The Assassins of Light

by Britney Jackson

  “This one is a very simple dagger,” Kara growled in his ear. “Easy to use, cheap to buy, simple to make. But if you know what you’re doing, it’s one of the deadliest weapons you can get. And believe me, Assassin. I know what I’m doing.”

  He didn’t move. He barely even breathed. “I didn’t do anything wrong.”

  “And I have to believe you. For now. Because I have no evidence,” Kara said, releasing him so abruptly that his face slammed into the floor. She stood and circled around him. Then, she crouched in front of him and lifted his face, so she could see the fear in his hazel eyes and the blood that oozed from his busted lip. “But if I find out that you were involved in Zach’s death in any way…at all,” she growled, leaning in close, so she could whisper, “I’ll give you a very personal look at all of my weapons, complete with a demonstration of how much damage each and every one of them can do.” She released him, finally. “Sleep well, Assassin.”

  Isaac watched from the floor, as Kara turned and strode out of his room.

  —

  “Rose, you’re bleeding.”

  Rose opened her eyes, her vision blurred with tears. She reluctantly lifted her hand to touch her face, feeling the warm, sticky blood that poured from her nose. She pulled her hand back, staring blankly at the blood on her fingers. In her peripheral vision, she saw Kara’s blurred form, returning from the bathroom.

  Kara sat down beside her, the bed sinking beneath her weight. “Sit up.”

  Rose pushed herself up, unsteadily, into a sitting position. Her head still felt heavy from all of the hours of crying. She watched tiredly as Kara unfolded a drenched washcloth. When Kara lifted the cloth to clean the blood from Rose’s face, Rose tried to catch her wrist, but Kara reversed it, somehow, where she had Rose’s wrist in her grasp, instead. “I can do it myself,” Rose mumbled stubbornly.

  “Rose, you’re exhausted,” Kara said sadly. “Please, let me help you.”

  Rose sighed in defeat, “Saying please should be considered cheating.”

  Kara laughed, “That would only encourage me.” She released Rose’s wrist and returned to cleaning the blood from Rose’s face. She gently wiped away the blood, her brows creasing with sympathetic pain, as she noticed the reddened skin around Rose’s bright blue eyes, which were raw from crying, the deep, sunken bruises beneath her eyes, caused by the lack of sleep during the day, and finally, the fatigue and depression that pulled at every feature of Rose’s face, caused partly by the overuse. But also by the grief. “When did the headache start?”

  Rose tried to shrug, but her shoulders barely even moved. “Honestly, I don’t remember,” she sighed. “I just assumed it was caused by all of the crying.”

  Kara nodded. “As a vampire, you should always assume that a headache is overuse. Vampires like me, who don’t have psychic abilities, don’t get them.”

  “Oh. I didn’t realize,” Rose said, but it didn’t sound like she really cared.

  Kara lowered her hand, placing the washcloth in her lap, as she watched the sadness that glistened in Rose’s eyes. “You should feed. It’d help you heal.”

  “I’m fine,” Rose mumbled, but she didn’t even meet Kara’s gaze when she said it. She stared at the quilt that was spread across the bed, beneath them, her brows furrowed, as if she were lost in thought. “I keep trying to remember,” she said softly, her voice barely a whisper, “but I can’t remember anything I did.”

  Kara’s eyes widened in surprise. “You don’t remember last night? At all?”

  “I remember the corpses,” Rose said hollowly. “I saw them. Afterward.”

  “Yeah,” Kara said with as much gentleness as possible, “that was…you.”

  “I assumed it was,” Rose mumbled. “I just don’t remember doing it.”

  “You were…very upset,” Kara said carefully. “The ones you killed—they were the ones who killed your brother. It’s understandable that you’d kill them.”

  “Not to me,” Rose muttered. “I don’t hurt people, even when they hurt me. So, why did I do it last night? Besides, I don’t blame them. I blame myself.”

  Kara stared at Rose, her brows creasing with pain, as she heard Rose’s painfully honest confession. “Rose,” she breathed. She tossed the washcloth aside and climbed onto her knees, clasping Rose’s hands between her own. She leaned over Rose, her black and blue hair falling between them. “It wasn’t your fault.”

  Rose blinked up at Kara, stunned by the sincerity in her light blue eyes, by the tight, desperate grasp of her hands, by the pain in her voice. “They killed him because of me. If we’d let them kill me when they tried, he’d still be alive.”

  Just the suggestion of such a thing caused pain to twist at Kara’s brows. Kara brought their joined hands closer to her chest, and she tilted her face closer, as if she needed to whisper something utterly important. “Rose. Listen to me…”

  But…of course, someone chose that moment to knock at their door.

  Kara turned her head and narrowed her eyes at the door. She turned back toward Rose, clearly planning to ignore it, but then, three more knocks sounded at the door. “Fucking asshole,” she snarled, dropping Rose’s hands. She climbed off of the bed and strode toward the door. She rested her hand on the doorknob and turned, casting a regretful glance at Rose. “This will only take a moment.”

  Rose raised an eyebrow and waved her hand encouragingly.

  Kara opened the door and narrowed her eyes at the vampire in the hall.

  “I knocked,” Aaron said irritably, “and you still think I’m an asshole?”

  Kara raised an eyebrow. “Did you think that was your only wrongdoing?”

  “I’ve called a meeting downstairs,” Aaron said. “I need you down there.”

  “I know you don’t remember what it’s like to be a sane person with real feelings,” she said slowly, “but even you should understand: I am busy right now.”

  Frustration flashed in his dark eyes as he stepped forward, toward her. “War is coming, Kara. I need you. The entire fucking world needs you right now.”

  Kara sighed, “Fine. Give me two minutes, and I’ll meet you down there.”

  He caught the door before she could close it. “I need Rose there, too.”

  Her eyes widened. “Have you lost your mind?” she hissed, leaning closer to him. “Her brother died last night, Aaron! She’s hurting. Give her time to grieve.”

  “She has the rest of her immortality to grieve,” Aaron said coldly. “Right now, she is needed. That is, unless she wants to lose everyone else she loves, too.”

  “How dare you,” Kara growled. “I won’t let you treat her like some…”

  “It’s okay, Kara,” Rose sighed, her soft, weakened voice startling them.

  Kara turned, her brows creasing with concern as she found Rose right behind her, watching them with swollen, tear-soaked eyes. “Rose…are you sure?”

  Rose felt so weakened by the lack of sleep and the overuse that she could barely stand. Her eyes burned from all of the tears she’d cried, and her bright red hair hung, tangled, around her face. Her clothes felt damp, still, with blood and rain. She figured that she looked as terrible as she felt, but she stepped forward, anyway. And she immediately staggered. But Kara swept her arm around Rose’s waist, catching her so casually that it was barely even noticeable. “Aaron’s right,” Rose sighed. “We have to stop this war. We don’t have time for my…grief.”

  Kara stared at Rose, sympathetic pain burning in her light blue eyes. “Ah, my love,” she murmured, her voice low and quiet, softly accented, “you know I love your strength and bravery, but I also love you. You need to think of yourself.”

  “I can’t,” Rose said stubbornly. “If I’m alive…I have to keep fighting.”

  Aaron raised an eyebrow. “Then, I’ll see you both in two minutes?”

  Rose nodded tiredly. “Just…let me change clothes first,” she muttered.

  “Make it fifteen minutes,” Kara told him, and then,
she closed the door before he could object. She turned toward Rose, keeping her arm around Rose’s waist so that Rose wouldn’t fall. “If you insist on doing this, you must feed first.”

  Rose stared at her for a moment, but then, she nodded. “Okay. Thanks.”

  —

  As soon as Rose stepped into the living room, everyone fell silent. She froze in the doorway, blinking in shock, as she realized that every vampire in the room was staring directly at her. “Oh, great,” she said sarcastically. “What every socially-awkward person wants: a whole room full of people staring at them.”

  Elise, sweet as always, averted her gaze and elbowed Tom, who did the same. The rest of the vampires, on the other hand, continued to gawk at Rose.

  Until Kara cleared her throat.

  They were all quick to avert their gazes, then.

  Elise waved Rose and Kara over, and they squeezed onto the sofa, next to Elise and Tom. They all watched as Aaron stepped forward, preparing to speak.

  “As I’m sure you all remember, we failed to complete our mission last night because of…personal issues,” Aaron said bitterly. He shot an irritated look at Kara, who simply stared back at him defiantly. “But fortunately, Rose took it upon herself to go back and…not only complete the mission,” he said, his brows high, “but also kill every single Assassin of Light at that base while she was at it.”

  All of the vampires stared at Rose, as if she were a freak of nature. Again.

  But Rose just continued to stare at her hands, which lay idly in her lap.

  “According to Nina,” Aaron said, waving his hand at the young brunette, who used to be an Assassin of Light, “the base in New York City was one of their largest and most powerful bases, so this attack should significantly weaken them.”

  “It might also make them more aggressive,” Isaac added. His hazel eyes assessed Rose with a cold, sick curiosity that she could feel, like slime on her skin. “Since they’ve encountered a real monster now. And by monster, I mean…her.”

  “Yes, Isaac,” Tom muttered irritably. His brown eyes narrowed at the former Assassin of Light. “I think everyone in the room knew who you meant.”

  Kara leaned forward, pinning Isaac with a dangerous glare. “When I do kill you,” she growled, “it will be the most painful thing you’ve ever experienced.”

  “Kara!” Aaron snapped, spinning toward her. His dark gaze flashed with rage. “You’re not killing anyone until I give the command.” But then, he turned to Isaac. “Which will be a lot sooner, if he doesn’t learn to keep his mouth shut.”

  Isaac straightened, a mixture of fear and anger flashing in his hazel eyes.

  Rose concentrated harder on her hands, in an effort to ignore the stares that she was getting, but when she felt her skin literally burning under her own gaze, she realized that she might’ve concentrated a little too hard. She straightened, blinking, and then, she felt Kara’s hands on hers, covering them. She glanced over at Kara, meeting Kara’s worried, ice-blue gaze, and she shrugged, trying to convey silently that it had been an accident. Kara nodded and lifted Rose’s slightly-burned hands to her lips, kissing them lightly. Thankfully, Kara made it look natural, and no one in the room seemed to notice. Rose certainly didn’t want more attention.

  “The point is,” Aaron sighed, “last night was definitely a win for us.”

  “That’s a bit insensitive, isn’t it?” Elise muttered under her breath.

  Aaron turned toward her. “Do you have a problem with that, Elise?”

  Elise spread out her hands, refusing to meet his gaze. “No. I just…”

  “Oh, ease up, Aaron,” Kara complained. “No one’s questioning you.”

  Aaron shot a peeved glare at Kara, but he backed down, anyway. “But it would be premature to celebrate that win because,” he paused, leaning against the coffee table, “we, most likely, still have a war to fight, and we need to prepare.”

  “You’re suggesting that we prepare to fight humans?” Kallias asked.

  Aaron glanced toward the doorway as Kallias stepped into the living room. After eavesdropping, apparently. “Why not? They’re preparing to fight us.”

  “They’re afraid,” Kallias said. “We are predators, designed to kill them.”

  “Their governments have armies and weapons,” Aaron reminded him, “and the Assassins of Light have their own weapons. Weapons that can kill us.”

  “I realize that,” Kallias said bitterly, “but there must be other options.”

  “Do you think I want war?” Aaron said, his dark eyes narrowing. “I have spent the last four thousand years trying to prevent this war. But if this does come to war, we must fight. Unless you want to see the extinction of our entire species.”

  “Better us than them,” Kallias muttered. “We should be dead, anyway.”

  Aaron growled at that. “Twenty-five hundred years ago, I spared your life, and I have tolerated your insane habits since then. Don’t make me regret it.”

  Kallias laughed, “You don’t honestly think I’m scared of you, do you?”

  Erik threw his hands up in frustration. “Am I the only one dying to know what happened that night?” he muttered. “I mean, it must’ve been one hell of a meeting for you two to still be fighting about it twenty-five hundred years later.”

  Aaron ignored Erik’s remarks. “Stay here, if you want,” he told Kallias, “and keep pretending that you’re something you’re not. But the war is coming.”

  “So,” Tom said, glancing back and forth between Aaron and Kallias, as he tried to figure out if they were done fighting, “how do we prepare for this war?”

  “The humans are united,” Aaron said, turning toward him. “They might not always look united, but they’re always just one step away from it. All it takes is a threat like us. And if the humans unite against us, we must unite against them.”

  “Which means,” Kara added in explanation, “we need to forge alliances.”

  “Haven’t we already done that?” one of the other vampires asked. Bradley, Rose remembered. Kara had called him Bradley. “With that colony in London?”

  “We’ve allied with a few colonies,” Kara said, “but we’re not united yet.”

  “None of the alliances will do us any good, if we’re not all united,” Aaron explained, “and in order for us all to be united, we need to forge an alliance with Talulah and the Village of the Undead. Fortunately, she’s agreed to meet with us.”

  “The Village of the Undead?” Rose muttered. “Who names these places?”

  Kara glanced at Rose, a small smile curving at the edges of her lips. “The leaders,” she whispered, tilting her face closer. “It’s meant to be easy to translate.”

  Rose tried to smile, but her lips barely even twitched. “That’s no excuse.”

  Kara chuckled at the snarky remark, but her brows creased as she noticed the pain pulling at Rose’s face. Rose was obviously trying to hide her pain, but it was still there, draining the light from her features. Kara reached out and threaded her fingers through Rose’s, watching as Rose’s gaze darted up to meet hers.

  “Why would Talulah forge an alliance with you?” Kallias asked Aaron.

  “Yeah, I was kind of wondering that, too, actually,” Erik said, wincing as Aaron turned his deadly glare toward him. Erik spread out his hands, shrugging uneasily. “I just mean…don’t you and Talulah disagree on like…everything?”

  “She’s a weak leader,” Aaron said irritably. “She believes in democracy.”

  “Oh, no,” Rose muttered under her breath. “Not democracy. How taboo.”

  “But,” Aaron added, “I have no choice. We need this alliance with her.”

  Kallias leaned against the doorframe and crossed his arms. “Honestly, I don’t know why any colony would forge an alliance with you. I mean, you’re not really the picture of diplomacy, are you? Considering what you did in order to rise to power, I’d be surprised if any powerful vampires were eager to work with you.”

&nbs
p; Aaron scowled at him. “Well, that just shows how much you don’t know about war, Philosopher,” he said, sneering the word philosopher. “You all hate people like me until it comes time for war, and then, you all flock behind me. Because, as much as you might hate the way I am, you all know I’m good at what I do.”

  Kara leaned back, her warm, lean body pressing against Rose’s side, and then she draped her arm casually around Rose’s shoulder and leaned in close. “At this rate, the humans are going to win the war before these two stop arguing.”

  Rose chuckled a little at that. The deep sadness in her chest seemed to permeate everything—her body, mind, and soul—and it created a terrible, insistent ache that couldn’t be soothed. But with Kara’s arm around her and Kara’s soft, lilting voice in her ear, that sadness felt a little less overwhelming.

  “Besides,” Aaron said, turning toward Rose, “I have a bargaining chip.”

  Erik frowned. Then, he followed Aaron’s gaze. “What? You mean Rose?”

  “No. I’m sure he’s staring at me like that for no reason,” Rose muttered.

  Kallias dropped his arms and took a step toward Aaron. “You can’t be serious,” he hissed, as if Rose couldn’t hear him—even though she could. “After what happened last night, you expect her to get on a plane and fly off to Canada?”

  Aaron shrugged aggressively. “As opposed to what?” he sneered. “Staying here and weeping? Planning a funeral for the corpse we’ve already disposed of?”

  Kara’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Fucking hell, Aaron,” she breathed.

  Aaron spun toward her, advancing on her every bit as aggressively as he’d advanced on Kallias. “What? Am I supposed to dance around her feelings? Am I supposed to pretend that this isn’t how it is for vampires? All of us have lost our families. Life goes on. In four thousand years, she won’t even remember him.”

  “Really?” Rose said. It was the first time she’d spoken up, the first time she’d even been given the chance to speak up, and her soft, hoarse-from-crying voice startled them. She stood up, carefully, and Aaron took a step back, his dark eyes wide and wary. “Aaron,” she said, “tell me: what was your wife’s name?” She tilted her head to the side. “How did she smell? How did she like to be touched?”