In Darkness We Must Abide: The Complete Second Season: Episodes 6-10 (18 page)

“I hate that you’re dealing with all of this. We should have taken you in after what happened to your siblings.”

“
It wouldn’t have changed anything. You’d just be the ones in danger.”

“
Rhonda was killed by a delusional man. Not a vampire,” Aunt Crystal pointed out. When Vanora didn’t answer, Crystal sighed. “Let me guess. More going on than I know.”

Vanora nodded.

“When are you leaving?”

“
Tonight.”

Exhaling slowly, Crystal set her hands on her hips. “Your uncle and I want you to come live with us until you’re feeling better.”

“I can’t.”

“
Our home is always open to you.”

“
I know. I’ll keep that in mind,” Vanora answered, despite knowing she would never return to their home to stay with them. It was too dangerous.

After another thirty minutes of going over the plans to have movers pack up Vanora’s things and put them in storage, Aunt Crystal departed. Vanora understood that her aunt and uncle were very unhappy about her decision to leave town, but she knew instinctively that it was time for her to face all her fears, the terrors of the past, and try to save her brother. She couldn’t bear to lose any more loved ones.

Exhaustion ate at her. She had barely slept the night before. Throughout the night, she had felt vulnerable to unknown and unseen forces. Several times, she had crawled out of bed to see if Armando’s car was still parked outside. She had been relieved to see it still there until nearly dawn.

The clock on her bed stand indicated that she had a little more time before sunset. Giving in to her tiredness, she sprawled onto her bed. She doubted she’d be able to catch even a little bit of sleep, but she had a long drive home ahead of her.

Sleep and darkness swallowed her the moment she closed her eyes.

The mausoleum was just as she remembered it. Dank, dreary, and imposing. A thick fog undulated around her. The moon and stars were obscured by storm clouds that flashed with lightning. Though she did not want to approach the structure, she was drawn inexorably toward it.

As Vanora neared the mausoleum, the heavy metal doors groaned open to welcome her. The gloom within the doorway was absolute. Fear seizing her, Vanora faltered in her steps. She knew she had to go down into the darkness to save those she loved, but she was so afraid.

In the thick blackness of the tomb, death waited for her.

The silky strands of her whitish hair flowed across her face, and she swept it back over one shoulder. Murmuring voices of the dead and undead swirled about on the night breeze. Some urged her to flee, others compelled her forward.

At last, she clenched her hands at her sides and hurried into the mausoleum.

Candles instantaneously sprung to life on the sconces on the walls to illuminate her way. The coffins of her ancestors gleamed in the wavering light. For a moment she feared they would yield undead corpses, but they remained still and silent.

Vanora plunged deeper and deeper into the mausoleum. The candlelight wavered against her body, but revealed little of the recessed areas. She was surrounded by shadows.

Hurrying down stone steps, she descended to a brightly illuminated area below. To her surprise, when she stepped into the light, she was in the Socoli Mansion ballroom. Before her was an empty throne.

“You’re too late,” a voice hissed.

Vanora twisted about to see an unknown vampire behind her. He snarled at her, then tore out her throat.

Awakening, Vanora’s fingers fluttered to her neck.

“Stupid dreams,” she grunted, yet she knew the dream was an omen, a warning.

Sitting up, she winced. Her head felt leaden with sleep and a headache was forming. It was difficult to see and she had to strain to make out the time on her clock.

“Shit,” she exhaled.

It was nearly three in the morning. Rolling out of bed, she found it difficult to get her bearings. The dream had consumed her so completely it had felt real. To be back in her room in the apartment in Austin was a relief, yet somehow felt wrong. Dragging her luggage out of the closet, she sluggishly prepared for her trip to Houston.

Armando’s words haunted her as she packed her bags. Though she didn’t want to admit it to herself, she knew she would never return to her small apartment in South Austin. Her time here was at an end, and all she had gained in this small city would now fade to memory.

Tucking a long strand of white-blond hair behind her ear, she glanced at her cellphone. Armando had left a number for her to call once she made her decision. Biting her full bottom lip, she tried to ignore the fluttering inside her stomach. She could still feel the touch of his hand on her cheek and the cool power of his presence. It made her feel both vulnerable and safe.

Settling onto the end of her bed, she picked up the phone and stared at her reflection in the black glass. Armando had called her beautiful. He didn’t find her ghostly white skin and hair unsightly and thought the lavender shade of her eyes was enchanting. Maybe it was the flush he had brought to her face, but for once Vanora could see her rare beauty.

Wiping a tear away, she activated the screen and quickly punched in the numbers she had memorized. The same number she had pretended to forget.

“Vanora,” Armando’s voice breathed, picking up after just the first ring.

“
You’re right. I can’t hide,” she said, her voice tremulous.

“
So you’re coming home…” Armando said. He sounded both pleased and sorrowful.

“
Yes.”

“
Then I will see you again soon.”

Her heart beat a little faster as she licked her lips. “Yes.”

“Then I am pleased,” he said, and ended the call.

Clutching the phone to her breasts, Vanora took a deep breath before slowly exhaling it. Tears glittering in her eyes, her thoughts drifted to her family and the terrible fate that had befallen them. She couldn’t risk losing them like she had lost Rhonda.

When the knock came at her door, she wasn’t surprised. She had known he would come. After a quick look through the peephole, Vanora opened the door and Armando swept inside, his long coat fluttering around him. The energy around him was prickly and dangerous.

“
We should leave now.” He slammed the door shut.

“
Good evening to you, too,” Vanora said, bothered by his manner.

Armando’s amber eyes flashed at her with annoyance. “You should have called sooner.”

“I fell asleep,” she admitted.

He stared at her for a long moment, then some of his agitation left him as his shoulders slumped. “I’m sorry for snapping at you. I know this is difficult for you.”

Vanora lifted a shoulder in a shrug.

Armando started to reach for her, then dropped his hand. She could see that he wanted to comfort her, but she was trying to project as clearly as possible that she didn’t want him to. She had to remain strong. It was time to face the past, face her fears, and face the monsters that were threatening to destroy what few precious things remained in her life.

“Vanora, you’ll need to drive alone.”

“
You’re taking your own car?”

Armando shook his head as he took a seat on the armrest of her sofa. Apprehension shadowed his features. “You’re in danger.”

Vanora crossed her arms and gave him a short nod. “I know. I dreamed it. Someone is coming to kill me, aren’t they?”

Armando lifted his eyebrows. “Yes.”

“How do you know?”

“
There was a vampire outside your uncle’s home last night. When I challenged him, he fled. He’ll try again though.”

“
That’s why your car was outside all night.”

“
Yes.”

“
Did he have something to do with Rhonda and Neil?”

“
No. No. That was…something else altogether.”

Vanora sighed. It made weird sense if vampires were coming after Roman that they might also come after his family. “What about my aunt, uncle and cousins? Are they safe?”

“They’re not a part of this if you’re not with them.” Armando’s golden eyes gazed at her evenly and she knew he wasn’t lying.

“
But I am a target even though I’m human?” Vanora tried to wrap her mind around that for a second, but then realized she knew the answer. “It’s because of what I inherited from my mother, isn’t it? It’s some sort of threat, isn’t it?”

“
That’s a possibility,” Armando conceded.

Vanora rubbed her eyes wearily. “Okay. So it’s even more important that we leave tonight. I can’t lose anyone else.”

“Vanora, I don’t want this for you. If I could do something to make this all cease, I would. I swear it.”

“
But you can’t make it stop.” The bitterness and sadness filling her words reflected the ache of her heart.

“
No, I can’t. But I can protect you.”

The sincerity in his golden gaze warmed her, but yet, again, she sensed there was much he wasn’t telling her.

“What else should I know?”

Armando rubbed his elegant hands together, averting his eyes. “Many things, but it’s important we leave now.”

Vanora hesitated, wondering if she should push him further, but decided not to when she saw the set of his jaw and the determination in his gaze. “Fine, let’s start this funeral march back to Houston.”

“
Don’t be fatalistic,” Armando snapped. “You are more powerful than you realize. You’re not defeated. You can change the tide that is coming against you and your family. That is why you’re going to Houston. To get Roman and Alisha out of that city.”

“
But who are they?” Vanora cried out, taking a step toward him. “Who are the ones coming for us?”

In a blur, Armando was across the room and picking up the luggage she had stacked by the door. “We should go.”

“We are going to talk about this,” Vanora said with annoyance. “Maybe not now, but we will.”

“
Fine. First you need to get on the road.”

“
You’re really not coming with me?” She hated how her voice slightly cracked.

Armando’s handsome face was usually impassive. “You’ll be safe. I promise.”

Staring at him, Vanora unleashed her sixth sense to touch his mind. She was stunned by the intensity of the power that swirled around him. Never had she felt such vivid, supreme energy sizzling about him.

“
You’re different,” she gulped.

“
I drank human blood. I didn’t kill, I swear. I did it so I would be strong enough to keep you safe on your journey home,” Armando confessed, his head tilted downward to avoid her searching gaze.

The tightness in her throat made it difficult to speak. Fear tangled with gratitude, making it even harder to think. The images of that fateful Halloween night filled her thoughts. Again, she found herself staring at the man she knew she was madly in love with and seeing both the gentle soul who loved her and the monster that could kill her.

At last, Armando opened the door and peered out. After a tense period of him scrutinizing the courtyard, he said, “Let’s go.”

Vanora slung her purse over one shoulder and took one last look at the home she had shared with Rhonda. Without her best friend and roommate, it felt empty and remote. Resigning herself to the battle ahead, Vanora followed Armando out into the cold.

The two vampires observed the departure of the albino girl they had been sent to kill from their perch across the street. She was alone in her little vehicle, which was a very good sign.

“What if Armando follows?” the female asked, twisting her red hair back from her face and securing it with a clasp.

“
We kill him,” the male answered. “He knows about me. Not you. I’ll follow the girl. If he pursues me, then you can attack him from behind.”

“
Why does Aeron want her? Is it because she’s albino?”

The man with the cold green eyes and dark hair drifted onto the night air. “It doesn’t matter. Tonight, she dies.”

Episode 8:

The Fallen King

Nostalgia gripped Vanora as her car wound through the neighborhood where she had spent so many happy times with Rhonda. Her best friend was gone and with her so was Vanora’s tether to the life she had created in Austin. Though her aunt and uncle had offered her a place to stay, she couldn’t risk their lives. They had the luxury of having a home, family, and love. She couldn’t bear the thought of her presence ripping that away.

The darkness that Roman had set free when he’d unchained the moldering coffin he had brought home from Romania had swept into her life with the crushing weight of a tidal wave. She was drowning and wondered if there could ever be any escape. Yet, she knew she wouldn’t stop fighting to break free.

The light pooling at the base of the street lamps illuminated the wet asphalt. The lighted path beckoned her toward the downtown area. She couldn’t leave Austin without one last sweep through its heart. Turning her car onto Congress Avenue, she drove toward the glowing visage of the Texas State Capitol building. The pink granite appeared ivory in the glow of the spotlights. The downtown skyscrapers stood like sentinels along Congress Avenue, their glittering glass facades and windows reflecting the lights of the busy city.

Tears lingered in her eyes, but Vanora refused to let them fall. She didn’t want to hold onto the sad memories, and instead tried to concentrate on the good. As Vanora circumvented the grand building and headed toward the University of Texas, she felt her chest tighten.

Soon after Rhonda had moved to Austin, the two friends had walked all around the capitol and downtown area, giggling. The two friends had hopped onto a bus, rode around the capitol complex, then disembarked on The Drag. Strolling along the line of shops and restaurants while gazing at the University of Texas bordering the other side of the street, they had made grand plans for their intertwined futures. Everything from scheduling classes on the same days to possibly moving to somewhere fabulous like New York or Paris after graduation had been discussed, dreamed about, and plotted.

Of course, real life had revealed those grandiose plans to be nothing more than daydreams. Their friendship had remained as they endured their share of ups and downs, but Vanora had cherished every second. Rhonda had been more than just her best friend. She had been the anchor to a life that wasn’t filled with vampires, death, and fear. Vanora had been able to finally live a life that was free of all the darkness that had nearly drowned her.

Or had she?

As Vanora steered her little sedan along Guadalupe, the university loomed over the strip of street that was dubbed The Drag. She shivered inwardly in spite of her determination to not let her thoughts dwell on the maudlin and horrific. The darkness caught in the swaying boughs of the trees lining the road brought to mind a spider’s web wiggling with terrified bugs caught in its fine silk.

“Okay, get your head out of morbid town,” Vanora chastised herself.

It was to be expected that she’d be unnerved by the events of the last few days, but she had to keep her head together. Yes, there were forces at work that she did not fully understand, but it wouldn’t do her a bit of good to freak out just because the shadows in the trees appeared a little
too
dark. She had to remain focused and strong. Dealing with her brother was not going to be a difficult task. Roman was very stubborn, a Socoli trait, but she was determined to wear him down. She wasn’t sure where they could go to be safe, but her dreams and Armando’s warnings had convinced her that she had to persuade her brother to flee Houston.

“Oh, Rhonda,” Vanora sighed. All their dreams born in youthful hope were shattered and strewn across the city, tangled in the fabric of her memories.

There was no solace to be found.

Guadalupe Street merged into Lamar Boulevard. It was a route she had taken with Rhonda often in the past. The city did contain fond memories, but it was difficult to unearth them beneath the thick fog of her emotions. Austin was a foreign land to her now. Its familiarity was already weighted down with the past. It wasn’t home anymore and she felt that truth keenly.

As she took a right past the Half-Priced Books where she and Rhonda had spent hours scrounging for novels, her fingers gripped the steering wheel ever tighter. The cold air and humidity formed a mist over the road and fogged up the edges of her windows. The quiet of the night enshrouded her and she flipped on the radio just to escape the silence.

When she at last nudged her car onto the on ramp that would put her on course for Houston, she released a long exhalation. It was a relief to be on the road at last, yet she feared what awaited her at the end of her journey.

As the car left the city lights in its wake, the little vehicle was swallowed into the night.

* * *

Armando was both amused and annoyed by Vanora’s little trip down memory lane as her little sedan slipped through the streets of downtown Austin. Keeping pace with the vampire tracking her was easy enough. The vampire had the presence of someone younger and not nearly as powerful as Armando. Althea’s progeny was so intent on Vanora that he didn’t appear to detect Armando’s presence.

The fact that the vampire was so young was shocking. It indicated that all of Althea’s powerful vampires must have remained behind to battle Aeron and died with her and Parthenia. Though Vanora’s stalker had the aura of a vampire over a hundred years old, he was a mere babe compared to most of the vampires created by the last of the Seven Sisters and her lover. Althea had to have been very desperate to impart her final revenge on one of the youngest of her creations.

Moving swiftly through the night, Armando was a mere shadow flickering along the ground. Infused with the blood of many mortal victims (though he had been careful not to take a life), he was at full power. At each stop light he paused in the gloom surrounding buildings or trees, cloaking himself as the assassin did the same. It was obvious Althea’s man was waiting for Vanora to leave the city limits before he attacked. The closer her little car crept to the outskirts of town, the easier it was for Armando to track him.

Since it was the middle of the night, the traffic was light and soon Vanora’s car was the lone vehicle on the long stretch of highway. As the pale illumination of the city lights against the overcast sky diminished, Armando prepared himself for the inevitable attack.

Vanora’s car was just past the small town of Manor when Armando sensed a powerful presence at his back. Hurtling himself into a tree, he hunkered among the limbs and hid himself further in the shelter of his power. Below, a shadow shifted against the inky backdrop of the night. After a slight pause, a woman with masses of red hair emerged from the murk and peered up at him.

“You can’t hide from me Armando,” she said in her Scottish brogue, smirking.

“Nelly,” Armando whispered.

Older than Armando, Althea’s favored offspring was a true threat. Armando realized now he had been lured into a trap. The male vampire must be Robert, Nelly’s companion.

With a wild grin of delight, Nelly leaped into the air and kicked the trunk of the tree in which he was perched. There was a loud crack as it splintered apart. Armando threw himself clear of the branches, landing lightly on the highway below.

“Babysitting for Aeron?” Nelly teased, standing with her feet apart.

“Still doing your dead mistresses’ dirty work?” Armando made a point of adjusting the cuffs of his leather jacket and pretending not to be threatened by her, though he continued to watch her through long his lashes.

Nelly’s green eyes flared red. “Your murdering bastard of a creator will die at my hands.”

Clasping his hands before him, Armando settled his amber gaze on her. “We both know that won’t happen.”

Taking a sharp step forward, Nelly glowered at Armando, her power beating against him like dark waves. “Then at least we’ll have the pleasure of killing his little albino whore.”

Rankling under her words, Armando’s tone was sharp and threatening. “Leave now. Abandon your assignment to kill Vanora. I’ll let you live if you go. Go find a new life with your boy toy.”

Nelly scoffed at his comment. “There is no life for us with Aeron ruling the vampires. You and I both know that. I will not yield to you or any of his other offspring.” Nelly’s nostrils flared as she spoke, her fangs visible behind her red lips. “Killing his favorite son will be just the beginning of my vengeance against Aeron.”

Drawing a silver blade from the sheath attached to his forearm and hidden in his sleeve, Armando let out a sorrowful sigh. “Sadly, you will die tonight, so your vengeance will have to be taken up by another.”

Nelly attacked immediately. Faster and stronger, she pummeled him with cruelly placed blows with her fists and heels. As was her style, Nelly was intent on breaking his body to smithereens before administering a killing strike. Nelly liked to hurt more than kill. Armando dodged the worst of her attack, lashing out at her chest and throat. His blade nicked her skin, drawing blood, but the cuts were artificial. He was miserably aware of Vanora’s car sailing deeper into the night with the other vampire close behind.

Cold fingers with the strength of steel gripped his throat and Armando barely had time to slip into a wisp of shadow before they tightened. The redhead was fast, strong, and brutal. Every bone-crushing impact of her strikes sent red lightning flashes of pain through him. He sensed Vanora disappearing deeper into the darkness. Anger filled him as he realized every second Nelly delayed him put Vanora more at risk.

A massive long-haul truck rumbled along the highway with several cars in its wake. Armando darted past them, a mere flicker of darkness, with Nelly close behind. To stay and fight may mean Vanora’s death. Instead he pursued Robert, the other vampire, and Vanora’s car. He sailed through the night, following the road. Nelly pursued, attempting to overtake him, but falling short. Armando was faster in the air. Weaving through the trees, he kept his concentration on the pulse of Vanora’s power that called out to him like a beacon in the night. Her aura still clung to his fingers where he had touched her and he hoped it would not dissipate before he found her.

Nelly crashed into him, sending them both sailing through a billboard looming over the road. Armando twisted about in the air, grappling with the other vampire. Fingers hooked like claws, she lashed out at him, attempting to wrench his heart from his chest. His silver dagger deflected her attacks, slashing deep into her hands and forearms. Her cold blood arced through the air. Though he feared using too much of his power too quickly and burning out, he knew he could not defeat Nelly if he held back. Shifting in and out of misty shadows, he spiraled around her. Reforming just long enough to bury his silver dagger into her, Armando inflicted as much damage as possible. Her long nails raked the air, attempting to catch him. Maybe it was fear, or love, or just sheer desperation, but Armando managed to evade her lethal swipes.

The last of Vanora’s presence faded from his senses just when Nelly managed a stunning blow to his lower torso. Wrenching flesh and muscle from his body, she howled with delight as his blood flowed. Her victory was short lived. Armando had sacrificed a wound in order to deliver a brutal blow. As her claws tore out his side, he punched his silver dagger through her temple and deep into her brain. Armando rode her body to the hard, cold ground below, crashing through the shrubs. Jerking the dagger free, he immediately shoved it back into her body, this time through her heart.

“You will not have her,” he growled.

Nelly stared at him in shock, bloody flecks upon her pale lips. She was already healing, so he had to act swiftly. The dagger would never cut through her neck fast enough. Instead, Armando tangled his fingers in her thick red hair, and burning through more blood power, ripped her head from her body. Tossing it away, he yanked the dagger from her dissolving body and raced after Vanora.

*
* *

The darkness of night felt absolute around Vanora’s car as she drove toward Houston in the early morning hours.  A steaming cup of coffee from an all-night gas station fogged up the windshield, and she flipped on the defroster. 

Shirley Manson sang about being only happy when it rained, her voice pouring out of the car speakers. Vanora tended to listen to Garbage when anxious. Her pale fingers tapped lightly against the steering wheel. Though exhausted, she was determined to make the nearly three-hour trek back home before she lost her nerve and fled back to Austin.

Sipping more coffee, she was glad for the sweet rush of sugar and caffeine.

The headlights caught something large fluttering over the road ahead. It was too large to be an owl. Vanora slammed the Styrofoam cup back into the cup holder and leaned against the steering wheel, scanning the gloomy, overcast sky. Again, she saw a large shape swooping low over the trees.

Braking hard, she pulled the car onto the shoulder of the road, gravel and dirt spewing into the cool night air. Her hand gripping the cross around her neck, she stared into the small area saturated by the light from the car’s headlamps.  At the very edge of the light there was something - or someone - standing in the gloom. She could barely discern the outline of the figure against the blackness of the night.

Was it Armando? Or was it HIM? The nightmare man who haunted her and was coming to destroy all she held dear.