The Assassins of Light

by Britney Jackson

  “I don’t know,” Kara said. “I have theories, but none of them are good.”

  Rose frowned worriedly. “What do you mean? What are your theories?”

  Kara reluctantly pulled her hands out of Rose’s grasp, instantly missing the softness of Rose’s skin. She returned to her spot against the other tree, out of reach of the cameras. She breathed out a long sigh, the concern almost audible. “Do you know anyone who might’ve been connected to the Assassins of Light?”

  “Apparently, I knew a lot of people who were,” Rose said. “I mean, the head of my Department in college—my mentor—was an Assassin of Light. Jared, Owen’s boyfriend, is an Assassin of Light. It’s like I was surrounded by them.”

  Kara considered that for a moment. “That might not be a coincidence.”

  Rose didn’t like the sound of that. “What do you mean?” she asked.

  “I just wonder,” Kara said carefully. “What if the Assassins of Light were around you for a reason? What if there’s something that they know about you?”

  Rose felt a sudden chill creep over her skin, and she doubted it was the autumn breeze that caused it. She shoved her hands in her pockets. “Like what?”

  Kara shook her head, frowning. “That’s what I’m trying to figure out.”

  Rose leaned her head back against the tree, blinking sadly at the sky. She watched a bat fly overhead, its dark outline almost unseeable against the bluish-black sky. It disappeared behind the skyline of trees. Watching the flight of the bat and the stars that glittered in the sky distracted her for just a moment from the anxiety that pulled at her chest and the shame that welled up in her throat.

  “I agonized over whether I should tell you or not,” Kara said after a few moments. “I knew that it would upset you to know, but at the same time, it’s your right to know. I can’t keep something like that from you. They’re your secrets, and you should know if someone knows them. I hope I made the right decision.”

  Rose looked at her. “You did. I’d much rather know than not.”

  Kara nodded. “Good,” she said. “Listen. If you remember something, if you think of anyone at all that might have been able to give them that information, let me know. I can have people look into it. Maybe we’ll find some answers.”

  Rose nodded. She bit her lip worriedly. “You didn’t tell anyone, did you?”

  “Of course not,” Kara assured her. “I would never do that to you.”

  Rose squinted curiously. “Not even Aaron? You kept it from him, too?”

  “The only thing Aaron knows is that the Assassins of Light are targeting you. He doesn’t know what was in that file, and he never will,” Kara told her.

  “That’s a risk, isn’t it?” Rose asked. “You keep risking things for me.”

  “We should head back,” Kara said, “before your boyfriend gets pissed.”

  Rose didn’t miss the fact that Kara evaded the question, but…she wasn’t so sure that she’d want to hear the answer, anyway. Not when her feelings for Kara were already so confusing. “He’s always pissed,” she said with a wry smile.

  —

  When they returned home, Kallias met them at the door. “Where the hell have you been?” he snarled, fury and frustration flashing in his wide, brown eyes.

  Rose tried to step past him, into the foyer, but he braced his hand against the doorframe, his arm blocking her way. “I was talking to Kara,” she explained.

  His furious gaze darted toward Kara, who stood behind Rose, her arms crossed over her chest, as if she were perfectly fine with standing outside all night, if she had to. “Talking,” he said with a bitter smile. “You snuck out to…talk?”

  “As a matter of fact,” Rose said, meeting his glare with her own, “yes.”

  Kallias listened to her thoughts, surprised to find that she was telling the truth. About that part, at least. His brows furrowed. “About what?” he sighed.

  Rose lifted her eyebrows. “We left the house so that no one would hear us, and you think I’m going to tell you on the doorstep? Yeah, that makes sense.”

  Kallias clenched his jaw. “Do you realize how dangerous that was?”

  “She was with me,” Kara scoffed. “I would never let anyone harm her.”

  He glared at her. “Can I just talk to my girlfriend? Without your input.”

  Kara smiled. “Of course,” she said. She leaned against the railing of the steps and waved encouragingly. “By all means, keep making an ass of yourself.”

  “I can take care of myself,” Rose said, tilting her head to the side as she tried to get his attention. But he was too busy glaring at Kara to notice her.

  Kallias raked his fingers back through his long, brown hair, his muscular shoulders lifting as he took a deep breath in an attempt to calm himself down. A failed attempt, from the looks of it. “I’m so sick of worrying about you,” he told Rose. “I wish my telepathic control would work on you because if it did, I’d…”

  “You’d what?” Rose interrupted, her eyes flashing. “Control me?”

  He hesitated for a moment, but then, he said, “If it’d keep you safe…”

  Rose shook her head. “Wrong answer,” she said as she pushed past him.

  Kallias turned, watching as she walked away from him, marching up the stairs with a forcefulness that let him know—very clearly—that he’d upset her. He sighed and turned back toward Kara, surprised to find her still standing outside, watching him, with both eyebrows raised. His eyes narrowed. “What?” he snarled.

  Kara flashed a cocky smirk at him, as if she were entertained by his anger, rather than intimidated by it. She shrugged. “Just admiring your…er…charm.”

  He scowled at her sarcasm. Then, he stepped outside with her, allowing the door to slam closed behind him, cutting off any light, other than that of the moon. He dwarfed her easily, so much so that she had to lift her chin just to hold his gaze, as he took another step toward her. But despite the fact that he was taller and more muscular than she was, she didn’t seem the least bit intimidated by him. And that just irritated him more. “Get off your high horse,” he growled—quiet enough that no one else would hear. “You’re far from perfect. I know things about you. Things that she doesn’t know. Things that—if she did know—she wouldn’t want you anymore. No one would. And I am not above telling her.”

  Now, that got a reaction out of her. Kara looked away, her jaw tightening, as she tried to calm herself…before Rose sensed her fear. She stepped away from the railing and brushed past him. Kallias thought, at first, that she was just going to walk away without responding, but then, she glanced back at him. “That’s the difference between you and me, Kallias. I know I’m not good enough for her.”

  14

  The First Attack

  Owen navigated his way through the crowd of vampires that seemed to fill every communal area of the house. He kept his gaze on the floor, hoping to avoid getting distracted by their allure. Adrenaline coursed through his body, causing his heart to race and his palms to sweat. Trusting Rose and her friends was one thing, but these new vampires—the ones that had shown up the night before—were dangerous. He knew it because he knew their histories. Well, some of their histories anyway. He ducked into the kitchen, in search of some solitude.

  He breathed a sigh of relief as he closed the door behind him, closing off the noise that the vampires were making outside. Then, he looked up and froze.

  A dark, muscular man sat at the counter, drinking a glass of whiskey. He leaned over the counter, hunched forward, his black shirt stretching tight across his bulging muscles, as he sipped his drink. He shifted on the barstool, and his dark gaze shifted toward Owen. An amused smile pulled at the edges of his lips.

  Owen straightened, horrified by the realization that he was just ogling a vampire. Not that he could help it. It was impossible to resist a vampire’s allure.

  “Come on in,” the vampire chuckled. “I don’t bite.” He winked playfully.

  Owen swallo
wed uneasily. “Funny joke,” he muttered sarcastically.

  “It’s not one of my best,” the vampire admitted, “but I couldn’t resist.”

  “I was looking for a place to be alone,” Owen said, placing his hand on the doorknob. “I thought the kitchen was empty because it was so quiet in here.”

  The vampire shrugged his broad, muscular shoulders. “Suit yourself,” he said as Owen turned to leave. He poured himself another glass of whiskey and lifted it to his lips. “But this is probably the emptiest room you’ll find right now.”

  Owen stopped and glanced back at the man. “Why are you in here?”

  “Habit, I guess,” the vampire said with a slight Southern drawl. He lifted his glass of whiskey. “I tend to stay close to the drinks.” When Owen frowned, he laughed and explained, “I’m a bartender. It’s what I do at the Tomb of Blood.”

  “Oh,” Owen said, confused. “They brought a bartender with them?”

  He gave Owen a low, husky laugh in response. “I have other skills, too.”

  “Like killing?” Owen snapped. He hadn’t meant to say it so aggressively. It had just come out that way. “Sorry,” he sighed. “I just…don’t like vampires.”

  “Ah,” the vampire said, nodding. He smiled at Owen, his teeth bright, contrasting starkly with his dark skin. “Well, no wonder you want to be alone. I bet you’re stressed as can be right now…with us vampires everywhere you look.”

  Owen frowned suspiciously, wondering if the vampire was mocking him.

  “Sit down,” the vampire said with a friendly smile. “I’ll pour you a drink.”

  Owen continued to watch him suspiciously, but for whatever reason, he approached the vampire anyway. His tennis shoes squeaked against the hardwood floor as he rounded the counter. He sat on the barstool across from the vampire.

  The vampire raised an eyebrow, making it obvious that he’d noticed that Owen was too afraid to sit next to him. “I’m Tom. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  “Owen,” he responded, his voice shaky, “I’m one of Rose’s friends.”

  Tom stood and walked around the counter. “Well, in that case,” he said as he retrieved another glass from the cabinets, “I’ll have to keep an eye on you.”

  Owen spun around, his eyes widening in shock. “What?” he sputtered.

  Tom laughed. It was a low, honeyed sound that Owen couldn’t help but find attractive. He leaned forward and set the empty glass in front of Owen, which put his mouth closer to Owen’s ear. “Rose saved my life. I owe her. So, if you’re important to her, that makes you important to me, too. I’ll make sure none of us horrible, terrifying vampires hurt you.” He grinned, confirming Owen’s suspicion.

  The vampire was definitely mocking him.

  To make matters worse, Owen couldn’t resist shivering a little as Tom’s low, warm voice poured into his ear. Owen turned to glare at the vampire, trying not to notice how nice he smelled—like chocolate and spice. “I know what your kind is capable of,” Owen said bitterly. “My parents were murdered by vampires.”

  “Sorry to hear that,” Tom said sincerely, “but I didn’t do it.”

  “Yeah. Well,” Owen muttered petulantly. “I bet you’ve killed someone.”

  Tom straightened at that, his jaw tightening. He returned to the barstool that he’d been sitting on before and picked up the bottle of whiskey. “I’m teasing you about the vampire thing,” he said gruffly, “but I’m serious about my debt to Rose. She really did save my life, so I don’t want anything to happen to her friend.”

  Owen watched him curiously. “Why did she save your life?”

  “Don’t know,” Tom said as he poured the whiskey into his own glass. “I’ve been trying to figure that out myself.” He shrugged. “I guess she’s just a really great person. She must be, considering how my friend feels about her.”

  Owen nodded. “Rose is pretty great,” he agreed. “Who is your friend?”

  Tom leaned forward, across the counter, and poured whiskey into the short, squared glass that set in front of Owen. “Kara,” he said as he sat down.

  “You’re friends with Kara Unnarsdóttir?” Owen asked uneasily.

  Tom raised an eyebrow. “You’ve heard of her, I take it?”

  “My boyfriend is an Assassin of Light,” Owen said, just blurting it out.

  Tom looked up, his eyes widening. “Your boyfriend is our enemy?”

  “Well, ex-boyfriend, really,” Owen said with a frown. He tipped his glass up and downed the entire glass in one gulp. He made a face, not used to drinking straight whiskey. “He tried to kill me earlier this week, so I think we’re over.”

  Tom snorted, “You and Kara should get along great, then. It sounds like you had the same sort of relationship she and Alana had.” He sipped his drink.

  Owen stared at the empty glass. “Jared and I were together for years. I don’t think I was ever in love with him, but we were…comfortable together.”

  “Comfort’s only part of it,” Tom said. “You got to have the fire, too.”

  Owen looked up at him, considering that. “We had good sex. Usually.”

  Tom nearly spit out his drink, laughing. “I bet you did,” he snorted.

  Owen scowled at him. “Are you mocking me again?”

  Tom leaned forward and poured Owen another glass of whiskey. Then, he looked up at him, a smirk twitching at his lips. “Sorry. Can’t help myself,” he chuckled. “You’re just so defensive. The guy tried to kill you. Don’t defend him.”

  “He was selfish,” Owen amended, “and the sex could have been better.”

  “There you go,” Tom praised. “That’s how you deal with a breakup.”

  “By insulting my ex and drinking too much whiskey?” Owen asked.

  Tom shrugged. “Always works for me.”

  Owen smiled as he sipped at his glass of whiskey.

  The phone on the counter lit up and started buzzing. Tom picked it up, his eyebrow lifting, as he read the name on the screen. “It’s Aaron. He wants to talk to me,” he sighed. He offered Owen a regretful smile. “Sorry. I have to go.”

  Owen watched him, surprised by the vampire’s apology. “It’s fine.”

  Tom pushed the bottle of whiskey toward Owen. “It was nice to meet you,” he said with a friendly smile. He stood up and tucked his phone into the back pocket of his jeans. As he turned to leave, he added, “Your ex was an idiot.”

  Owen straightened, his eyes widening, as he watched the vampire leave.

  —

  After a novel and a half, Rose had practically forgotten about her anger.

  She felt that familiar sensation tingling inside her, but she pretended not to notice. She turned the page of her book, staring at the chapter heading at the top of the page, even as she heard the door open, even as the scent of violets and leather wafted into the library, even as her entire body came alive with hunger.

  “I have to give it to your boyfriend,” Kara commented. “This is a nice library.” Her boots thudded across the hardwood floor, bringing her closer to the sofa where Rose sat, reading—or trying to read, anyway. Kara circled around the sofa to one of the empty sides, and then, she hopped onto the sofa beside Rose.

  Literally hopped. Right over the arm of the sofa.

  So much for ignoring her presence.

  Rose’s eyes widened, and she lifted her book in the air, as Kara lounged back against the arm of the sofa and stretched her long, leather-clad legs across Rose’s lap. When Rose turned, staring at her incredulously, Kara just folded her arm behind her head and offered Rose a playful smirk. Rose looked pointedly at the lean legs in her lap and raised her eyebrows. “Why are your legs in my lap?”

  Kara’s smile widened. “Just getting comfortable,” she murmured. She tilted her head back, her sleek, dark hair falling over her arm. If anyone had ever looked comfortable, it was her. “You can push them off of you, if it bothers you.”

  Rose sighed and rested her arms on Kara’s legs, returning her
attention to her book—or trying to—but then, Kara hooked her legs around Rose’s hips and dragged Rose closer to her, until Rose could feel the muscles of Kara’s thighs and butt against her own thighs. Rose shifted her gaze back toward Kara, resisting the urge to smile back, when she saw Kara’s mischievous smirk. “This is a library. If you’re not going to read something, you shouldn’t be in here,” Rose said sassily.

  “Mmm,” Kara said, her eyebrows lifting. “You are one sexy librarian.”

  Rose blushed. “I’m not a librarian,” she muttered as she once again tried to return her attention to the book. It didn’t help that the chapter title was, “The Dangerous Seductress.” She glanced at Kara—her own dangerous seductress.

  Kara raised an eyebrow. “Why are you looking at me like that?” she said, a wicked grin tilting at the edges of her lips. “Are you reading a sex scene, Rose?”

  Heat rushed to Rose’s face. “No,” she grumbled. “Nothing like that.”

  “Pass me that book on the other side of you, ást,” Kara murmured.

  Rose glanced at the book she’d just finished that lay on the empty space of the couch. “Do you like horror novels?” she asked as she picked up the heavy novel and handed it to Kara. Kara took it from her hand and flipped it open.

  “I like a lot of things that get my blood pumping,” she said suggestively.

  “Oh my word,” Rose groaned, rolling her eyes, but she couldn’t help but laugh as she did. She tried to focus on her book again, but after a page or two, she found herself running her fingertips over the soft, pliant leather that clung to Kara’s muscular thighs. She blushed as she heard Kara’s sharp intake of breath, and then sensed the desire rushing through Kara. She glanced at Kara, swallowing uneasily, as she met Kara’s gaze—a gaze so dark and hot with lust that it looked as if it could burn Rose’s skin. “Sorry. Your pants are just…such a soft leather.”

  “They’re expensive,” Kara said breathlessly, her skin flushed with desire. She laughed. “Well, they didn’t cost me anything because I stole them, but…”