The Assassins of Light

by Britney Jackson

  Rose tried to hide the smile that tugged at the corners of her lips. She stepped forward and held out her hand so that Kara could drop the velvety flower into her open palm. The soft, blood-red petals unfurled beautifully across her palm. Somehow, even though it had fallen from a decaying bush, the flower had blossomed perfectly. Rose bent her head and inhaled its gentle, pleasant scent.

  Kara watched her with a smile. “Roses are such strong flowers, don’t you think?” she murmured. “They’re so soft, and they smell so nice. But they can also pierce you so deeply.” As she said that, she reached out and pressed her forefinger against one of the thorns of the rose bush, causing it to sink into her fingertip.

  Rose looked up, her eyes widening, as the autumn air filled with the scent of Kara’s blood. Her hunger reacted vehemently to the sweet, enticing scent, and her mouth watered as she watched the drop of blood surface on Kara’s fingertip. Her instincts drove her closer to the blood. “What are you doing?” she breathed.

  Kara’s smile deepened. “Tempting you,” she said. She held out her hand, offering the drop of blood to Rose. “Go ahead. Taste it. I know you want it.”

  Rose watched the drop of blood slide over Kara’s long, slender finger, her breath coming faster, her stomach twisting with ravenous hunger. Her blood bond with Kara called her toward the blood, and without thinking, she closed the space between them. “I…I can’t,” she said breathlessly. “You know I can’t.”

  “What would it hurt?” Kara asked softly. “You’re already bound to me.”

  Rose watched the steady pulse of Kara’s neck, her gaze darkening with hunger. “You know what happened the last time I tasted you,” she said uneasily.

  “It was amazing, and the next time will be even better,” Kara told her.

  Rose licked her lips. “I can’t,” she sighed. “Kallias already hates me.”

  “If you want him, why haven’t you fed from him?” Kara asked curiously, her brows furrowing, as she studied Rose. “Why haven’t you broken our bond?”

  Rose shrugged. “I don’t think he wants me to feed from him right now.”

  Kara’s frown deepened. She lifted her finger to her lips and licked the drop of blood from it. “Rose,” she said worriedly, “Alana used to do that to me.”

  Rose watched the shadows of the trees dance across Kara’s pale skin, the leaves rustling in the cool, autumn wind. “She used to do what to you?”

  “Starve me,” Kara said. “She used to starve me when she was angry.”

  Rose shook her head. “That’s not what he’s doing. It’s only been one day since I fed last, and…he’s not obligated to let me feed from him any more than I’m obligated to let anyone feed from me. It’s his choice. Kallias isn’t like Alana.”

  Kara nodded. “Of course not. I’m sorry if I’m generalizing. But psychic abilities and personalities are linked. Telepaths have manipulative tendencies, in the same way that empaths tend to be emotional and rash. Case in point: Erik.”

  Rose cracked a small smile at that. “Is that why he’s a womanizing pig?”

  Kara laughed, “Nah. I think that’s just a Viking thing.” She crossed her arms across her chest, causing the lean muscles in her arms to tighten. “Our men didn’t know the meaning of manners,” she joked. “For that matter, neither do I.”

  Rose’s lips twitched in amusement as Kara angled a lascivious smirk at her. “Kallias isn’t trying to manipulate me,” she assured her. “He’s changed since I died, and I know I’m to blame for that. But…he hasn’t changed that much.”

  Kara nodded. “Okay,” she said gently. “I trust your judgement.”

  Rose smiled. “Why did you give me this?” she asked. She held out her hand, the rose balanced in her palm. “Because…if you’re trying to seduce me…”

  “I’m not,” Kara interrupted. “It’s just a gift.” The pale moonlight danced across her face, revealing the lines of sympathy in her expression. “You and Alana are similar in that way, you know. You can’t fathom that someone might want to give you something…just because we like to see you smile. No strings attached.”

  Rose felt her heart jump inside her chest, fluttering with anxiety, aching with the pain of her memories. Her bright blue gaze shifted toward the soft, red rose in her hand. “Research shows that things that happen to us during the early years of our life affect our emotional health long-term,” she rambled nervously.

  Kara smiled. “I love your quirks,” she said quietly, almost as if she were talking to herself. “The way you recite facts to make things more impersonal, to hide your pain. But you needn’t hide your pain from me, ást. I can always see it.”

  Rose swallowed. “I guess…I’m saying,” she stammered, “that…I learned to see myself in a certain way, and now, it’s just hard to see myself any differently.”

  Kara watched Rose, sympathy burning in her light blue eyes. She reached out and tucked a windswept lock of red hair behind Rose’s ear. “Tell me, love,” she whispered, so quietly that no one else would’ve heard her, “how many times did someone have to tell you that you were worthless before you believed it?”

  Rose felt her eyes stinging with unshed tears. Her heart pounded so hard that she felt as if it were echoing throughout the entire park, and the emotion that welled up in her throat left her unable to speak. She looked down, hiding her face, as she felt the tears threatening to spill out. “I don’t know. Probably…hundreds.”

  Kara stepped closer, curling her hand beneath Rose’s chin, lifting Rose’s face, until her wet, azure-blue eyes met Kara’s gaze. “Then, I will tell you, thousands of times, that you are not worthless. I’ll tell you that you are beautiful, strong, brave, and absolutely amazing, as many times as I have to, until you believe it.”

  For several, long moments, silence stretched between them, interrupted only by the hoots of owls and the songs of insects. Rose stared at Kara, her chest heaving from the intensity of the emotions rushing through her—the fluttery warmth that unfurled in her chest, spreading through her body, filling her up with happiness and fear. “You said this was strictly business. But now, you’re giving me flowers and saying things that make me want to kiss you. It’s…confusing.”

  Kara smiled. “Say that part again. The part about wanting to kiss me.”

  Rose blushed. “Did I say that? I don’t even know what I’m saying right now. I’m mostly just trying not to…uh…embarrass myself. Clearly, I’m failing.”

  Kara laughed. Then, with a soft, affectionate smile, she stepped forward, tilting her face closer to Rose’s, her eyes sliding closed, their lips almost meeting.

  “You said,” Rose repeated breathlessly, “that this was strictly business.”

  Kara leaned back on her heels, an amused smile twitching at the corners of her lips. “Yes. Business,” she murmured. “We’ll save the kissing for later.”

  Rose watched as Kara stepped back. Her blood buzzed with attraction, still, and that gorgeous, unfazed smirk on Kara’s face didn’t help matters. “Later?”

  “You want me, remember?” Kara teased. “You can’t fight it forever.”

  Rose shrugged off her black backpack and set it on the ground in front of her. Her long, thick, auburn hair fell over her face as she leaned over the bag, sifting through its contents, in search of something. “I don’t know. I can be pretty stubborn,” she muttered as she pulled a small, breathable bag out of her backpack.

  Kara crossed her arms, frowning curiously at the bag. “What is that?”

  Rose’s bright blue gaze darted up toward Kara and then back down at the bag. She swept her disheveled, red hair behind her ear and unzipped the bag. “Bag. For the rose,” she mumbled distractedly, as she gently slipped the rose into the bag. When she noticed Kara’s amused smile, she sighed, “I carry them around in case I come across something I want to research.” She shrugged. “I’m a nerd.”

  Kara’s smile deepened. “Yes,” she said. “But that just makes you hotter.”

  Rose
finished zipping the bag and then slipped the flower safely into her backpack. “You can’t possibly think that,” she said with a shy smile. “Why would you think that my nerdiness is hot? I mean, the word itself implies unsexiness.”

  “You’re brilliant, passionate, and curious,” Kara explained. “It’s hot.”

  Rose slung the backpack over her shoulder. “Well, when you put it like that,” she said, blushing, “I suppose it does sound a little better.” She involuntarily trailed her gaze over Kara’s athletic figure. “Warriors are obviously also…hot.”

  Kara raised an eyebrow. “Rose. Now, I know you’re flirting with me.”

  Rose ducked her head, her thick, auburn hair falling forward, around her face, hiding her blushing cheeks. “I told you I’m bad at it,” she reminded her.

  “Oh, I don’t know,” Kara said seductively. “I enjoyed it well enough.”

  Rose smiled shyly, holding the strap of her backpack, as she followed Kara through the park. “Where are we going?” she asked when they left the path.

  Kara led her through the trees and bushes, away from the dimly-lit path, toward the darkest area of the park. “Away from the cameras,” she said, glancing over her shoulder. “I don’t want anyone to be able to read our lips. Just in case.”

  Rose weaved through the maze of trees, fallen leaves crunching noisily beneath her tennis shoes, as she tried to keep up with Kara’s confident strides.

  “Here. This is perfect,” Kara announced. She stopped so abruptly that Rose nearly ran into her. Kara caught Rose’s arm to steady her, and then, with no warning whatsoever, she pushed Rose up against a tree. It happened so suddenly that Rose didn’t have time to react, much less adjust her backpack. The bag fell to the ground with a soft thud, as Rose stared at Kara, blinking in surprise, the bark of the tree digging into her back. Rose could feel every muscle and curve of Kara’s body pressed up against her, and the sensation caused yet another wave of desire to pour through her, overheating her body. Kara leaned forward, her breath warm against Rose’s lips and her hands warm around Rose’s shoulders, as she held Rose against the tree. Rose almost didn’t notice that Kara had braced her knee against the tree as well, one of her legs between Rose’s, but then, she shifted her leg slightly, causing her thigh to brush against Rose in a very sensitive spot. A smirk tilted at the corners of her lips. “Stand right here, and no one can see you.”

  Rose desperately tried to hide the effect that Kara had on her, but by this point, her face felt a thousand degrees hotter than usual. “Umm…yeah. Okay.”

  Kara stepped back, suddenly—so suddenly that Rose almost fell forward. “And I will stand,” she began, taking a step back, until her back hit another tree, directly across from Rose, “here.” She bent her leg, propping her boot against the tree, as she slouched comfortably against it. Rose, on the other hand, couldn’t have looked comfortable if she’d wanted to, because her mind and body were too busy freaking out about what had just happened. “Sorry,” Kara said with a knowing smile, “if I got a little…close. I just needed to show you where to stand.”

  Rose lifted her eyebrows. Close was an understatement. “I’m supposed to believe that was just you innocently showing me where to stand?” she said sassily.

  “Oh, Rose,” Kara murmured seductively, “I don’t do anything innocently.”

  Rose laughed. “So,” she began, her lips curving into an amused smile, “why did we have to sneak out of the house like a couple of juvenile delinquents?”

  Kara’s smile faded. “There’s something I need to tell you,” she sighed, “and it’s something that…I assume you’d rather me keep as private as possible.”

  Rose straightened. “What’s wrong?” she asked with a worried frown.

  Kara dragged one of her boots across the ground, watching the dirt shift beneath her feet. “The reason I knew that you were in trouble, the reason I knew your brother was in trouble,” she paused, a shaky breath escaping her lips. “I read your file, Rose. I read all of them.” She looked up at Rose, her dark hair falling behind her shoulders, her eyes dazzling in the moonlight. “The Assassins of Light have files, and I had to read all of them—to figure out what their next move was.”

  Rose just watched her, bewildered by the hesitation in her voice and the sympathy in her eyes. “I don’t understand. What does this have to do with me?”

  “They have a file on you, Rose,” Kara said. “A suspiciously detailed one.”

  Rose felt a cold wave of dread wash over her. “Detailed? How detailed?”

  Kara’s brows creased with sympathetic pain. “Too detailed,” she told her softly. “Pictures they shouldn’t have. Facts they shouldn’t know. There’s no good explanation for how they could have all of this. I can think of plenty of terrible explanations—they may have stalked you…for many, many years, or…someone you know may have betrayed you—but no good reasons. It’s very concerning.”

  “What kind of details, Kara?” Rose said nervously. “What did you see?”

  Kara looked down, watching the dirt beneath her boots, pain twisting at her face. “I’m sorry,” she said. A long, meaningful silence followed that statement, a silence that told Rose all she needed to know: that Kara knew everything, even the most personal parts, the parts that she couldn’t bear to remember. “That’s why I brought you here,” Kara sighed. “I didn’t think you’d want anyone to hear.”

  Rose tried to calm her racing heart. She tried to breathe, inhaling deeply, breathing in the cool, autumn air, and blowing it back out as slowly as possible. But no matter what, her heart raced faster and faster, and her chest grew tighter.

  Kara’s gaze darted back toward her. Without hesitating, she crossed the space between them, disregarding the cameras that she’d worried about before, concerned only with the agony she sensed in Rose. She stopped in front of Rose, and for a moment, she just stared at her, sympathetic pain flashing in her light blue eyes, almost as if she were hesitant to touch Rose, afraid of overstepping an unspoken boundary. “Rose,” she breathed. She tilted her head to the side, her dark hair falling over one bare shoulder. “I know it’s hard to have someone else know what happened to you, but…you know I think no differently of you, right?”

  “How could you not?” Rose whispered, tears spilling from her eyes.

  “Okay,” Kara said, causing Rose’s heart to skip unpleasantly, to skip with cold fear. “You’re right. I do see you differently.” Kara reached out carefully and cupped Rose’s face in her hands, her hands warm and soft against Rose’s cheeks. She tilted Rose’s face back, urging Rose to meet her gaze. “I see you as the most resilient person I have ever met. I see someone who is impossibly compassionate and unfazed by her past. I’m overwhelmed with admiration for you, Rose Foster.”

  Rose didn’t know what to say. “How?” she breathed, barely able to speak. “How are you not horrified by me? Why don’t you see me as damaged goods?”

  “Because you’re not,” Kara said easily. “You’re beautiful and wonderful.”

  Rose couldn’t tear her gaze away from Kara—the soft, subtle curves of her lips, the blue tint of her face as the moonlight streamed over her fair skin, the intensity of the emotion in her icy blue eyes. She felt as if it would all disappear if she looked away, as if this were some kind of dream. Because…how could anyone possibly know these things about her and not see her as broken? She’d harbored so much shame for herself for so long, and these things that Kara said, this way that she looked at Rose—it split Rose’s chest open. And yes, it was painful, but at the same time, it felt like…healing. Like breaking a bone to reset it correctly.

  “Oh, Rose,” Kara sighed. She tilted her face toward Rose’s, until their foreheads met, their breath mingling together. “How long have you believed this? How long have you believed that I’d see you differently? That anyone would?”

  The emotions welled up in Rose’s throat, threatening to spill out in a tidal wave of tears. “There are things about my past that I’ve
never told anyone, that I can’t handle telling anyone,” she said nervously. “Does this mean…you know?”

  They stood so close now, close enough to feel each other’s body heat, close enough to feel each other’s breath. Rose thought, rationally, that she should feel unnerved by Kara’s closeness, but instead, she felt comforted by it. She felt as if they belonged this way, their bodies almost joined, their lips almost touching.

  “I know more than I wanted to know,” Kara told her. “Well, not exactly. Honestly, I want to know everything about you—bad and good—but only when you’re ready to tell me. If I’d had a choice, I would’ve waited for you to tell me.”

  “But…because you read that file,” Rose asked, “you saved my brother?”

  “Yes,” Kara said. “The next move of their plan was detailed in your file.”

  Rose tilted her head back, putting space between them. She hoped that the space would ease some of the emotions that burned so powerfully inside her chest. She covered Kara’s hands with her own and pulled them away from her face, but she couldn’t bring herself to let go. She needed the warmth of Kara’s touch, the comfort of their joined hands. “Then, I suppose I should be grateful.”

  Kara stared at their joined hands, clasped between them. “I don’t like the word should, especially in regards to feelings. You should feel whatever you feel.”

  “Well,” Rose said thoughtfully, “I am grateful. Very grateful, actually.”

  Kara’s gaze shifted up to meet hers. “You’re not angry with me, then?”

  “For what? You saved my brother’s life,” Rose said. “And to be totally honest, I’m not all that bothered that you know these…things…about me. I’m terrified, of course, but the fact that you’re still here is kind of…comforting.”

  Kara smiled. “You should have known that your past wouldn’t scare me away, Rose,” she said wryly. “It takes much more than that to intimidate me.”

  “The fact that they know, though,” Rose said uneasily, “bothers me. As a matter of fact, it makes me feel sick.” Her brows furrowed. “How do they know?”