Aaron looked away, his nostrils flaring, as he tried to control his pulse.
“What were your children’s names?” Rose continued. She took another step toward him, following him as he stepped back. “What stories did they like to hear when you tucked them in at night? What songs did they ask you to sing?”
A dangerous growl resounded from his throat. “I don’t remember!”
“You’re lying!” she screamed back—just as loud as he’d screamed at her.
Aaron stared at her, his entire body shaking with barely controlled rage.
Rose stepped back. “You want to know how I know?” she asked softly.
He looked away. Her sudden gentleness threw him off quite a bit, and—to the surprise of everyone in the room—he shrugged uncomfortably. “My pulse?”
“No,” Rose said with a sympathetic frown. “I can see it in your eyes.”
Aaron looked at her, his brows twisting with confusion. “What?”
“Your love for them,” Rose said, so quietly that he barely even heard her.
Aaron stared at her incredulously. “That’s… That’s bullshit,” he finally managed to say, after a long silence. “You’re fucking delusional. You know that?”
Rose raised an eyebrow, watching as he practically paced the floor, trying to calm himself down. “No, Aaron. No one is asking you to dance around my feelings. What I would ask you to do is this: don’t give me false hope,” she said. He froze, turning toward her with a confused frown. “Don’t make me think this pain is going to go away when it won’t. Just tell me the truth: it will always hurt.”
Aaron just stared at her for a few moments, his dark eyes wide, his brows creased. And for a moment—the briefest moment—Rose thought she glimpsed a hint of sympathy in his normally emotionless features. But then, he looked away, his jaw tightening. “If we’re all in agreement that we should save the world so we can continue hating it,” he told everyone, “we need to pack our bags for Canada.”
With that, Aaron spun around and left the room, leaving no room for argument or questions, and leaving no time for anyone to analyze the conversation that he and Rose had just had. They heard his tennis shoes squeaking on the stairs.
Kallias waited until almost everyone had left the room before he turned toward Rose. He kept his emotions carefully masked. “I assume you’re going?”
Rose shrugged. “I have to help. I can’t sit here and do nothing while…”
“Spare me the speech,” he interrupted. He turned to leave. “Goodbye.”
“Kallias,” Rose said, her brows creasing with pain. When he glanced back at her, watching her curiously, she shrugged. “Then, I guess…you’re not going?”
“Of course not,” Kallias said. “I’m not going to be Aaron’s little soldier.”
“Well, obviously not,” Rose said dryly. “You’re six and a half feet tall.”
To her surprise, his lips twitched up slightly at that. “I’ll stay here and protect your friends,” he told her. “I won’t let them out of my sight. I promise.”
Tears of gratitude pricked at her eyes, blurring her vision. “Thank you.”
Kallias straightened, clearly disconcerted by the sight of tears in her eyes. “It’s fine. I…don’t mind,” he muttered. He opened his mouth, obviously wanting to say something else, but then, he thought better of it. He turned to leave, but when he passed Erik on his way to the foyer, he said, “You’re going with them.”
Erik blinked. “I am?” he asked, but Kallias didn’t answer him. He just kept walking, his footsteps echoing up the staircase. Erik turned toward Rose and Kara—the only ones left in the room—and shrugged. “I guess I need to pack.”
After he left, too, Kara unfolded herself from the sofa with a gracefulness Rose couldn’t help but admire. She took a few steps forward, until they were only a few feet from each other, and she stopped, studying Rose with a worried frown.
“I’m fine,” Rose said. “I can’t feel the effects of the overuse anymore.”
“I’m glad,” Kara said, but she didn’t look any less worried. She tilted her head to the side, and a strand of blue hair fell forward. “Are you sure about this?”
“Yeah, yeah, of course,” Rose said. “Just…one question: will it be cold?”
Kara smiled. “Talulah’s colony is in the middle of the Arctic. So…yes.”
Rose wrinkled her nose, as if she were thoroughly disgusted. “Dang it.”
—
Audrey confronted Rose in the foyer. “Erik said you were leaving?”
Kara glanced at Rose. “I’ll pack your bags and meet you back here,” she said softly. She reached out and squeezed Rose’s hand before she headed upstairs.
“I am,” Rose told Audrey sadly, “but not for long. We’ll be back soon.”
Audrey wrung her hands worriedly. “What about us? You’re leaving us?”
“Kallias is staying here with you,” Rose explained. “He’ll protect you.”
“We’d feel safer with you,” Audrey said. “Don’t you want to protect us?”
“Of course, but…” Rose shrugged helplessly. “Aaron says they need me for the alliance. Besides,” she paused, her bright blue eyes shining with tears, “I’m no good here, anyway. If I were any good at protecting people, Zach wouldn’t…”
Audrey immediately stepped forward, her brows twisting with sympathy, as Rose began to cry. “Oh, Rose,” she sighed, gathering Rose into her arms, hugging her tightly. She stepped back, pulling Rose with her. “Come with me.”
—
Audrey reached into the freezer and pulled out a store-bought chocolate pie. She took it out of its box and grabbed a fork from the drawer. Then, she marched over to the table, where Rose sat, and dropped the entire pie in front of Rose. She planted her hands on her hips and demanded, “Eat the chocolate.”
Rose wiped angrily at her eyes, frustrated with herself for breaking down. “Audrey,” she said slowly, grimacing at the frozen pie, “I don’t eat human food.”
Audrey tapped her foot angrily. “You’ll eat it now. Because I said so.”
Rose raised her eyebrow. “Yes, ma’am,” she said in her sassiest tone.
With a satisfied smile, Audrey sat in the chair, across from Rose. “You can’t grieve without pie,” she told Rose, leaning forward, her tangled, brown hair falling forward, over her gray, Mickey Mouse sweatshirt. “You’re also supposed to have a fridge full of casseroles, but we’ll just have to make do without them.”
Rose laughed a little at that. “I really don’t want the pie,” she complained, as she reluctantly picked at it with her fork. “Blood tastes better than chocolate.”
“Don’t you dare gross me out while I’m being nice to you,” Audrey said, pointing her finger at Rose. “I have morning sickness right now, and I will puke.”
“Okay, okay,” Rose laughed. “I’ll pretend to be human…for the sake of your stomach.” She placed a bite of chocolate in her mouth and said, “Mmmm.”
“That was the least enthusiastic mmmm I’ve ever heard,” Audrey muttered.
Rose chuckled. “No, to be honest, though, it’s not as bad as I thought it’d be,” she admitted, taking another bite of the pie, “it’s not satisfying at all, but the flavors are more vivid than before. It’s as if I can identify every ingredient.”
“Huh. Weird,” Audrey mumbled. She propped her face in her hands and smiled at Rose. “Now that I’ve supplied you with chocolate, it’s time to talk. I’m sorry about your brother. He’s in a better place. Blah, blah, blah… Your turn.”
Rose lifted her eyebrows at her best friend. “Blah, blah, blah?”
Audrey shrugged. “You know as well as I do that the generic stuff doesn’t help. Who the hell cares if he’s in a better place, right? I mean, I guess it might be a comforting thought, eventually, if you believe in heaven. But it’s not comforting right now. Right now, you want him here. Right now, you want him to be alive.”
Rose wiped at her eyes as m
ore tears began to fall. “Yeah,” she agreed.
“Rose, it’s not your fault,” Audrey said. “You do realize that, right?”
Rose gave her a sad smile. “That’s what you told me after my mom died.”
“It was true, then, too,” Audrey sighed. “You can’t save everyone, Rose.”
“Everyone keeps telling me that,” Rose mumbled, “but…I have to try.”
“Yeah. Because you’re a freaking superhero,” Audrey said. “You realize that, right? I admire you. You’re out there changing things. You’ve done more in the last month to change the world than I’ll do my whole life. I see problems, and I want to help, sometimes, but my actions have minimal effects. Unlike yours.”
“But,” Rose stammered, “I thought…you said that I was a monster.”
Audrey rolled her eyes. “Oh, come on. You know to take everything I say with a grain of salt. I’m a bitch. We know this,” she said, waving her hand. “I was scared when I said that, and I thought I’d lost you. But over the last few days, I’ve come to realize that even if you’ve changed, you’re still my best friend.”
Rose scrubbed at her swollen eyes with the back of her hands. “Thanks.”
Audrey grabbed Rose’s hands and pulled them away from her face. “You’re the comic book nerd. You know as well as I do that even superheroes can’t save everyone. I mean, even Superman couldn’t save Uncle Ben, right?”
“Spider-Man,” Rose said with a scowl. “Uncle Ben is from Spider-Man.”
Audrey glared at Rose. “Okay, see if I try to comfort you ever again.”
Rose laughed. “I do appreciate it,” she said seriously. “I’ve missed you.”
Audrey nodded. “But now, I’m here, and you’re leaving me again.”
“I know,” Rose said. “I’m sorry. But this war will affect all of us, and our best chance of preventing it is to put an end to the Assassins of Light before it starts, and we need alliances to do that. And I’m…a bargaining chip, apparently.”
“Goodness, Rose,” Audrey sighed, “you’re more than a bargaining chip.”
“Maybe. I hope so,” Rose said softly. “I want to help. In any way I can.”
“But right now?” Audrey asked. She leaned back in her chair, her brows creasing with concern. “Don’t you think you should give yourself time to grieve?”
Rose raked her fork over the pie, drawing an odd symbol in the whipped cream. “If the world ends, there won’t be time for anything. The world comes before me. If we all survive, then, I’ll have time to process everything I’ve lost.”
Audrey shrugged in defeat. “I just worry about you. I don’t think you’re taking care of yourself. You never do,” she muttered. She leaned forward and swiped through the whipped cream, licking it off her finger, but Rose still didn’t look up—not even to make a snarky remark about germs. She just continued to rake her fork absently through the whipped cream. Audrey sighed and leaned her face against her hand. “Are you sure you trust Kallias with your friends’ lives?”
“I’d trust Kallias with anything,” Rose said. “I know he’ll keep you safe.”
Audrey lifted her eyebrows in surprise. “You still love him, don’t you?”
Rose looked up at her, pinning her with a blank stare. “No. I completely and totally forgot all of my feelings for him in one day,” she said sarcastically.
“And you’re still sassy,” Audrey complained. “That’s some powerful sass.”
Rose smiled at her. “I need to get my bags, but thank you for the pie.”
“You didn’t eat the pie,” Audrey pointed out, “and it’s not even mine.”
Rose pushed her chair back and stood. She headed toward the door.
“Hey, Rose?” Audrey called out, before Rose could leave. She reached out and dragged the pie across the table, so that she could get a closer look at the strange symbol in the whipped cream. She frowned at Rose. “Did you draw this?”
Rose just shrugged. “I don’t draw. You’re the artist, not me,” she said dismissively. Then, she spun around and left the room without a second thought.
Audrey stared at the symbol, her eyes widening. “Then, who drew it?”
—
“They won’t taste great because they’re not fresh from the source,” Tom said as he loaded down Owen’s arms with blood bags, “but they’ll stave off the hunger.” He offered Owen a friendly smile. “And we’ll only be gone a few days.”
Owen stared at the large pile of blood bags in his arms, his brows raised.
“It’s human blood,” Tom said. “So, you’ll feed more often than usual.”
“Oh,” Owen said, nodding as he understood. “That explains a lot.”
Tom chuckled. Then, he tilted his face forward and completely stunned Owen—even more than he already had—by kissing him. He held Owen’s face in his hand, kissing him gently and passionately. Owen blinked in shock, at first, but then, he leaned into the kiss, only to be held back by the blood bags in his arms.
Tom pulled back when he heard someone coming up the stairs, and he turned, raising an eyebrow at Rose as she froze awkwardly at the top of the stairs.
“Oh, gosh, I’m sorry,” Rose muttered, glancing back and forth between them. She pointed uncomfortably at the staircase. “I’ll just walk back downstairs.”
“It’s fine,” Tom said with a grin. “I was just telling your friend goodbye.”
Rose nodded awkwardly as Tom spun around and headed into his room to pack—the guest room that happened to be right across the hall from Owen’s.
Owen looked ghostly pale, as if he’d gone into shock. He stared at the door of Tom’s room, his eyes wide, and he leaned heavily against his own door.
Rose’s lips twitched into an amused smile. “Are you all right, Owen?”
He looked at her, and to her surprise, his shocked, hazel eyes somehow managed to widen even more. “He’s never done that before!” he whispered.
“Tom, the two-hundred-and-something-year-old vampire, has never kissed anyone before?” Rose said dryly. “Somehow, I find that hard to believe.”
Owen scowled. “He’s never kissed me before,” he amended. But then, he frowned. “Well, there may have been a few times when I was…um…feeding. But that doesn’t count, does it?” He looked at her, suddenly unsure. “Wait. Does it?”
Rose lifted her eyebrows. “I’m probably not the best person to ask.”
He frowned at that as he adjusted the blood bags in his arms. “Why not?”
“Because I overthink and overanalyze everything,” she reminded him, a guilty smile tugging at her lips. “So, to me, everything counts. Literally everything.”
Owen chuckled at that. But then, after a moment, his smile faded, and his brows twisted with sympathy. “Rose, I’m sorry about Zach,” he said quietly.
Rose looked away, her eyes burning with the tears she kept trying not to cry. “Yeah,” she sighed, after a moment of pain-filled silence. “Yeah. Me, too.”
Owen stepped forward, but then, he glanced down at the blood bags in his arms with a frustrated scowl. “Let me go put these down so I can hug you.”
Rose followed him into his room, watching as he placed the pile of blood bags on the bed and turned back toward her. “You don’t have to hug me, Owen.”
He pulled her into a tight hug. “Yeah, I do. You’re my best friend.”
She stepped back, wincing nervously. “Still? Even after…what I did?”
Owen sighed, “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that, actually.”
“Oh,” Rose said, cringing in anticipation. “That’s not ominous at all.”
“It’s not what you’re thinking,” he laughed. “Just…sit down. Please?”
She nodded. “Good thinking. It’s always easier to get screamed at when you’re sitting down,” she said sarcastically as she sat down on the edge of the bed.
He chuckled and leaned against the dresser. “I freaked out a little when I first awoke as…this,” he a
dmitted, shrugging apologetically. “It was…jarring.”
“Yeah,” she sighed. “It was for me, too. I think it’s like that for all of us. I mean, we die. We actually die. And then, we just…wake up from death. Hungry.”
Owen nodded. “Very hungry,” he agreed. He looked away, frowning thoughtfully. “So, yeah, it was scary, at first. But then, I had time to think, and I realized,” he paused, his hazel eyes shifting toward her, “I don’t want to be dead.”
Rose straightened, her eyes widening. “Wait. So, you’re not angry at me?”
He shrugged. “I know you did what you thought was right,” he said, “and I can’t ask any more than that from you. And like I said, I’d be dead otherwise.”
Her shoulders dropped with relief. “I was afraid you’d never forgive me.”
“Rose, it wasn’t your fault I died,” he said. “You do know that, right?”
She glanced down at her hands. “The Assassins of Light were after me.”
“I told Jared where I was, Rose,” he reminded her. “The only person at fault—other than him, of course—is me.” He shrugged. “Jared sent me so many messages, and I shouldn’t have read them. But I did. And he was apologizing and saying that I should’ve known he would never hurt me. He sounded so remorseful, and I fell for it. That was on me. You and Kara warned me, and I didn’t listen.”
“He manipulated you,” Rose said, “and he was clearly very good at it.”
“They all are,” he sighed. He looked away. “To be honest, I don’t even place all of the blame on him. He learned it from his parents. I didn’t see it when I was living with them, but looking back on it…well, hindsight’s twenty-twenty, I guess.” His gaze shifted back toward her. “He didn’t really care about me. Maybe a little. But not truly. He didn’t have the capacity for anything other than hatred. It’s how his parents were. His mother is the Commander of the base in Florida, after all. When they realize that Jared’s dead, I doubt they’ll even shed a tear.”
The Assassins of Light Page 48
