In Darkness We Must Abide: The Complete Second Season: Episodes 6-10 Page 4
Lifting the lid, Vanora stared at the small journal where she had started to record any dreams that appeared to have any significance. She wasn't very clever with words, so she'd given up and redirected her energies to her artistic skills. Setting the journal aside, she carefully lifted out a stack of sketches. They were on thick, homemade paper she’d bought from the same store where she had found her box. Spreading the papers out around her, she stared at the charcoal sketches, wishing she could unlock the mystery they contained.
Like Alisha, her sixth sense manifested in her artwork. It was easier to sketch her dreams than it was to write about them. One set of sketches portrayed the dream from her seventeenth birthday, while another depicted the vision on her eighteenth. Also included were sketches of Alisha, Roman, Armando, the vampire who had murdered her siblings, and the mysterious albino vampire. Notes were etched in pen along the edges and on the back.
Lifting a sketch of Armando, she lightly ran her fingers over the notations. The title of his sketch was Keeper of Secrets. She hated how tears shimmered in her eyes at the mere sight of his familiar face. Longing, snarled with fear, seeped into her soul, and she laid his sketch aside.
The albino vampire filled most of the remaining sketches. Obsessed, she had sketched him endlessly after her birthday. It was difficult to capture his beauty in strokes of charcoal. The shimmer of his white hair, the marbled look of his strong body, and the perfect lines of his face eluded her abilities. Whenever she sketched his countenance, she'd find herself hypnotized by his memory. Along the border of one, she had scrawled I am yours and you are mine over and over again. It was only when the vampire was perfectly framed with the repeating phrase that she’d snapped out of her fugue state. Frightened, she had almost ripped the sketch apart, but was stopped by the insistent feeling that it was important.
The words Armando had said on her seventeenth birthday haunted her. I am not yours, and you are not mine. Why had they twisted about in her mind in such a macabre manner when she'd seen the vampire who murdered her parents? Armando had said the words because she was human and he was a vampire. Yet a shadowy aspect of her own soul screamed that she belonged to the albino vampire and he belonged to her.
“Not in this fucking lifetime,” she muttered.
Nothing in her life made sense anymore. She felt untethered and adrift. It frustrated her to no end. For so long, her life seemed so simple. Yet, she had to admit that her future had always seemed murky and vague. Even when her brother and sister had been meticulously planning out her future, it had never felt real to her. It was almost as if she were listening to fantasy that would never come true. Even now that she was living in Austin with Rhonda and attending the University of Texas, it still didn't feel like reality.
Glancing at the pale blue gauzy curtains covering her window, she chewed on her bottom lip. She always felt watched nowadays. Even when she was alone, she felt as though the shadows themselves were scrutinizing her. Was this paranoia born of the terrible things she’d seen that Halloween night, or because of her dreams?
Shuffling the sketches around on the bed again, she tried to make sense of it all.
“The albino vampire kills Mom and Dad. Roman raises me and Alisha. Roman brings the old ones home. The vampire escapes, kills Roman, and Alisha. Roman kills the vampire and makes everything okay. Armando comes. The vampires come. I run away. Mom shows me the albino vampire and tells me he's my destiny.”
Threading her fingers through her hair, she stared at the images in dismay.
“How does this make sense?”
So many pieces of the puzzle were hidden from her. The night of her eighteenth birthday had not only further awakened the abilities she had inherited from her mother, but also something sinister embedded deep within her. It was if a coil of the darkness had unfurled within her and brought chaos to her soul.
As her frown creased the spot between her white brows, she shifted a few sketches. Beneath them, she found one she had no recollection of drawing. It was of seven naked women lying in a circle, their fingers gripping the ankle of the woman before her. A cold shiver slid down her spine. Feeling a bit faint, and deeply unsettled, she stacked the sketches and put them away. Returning the box to the new bookcase — that she had managed to put together without inflicting too many bruises and cuts on her hands and arms — she struggled to regain her composure. The desire to flee filled her, but she had nowhere to go. Who were the women? What did it mean?
Vanora crawled under the covers and tried to get comfortable on her new mattress. It felt new and foreign. Feeling homesick and scared, she longed to curl up in her old bed in Houston. If only she could talk to someone who might understand what she was experiencing.
Picking up her iPhone, she swiped the screen and accessed her contacts. If she called Armando, it would be safe. He was far away. There was no way he could hurt her. No, that was ridiculous to think. His mere voice would rake through her, destroying her resolve. As frightened of him as she was, she still yearned for him. She needed to forget the vampire. She’d been naïve to ever believe that he was anything other than a monster with a human face. Vanora clenched her teeth and deleted his entry, wiping his number from her contact list.
The hot tears that followed weren't unexpected, but they made her feel so weak. Holding the phone against her chest, she stared into the shadows pooling above her bed. There was no going back.
The phone chimed.
Lifting it, Vanora saw that her sister's nightly message had arrived. Alisha never forgot to text even though Vanora never answered.
I love you, Snow Pea. Miss you.
Vanora stared at the words until they blurred. At last, she set the phone aside, rolled over, and turned off the lamp.
Darkness filled her room.
April 2009
Vanora pushed her cart through the H-E-B. grocery store while Rhonda strolled along beside, her trying to read a tabloid article about the latest scandals in the celebrity world. Tall and athletic, with a head full of tawny curls and mischievous green cat eyes, Rhonda was forever attracting admiring glances. Dressed in yoga pants and a tank top, she exchanged flirty glances with many of the male shoppers.
Clad in black shorts, a white tank top, and flip-flops, Vanora attracted a fair amount of attention, too. It was obvious that people were fascinated by her ultra-white skin, long white-blond hair, and purple eyes. Maybe it was the laid back Austin mentality, but only one or two people had ever commented on her unique appearance since she moved to the city. One man had asked her if she was Swedish while an older man told her he had once dated an albino belly dancer and that he thought she was pretty. Vanora had found their comments amusing. After a year of living in Austin, she didn’t feel like a freak anymore. People tended to live to the beat of their own drum in the college town that doubled as the state capital.
Her roommate kept plucking grapes from the bag on top of their groceries and popping them into her mouth.
“Those are unwashed,” Vanora chided her.
“I’m building up my immune system. No pesky Bird Flu is going to get me.” It was an old argument. “Oh, this is juicy. Rumor has it that Kate Middleton broke up with Prince William. If I was her, I’d shut up and do whatever he wants. Look at William! He’s gorgeous! Even with the bald thing going on.”
“Go for it! Fly to England and throw yourself at him.”
Rhonda raised an eyebrow. “Your sarcasm has been noted, but maybe I will. Or maybe I’ll send my resume. Tall, blond and beautiful Texan girl desires to marry rich gorgeous prince. Will grovel.”
“I don’t know what’s more unbelievable. That tabloid or you.” Vanora cast an amused look at her best friend.
Rhonda plucked cake mix off a shelf. “Chocolate fudge cake sounds good for supper.”
“Is this a ploy to get me to celebrate my birthday tonight?”
“No. Chocolate is not all about you. I like chocolate. I want cake. The fact that it happens to be your birthday is mere
ly a coincidence.”
“So you want cake for dinner.”
“Yes.”
“I hate you. You eat and eat and eat and just look at you!”
“Well, I like to exercise for fun, remember?” Rhonda threw out her arms, modeling her work out clothing.
“It’s so unnatural.”
“Besides, you could use some calories. You’re built like a bird.”
Vanora did not want to get on the topic of her weight again. She’d managed to put on a few pounds, much to her doctor’s satisfaction, and hovered right at the lower weight for her build and height. “Therefore, I have to eat like a bird.”
“You’re such a slug. Shoving this cart around is probably the most exercise you’ve had all week. You should weigh about a million pounds.” Rhonda tapped the magazine. “And if you did, I’d sell you to the tabloids. You should eat all the cake. All the cake! We’d make a killing!”
Vanora tossed the magazine on top of some canned peaches stacked on a shelf. “I’m going to kill you in your sleep tonight.”
Rhonda giggled and popped a few more grapes into her mouth. “You love me.”
“As a best friend, you really suck,” Vanora kidded.
“I’m fabulous.”
Two tall football player types paused in mid-stride to give Rhonda a lingering once-over. Winking at them, Rhonda pulled the cart and Vanora onward.
“See! You suck as a bestie. You not only look great in any old grungy thing, you steal all the men before I even get a chance to even say hello,” Vanora playfully complained.
“I’m not the virgin princess who just stares at guys blankly.”
That stung a little, but Vanora let it slide. She’d never told Rhonda about having sex with Armando, and hadn’t dated seriously since her arrival in Austin. “I’m not trying to compete for most men bagged in a single year award.”
Rhonda slung her arm around Vanora’s shoulders. “At least I’m having fun.”
“Uh huh,” Vanora studied her grocery list. “Now what did we come for? Grapes, which you’ve nearly finished, apples, bananas, whole grain bread, chicken, brown rice, and what else?”
“Skim milk to go with my chocolate fudge cake-that’s-not-your-birthday-cake.”
“Remind me why I like you?”
“I’m irresistible,” Rhonda declared.
“Okay, milk.” Vanora reached the end of her list. It was written on the back of the envelope her sister had sent a birthday card in.
“What about birthday party stuff?”
Vanora winced. “No birthday stuff.”
“Not even little hats? Or fancy plates? To go with your non-birthday cake?” Rhonda gave Vanora her most adorable smile, fluttering her eyelashes.
“No. No. No. No birthday stuff.” Vanora glowered.
“Fine! Well, at least let’s go spend that check your sister sent at the San Marcos outlets this weekend.”
“That sounds fine, since it’s not my actual birthday. I swear, my birthdays are cursed.” Vanora didn’t even want to think about celebrating her birthday. She didn’t care if she was turning nineteen. “We’ll shop until we drop and send my sister pictures of what we buy. She’ll be thrilled.”
Rhonda plucked a few more grapes from the open bag and popped one in her mouth. “How’s your sister anyway?”
Vanora found it difficult to speak about her sibling. It had taken nearly a year for her to finally answer Alisha’s emails and text messages. She had yet to respond to Roman. It was harder to forgive him for some reason. Maybe because she’d thought he was so much stronger than Alisha. “You’re stealing those grapes, you know.”
Rhonda shrugged her shoulders and ate another one. “Answer my question.”
“She’s fine. She wants me to go up and visit her.”
“So why don’t you go? She’s clean now, right? Rehab worked?”
The official story that Uncle Nicolau had concocted about Vanora’s abrupt departure from Houston was that Alisha had a severe addiction problem and after a very bad episode, had gone into rehab and sent Vanora to live with her extended family. The same excuse was used for Alisha canceling all her art exhibits, deleting her website, and basically vanishing from the art world.
“It’s just hard getting over what happened.”
“Yeah, that totally sucked about Armando and her falling off the wagon that night.”
“You could say that.” Memories of the vampires feasting flashed through her mind. She drew in a trembling breath. “I don’t know if I can deal with it yet.”
“We all have our deep dark issues.”
“Not as deep or as dark as mine.”
“It’s that house you lived in. So creepy. I’m so glad you’re away from it. If you visit your sister, you should totally stay at a hotel and avoid the whole Dracula vibe.”
Selecting a lower sugar apple juice from a shelf, Vanora hoped Rhonda would drop the subject soon. In the last month or so, she had considered visiting her siblings, but was too afraid to even try to put plans into motion after what had happened the year before.
“Hey, there’s Dan! Don’t act like a freak.”
Vanora’s face brightened, her glum mood falling away almost instantly.
Dan O’Brien lived in their apartment complex. Tall, athletic, and very handsome with blond hair and vivid blue eyes, Vanora had been intimidated at first when he’d started talking to her at their apartment mail center. Vanora was immensely shy around men, but Dan’s charming sense of humor and sincere interest in her had eroded her nervousness. They chatted whenever they spotted each other around the complex. Vanora thought he was actually quite sweet. Rhonda was convinced Dan was interested in Vanora. Nervous at the prospect, Vanora had to admit to herself that she’d waited long enough to heal from the heartbreak she had suffered. It was time to move on.
“Let’s go say hello,” Rhonda said, claiming the cart and pushing it toward him.
“You’re so subtle.”
“I’m trying to get you laid.”
Dan grinned when he spotted the roommates. He was holding a can of ravioli in one hand and Gatorade in the other. “Hey, it’s my favorite neighbor and her roomie! Shopping day, huh?”
“We do have to eat apparently. It’s a thing.” Vanora gave him a shy smile, but tried not to look as nervous as she felt.
“Yeah. I have that too. It’s some weird biological thing.” Dan peered into their basket. “Though, I have to say you’re eating much better than I do.”
“Rhonda’s trying to get me healthy.”
“It’s not easy,” Rhonda sniffed.
“Well, you look good to me,” Dan said, winking.
Rhonda not so discreetly nudged Vanora with her arm. “Told you.”
Vanora felt the warmth of her blush creeping onto her cheeks. “Well, you’re not so bad yourself.”
“I can clean up okay. Much better than this, I promise. It seems like we always run into each other after I’ve gotten out of the gym.”
Admiring his muscles and toned abs, Vanora wasn’t about to complain. “Well, I’m sure you do. Clean up. Nicely.”
Rhonda gave her a shove forward. “But he eats like crap. He should eat some good food, right?”
Vanora gave Rhonda the look of death.
“That was subtle,” Dan observed.
“She’s horrible. I should’ve warned you.” Vanora swept her white-blond hair from her face, grimacing.
“Okay, since she put you in an awkward position, why don’t I take your place? I’ll ask you out, therefore, putting me in the position of possible rejection.”
Vanora licked her lips, anxiety gripping her, but ignoring it. “Okay. Go for it.”
“Vanora, why don’t we get together on Saturday, go to dinner, and maybe go out for a few drinks afterward?”
“Well, I’m not sure,” Vanora started, suddenly panicking at the thought of being on an actual date.
“This is not going to go well,” Dan said, wincing.
Dan looked at Vanora, waiting for her to agree. “Yeah?”
She nodded. “Yeah. Let’s do it. The date... thing.”
Dan grinned, flashing all his white teeth. “Great! Okay, then it’s a date. I’ll drop by your apartment at seven on Saturday.”
Blushing even more, Vanora said, “That sounds good.”
“I’m looking forward to it.” Dan gave her arm a light squeeze, then strolled off.
Vanora watched him depart feeling giddy. “He’s so pretty.” Dan reminded her of sunshine: warm, bright, and beautiful.
“I’ll be surprised if you ever even hold hands with the poor guy!”
“I’m just being cautious,” Vanora pouted.
“I’ve told you before and I’m telling you again: you’re afraid of intimacy.”
“I’ve agreed with you before and I’m agreeing with you again. I am afraid of getting involved with the wrong man. People are not always as they seem.” Vanora winced slightly, her thoughts shifting to Armando. Would he ever stop haunting her?
“Well, Dan is one of the good guys, I don’t think you have to worry about him. I have a feeling that what you see is what you get. A good ol’ American country boy who looks damn good in shorts.”
Vanora grinned. “He does, doesn’t he?”
“Oh, yeah! I had my eye on him until he showed interest in you. But it’s all good. I’ll find tall, dark, and menacing.”
Vanora shuddered, immediately thinking Armando.
“I like my men a little more mysterious and with an edge.”
For an instant the past seemed too near and threatening. After all, it was in a supermarket that she had first spotted Armando and felt the warning of danger.
“Hey, what’s with you? You’re shaking,” Rhonda said with concern, her voice breaking through Vanora’s dark thoughts.
“I’m okay. I just felt a chill.”
“Is this that freaky sixth sense shit?”
“My stomach feels upset.” It wasn’t a lie. Her stomach was fluttering with anxiety.