The Assassins of Light

by Britney Jackson

  Kara nodded. She still leaned against Rose, holding Rose against the wall with the weight of her body, and as Rose spoke, she rested her hands on Rose’s hips, her fingers curling around Rose’s curvy, jean-clad hips. “Yes,” she answered.

  Rose swallowed hard, attempting to ignore the distracting sensations that Kara’s touch elicited in her body. “Maybe this camera isn’t connected to the same computers. Maybe this one’s connected to somewhere else. Or…someone else.”

  Kara frowned. She cast an inconspicuous look around the corner, just long enough to see the lens of the camera. “I need to break the camera somehow. Preferably without being seen. Just in case you’re right, and someone is watching.”

  Rose closed her eyes and focused on where she figured the camera would be in the next hallway. She opened her eyes when she heard the soft, shattering sound of the camera’s lens. “Oh? You mean like that?” she said with a cute smile.

  Kara raised an eyebrow in surprise. She shifted a little to the side, peering around the corner again, at the camera that Rose had shattered with her telekinetic abilities. She looked back at Rose, and her soft, pale lips curved into a gorgeous smile. “Exactly like that,” she murmured. Then, without hesitating, she captured Rose’s lips with her own, tilting Rose’s face back with her hands. She pressed her body harder against Rose’s, their bodies meeting in all of the right places. When Rose moaned against her lips, Kara pulled back. “I’m so turned on right now.”

  “Oh my word,” Rose laughed, rolling her eyes. She tried to cover Kara’s mouth with her hand, but Kara caught her wrist before she could. Rose narrowed her eyes playfully at Kara. “Can’t you behave for five minutes?” she complained.

  “Nope,” Kara said with a wicked grin. She stepped back, winking at her.

  Rose shook her head, trying—and failing—to suppress her smile, as she followed Kara around the corner, into the next hallway. A tiny wisp of smoke poured from the broken camera, wafting into the air, as they passed it. She noticed a door at the end of the hall—the first door she’d seen since they left the kitchen.

  “That’s a training room,” Kara said. “It’s the size of a small gymnasium.”

  They passed that door and turned another corner, and suddenly, a very different kind of hall stretched before them, one with doors on both sides, signs hanging outside each door. Kara stopped at the first door—the office closest to the back door of the facility—and she turned the doorknob, breaking the locks.

  Rose read the engraved letters on the door: Commander Frederick Martin.

  Kara strode into the dark office, rounding the large, wooden desk in the middle of the room. She slid the papers around the desk with her fingers, scanning each piece of paper for something useful. She found a leather-bound day planner, and she picked it up, thumbing through it, searching for the month of October.

  “What are we looking for?” Rose asked as she joined Kara beside the desk. She looked down at the papers lying on the desk, which were mostly forms.

  “The others are looking for their weapons so we can destroy them,” Kara said as she flipped through the planner. “You and I are looking for the good stuff.”

  Rose looked up at her, lifting her eyebrows. “And the good stuff is?”

  A smile tugged at Kara’s lips. “Information we can use against them.”

  Rose nodded. “Whose office is this?” she asked as she spun around in a small circle, taking in her surroundings—the photos of a family on the wall, the mauve and green, flowery, sofa pressed up against the wall, the garbage can full of beef jerky bags and cola cans. Her gaze darted back toward the photos on the wall as a strange feeling of familiarity pricked at her mind. She stared at the blonde woman, the brunette man, and the two brunette children. She felt like she had seen them before—the entire family. Not enough to know them. But enough to recognize them. Her stomach lurched with a terrible feeling—dread and fear—a warning from some deep, subconscious part of her. She turned around, breathing in deeply, as she made her way over to the filing cabinets that set behind the desk.

  Kara looked back at her curiously, her brows creasing with concern, as she felt Rose’s emotions. “His name is Frederick Martin. He’s their Commander.”

  Rose shook her head quickly, anxiously. “I don’t recognize the name.”

  “Should you?” Kara asked gently. She turned toward Rose, leaning her hip against the desk. She held the planner in her hands, still, but she stared at Rose now, instead of it. “You seem upset about something. Is something wrong?”

  Rose shook her head. “No. It’s just…a feeling,” she said distractedly.

  “I remember, when I was human, some of the older women in my village believed that intuition was a power, given to us by the gods,” Kara said. She tilted her head to the side, her dark hair falling over her shoulder. “What do you think?”

  “I think intuition is the subconscious mind,” Rose said, opening one of the filing cabinet drawers, “picking up on clues and forming conclusions before the conscious mind can piece it together. It’s your mind trying to warn you.”

  “Both of those theories tell us one thing,” Kara said. She looked down at the planner and flipped to the next page. “You should always trust your feelings.”

  Rose glanced back at Kara, considering that, before she shifted her gaze back to the open filing cabinet. She thumbed through the beige folders inside, scanning the labels at the top. She realized, as she noticed a file that said Kallias of Athens, another that said Erik Olafsson, and two more for Geoffrey Cossington and Emma Cossington, that the names at the top of the folders were local vampires. She paused as she found a folder with the name Rose Foster at the top. She pulled the folder out of the cabinet and frowned at it. Her folder wasn’t beige like the others.

  It was red. Like blood. Like her eyes.

  Her fingers trembled a little as she opened the folder—side effect of the bad feeling, she assumed. The first thing in the folder was a typed-out description of her life. It felt strange to read such a short, tragic description of her life—every major event of her life summed up into three, sad paragraphs. It bothered her to know that these people knew so much about her. They knew the things that she’d kept secret from everyone—the things she couldn’t bring herself to talk about.

  “That’s your file, isn’t it?” Kara said. She returned the planner to the desk and crossed her arms, regarding Rose with a concerned frown. “They kept your information in a red folder at the base in Oslo, too. It must be a common thing.”

  “They had this information in Norway?” Rose asked uncomfortably. She flipped to the next item in the folder—pictures of a young, freckled child with long, red hair. She felt sick to her stomach. “I’m a child in these pictures. Why do they have pictures of me from that many years ago? How did they take these?”

  Kara watched her sympathetically. “I haven’t figured that part out yet.”

  Rose flipped to the next picture, a sickening chill pouring through her, as she stared at the picture of the redheaded child hugging an older, blonde child, tears pouring down her bruised, fair-skinned face, as she cried on his shoulder. Her breath came faster, and her vision blurred. “It’s my brother,” she mumbled. “It’s my brother comforting me after the…” she trailed off, choking back a sob.

  Kara dropped her arms to her side and took a step toward her. Sympathy burned in her intense, cornflower-blue eyes. “Rose, you don’t have to look at it.”

  “I need to,” Rose said breathlessly, her chest heaving with each difficult, erratic breath. “I need to know what they know. I can handle it. I know I can.”

  “I know you can, too,” Kara said, closing the space between them. She reached up and ran her fingers over Rose’s face, calming Rose with her warm, soothing touch. “Just take a deep breath. Remind yourself where you are. Remind yourself that these things that happened are over. No one can’t touch you now.”

  Rose nodded and breathed in deeply. She did as Kara said,
attempting to regain control of her panicked mind—the mind that was currently overwhelmed by horrific, disturbing flashbacks. She shifted her gaze back to the folder, and she began to flip faster through the hundreds of photographs, only pausing to notice certain details—like the fact that the pictures were taken during the worst times of her life, the fact that the photos were taken from far away, from deep within the shadows, the fact that, in one photograph, it seemed like Zach had noticed the person who was taking the pictures… He looked like a teenager in the picture, tall and lanky, his blonde hair uncut and messy. He had something in his mouth—a cigarette, probably—and his head was tilted, his bright blue eyes narrowed, as he seemed to notice the camera or the photographer. “Zach saw them,” Rose realized, looking up at Kara. “I need to ask him about this. He might remember.”

  Kara glanced down at the picture, her eyebrows lifting. “He might.”

  Rose flipped quickly through the rest of the pictures, barely even paying attention, until she reached the recent photos. Her eyes widened as she flipped through the recent photos—mostly of Zach—taken at the prison and at Kallias’s house. “Why are they taking so many pictures of Zach?” she asked. She frowned as she realized that the last several were pictures of him outside Kallias’s house, picking up the pizza, as it was delivered. “How did we not notice them outside?”

  “They’re being taken from a car,” Kara said, leaning forward and tapping the photo with her finger, where they could see a few raindrops on the windshield.

  Rose looked at Kara, her blood running cold. “The pizza delivery car?”

  Kara straightened as she realized, at the same time as Rose, that they were in danger, if the people delivering the pizza were actually the Assassins of Light.

  Rose looked at the last few pictures, her eyes widening, as she recognized the outfit that Zach wore—a pair of loose, blue jeans and a white T-shirt. “This is what he’s wearing tonight. They’ve already taken pictures of him…tonight.”

  But Kara was already heading back to the desk, frantically searching the drawers, as if she were looking for something in particular. “They delivered the pizza three hours ago. I remember hearing the car leave the driveway,” she said. “Frederick Martin left this office an hour ago. He must have printed those first.”

  Rose watched her worriedly. “Why are you checking the drawers?”

  Kara glanced back at Rose, her brows creased with anxiety. “I have a bad feeling,” she breathed. And then, she turned back toward the long drawer beneath the desk—the only one she hadn’t checked yet—and she pulled on it. It didn’t open as easily as the others because it was locked. But the lock broke under the force of her hand, and the drawer slid open. A cold wave of dread poured through Kara as she stared down at the only thing inside the drawer—a bottle of liquid.

  Rose set down her file and joined Kara beside the desk. “What is it?”

  Kara looked paler than Rose had ever seen her, and when Kara reached for the bottle, her fingers trembled. She unscrewed the black lid from the small, slender bottle and sniffed at the liquid. She breathed out a long string of words that Rose didn’t recognize—Old Norse words, Rose assumed. Profanity, most likely. Kara grabbed her phone from her pocket so quickly that Rose didn’t have time to react, the motion blurring before Rose’s eyes. Kara pressed a rapid series of buttons and lifted the phone to her ear. “Fy faen! Answer your phone, Erik.”

  Rose could smell the adrenaline in Kara’s blood. “Kara, what is it?”

  Kara’s icy blue eyes shifted toward Rose, and there was so much fear in those beautifully intense eyes that Rose felt her own pulse skyrocket at the sight.

  “Hey, Kara,” Erik answered, finally, laughing, “I’m kind of busy.”

  “I don’t give a fuck what you’re doing,” Kara hissed. “Find Zach. Now.”

  “Whoa,” Erik said, all of the humor in his voice gone. “What’s wrong?”

  “Just find Rose’s brother,” Kara pleaded, “and give him vampire blood.”

  “Oh. Shit,” Erik breathed, finally understanding. “Yeah. I’m on it.”

  The phone clicked as he hung up, and Kara slowly returned the phone to her pocket. She looked up at Rose, and her chest tightened as she realized that Rose’s bright blue eyes were already glistening with unshed tears. “Rose…”

  “What’s in the bottle?” Rose asked, her voice shaking. “What’s wrong?”

  “It’s poison,” Kara said, confirming Rose’s fear. Before the first sob could escape Rose’s lips, Kara was already stepping forward and pulling Rose into her arms. She held Rose tightly, clutching Rose’s long hair, as Rose shook with fear. “We don’t know anything yet. It’s only suspicion, at this point,” Kara said into her ear, keeping her voice as soft and soothing as possible. “Come. Let’s go.”

  “Where do you think you’re going?” Aaron said, appearing suddenly in the doorway. “We haven’t completed the mission yet. You can’t leave until we…”

  “Go fuck yourself, Aaron,” Kara snarled. And then, without even giving him time to react, she grabbed Rose’s hand, and they ran…as fast as they could.

  21

  The Monster

  Kallias met them at the door. He stood just outside the house, his tall, muscular form blocking the doorway. Rose tried to race past him, running on pure adrenaline and terror, but he caught her easily, wrapping his long arm around her waist to stop her. He exchanged a wary look with Kara, over Rose’s shoulder.

  A look that Kara understood. Kara stumbled back, her light blue eyes flashing with pain. Sympathetic pain. Sympathy for the pain that Rose would feel.

  Rose struggled against Kallias, trying to escape his vice-like hold on her. “Let me go!” she cried as her eyes turned crimson-red. “I need to see my brother!”

  “No, Rose,” Kallias said sadly, holding her even tighter. “You don’t.”

  “I said…let…me…go!” Rose growled. Her eyes flashed a brighter red, and the entire house shook with each word, the furniture rattling against the floor.

  Then, with a loud crash, Kallias was thrown back into the wall, and Rose rushed up the stairs, running so fast that her form blurred before their eyes.

  Audrey leaned against the wall on the other side of the hall, covering her mouth with her hand to hold in the sympathetic sob that threatened to spill from her lips, her amber-colored eyes already full of unshed tears. Owen leaned against the wall beside her, staring at the floor, his expression full of horror and sadness.

  Kara held out her hand, helping Kallias to his feet. She stared up at him, her own heart thundering inside her chest. “Vampire blood?” she breathed.

  Kallias shook his head. “We tried,” he said quietly. “It didn’t work. It had been too long. He’d been…dead…too long.” He looked away, his jaw tightening.

  Kara didn’t say anything. She couldn’t. Not without crying, anyway.

  “His blood smelled unusual,” Kallias said. “It was a poison, wasn’t it?”

  Kara nodded, her cornflower-blue eyes burning with poignant sadness and empathy. She looked at Owen and Audrey. “Did anyone else eat the pizza?”

  Audrey cringed a little. “I was…uh…busy,” she mumbled regretfully.

  Owen shrugged uncomfortably. “I don’t need to eat…food…anymore.”

  Kara shifted her gaze toward Kallias. “The pizza needs to be thrown out, but bagged up well enough that no animals can get to it. It would kill them, too.”

  “We ate pizza yesterday,” Audrey told them, “and the day before that.”

  “And the day before that,” Owen added, his eyebrows lifting.

  Kara shook her head. “It’s not a slow poison. It kills you within hours,” she assured them. “If they’d tampered with the pizza before tonight, you’d already be dead. They waited until tonight. They watched Erik order the pizza every night to make sure it was a pattern. We shouldn’t have done something so predictable.”

  “Why would they do this?” Kallias sai
d. “Zach was an innocent human.”

  Kara staggered suddenly. Her eyes widened, flashing with pain, and she covered her chest with her hands. “Because of this,” she gasped as she caught herself against the wall. She glanced up at the ceiling, her heart racing. “Rose…”

  Kallias stepped forward, his brows creasing with concern. He held Kara’s elbow to steady her. “Her emotions?” he asked worriedly. “They’re that intense?”

  Kara’s entire body trembled, just from the intensity of the emotional pain that she sensed, emanating from Rose. “It doesn’t feel like Rose,” she whispered.

  Kallias didn’t have much time to react to that statement…because Rose suddenly raced past them, running down the stairs and out the door, before any of them even realized that it was her. “Where the hell is she going?” he muttered.

  “What do you mean?” Audrey asked breathlessly. “I didn’t see anything.”

  Erik came rushing down the stairs—but at a visible speed—his bright green eyes wide with worry. “I couldn’t stop her,” he told Kallias and Kara. “I don’t know where she’s going, but…something changed. She was feeling so much pain, and then, I don’t know. It was like she just cut it off. Her eyes turned black.”

  “Black?” Kallias said. “Why black, instead of red? What does that mean?”

  “I’m going to take a wild guess, and say something bad,” Erik muttered

  “I can find her,” Kara breathed, still clutching her chest. “I can feel her.”

  “Black,” Audrey mumbled. “I thought the red was creepy. But black?”

  Kara managed to steady herself on her feet again, despite the deep pain still burning inside of her. She looked up at Erik. “Protect Audrey and Owen.”

  “I will,” Erik said, his brows creased with sympathy, “with my life.”

  “I’ll help,” came another voice—a low, gruff voice—from behind them.

  Kara and Kallias turned to look at Tom, who stood in the doorway. Elise squeezed through the other vampires outside, running up to stand beside Tom.