The Assassins of Light

by Britney Jackson

  “Rose,” Kara said, her gaze softening with affection, “you could never be evil. I know that as well as I know how fast your heart is beating right now.” Her gaze flickered down toward Rose’s chest, where she heard Rose’s heart racing with fear. “If you can go through all of the shit you’ve been through and remain good, then you don’t have to worry about a bit of power. You’ll always be good.”

  Rose looked away. “But…you saw what I did the night Zach died. You saw what I did to Osiris when he attacked you. I don’t even remember doing it, but I did. I’m not sure that a good person could have done something like that.”

  “I saw it,” Kara agreed, “and…it’s hard to explain, but Rose, that wasn’t you. Whatever it was—it wasn’t you. Not to mention, even that, you did because of love. And love isn’t evil, is it? How could it be? It’s the definition of good.”

  Rose smiled wryly. “I mean, technically, it isn’t,” she corrected, “but I get what you mean.” Her smile faded. “It’s just…sometimes, I feel like I’ve fallen into a hole. A dark, shapeless hole. What happens when I can’t find my way out?”

  Kara stepped toward her, suddenly, and she lifted her hands, sliding them over Rose’s face, her touch warm and light. She leaned into Rose and pressed her forehead against Rose’s. Their faces tilted closer. Their breath mingled together. And Kara whispered, “I’ll call you back.” Her words were low and lilting, breathy and thick with emotion. “I’ll be your beacon. I’ll show you the way out. I’ll go into the hole with you, if I need to. But I’ll never let go. I’ll never give up on you.”

  Rose closed her eyes, overwhelmed, in that moment, by the warm scent of Kara, by the quick pulse of her heart, by the quaking sincerity in her voice. Her chest felt too tight, and hyperactive butterflies fluttered around in her stomach.

  Kara tilted her head, her lips brushing against Rose’s, her breath catching.

  The door opened, and the scent of jasmine and sandalwood wafted into the room. Kara released Rose and stepped back, flashing a sly smile at Talulah.

  “I don’t remember you being particularly religious, Kara,” Talulah said.

  Rose buried her face in a book, hoping it would hide her flushed skin, erratic pulse, and labored breathing, but…well, she was asking a lot from a book.

  “Believe it or not, Talulah,” Kara said with a wicked smirk, “I was deeply engaged in a moment of reverence and feeling when you so rudely interrupted.”

  Talulah lifted an eyebrow. “In that case, carry on,” she said, waving her hand. “There’s a shrine for the Norse gods over there…if you’d like to worship.”

  “Nah,” Kara said. She leaned against a shrine, her icy blue eyes sparkling with mischief. “I prefer to worship my goddess on my knees. In the bedroom.”

  Rose dropped her book. “Oh my word,” she mumbled, her eyes wide.

  But Talulah just smiled and muttered, “Yeah. I remember.”

  Kara laughed and stepped away from the shrine. “Goodnight, Talulah,” she said, tugging a very stunned Rose along behind her, as she headed to the door.

  —

  Rose leaned against the dresser, frowning curiously, as she watched Kara and Erik play some kind of board game. They sat in the floor, on the rug in front of the fireplace, with a strange, wooden board between them, moving stone pieces and tossing something that looked a little like dice. “What are you two playing?”

  Kara leaned forward and moved her game piece, smiling triumphantly as she shoved Erik’s pieces off the board. “It’s an old board game we used to play.”

  “Back in our Viking days,” Erik said, grimacing at his side of the board.

  “It looks kind of like chess,” Rose said as she watched them, “with dice.”

  “It’s similar,” Kara told her. Then, she smiled and moved another piece.

  Erik shot a peeved look at Kara and moved a stone piece on his side of the board. “Do you want to play the winner?” he asked Rose, during Kara’s turn.

  Rose raised an eyebrow. “I wouldn’t know how to play the loser. So, no.”

  Erik glanced down at the board and then back up at Kara, his eyes wide.

  Kara leaned back, resting her weight on her hands, and grinned at him.

  Rose glanced back and forth between them. “Did something happen?”

  “Yeah,” Erik muttered bitterly, emptying the board. “She won. Again.”

  “I always win,” Kara said. She tilted her head back. “Play with me, Rose.”

  “No,” Rose said with an amused smile, “because I know you’ll cheat.”

  Kara winked at her. She held out her hand, revealing the hidden pieces.

  Erik gaped at her. “That’s how you’ve been beating me? All this time?”

  Rose rolled her eyes. “You’ve known her for thirteen hundred years, and it never occurred to you that the lying, cheating spymaster might be cheating?”

  Erik sulked about his loss the entire time he was putting up the game. Afterward, he strode over to Rose and asked—out of nowhere, “How’s your grief?”

  Rose spread out her arms bewilderedly. “What kind of question is that?”

  His bright green eyes narrowed shrewdly. “The kind of question you ask someone who’s grieving,” he said unapologetically, “and pretending they’re not.”

  “Oh, okay,” Rose said sassily. “How’s your grief, Erik? Have you cried about Alana lately? See? It’s not the most pleasant question to be asked, is it?”

  Erik shrugged. “I cried about Alana for three hours today. Your turn.”

  Rose winced. “Yeah, I wasn’t expecting you to actually answer that.”

  He sighed, “Am I the only one here who’s not afraid of my feelings?”

  Rose and Kara looked at each other and responded, in unison, “Yes.”

  “End of the world or not,” Erik said, “you can’t just bury your feelings.”

  “If I want to bury my feelings under a truckload of sarcasm and pretend they don’t exist, I have every right to do so,” Rose declared, throwing out her arms. “This is America! Unhealthy emotional habits are what we’re founded on.”

  “This is Canada, actually,” Kara reminded her. “We’re in Canada now.”

  Rose nodded, frowning thoughtfully. “Is Canada emotionally-healthy?”

  Kara shrugged.

  Erik rolled his eyes. “You have to find a way to deal with it.”

  “You could kill someone,” Kara offered. “That’s how I deal with grief.”

  Rose stared at her. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure that’s not emotionally healthy.”

  “When I’m sad,” Erik said, “I drink too much and make bad decisions.”

  “How is that any different from every other day of your life?” Rose said.

  Erik nodded. “Good point,” he admitted. The three of them were quiet for a moment, and then, Erik said, “You could deal with it the way Kallias does.”

  Kara glanced up at Erik. “How does Kallias deal with his feelings?”

  Rose flashed a sassy smile at her. “He gives me the silent treatment,” she said with false lightness. She glanced at the clock. “For…three days, apparently.”

  “Mature,” Kara muttered as she pulled her phone out of her pocket.

  “Yeah, well. I deserve it,” Rose sighed. She turned toward Erik, suddenly serious. “Do you think I should call him? What if something happened?”

  “Nothing happened,” Erik told her. “I’m sure he’ll call. Eventually.”

  Rose studied him suspiciously. “He called you,” she realized, “didn’t he?”

  Erik cringed. “Maybe. But just to give me updates. And to check on you.”

  Rose frowned. “He must really not want to talk to me, then.”

  “He’ll call, eventually,” Erik said. “He can’t hold a grudge that long.”

  “Of course not,” Rose said sarcastically. “It’s not like he hated Theron and Phoebe for thousands of years. Or Aaron. Or every liar who’s ever existed.” />
  Erik grimaced. “That is…a valid point, actually,” he admitted.

  “I might as well face it,” Rose muttered. “He’s never going to call me.”

  “He says he’ll call you in seventeen minutes,” Kara said suddenly.

  Rose spun toward her. “What?” she sputtered. She glanced at the phone in Kara’s hand, which still had the message on the screen. “Wait, you texted him?”

  Erik frowned at Kara. “Why do you have your girlfriend’s boyfriend’s phone number?” he asked bewilderedly. “I’m just saying…it’s a little weird.”

  Rose scowled at him. “I’m only dating one person, Erik.”

  He snorted, “Rose, you’re the only person in the world who believes that.”

  “I’m a spy. I have everyone’s number,” Kara told Erik.

  Rose frowned. “So, what? You just texted him and asked him to call?”

  “Basically,” Kara said hesitantly.

  Rose’s frown deepened. “Basically?”

  Kara shrugged. “I mean, I may have also threatened to cut off a few of his limbs if he made you cry,” she added, “but I didn’t think that was relevant.”

  Rose stared blankly at her. “It’s a little relevant.”

  “He said he’d call,” Kara said easily. “That’s what you wanted, right?”

  “Yeah,” Rose said with a worried frown, “I guess.” She pulled her phone out of her pocket and headed for the door. “I’ll be out in the hallway, if you need me.” But before she left, she spun back toward them. “For the record, though, I am grieving. So, if a tear does happen to escape my eyes, it’s not because of Kallias.”

  Kara held up her hands and grinned. “I’ll try to keep that in mind.”

  Rose pointed her finger at Erik. “Don’t let her near any sharp objects.”

  “I have twenty-three weapons within reach at this moment,” Kara said.

  Rose sighed. “Just…don’t let her pull any of them out,” she told Erik.

  Erik glanced back and forth between them, his eyes widening. “How am I supposed to stop her?” he called out, as Rose left. “She’s stronger than me!”

  —

  Rose answered on the second ring, “Kallias?”

  “Hey,” he said, his low, slightly accented voice filling the line, “Rose.”

  She smiled a little at the familiarity of his voice. “Is everything okay?”

  “Yes,” Kallias told her. “Your friends are fine. Audrey’s eating everything in the house, including a very suspicious amount of pickles, and Owen’s adjusting to his new life as a vampire. Tom left him a bunch of blood bags, so he’s able to feed safely. I haven’t even had to teach him to resist blood yet. Well, maybe once.”

  Rose waited, but he didn’t elaborate. “You don’t want to tell me?”

  “He asked me not to,” Kallias said—a hint of amusement in his voice.

  “Ah,” she laughed as she realized what he meant. “He almost bit you?”

  He laughed, too. “Very much like you did to Emma on your first night.”

  “It’s very overwhelming,” Rose said defensively. “What about you?”

  He snorted, “I’m much too old to accidentally bite someone, Rose.”

  “You accidentally bit me once,” she pointed out, “and you almost bit me several other times. But I guess that was different.” Her smile faded. “But actually, that’s not what I meant. I meant: you told me about my friends, but how are you?”

  “I didn’t tell you about me because you shouldn’t care,” he said coldly.

  Rose leaned against the wall, feeling the roughness of the wood against her back. “But you know I do,” she sighed, clutching the phone. “I always will.”

  Silence stretched between them for a moment. So long, in fact, that Rose began to wonder if their call had been dropped. Then, finally, Kallias spoke, his voice low and soft, almost inaudible, “I’m sorry I didn’t call. That was…petty.”

  Rose felt a small smile tug at her lips. “You don’t have to say that,” she assured him. “I’m not going to let Kara cut any of your body parts off.”

  He laughed, but it sounded weak. “I know. But she was right. I shouldn’t do this to you. You’re dealing with enough pain already. I shouldn’t cause more.”

  The fact that he still cared enough to say that was enough to make her eyes burn with tears. “I deserve it, though. I hurt you, and I’m really, really sorry.”

  “Oh, hell, Rose,” he scoffed. “You fell in love with someone else. You didn’t intentionally hurt me. We’re immortals. It was bound to happen, eventually.”

  “That sounds like a tiny step up from the we-never-would-have-made-it-anyway speech you gave me before I left,” Rose said. “Does that mean we’re still friends?”

  “I doubt you’d let me not be friends with you,” Kallias laughed. “Look, just give me time. Once all of this is over, who knows? Maybe we’ll be friends, or maybe we’ll be lovers. But right now, we have other things to worry about.”

  “Like actually surviving,” Rose agreed. “Listen, about the pickles…”

  “She’s pregnant. I know,” he interrupted. “I’m a telepath, remember?”

  “Ah,” she said, nodding. “Audrey didn’t want me to tell you, so…”

  “So I’ll wait for her to tell me,” Kallias said, finishing her sentence. He sighed, “But Rose, she’s going to need things. Medicine, doctor visits, etcetera.”

  “I know,” Rose agreed. “Kara told Audrey that she’d send someone with vitamins and a few other things. But I don’t know what to do about doctor visits.”

  “Well, she can’t leave the house,” Kallias said, “not while the Assassins of Light are still out there. Not to mention, I think human doctors close at night.”

  Rose considered that. “Do you know of any vampire doctors?”

  “Geoff,” he said. “Geoff is a scientist, but when he was a human, they trained scientists in many fields. He’d know what to look for, at the very least.”

  She nodded. “She’ll need to see a modern, specialized doctor, eventually.”

  “But for the next few weeks, at least,” he said, “this is our best option.”

  “Okay,” Rose agreed, “but she didn’t want me to tell anyone, so just…”

  “I’ll tread the subject lightly,” he said. “Don’t worry. I can handle this.”

  “I know you can,” she said. She paused for a minute, wondering if she should say it, wondering if it would make things worse, but ultimately, she decided that the only thing she knew for sure was that the truth was best. “I miss you.”

  He was silent for a moment. “I need to call Geoff. Goodbye, Rose.”

  And then, the call ended with a harsh click that felt as sharp as a knife.

  Rose sighed and slid the phone into her pocket. She leaned her head back against the wall, waves of pain rushing over her, threatening to spill from her eyes in tears, but she refused to cry. Not again. There was so much pain inside her—from everything that had happened recently—that if she let it out, even once, she feared she’d never be able to stop. With a defeated sigh, she returned to her room.

  The warmth of the fire, crackling in the fireplace, enveloped her as soon as she stepped into the room, bathing her with comfort and relief from the cold air in the hall. She glanced around the room, its cozy, wooden furniture lit by the flickering, yellow glow of the fire. Erik was nowhere to be seen, but she found Kara lying on the bed, on top of the blankets, tossing one of her throwing knives.

  Rose watched with a mixture of fascination and anxiety. Kara lay on her back, one leather-clad leg bent, the other outstretched. Her thin, black clothing molded to her muscles—the muscles that seemed totally relaxed, despite her precarious situation. She had one arm tucked beneath her head, her blue and black hair fanned out over the pillow, as she used the other hand—just one hand—to toss the throwing knife into the air and catch it before the blade could pierce her.

  Rose cringed as the b
lade spiraled toward Kara’s face. “Where’s Erik?”

  Kara caught it with two fingers and flung it back into the air. “He went back into his room,” she said casually, even as the knife raced toward her face.

  “Oh, for goodness sakes, Kara,” Rose squeaked, clasping her hand over her chest as Kara once again caught it, just in time, “you’re making my heart race.”

  Kara tilted her head and grinned wolfishly at Rose. “Don’t I always?”

  Rose rolled her eyes. “In a sense,” she muttered grumpily as she walked toward the bed. She took the knife out of Kara’s hand and lay it on the nightstand.

  Kara watched, her piercing, blue eyes darkening, as Rose crawled onto her, straddling her hips. A slow smile spread across Kara’s face. “It’s still racing.”

  Rose smiled shyly, her cheeks reddening. “But for a better reason.”

  Kara’s smile deepened, and she lifted her hand, curling her finger back toward her, beckoning Rose closer. Rose leaned forward, her long, red hair falling around her face, as she closed the space between their lips. Their bodies melded together—softness, hardness, muscles, curves, everything—as their lips met.

  Kara’s fingers trailed over Rose’s neck and into her hair, as she tilted her face forward, deepening the kiss. Rose moaned at the softness of Kara’s touch, the warmth of her lips, the taste of her mouth, and her heart thundered louder.

  Rose pulled back, barely, just enough for her to whisper, “Thank you.”

  Kara chuckled warmly, “For what? Threatening your boyfriend?”

  “He’s not my boyfriend anymore,” Rose said, a twinge of sadness in her voice. “And I might not agree with your methods, but I’m glad you got him to call.”

  Kara tilted her head back, staring up at Rose. “Do you still love him?”

  “Yes,” Rose whispered, her brows creasing with pain. “I’m sorry.”

  Kara pressed her finger against Rose’s lips. “Don’t apologize for what you feel,” she murmured. “I know you love him. That’s why I asked him to call.”

  Rose’s brows furrowed. “It doesn’t bother you? You don’t get jealous?”

  Kara smiled and shook her head. “I’m not the jealous sort,” she told her. “I can respect what you feel for him and still appreciate what you feel for me.”