In Darkness We Must Abide: The Complete Second Season: Episodes 6-10 (43 page)

“Shall I start disposing of your cheap toys?” Aeron asked in the calm, deep voice that irritated Greg so much.

“How fuckin’ low do you have to be to threaten defenseless women?” Greg snarled.

“Demon, we’ve played this game before. You always lose. Tell me where you sent Vanora. Once you do that, we’re done here.”

“Sent who? The name doesn’t ring a bell.” Greg snorted brimstone smoke. “Did one of your Brides run away from your big white dick?”

Aeron’s fingers visibly flexed, and Candy inhaled sharply. Tears streamed down the curve of her cheek, leaving thick and colorful tracks of mascara and eye shadow. Trails of blood tinted the collar of her costume red.

“I know Vanora came here with Armando,” the vampire said, ignoring Greg’s jabs.

Greg rolled his eyes, deciding to try a different approach other than denial. “Well, then, you also know they’re not here now, right? So why don’t you leave me and my girls alone and haul your ass out of here and take psycho Barbie with you.” The fires in his veins were beginning to eat at the restraints on his temper.

Aeron’s finely sculpted upper lip lifted in a scant snarl. It was the most anger Greg had ever seen the vampire exude, and he puffed up a little with pride. He had gotten under the vampire’s skin.

“Again, demon, where did you send Vanora? I know she came here looking for Carlotta.”

The one thing Greg had always hated about Aeron (other than he was unearthly beautiful and rather majestic, which made Greg feel like a toad) was the calm, eerie demeanor the vampire always maintained. Aeron could perform the most heinous acts without ever raising his voice or losing his temper. It was the manifestation of his arrogance. Aeron firmly believed he was above all others. Even the way he held Candy was infuriating. She was merely a weapon to be used against Greg. Aeron didn’t value Candy’s life any more than he would an ant. Greg was well aware of the fact that he was an asshole demon, but he at least gave a damn about Candy’s life. Yet he also wanted vengeance on Aeron. The vampire had cut a swath of destruction through history on his quest to ascend to godhood. That had included killing the only woman Greg had ever loved. Which was more important? Vengeance or his harem? Should he try to barter with the vampire for the lives of his women?

Greg hesitated, mulling over the question.

Aeron nonchalantly tightened his grip, twisted, and broke Candy’s neck. Candy’s body slumped to Greg’s feet.

Pointing to Britney, Aeron said, “This one I will decapitate. The one after that, I will dismember. The final one I will skin. Now, Greg, answer me. Did you send Vanora to Carlotta’s haven, and where is it?”

Staring at Candy’s delicate body, Greg knew the answer. Vengeance was more important. Though he would miss Candy, her death did not compare to the loss of his wife so long ago. The image of her broken body was forever burned in his memory. Losing her was the most agonizing experience of his very long life. Aeron could kill the harem and it wouldn’t hurt even an iota compared to what he’d experienced when he’d watched his beloved die.

“You know, I don’t recall,” Greg said with a wide grin, flashing his needle-sharp yellow teeth. Shrugging shoulders that now spouted black spikes of bone, he flexed his long hands tipped with razor talons.

“Greg, tell him!” Britney cried out. “Tell him!”

Aeron lashed out. Britney’s head struck the far wall as her body toppled over, splashing the wall in bright crimson. “Where did you send Vanora?”

Ignoring his favorite’s gruesome demise, the incubus concentrated on the vampire in front of him. “I must have amnesia. I barely remember meeting the girl. Maybe she did some voodoo magic on me. I hear she’s a witch.”

“Tear off one of their arms, Lorelei,” Aeron ordered.

“No!” Wendy screamed. “No! Don’t. I have the address! This is it!”

Greg exhaled through his jagged teeth in a sharp whistle. “Lucifer on a stick, Wendy! Really?”

“I don’t want to die!” Wendy waved the printout in front of Lorelei’s face. “Greg said this was for that albino chick and her boyfriend.”

Aeron’s purple eyes flashed red for a second, and Greg chortled. “Someone’s jealous!”

“Bring it to me,” Aeron ordered.

Lorelei shoved Wendy forward. “Obey.”

Quaking in her high heels, Wendy scampered forward, holding out the printout like a white flag.

With a hiss, Greg flung a bolt of fire at her.

In a flash, Aeron blocked the attack, taking the blast for the human woman. Greg growled with frustration, even though the black scorch mark across the back of Aeron’s white coat was rather satisfying. The vampire plucked the map from Wendy’s quivering fingers and smashed her face first into the nearest wall, crushing her skull. Studying the printout, Aeron wiped his bloody hand off on Greg’s shirt. Greg grunted with disapproval.

“So this is Carlotta’s haven,” he said.

“You didn’t have to kill her. She gave you the map.”

“She betrayed you,” Aeron answered, one white eyebrow arching.

“Yeah, but she was scared.”

In the hallway, Tanya was screaming, but the supernatural beings ignored her.

Aeron smirked. “Never tolerate betrayal, demon.”

“Is that one of Aeron’s Ten Rules to Being a Successful Dick?”

Folding up the map, Aeron appeared slightly amused. “You sent a bolt of fire at her and you get angry when I break your plaything. You amuse me.”

“I was aiming for the map, you dick.”

“Once this purge is done, I’ll come for your kind.”

“You can’t kill a demon, dumbfuck. And you did a good job killing off most of the witches and oracles in the Inquisition, so you can’t vanquish us.” Greg smirked, then lobbed a fireball at Aeron.

The vampire easily dodged it. “They’re not all dead. I kept one alive.”

“How is that mad old bitch-witch, anyway?”

“Don’t speak of Siana, or I’ll rip out your tongue.”

Greg couldn’t resist but flick the forked tip out from between his lips. “You don’t know my name, so you can’t make me go poof. You can’t vanquish me, and I can’t kill you, so we’re at a stalemate. So why don’t you and the psycho Tinkerhell get the fuck out of my club!”

Flames flashed around Greg, igniting the office chair. The flames spurted along the walls, then found the bodies of his women, settling them ablaze.

“You can’t burn me,” Aeron said, sounding bored. “You can’t kill me. No one can kill me.”

Greg spun about and sent a plume of fire at Lorelei. She screamed and darted away. Regretfully, the attack struck Tonya. With a hiss of frustration, the incubus watched the last of his harem consumed in flames, her screams ringing throughout the building. He was about to send another blast at Aeron, just to vent his anger, when the vampire struck him with such force, he was hurtled through the wall and into the men’s bathroom on the other side. Concrete dust filled the air while the flames licked around the edges of the broken wall. Framed in fire, Aeron tucked his hands into his coat pockets and glared at Greg.

“One day, demon, I’ll find out your name and have you vanquished.”

“Good luck with that, Casper,” Greg grunted, slowly crawling out of the rubble.

By the time he stood up, Aeron was gone.

*
* *

Buried in her coat and thick scarf, Vanora barely noticed the cold wind buffeting her as the small convertible zipped along the neighborhood roads. The highways were a tangle of traffic due to the burning wreckage of various accidents. Fire departments from other towns were in route to help fight the numerous fires burning all over the massive city. Smoke billowed into the air, creating a thick layer of dark muck that blocked out the stars and painted the moon a ruddy brown.

This was Aeron the White and Terrible’s brutality inflicted on the city. Fire and death were everywhere. Not only could Vanora see the flames and smoke, but she could feel the death.

Armando was silent beside her, lost in his own thoughts. The vampire she loved so much felt a million miles away, or maybe it was her. Maybe she wasn’t really seated in her dead brother’s car, rushing toward the haven of the woman who had betrayed them all. She felt split between two worlds. Something was happening to her. The process had started outside the mansion, but it was growing in intensity.

Her powers were growing.

At first, she hadn’t been aware of what was happening. The emotional turmoil of the night had her off-kilter, but gradually her attention had been drawn inward. When Armando had joined Sheila for their talk in the back room of the rental house, Vanora had finished her meal of fast food in silence. Unlike Sheila, Vanora couldn’t read Alexander very easily. Also, he’d obviously been lost in his own thoughts or trying to hear the conversation taking place at the rear of the house. It was in that silence that Vanora became aware of disintegration of the protective layers that had shielded her from the core of her powers.

In her mind, she vividly saw an image of a massive chest of obsidian wrapped in silver chains enshrouded in darkness. As she watched, the heavy locks broke open, and the chains of silver slithered over the surface and fell with a clatter. Then the black stone surface started to crack. The chunks dislodged and tumbled away to reveal a bronze box. It had a finely tooled surface depicting women holding urns and pouring the contents into a pool of water.

Vanora had blinked a few times, her sight alternating between her vision and the real world. The vision felt just as vivid and tangible as the table she was seated at and the vampire across from her. Returning her focus to the vision, she’d approached the bronze box. It was the size of a steamer trunk, and the latch was secured with a giant padlock.

“Where is the key?” Vanora asked the darkness.

Lorelei stepped out of the gloom, her smile mocking. “There is no key.”

“But there’s a lock,” Vanora answered.

“Only because you made one.” Lorelei cocked her head, her gold curls falling against her pale check. “Can’t you see that?”

“Turn away, Vanora,” Carys, her beautiful mother, whispered. “Run away.”

The shadows receded to reveal ancient columns rising high above her head. A sacred pool lay just beyond the bronze box. Carys floated in its depth, obscured by the lapping waves. Rhonda sat at the edge, her tawny curls concealing her face.

“You can’t run from this,” Rhonda interjected. “You can’t hide. This has always been your destiny. It will consume you.”

The vision had receded when Armando had returned with Sheila and Tracy, but Vanora only had to turn her gaze inward to see the box waiting for her. At first, she had been uncertain of what it represented, but when she imagined stepping closer to it, she had felt the pulsating energy within that called to her. Even now, sitting in the car with the freezing wing stinging her cheeks, the box called to her.

Vanora would do anything to be warm again. She was chilled to the bone. Breathing into the folds of her scarf, she managed to warm her lips. If only she hadn’t broken the windshield.

If she opened the box in her mind, what did that mean? Not only for her, but those around her. Did it only contain the powers she’d inherited from her mother or something more? Carys had hidden so much from her, and now Vanora was beginning to resent her mother’s deliberate attempt to conceal the truth from Vanora. Yes, Carys’s intention had been to protect her from her supposed fate, but in the end, all the things she’d hidden were that much more dangerous because Vanora didn’t know they existed.

“What did you do?” Armando suddenly said, breaking her out of her reverie.

“What?”

The vampire gestured toward the empty spot where the windshield should be, his golden gaze flicking between her and the road.

But it wasn’t empty.

A translucent shimmer of gold filled the space where the glass should be. It was then Vanora realized she was much warmer than before. The slightly wavering field of magic was keeping the heat from the vents trapped within the confines of the car.

“I’m doing that,” she said, awed by the sight but knowing it was true. She had wanted to be warmer, she had regretted knocking out the glass, and now her magic had manifested in a new way.

On the steering wheel, Armando’s hands were trembling. “Yes.”

“I am a witch,” Vanora continued, finally and fully embracing a legacy that she still didn’t understand. This was more than flashes of premonitions, visions, or even moments of telekinesis. This was a sustained magic manifested out of her desires. Somehow, it just felt more powerful.

“Yes.” Armando’s voice was flat.

Vanora reached out to press her fingertips against the golden whisper of magic. It was very warm to her touch, almost like resting her fingers on the surface of hot liquid. It didn’t vanish but flared brightly for a second before returning to a faint gleam.

If she was growing stronger, then maybe her newfound powers would help her find Alisha and fight Aeron. Aeron wanted her because he believed she was his future. The concept that she was nothing more than a piece of someone else’s destiny made her angrier than she thought possible. She hated when movies and books harped on the concept of a chosen one, yet that was in essence what she was supposed to be. It was a sour pill that she refused to swallow. Maybe she was special, but it wasn’t because she was the supposed broodmare of a future vampire race. It was because she came from a long line of witches, and it was their blood and their power in her veins.

It was her magic that had tossed Lorelei away when Roman had died. It was her power that had shattered the window. It was her power that had created the magical barrier that glimmered before her eyes. She refused to believe she was helpless in the face of the surging darkness. It was time to trust her instincts and her abilities.

“Maybe you should reconsider seeking out Carlotta,” Armando suggested.

“No. I need to know if she can tell me where Aeron is and if Alisha is still alive.” Vanora pointed to the magical window. “I think I can handle her.”

Armando’s hands flexed on the steering wheel, and he lapsed into silence again. He was clearly unhappy with her decision but supporting her.

Vanora loosened the scarf around her throat, relieved that she was finally warming up. Slouching in her seat, she wondered if she should risk returning to the temple in her mind and opening up the bronze box. If it contained all her family’s legacy, it was vitally important that she do it soon. But what would happen? The visions she’d experience on her birthdays had literally consumed her. Would that happen again?

Like fingers plucking at a violin string, a pulsating warning reverberated through her body. Frantically, she twisted about in her seat, gazing past the windows to search the surroundings. The car was traveling along a road flanked by warehouses. The shadows dwelling around the warehouse were ominous.

Death loomed nearby.

The revelation swept over her like icy water, shocking her system.

“Armando, something’s wrong.” When she directed her gaze to his face, his eyes were crimson. Just like the first time she saw him in that grocery store so long before, one word flashed through her mind.

Danger!

“Armando,” she whispered, her voice quavering.

With a furious growl, he struck the steering wheel with his hand. Frustration and anger writhed about on his handsome features. Behind his sensuous lips, his teeth were sharp.

“Talk to me, Armando.” Her voice rose in pitch.

Danger!

Every cell in her body screamed for her to flee. The warning coursed through her with painful ferocity. She had to get out of the car immediately, or she would die. There was no time to second guess herself or try to rationalize her wild thoughts away. She had to flee. Now!

Vanora reached for the door handle, but Armando lashed out and grasped her wrist.

“Let go!”

“I won’t have you throwing yourself out of a moving car!” Armando said sternly.

Vanora attempted to break free from his grip, but it was unbreakable. “Let me go! You’re scaring me!”

“You should be afraid!” Tears glimmered on his high cheekbones. The red glow of his eyes framed by his long, lush lashes made the wetness look like blood.

Raising her other hand, Vanora called on her power, and it immediately flowed into her fingertips, ready to be unleashed. “Let me go, Armando, or you’ll regret it.”

Armando swerved the car into a parking lot and slammed on the brakes. He yanked Vanora closer, his red eyes staring into hers.

“You’re hurting me.” Clenching her captured hand into a fist, she pressed the other one against his chest. The vampire was scaring the hell out of her, but she wasn’t about to surrender. If he didn’t release her, she’d unleash her magic. “Why are you doing this?”

“If you are turned, he can’t use you.” Anguish filled Armando’s voice and eyes.

“What?” Vanora gasped.

“If you are turned, he can’t use you for his plans.” Armando gripped her neck with his free hand and pulled her even closer. She struggled against him but still refrained from using her magic against him. “I have to do this! To defeat him, Vanora.”

“Let go of me!” Vanora tried to pull her wrist free, but he only tightened his grasp. “Please, Armando, let me go!”

“I’m trying to save you, don’t you see?” Armando whispered. “I need to save you from him.”

“Don’t hurt me,” Vanora pleaded. “Please, Armando.”

Armando’s upper lip curled back from his sharp teeth. “I’m trying to help you.”

“No! I don’t want to be a vampire! Please, Armando!”

Weeping, Armando kissed her lips with the passion that always left her breathless. In spite of her terror, Vanora matched his ardor, her tongue grazing over his fangs. Armando released her wrist, only to pull her firmly against him. One hand tangled in her hair while the other gripped her waist. The rasp of her heavy breathing filled the car. He was danger. He may even be death, but she loved him completely.

Armando tore his mouth from hers and buried it against her throat. The sharp tips of his teeth threatened to break her delicate skin.

“Don’t,” Vanora murmured. “If you love me, don’t do it.”

“I have to do this to save you,” Armando answered. His lips and tongue were cool against the warmth of her neck.

“I don’t want to be a vampire. I don’t want to lose everything my siblings lost. Please, don’t.” Vanora wove her fingers through his curls, holding him close. Her other hand remained against his chest, pulsing with the power of her magic. A good jolt should give her enough time to flee.

Armando kissed her throat tenderly, his teeth grazing the soft flesh. “We’ll be together, Vanora. Forever.”

Stroking his hair, Vanora closed her eyes. She loved him with all her heart but had never dared imagine having any sort of future with him. If she became a vampire, she would escape the prophecy. Aeron would not want her anymore.  She would live forever. Never die. She’d be with the man she loved.

Armando tightened his grip on her body.

She would live in darkness.

His open mouth was cold against her flesh.

She would be free of Aeron.

Vanora felt the fangs start to press into her skin.

Aeron would not want her anymore.

He would kill her!

“No!” Vanora shoved Armando back, a tiny bit of her power adding to her strength.

“You have to do this! It’s the only way!”

“No, he’ll kill both of us. I won’t mean anything to him anymore. I’ll just be another vampire to kill in his purge!”

Gripping her arms, Armando stared into her eyes. “Then we’ll be together until the end. I can’t bear the thought of him taking you as his wife. I can’t endure the thought of you giving birth to his children. A new race of vampires.”

The torment within the vampire was evident. Armando was just as scared as she was and frantic to somehow save her. She could see it in his eyes, but she was not about to give up her humanity in a futile attempt to avert an ancient prophecy. Aeron would kill her for destroying what he believed to be his destiny. She was certain of it. “Can you really kill me? Drain my blood and watch me die?”

Armando stared at her with infinite sadness, his eyes gradually dimming to gold. With a cry of despair and the shake of his head, he released her. “No. No. I can’t. I thought I could take the risk, but if you were to truly die and not come back...”