Vampire in the Night: In Darkness We Must Abide, #1 Read online

“I don’t need them. I keep telling you that.”

  “Well, your vision test says otherwise,” Alisha said, her voice mom-firm.

  Vanora sulked for all of two seconds, then became distracted by a display of makeup. “When are you buying me makeup? I’m almost fifteen! You said I can wear makeup at fifteen!”

  “I’ll take you to Sephora or MAC. Your skin is so sensitive, I want to make sure we get you quality makeup.”

  “Can I dye my hair?” Vanora looked at Alisha hopefully.

  Alisha’s face must have registered the pang of horror she felt at the thought of changing Vanora’s snowy hair. Her sister’s smile immediately vanished. “When you’re older, if you want to try, we can see if a salon somewhere in Houston knows how to dye albino hair. It’s not easy.”

  Vanora ran a hand over her flowing, wavy hair. “It’s so boring.”

  Alisha leaned over the shopping car handle. “It’s so beautiful. You’re beautiful.” It hurt her to see the doubt in Vanora’s eyes. Though she attended a small private school with a strict no-bullying policy, Vanora still suffered stares while in public. A few people had even asked if she bleached her skin. Now that she was in the full thrall of puberty, Vanora was even more self-conscious as her slender frame gained gentle curves.

  Her attention squarely on a makeup ad, Vanora shrugged. “No one thinks I’m pretty but you and Roman.”

  “Snow Pea,” Alisha started to protest.

  “It’s okay,” Vanora answered. “Boys are dumb anyway.”

  Alisha sensed there was an untold story in her sister’s eyes, but didn’t want to push her.

  “Can I get some snacks?”

  “Sure!”

  It was Friday night, and Vanora was planning on watching the late night horror show. And for some reason, she just had to have junk food on hand when watching Dracula battle Frankenstein.

  “Get some corn chips,” Alisha said as she made sure she had the proper shampoo.

  “I hate corn chips!” Vanora responded. “But I like bean dip.”

  Wheeling the cart into another aisle full of bags of chips, they surveyed their options.

  “You used to love corn chips.”

  “I ate too many. I’m sick of them.”

  “Well, I like them.” Alisha plucked a bag off a shelf and dropped it into the grocery cart.

  “Then get red wine or you’ll be barfing all over the place.”

  “Who taught you to be so crude?”

  “Television,” Vanora responded, and dropped a bag of potato chips into the cart.

  “Figures. And I don’t barf all over the place.”

  “You spew it out?” Vanora offered.

  Alisha playfully whacked her sister’s shoulder. “So gross!”

  “Can I get cookies too?”

  “You’re going to weigh a ton!”

  “Am I fat?” Vanora’s maturing body was actually very slim. She had inherited her mother’s fine-boned, slender physique.

  “Nah. Your mouth burns off the calories,” Alisha responded with a wink.

  Vanora rolled her eyes. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. I’m the epitome of a cultured young woman.”

  “I’d believe that if you were raised by Klingons in their culture.”

  Vanora stuck out her pink tongue.

  “Yes, you can go get cookies. And be quick about it. Roman wants his things pronto.”

  Watching her little sister hurrying away, Alisha felt the strong desire to follow her. She fought against the instinct. Vanora was growing up and she had to let her have some independence. Feeling like a worried mother, Alisha swung her cart around to follow at a discreet distance.

  Grinning mischievously, Vanora skipped out of the aisle toward the area loaded with the cookies and cakes. She was in a very good mood tonight after having successfully passed her math class and winning a blue ribbon in archery. She was trying very hard to please her older siblings in hopes of them allowing her a little more freedom. Though she had cultivated a small group of good friends at school, she wasn’t able to see them as often as she liked. Both of her guardians were rather paranoid about her safety. She hoped by showing them she was responsible in her studies that they might start letting her attend more social events.

  Vanora stopped in front of the colorful display of cookies wrapped in cellophane and sighed with contentment. Something chocolate sounded good, but vanilla wafers were so delicious. She pondered her choices, chewing her full bottom lip thoughtfully.

  “Get Oreos,” Alisha ordered as she walked by the end of the aisle on her way to another area.

  Vanora picked up a package of the chocolate cookies, then snatched up the vanilla wafers as an afterthought. She swiveled about to follow her sister when her eyes settled on a tall, lean man walking toward her. He was dressed in black trousers and a dark wine-colored, long-sleeved shirt. His hair was thick and dark and he had the most amazing golden eyes. Vanora was just discovering boys, but this man was so much more attractive than the pimple-faced boys at school. He was definitely much better looking than her recent crush that had utterly spurned her. Pretending to look at a box of Mexican cookies, she spied at him through her thick white lashes. In silence, he stood beside her, studying the display, his hand thrust into his trouser pockets.

  The man wasn’t as tall as Roman, but he had broad shoulders and a slim, muscular build. Thick, finely arched brows were lowered over his striking amber eyes which were heavily fringed with dark lashes. There was a slight bump in his nose, but Vanora thought it brought character to an otherwise perfectly handsome face. Clutching the boxes of cookies against her breasts, Vanora lifted her head and tried to project a more mature aura.

  “I like cookies,” she said out loud, surprising herself and the man next to her.

  The amber eyes flicked toward her, the man’s lips turning up slightly at the edges. “I see.” He had an accent like Antonio Banderas.

  “Do you…like cookies?”

  Slightly nodding, the man looked even more amused. “Yes, I do.”

  Danger!

  Vanora jerked. Every cell of her body was screaming at her to run away.

  Danger!

  The word seemed to throb in her being, alerting her, warning her.

  “Are you okay, little girl?” the man asked, concerned.

  “Uh, my…mom...called me!”

  Flustered and spooked, Vanora rushed off in pursuit of Alisha.

  * * *

  Alisha was flipping through a fashion magazine when her sister bounded up to her. Noticing her sister’s flushed face, Alisha’s brow furrowed. “What is it? What’s wrong, Snow Pea?”

  “I’m not sure,” Vanora responded hesitantly. “Maybe I’m overreacting.”

  “Did someone bother you? Is there a pervert in here?’ Alisha asked worriedly, cursing herself for letting Vanora go off alone.

  “No, nothing like that,” Vanora said quickly. She screwed her face up, then sighed. “You know how sometimes we feel things other people don’t?”

  “Our sixth sense, yeah. What about it?”

  “Mom had it right?”

  “She had it so strong it scared people.” Alisha eyed Vanora suspiciously. “Why? What happened?”

  “I saw this guy, really good-looking, but as I was looking at him, I suddenly felt like I was in danger. Like he was my enemy or something. I got out of there really quick!”

  Alisha looked about the store, glaring at every man she saw. “Where is this guy?”

  “He’s in the cookie section.”

  Alisha pushed her cart quickly over to the aisle and peered at the people busy selecting their groceries. “Which one?”

  Vanora looked down the aisle, then shook her head. “He’s not here.”

  Alisha also felt odd, slightly troubled. Something was not right. Earlier, she had thought she was just being overly protective, but now she realized her sixth sense had been issuing a warning. “Okay, we’ve got everything. Let’s get out of here.�
�

  In the checkout line, Alisha kept studying everyone in the store, as did Vanora. They never spotted the mysterious man. As they carried their bags out to the car, they both kept very quiet. Alisha hurriedly stored the groceries away in the trunk as Vanora stood examining the darkened parking lot. A chill had settled into her bones, and Alisha knew someone was watching them. Alisha slipped behind the steering wheel while Vanora climbed into the passenger seat.

  “There is someone out there,” Vanora whispered as she locked her door.

  “I know,” Alisha responded grimly. She turned the key in the ignition and the car started.

  “Why is he watching us?”

  “Maybe it’s a pervert.” Alisha shifted into gear. “But I’m not waiting to find out. We’re out of here!”

  Alisha’s Camaro roared out of the parking lot and screeched into the evening traffic.

  * * *

  Several hours later, Vanora awoke with a start. Clutching her blanket to her throat, she sat bolt upright, her gaze sweeping over her dimly illuminated room. Shadows hid behind furniture and pooled around her bed. The moonlight glinted off the silver crosses hanging in her windows, reassuring her.

  Hesitantly, Vanora slipped off the bed, her white hair slipping from its loose braid to hang about her shoulders like a snowy mantle. She crept over to her windows and timidly peered out. The world beyond the glass panes was dark and silent. Glancing up at the moon, Vanora sighed with relief.

  Just a nightmare. Just a bad memory of that night that horrible thing crawled in my window. No one is out there.

  She began to turn away when she saw something move in the darkness. Her eyes narrowed as she studied the shadows hovering over the lawn. Was there really someone standing in the darkness, gazing up at her? Just when she was certain she could discern a definite form, someone turned a light on downstairs. The light spilling out the windows obliterated the shadows to reveal only empty air.

  Silly girl! Get over it! It was just a nightmare!

  Still a little spooked, Vanora climbed back into bed and nestled under the covers. Soon, she was blissfully asleep.

  * * *

  Perched on the window ledge, the mysterious man from the grocery store gazed through the glass at her sleeping form. He placed one hand on the window and closed his eyes. In her bed, Vanora shivered and burrowed under the covers. The vampire smiled and opened his eyes.

  Sleep, Vanora, sleep. I am here now. All is well.

  Satisfied, the vampire slipped away from the window and into the dark sky.

  19

  “Who can it be at this time of night?” Miss Robbins muttered as she stalked to the front door. “I’d be out of here if that bloody roast hadn’t burned.”

  “Just stop your complaining and get the door, woman!” Ryan shouted after her.

  “See if you get what you like tonight, old man,” she shot back.

  “Ah, woman! I should have stayed in Britain and gotten a decent lass.”

  “A decent lass wouldn’t have wanted the likes of you!”

  “Just get the bleedin’ door. I’m going to finish my game with Mr. Roman.”

  Miss Robbins opened the door and stared into deep, golden eyes. A tall man stood in the doorway, thick wavy dark brown hair swept back from a high brow. With amber eyes heavily fringed with dark lashes, his gaze was a bit startling and seductive. He was very handsome with strong long nose and finely shaped mouth. Dressed all in black, he was rather imposing.

  “Madam, I am Armando De Leon,” he said in a very cultured voice.

  “I haven’t seen the likes of you about here before,” Miss Robbins said, eying him suspiciously.

  “I’ve never been here before.” He gave her a very charming smile.

  “Then why are you here now?” Miss Robbins was feeling feisty.

  “Well, I am here to see Roman Socoli.”

  Miss Robbins’ mischievous expression faded. “He’s dead, sir. Four years now.”

  “Perhaps to the mortal world, but he isn’t truly dead, is he?” Armando responded with a knowing smile.

  Miss Robbins gaped at him, then realized that this magnificent man was not human. “It’s Dracula come to claim his own!”

  “No, I’m not Vlad Tepes. He is long dead. Murdered long ago by the Turks.” He grinned, flashing white teeth. “I am truly Armando De Leon, and I would like to speak with Roman Socoli.”

  “I have a cross!”

  “Yes, and a very nice one at that. Now, could you please call Roman?” Armando asked politely.

  “But you’re one of them!” Miss Robbins was so frazzled, she couldn’t think straight.

  “Yes, I am. Now, give him my card, dear lady, and I will wait here.” He held one out for her.

  Miss Robbins took the small, beige card tentatively and eyed it. “Well, okay, but don’t you dare take a step into this house. I know how to handle your kind.”

  “I’m sure you do,” Armando responded with a slight wink.

  Flustered, Miss Robbins rushed down the entry hall. Without knocking, she burst into Roman’s study.

  “Good God, woman! You gave me a fright!” Ryan roared.

  “Oh, piss off! There’s someone here, Mr. Roman!”

  Roman stared up at her with surprise. “What do you mean?”

  “There’s a bloke out there, really scary, kinda like Dracula, only he says Dracula is dead. His name is some kind of Spanish mumbo-jumbo, and he speaks kinda sexily.” Despite herself, she blushed. “Here’s his card. Says he wants to see you, sir!”

  “Didn’t you tell him that I am dead?” Roman questioned as he took the card, clearly puzzled.

  “That I did, sir! But he told me you weren’t in your grave! I think he’s a vampire!”

  Miss Robbins was rather satisfied when both men gawked at her in shock.

  * * *

  A vampire was at his door?

  “What?” Roman shot to his feet. He had never met another vampire other than his creator. He was both terrified and exhilarated at the thought of meeting another of his kind.

  “That’s what he said. Is it safe, sir?” Miss Robbins asked worriedly.

  “Yes, I think so, as long as I’m here.” Roman glanced at the card, his brow furrowing. “Well, I had better go see him.”

  Roman walked briskly from the study, still somewhat mystified. All these years of isolation and out of nowhere another vampire was standing on his doorstep waiting to speak with him. He certainly didn’t have any idea who this man was or how he could have known he was alive. Of course, if the man was a vampire, perhaps that could somehow explain it.

  Roman entered the foyer hesitantly, gazing at the closed door. Who would he find? What would he find? Roman laid his hand on the doorknob and took a deep breath. Alisha and Vanora peered around the corner into the hall. Sensing them, Roman swung around to face them.

  “Is it true? There’s another one out there?” Alisha asked.

  “Who told you?”

  “Miss Robbins called my room. So it’s true?”

  “What should I do?” Roman suddenly felt unsure of himself. What if he wasn’t strong enough to fight another vampire? He had killed his creator, but perhaps that was just luck.

  “Don’t let him in the house. He has to have an invitation right?”

  “Yes, I think so,” Roman said.

  “So don’t let him in until we’re sure what he wants,” Alisha suggested.

  “I’ve got my cross,” Vanora said, holding up her necklace.

  Alisha held out the hand she had hidden behind her back, revealing a stake.

  Roman slightly smirked. “Always prepared.”

  “We watched Buffy,” Vanora reminded him.

  Roman nodded, then focused on the door. Cautiously, he opened the door and was greeted with a toothy smile.

  “Roman Socoli, it is a pleasure to meet you. I am Armando De Leon.”

  Roman cleared his throat and took the long, slender hand extended to him. The man was slight
ly shorter than him and appeared to be in his early twenties. Though he was elegant and very polished, he didn’t appear to be a menace. Roman quickly shook the stranger’s hand. “How can I help you, Mr. De Leon?”

  * * *

  “That’s him!” Vanora whispered to Alisha.

  “The guy from the supermarket?” Alisha asked in surprise.

  “Yeah, I’m sure it’s him.” Vanora frowned. “What is he doing here?”

  * * *

  At that moment, Armando was saying, “Well, it is obvious that we are very much alike in certain ways, is that not so? You are supposed to be - how shall I put it - dead and buried. And I, too, am supposed to be dead and buried.”

  Roman just stared at the stranger.

  Armando chuckled lightly. “I see that you want me to do all the talking. Very well. I am a vampire, just as you are.”

  Roman lifted an eyebrow.

  “Have you come to terms with your...condition?” Armando inquired, his smile fading. “I realize that you are quite young, but I would have thought that by now-” He cut off his words, starting to look very disappointed.

  “Yes, I’ve accepted who I am,” Roman finally said, his dark eyes intense. “I just want to know what you are doing here.”

  The sparkle in Armando’s eyes returned. “I have been alone for a long time, Roman. It’s been a good while since I’ve encountered such a young specimen of my own kind.”

  “That is why you are here? To find one of your own?” Roman asked suspiciously.

  “I mean you no harm. Or your sisters. I saw them the grocery store a night ago. The blond vampire and the albino mortal. I intend to harm neither one. I am here to tell you about our world. The vampire world.”

  The words spoken by the stranger were both exciting and frightening. The thought of being part of a greater community was enthralling, but Roman didn’t like the prospect of losing control over his quaint existence. “The vampire world?”

  “Do you think that you and your sister, living in the small sanctuary you created for yourself, are the only vampires within the Houston city limits? We keep to ourselves, living within the worlds we create for ourselves. Many of us are centuries old, steeped in the old ways. But you and your sister are the youngest vampires I have encountered in a long time. I stumbled across your younger sister, Vanora, quite by accident. I realized that she was something special, and not just because she’s albino. She is gifted. Then I saw your other sister, Alisha. I knew she was one of us and very young at that.” Seeing Roman’s cold stare, Armando plunged on. “I followed her here. It wasn’t difficult to find out who lives here and to discover the history of the house. I assume someone from the mausoleum transformed you both. Are they here now?”