The Assassins of Light

by Britney Jackson

  Kara shook her head, her eyes wide and full of worry. “I don’t know.”

  Rose looked away, staring at the stone wall, as her gut twisted with dread. “Thank you,” she said, changing the subject, “for what you’re doing for Audrey.”

  “I’m doing it for you,” Kara corrected, her intense blue eyes shining with a vulnerability that stunned Rose. “I can see how much you worry about her.”

  Those words bounced around in Rose’s head, throwing her mind into total chaos. “For me? That’s…” she trailed off. “Why are you telling me this?”

  Kara stepped forward, once again closing the space between them. She’d moved with purpose and certainty before, but this time, she moved slowly, every movement hesitant. She watched Rose, as if she were afraid of something, which bewildered Rose, since nothing intimidated Kara. Her chest rose and fell quickly as she opened her mouth to speak. “Maybe,” she said slowly, hesitantly, “I trust you in a way that I’ve never trusted anyone else.” She lowered her voice, speaking in a breathy whisper, “Maybe you’re the one person that I don’t want to lie to.”

  Rose felt her blood rushing faster in her veins, her heartbeat rattling her entire body. “Are you?” she breathed. “Are you still lying about something?”

  “Yes,” Kara said, much to her disappointment. “There is one thing.”

  Rose nodded. It surprised Kara to see that there was no judgement or anger in Rose’s bright blue eyes. Just a hint of sadness. A hint of sadness that Kara wished to soothe. “Is there any way I can persuade you to tell me the truth?”

  Kara felt an unfamiliar rush of fear in her veins. “You could say it first.”

  “Kara,” Aaron said suddenly, startling them. He stood near the end of the hall, at the top of the stairs, his dark form outlined by the light behind him. His tennis shoes squeaked against the hardwood floor as he approached them.

  Kara turned toward him, and the emotions that had been visible to Rose, just a moment ago, disappeared from Kara’s face, hidden behind an expert façade.

  “We need to talk,” he said. His dark gaze shifted toward Rose. “Alone.”

  Kara nodded and gestured toward her room.

  “Say what first?” Rose called after her. “What do I need to say?”

  Kara glanced back at Rose. “Nice try,” she said softly. Then, she followed Aaron into the guest room, leaving Rose in the hall, wondering what she’d meant.

  —

  By the time Rose returned to the living room, most of the vampires had dispersed, but Tom, Erik, Owen, and Zach lounged on the sofas, still, watching some kind of crime drama on the television. Erik, Owen, and Zach shared a pizza, its box lying open on the coffee table, while Tom drank a beer that carried a faint scent of blood. Rose couldn’t help but notice that Owen’s hazel gaze kept darting toward Tom every now and then, as they watched the show. “Where’s Kallias?”

  Erik glanced up at her, his eyebrows lifting. “From the sounds of it,” he said, listening to the harsh, rapid thudding, coming from somewhere within the house, “beating the hell out of one of our poor punching bags. I don’t know how many more we have down there. He’s already busted about eighteen of them.”

  “Oh, good,” Rose muttered sarcastically. “I was afraid he’d be angry.”

  Erik snorted, “I can feel the waves of rage that are radiating off of him.”

  Rose winced at that. “All the way up here? That’s so encouraging.”

  Zach’s bright blue gaze shifted toward her. “Is he always this…angry?”

  “Only when I do literally everything he asked me not to do,” Rose said.

  “In other words,” Erik said as he grabbed another slice of pizza, “yes.”

  Rose leaned against one of the sofas. “Speaking of,” she said, grimacing, “sorry for…” She waved her hand as she tried to come up with the right words. “The…thing…you all saw earlier. I’m not the airing-dirty-laundry type, usually.”

  Zach shrugged. “I like watching people fight. It reminds me of prison.”

  Rose frowned at that. “A house full of vampires reminds you of prison?”

  Owen agreed. “It was refreshing, actually. After being cooped up in this house all week, I needed a little bit of drama. Not to be insensitive or anything…”

  Rose nodded. “Yeah. Totally not insensitive,” she muttered sarcastically.

  Tom grinned at her as well. “I work in a bar. A vampire bar. With drunk, aggressive vampires. It wasn’t anything I hadn’t seen before,” he assured her.

  “Well, I’m glad you guys enjoyed it,” Rose muttered, “because I didn’t.”

  Erik tilted his head back so he could look up at Rose. “How is Kara?”

  Rose watched him for a moment, surprised by the genuine concern in Erik’s bright green eyes. But then, she supposed, she shouldn’t have been. Kara and Erik had been as close as Kallias and Erik, once upon a time. “Better, I hope.”

  Erik nodded. “I hope so, too. She’s tough, but she’s soft, too, you know.”

  She nodded. “I know,” she sighed. She jumped as she heard a loud snap.

  Erik rolled his eyes. “He just broke another one,” he grumbled irritably.

  Rose raised an eyebrow. “Should I…uh…go down there to talk to him?”

  Erik scowled. “You have to be the only person in the world who hears someone beating the hell out of something and says, ‘I think I’ll go talk to them.’”

  She laughed, “I’m not afraid of a little anger.”

  “Rose,” Owen called as she started to leave, “before you go, I was wondering,” he paused, and Rose couldn’t help but notice that Tom’s gaze darted toward him, “do you have a computer I can use? I have a paper due tomorrow.”

  “Oh, goodness,” Rose said sympathetically, glancing at the clock on the wall. “Yeah. You need to get started, then. My laptop is in Kallias’s room.”

  “You could use mine,” Erik said. “Just don’t look at my browser history.”

  Rose wrinkled her nose in disgust. “Ugh,” she complained. She looked at Owen. “I wouldn’t touch Erik’s computer with a ten-foot-pole. Just use mine.”

  “Thanks,” Owen said nervously. He stood, loosening the collar of his button-down shirt, as he walked past her, toward the foyer. “I’ll see you later.”

  —

  Rose typed the passcode into the security system and stepped down into the cold, dark basement. She winced as a loud snap echoed throughout the room.

  Kallias didn’t even glance down at the punching bag he’d just split open before going to get another from the storage room. “You know,” he called as he headed into the other room, “I come here to be alone. Hence the passcode.”

  “You probably shouldn’t have given me the passcode, then,” Rose said.

  Kallias scowled at her as he stepped out of the storage room, carrying a massive punching bag in one hand, as if it weighed nothing. “I didn’t. Erik did.”

  Rose met him in the middle of the concrete floor and took the punching bag out of his hand, ignoring his frustrated glare. “So, tell me,” she said playfully as she set up the bag for him. “Is the punching bag supposed to be me or Aaron?”

  His scowl deepened. “What kind of question is that? I’d never hurt you.”

  “Ah. So it’s Aaron, then,” she said with a cute smile. “That’s a relief.”

  He rolled his eyes. “Move,” he told her before he punched the new bag.

  She stepped aside as he took his rage out on the poor bag of sand. He’d taken off the black, button-down shirt he’d been wearing and dropped it in the floor, behind him. She watched the way his muscles shifted as he punched the bag with perfect form and total control—until, of course, the inevitable punch that would bust the bag. Normally, he had too much self-control to ever make a mistake like that, so just the fact that he kept doing it said quite a deal about his anger at the moment. “Do you want to talk? Or keep busting punching bags?”

  Kallias stopped, d
ragging his hand across his forehead, wiping away the sweat that glistened on his golden skin. “I never want to talk, Rose. That’s your thing,” he grumbled. He wasn’t using gloves—he never did—so his hands looked reddened and raw from all of the punching. “Is that why you came down here?”

  “No, I came down here to arrange the funerals for the punching bags you murdered,” she said sarcastically. She smiled. “Of course it’s why I’m here.”

  Kallias shrugged. “I just figured your girlfriend wasn’t in the mood.”

  Rose sighed, “Don’t be like that.” Sadness pulled at the corners of her eyes. “I’m in love with you. This thing with Kara and me—it’s the blood bond.”

  “Don’t lie to me, Rose,” Kallias snarled. Fury burned in his light brown eyes, and he took a large, threatening step toward her. She felt an instinctual urge to step back, but she didn’t. She planted her feet in place and stood her ground. “I don’t care if you kissed her or slept with her,” he growled, “but don’t lie to me.”

  “Would you rather me tell you I have feelings for her?” she asked sadly.

  “If it’s the truth?” he said, his voice quieter now—pained, even. “Yes.”

  Rose looked away. “The truth is…I don’t know what I feel for her.”

  “Now, you’re lying to yourself,” Kallias sighed. “You don’t want to know what you feel for her. You’re afraid to admit it. I can see it in your thoughts: fear.”

  “I would never intentionally hurt you, Kallias,” Rose said. “I love you.”

  Kallias stepped back, clenching his jaw in frustration. “For once, could you just stop worrying about everyone’s feelings and figure out what you want?”

  Rose frowned. “I want you. I love you. Are you…doubting my love?”

  “No,” Kallias said. “I’d never doubt that. No one has ever loved me like you do. But Rose, loving someone and wanting to be with them are two different things. I know you love me. What I don’t know is whether I’m the one you want.”

  “That’s not fair,” she said. “You’re the one who keeps pushing me away.”

  His eyes narrowed. “And why do you think that is?” he snapped. “I was fine before you came along, Rose. I was cold and distant, and I liked it that way.”

  Rose stepped back, now, as those words pierced her heart, like a knife.

  “Yeah, I’d hardened myself. I was full of anger and hatred, and my heart was encased in ice. But it didn’t hurt anymore, Rose,” he growled. “But then, you came along and broke down all the walls around my heart and made me feel again. And then, what did you do? You died. You broke me all over again. Like Phoebe.”

  Her vision blurred with unshed tears. “I’m sorry. You know I’m sorry.”

  “Why fix me, if you’re just going to break me again?” he asked brokenly.

  “I had to save you. I couldn’t let you die,” she said…again, even though she knew he’d never listen. “And I never tried to fix you. I loved you. That’s it. You opened your heart to me because you wanted to, not because I made you.”

  “Well, I made a mistake,” he said. “I’d rather feel nothing than be afraid.”

  Rose tried to touch his hand, but he pulled away before she could, which only cut her deeper. “What are you afraid of? I’m a vampire now. I’m immortal.”

  “You can still die, and you know it,” Kallias said, “and you don’t care.”

  “I do care,” Rose said, taking him by surprise. “When Alana tried to kill me, I…wanted to live. I was surprised by how much I wanted to live. I begged her to let me live, and I think there was a moment when she actually considered it.”

  He watched her curiously. “If you wanted to live, why did you go alone?”

  “Because you could’ve died, Kallias,” Rose said. “Because thousands of people could’ve died. I couldn’t just stand by and do nothing while people died.”

  Kallias breathed out a defeated sigh. “And that’s why you’ll do it again.”

  She noticed the way his broad, muscular shoulders slumped with defeat, the way his lips turned downward, the way sadness softened his light brown eyes. “Do you,” she paused, mustering up the courage to ask, “want to be with me?”

  He turned to leave, unable to meet her gaze. “I don’t know anymore.”

  —

  Desperation and fear welled up inside of Rose’s chest, filling every part of her body before spilling out in a scream. She grasped frantically at the cold air around her, hoping against all hope that at some point, her hand would connect with something. But it never did. Because there was nothing in the cold, shapeless abyss. No end. No beginning. No warmth or happiness or hope. Only Darkness.

  The thing about falling is that in the first few moments—which feel like hours—you fight with everything inside you. Adrenaline floods the bloodstream. The fight-or-flight response is activated, and the need to survive becomes all that you know. But eventually, the energy fades, and you stop screaming. You stop fighting. You stop hoping. And you wait. You wait for the end. For your death.

  Rose screamed until her lungs felt as if they’d been filled with lead, until her voice faded out, along with the last ounce of hope inside her. And then, only then, did she stop falling. It happened so abruptly that she almost screamed again.

  The dark abyss didn’t end. She didn’t reach her inevitable demise with a crash. No. Her body simply stopped, suspended in darkness with no explanation.

  Rose found the strength to sit up, somehow, despite the heavy, weakness of her muscles. A heart-wrenching sob spilled through her lips as she realized that it was happening again. The nightmare. The Darkness she would never escape.

  “Aww,” said a familiar, lilting voice. “I preferred the temple nightmare.”

  Rose sighed and turned to look at the woman behind her. Since she had yet to stand up, she found herself at eye-level with a pair of pale blue, high-heeled shoes, attached to smooth, shapely legs. She looked up, her eyebrows lifting, as she finally made eye-contact with the dark blue eyes that watched her. “Alana.”

  Alana tilted her head to the side, her pale blonde hair spilling over her lace-covered shoulders, as she smiled. “It’s a bit of a double-edged sword, isn’t it? Either I’m still alive, manipulating your dreams, or you’re losing your mind.”

  “I’m losing my mind. Obviously,” Rose said. “Hence our surroundings.”

  Alana swept her gaze around the dark vacuum. “Yes. It is quite morbid, isn’t it?” she said, as shapes began to form in the darkness, the nothingness slowly morphing into the blood-soaked bodies of the vampires that Rose had killed. She giggled, “Oh, darling. You do have some skeletons in your closet, don’t you?”

  Rose narrowed her eyes at the dead telepath. “You’re one to talk.”

  “But I never felt the need to hide mine, love,” Alana reminded her. She glanced up at the endless darkness that stretched above them. “Or bury them so deep.” She looked down at Rose again and raised an eyebrow. “In that position, you could see right up my dress, if you wanted. Do you…want, Rose?”

  Rose rolled her eyes and climbed unsteadily to her feet. She swayed a bit, unnerved by the sensation of nothing beneath her feet, but somehow, she stood.

  Amusement danced in Alana’s dark blue eyes. “I’ll take that as a no.”

  Rose crossed her arms, shivering at the cold. “You’re not even real, and you’re still trying to seduce me,” she complained. “What sense does that make?”

  “Maybe you just have a good memory,” Alana said. She stepped closer, the scent of her perfumed lotion invading Rose’s senses. “Or maybe…I meant more to you than you’d like to admit.” Her lips curved into a seductive smile.

  Rose frowned. “What?” she asked quietly. “What did you mean to me?”

  “You understood me, remember?” Alana said. “You’re the only one who did. Now, what kind of Darkness must lurk within you for you to understand me?”

  “Boundless, apparently,” Rose said dryl
y, waving her hand at the endless darkness that surrounded them. She turned around, pain unfurling in her chest, as she saw the truly horrific creation of her nightmares—the corpses. The death and destruction that Rose was responsible for. She began to wander in the dark abyss, searching for an escape from the nightmare, knowing, of course, that she wouldn’t find one. She would be trapped in this Darkness until it released her.

  Alana’s shoes made no sound in this abyss, but Rose could feel that Alana was following her. “I see you decided to steal my girlfriend, now that I’m dead.”

  “How can I steal anything from you, if you’re dead?” Rose muttered. She tried to keep her eyes straight ahead, but the horrific scene—the memories of the horrific things that she’d done—seemed to follow her, appearing in front of her, even when she tried to walk in the opposite direction. Her stomach lurched with guilt and pain each time it moved into her line of vision. “And even if I could steal her from you, I haven’t,” Rose continued, desperately trying to stay calm, despite the fear that crawled up her throat, like cold, slimy fingers, threatening to choke the life out of her. “I’m in love with Kallias, not Kara, and I won’t betray him.”

  Alana’s soft, lilting voice followed her, no matter where she went. “Your heart betrayed him the moment you met Kara,” she taunted, “and you know it.”

  Rose froze, nervousness fluttering in her chest. “What? That’s not true.”

  Alana circled around her, advancing on her, like a predator closing in on its prey. “You can’t lie to me, Rose,” she murmured. “I’m in your head. I know you better than you know yourself. She’s all over you. You know that, right?” She tilted her face closer, sniffing Rose’s neck. “She’s on your skin, in your blood, in your head.” She stepped back, a wicked glint in her dark blue eyes. “You have a connection with her, and no matter how much you resist, you’ll always end up in her arms. It’s funny, isn’t it? You try so hard not to hurt anyone, and you always fail. Because that’s what you are, Rose. A failure. A disaster waiting to happen.”