushed, as if she’d been running. “This blood bond is,” she paused, swallowing uneasily, “intense.”
“Is it?” Kara said, her light blue eyes darkening with lust. She reached out and touched Rose’s face, trailing her fingertips over Rose’s cheek, along the soft curve of her jaw, down to her neck, watching as Rose shuddered at her touch.
Rose grasped her wrist to stop her. “Why is it so intense?” she gasped.
“You already know the answer to that question,” Kara reminded her.
Rose swallowed nervously as she remembered what Elise had said—that the blood bond only intensifies the emotional connection that already exists. So, if her blood bond with Kara was this intense, that would mean that her feelings for Kara were… No, Rose thought. She couldn’t think about that. “No, I don’t.”
Kara shifted toward Rose, climbing onto her knees and leaning forward, almost like an animal preparing to pounce, and then, she cradled Rose’s face in her hands. She tilted her face forward, her lips brushing lightly against Rose’s lips.
The warmth of her breath caressed Rose’s lips as she whispered, “Liar.”
Rose opened her mouth to argue, but Kara used that opportunity to kiss her, sliding her tongue into Rose’s open mouth. Rose moaned, instantly forgetting her argument and…pretty much everything else, except for Kara and the way Kara’s mouth felt against hers. Her blood responded to Kara’s kiss, igniting an overwhelming, fiery hunger inside of her, setting fire to every part of her body.
Kara moved forward, straddling Rose’s flannel-clad legs, bracing her left knee on the right side of Rose’s hips and sliding her right leg between Rose’s thighs, her bare thigh brushing against Rose in just the right spot. When Rose moaned at the sensation, she felt Kara’s lips curve into a smile against her own.
The strength of the blood bond overpowered any part of Rose that might have resisted, any part that could have resisted. The reasonable part of her melted away, leaving the more animalistic part of her, the part that acted on her wants and needs. And the truth was: Rose wanted Kara very much, and Rose needed this.
Kara slid her hands down to Rose’s neck and then down to the collar of Rose’s red and black flannel pajama shirt. She leaned into Rose, her lean, athletic body pressing against Rose’s softer, curvier body, as she unbuttoned Rose’s shirt with a swiftness and gracefulness that Rose never could have managed. She trailed her lips down to Rose’s jaw, then to her neck, then to her exposed collarbone.
As Kara’s hot, persistent lips trailed kisses down the front of her chest, her light, gentle fingers moved over the soft skin of Rose’s stomach, down to the waistband of her pajama pants. Rose tilted her head back against the wall, lost in the pleasurable intensity of the sensations. It was so easy to forget
it all—the guilt, the pain, the sadness, the entire terrible night—everything, except for the softness of Kara’s touch and the heat of her mouth. And she desperately wanted to forget.
Kara’s mouth found Rose’s breast at the exact moment that her fingers found their way into Rose’s pajama pants, sliding gently over her underwear.
Rose moaned at the sensation, her back arching, her body seeking out Kara’s touch. Even as she surrendered to the pleasure of Kara’s touch, she ached to feel Kara’s skin under her hands and mouth, as well. She reached out and…
And the sound of a door opening shattered the pleasant disorientation.
Rose opened her eyes, blinking in shock as she saw a tall, muscular man, behind Kara, walking toward them. She recognized his broad shoulders and rich, dark skin before he reached them. It was the bartender, Tom—the one Rose had saved the night before. He wore a pair of gray sweatpants and nothing else, and his eyes drooped sleepily as he dragged his feet down the hallway, toward them.
Kara slipped her hand out of Rose’s pants and turned to look at him.
“Sorry,” Tom said with a sleepy smile. He continued walking, even as he spoke to them. “Didn’t mean to interrupt. I’m just headed to Kristoffer’s room to see if he needs more blood. He was injured pretty badly last night. Carry on.”
Kara watched as he passed them and continued walking down the hall.
But Tom’s interruption had provided the time for two things to register in Rose’s mind. First, they were kind of making out in the middle of the hallway.
You know…just a little.
And second, Kallias…
As Kara’s lips brushed against hers again, Rose reluctantly said, “I can’t.”
Kara pulled back, concern burning in her icy blue eyes. “What’s wrong?”
“Well, first of all, I came out here to comfort you,” Rose said with a soft laugh, “because you were sad. I’m not really sure how that turned into this, but…”
“But you are comforting me,” Kara told her. “You’re making me forget.”
“I don’t think that’s how it works,” Rose said sympathetically. “Besides, it’s not just that. It’s also…Kallias. I can’t hurt him, Kara. I’m sorry. I really am.”
Kara just watched her, a strange look on her face. She seemed so much softer and sadder than usual. “Don’t you ever wonder what it would be like?”
Rose laughed. “You’re trying to appeal to my curiosity now?” she teased.
“Cute,” Kara said with a weak smile. But then, her smile faded, and she suddenly looked so exposed, so vulnerable, so…real. “But…I’m serious, actually. What if… What if this thing between us is real? What if it’s the most authentic thing we have ever felt? What if we could actually make each other happy?”
Rose’s lips parted in surprise. “Kara,” she breathed, “this isn’t like you.”
“Alana died tonight. The woman I’ve loved for fourteen hundred years,” Kara said hollowly. “And you’re leaving soon. And I’m just starting to…wonder.”
Rose tilted her head to the side, empathy burning in her bright blue eyes. “I do think it would be real,” she admitted, “but it doesn’t change the fact that…”
“You love Kallias,” Kara interrupted, finishing her sentence for her.
Rose nodded sadly. “I already feel horrible about…this. I can’t hurt him.”
Kara rocked back on her feet and stood. “Of course,” she said. “Just forget everything I said. I didn’t mean any of it. I’m just…not myself tonight.”
Rose stared up at Kara, her brows furrowing, as she tried to decipher the emotions that she sensed in Kara. There was pain—so much pain—but it was different somehow. It didn’t feel the same as the pain that she’d sensed earlier.
Kara turned and walked back into the bedroom.
Rose scrambled to her feet and followed after her. “Kara,” she called.
Kara glanced at her. “It’s fine, Rose. I understand. You don’t want to jeopardize what you have with Kallias for a possibility with me. It makes sense.”
“I’m afraid I’ve hurt you now,” Rose said, “and I don’t want that either.”
“You haven’t,” Kara lied. “The pain that you’re sensing in me right now is because of Alana. I loved her, despite everything. I shouldn’t have…but I did.”
“I’m so sorry, Kara,” Rose said sincerely. “I’m sorry that you’re hurting.”
Kara looked away, trying to ignore the warmth that unfurled in her chest when Rose said things like that. The kindness that Rose showed her made her feel all kinds of happy feelings, and that only strengthened the longing she already felt for Rose. And she had to stop longing for a woman that she could never have.
“You have a voicemail,” Kara said, staring at the phone on the desk.
Rose glanced at the desk that set against the opposite wall. Her phone lay on top of the cluttered desk, its screen lit up with a notification. She walked over to it and picked it up, frowning at the notifications on the screen. “Audrey?”
Kara joined her beside the desk. “What’s wrong? You sound worried.”
“My best friend called,” Rose said nervously. “She’s the one that I told you about. She hates me now…because I’m a vampire. Why would she call me?”
“Maybe she called to apologize,” Kara said with a sympathetic frown.
Rose glanced up at Kara, her brows creasing with worry. “I doubt it.”
Kara leaned against the desk and crossed her arms. “Go ahead and listen to the message,” she advised. “If she says anything cruel, I’ll make her regret it.”
Rose’s eyes widened. “What? No. You will not!” she argued.
Kara laughed. “I was only kidding,” she assured Rose, “kind of.”
Rose scowled at that last part, but she pressed the phone against her ear anyway, listening to the voicemail message that Audrey had left. Her eyes widened when she heard Audrey whisper, “Rose, I need help,” into the phone. The message ended abruptly after that, and Rose immediately dialed Audrey’s phone number.
Her pulse skyrocketed, her heart beating so harshly and so rapidly against her chest that Rose could barely breathe. She waited as the dial tone rang over and over and over, and then, she heard Audrey’s familiar voicemail greeting.
“I need her full name and location,” Kara said quietly.
Rose ended the call and looked at Kara, frowning as she noticed that Kara was typing something in her own phone. “Audrey Stevens. Florida. Why?”
“I have people in America,” Kara said. “I’ll send someone to watch her.”
Rose sighed, “She’ll never forgive me if I let someone stalk her, Kara.”
Kara looked up from her phone, frowning at Rose. “Don’t think of them as stalkers. Think of them as…secret bodyguards. Clearly, she’s in trouble. She’ll need protection until you can get to her. I know of people who can provide that.”
Rose chewed on her lips worriedly. “I doubt she will see it that way.”
“I need you to ask yourself one question,” Kara said, her voice firm but patient. “Would you rather have her like you, or would you rather have her alive?”
“Point taken,” Rose sighed. “What else do you need? Her address?”
Kara nodded. She handed Rose her phone. “Type it into that message.”
Rose typed the familiar street address into the text message—the same address that she’d lived at until she became a vampire. She glanced curiously at the contact at the top of the message, but there was no name, only a number.
Rose handed the phone back to Kara. “Who are you sending that to?”
“Someone who works for me,” Kara told her. “A human.”
Rose raised an eyebrow. “Is that all you’re going to tell me?”
Kara finished typing the message. “A spymaster never reveals her spies.”
“Not even to me?” Rose said with a wry smile.
Kara’s lips twitched in amusemen
t. “Sorry, ást. It’s nothing personal.”
Rose stared at her for a moment. “Erik told me what that means—ást.”
Kara’s smile faded, and her light blue eyes widened—like a deer caught in the headlights. She glared at Erik, even though he was still asleep and obviously couldn’t see the look that she was giving him. “Traitor,” she said under her breath.
“He said it means love,” Rose said, studying her reaction, “or beloved.”
“It’s just a term of endearment,” Kara muttered. “It means nothing.”
“Right,” Rose acknowledged, “but does it mean nothing to you?”
Kara looked at her, and a hint of pain flashed in her icy blue eyes. “Don’t go down that road,” she said, “not when you already know you’re going to leave.”
Rose felt a sudden stab of pain in her chest. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”
“Stop apologizing,” Kara sighed. “You haven’t done anything wrong.”
Rose felt the phone vibrating in her hand, and she glanced down at the screen, breathing out a small sigh of relief when she saw the name on the screen.
“It’s your friend?” Kara assumed.
Rose nodded and lifted the phone to her ear. “Hello?” she answered.
“Rose,” Audrey sighed into the phone, “how quickly can you get here?”
Kara’s gaze shifted away, toward the floor. “I’ll give you some privacy so you can talk to her,” she told Rose quietly. “I need to take a shower, anyway.”
Rose watched her with a frown as she headed toward the bathroom. Rose started to point out that Kara had just showered a few hours ago, but before she could, she heard Audrey calling her name. “Yeah, I’m still here,” she mumbled.
Kara stepped into the bathroom and closed the door behind her, leaning against it for a moment. Then, she pushed away from the door and walked over to the shower. She leaned in and turned on the water so that Rose would hear the water running. Then, she sank to the floor and drew her knees up to her chest.
She told herself that the sadness that she felt now, weighing down on her chest, suffocating her, was simply her grief for Alana. Even after everything that Alana had done to her, despite how screwed up she was because of Alana’s manipulation and abuse—or maybe because of it—she still loved Alana. And losing the woman she loved after fourteen hundred years was bound to hurt like this. But Kara couldn’t help but wonder: if this pain was only because of Alana, then why did it hurt so much worse when she thought about saying goodbye to Rose?
The Assassins of Light Page 2
