In Darkness We Must Abide: The Complete Second Season: Episodes 6-10 Page 7
Shifting his cellphone to his other shoulder, Armando leaned against the window of his loft apartment as he listened to Roman discussing his plans for the evening. The lights were off, making him a mere shadow to the outside world if anyone were to look upward.
“Alisha is insisting on going to a horror movie,” Roman said, sounding bewildered by the whole prospect. “Carlotta wants to go, too. It's some ghost movie. She says it will be amusing.”
“It'll be a good distraction,” Armando answered.
“I suppose.” Roman sounded maudlin. The holiday was difficult for him as well. Though Vanora now spoke to Alisha on the phone, she had barely started to answer Roman's emails. “I just miss Vanora. I wish I could find a way to fix all that went wrong that night.”
“The past is done. You can only move forward. It's a good sign that she's at least communicating with you.”
“Does she...uh…” Roman faltered. Vanora's older brother was not pleased about his suspicion that something romantic had occurred between his best friend and youngest sister. He had never actually asked Armando in a forthright manner, but often hinted at the topic.
“No. She doesn't speak with me.”
“Have you tried recently?”
“No. I haven't.” Armando had considered approaching Vanora, but decided it was best to let her be in case any of Aeron's enemies were snooping about. There was nothing to really connect Armando to Vanora other than his friendship with her brother. A few vampires retained human family, so it wasn't that unusual. His friendship with Roman wouldn't draw attention to Vanora, but if it appeared he was guarding her, it could become dangerous.
Arguing female voices in the background brought a small smile to Armando's lips. Carlotta sounded aggravated, but Alisha wasn't giving in to her tantrum. Roman was constantly caught between his warring girlfriend and sister. It amused Armando.
“Alisha says that Vanora is still seeing that one guy. Dan? Though I'm not certain it’s serious. Which it shouldn't be. She's too young.”
“You sound like an overly protective father.”
“Well, she's the closest I'll ever come to fatherhood. And I let her down.” Roman sounded dour. He was a serious man by nature, but he had changed since the night he'd given into his bloodlust.
From his apartment, Armando watched Vanora, Rhonda, and their dates across the courtyard, laughing as they ventured out to celebrate Halloween. Vanora was dressed as the Black Cat in a slinky body suit, while Dan was dressed as Spider-Man. Rhonda was Wonder Woman and her date Superman.
“It is better for her to live as a mortal than to suffer our darkness.” It wounded Armando to know that Vanora would not be allowed to live a normal life. He spent an inordinate amount of time trying to find a way to defy his Master's edict. Being bound by the power of his Master's blood made it very difficult for him, yet he had hoped that he could at some point save her. The problem was he would have to wait for the right opportunity.
At a discreet distance, Lorelei followed Vanora and her friends. The tiny vampire slid through the darkness like a wraith. For once, an actual writing deadline had saved Armando from another night of watching Vanora enjoying herself with her boyfriend.
“You're right, of course.” Roman sighed, the voices on his end growing louder. “I better go. I hope the book is coming along well.”
“It is. I'll see you next week.” Armando ended the call.
Vanora and her friends vanished from view as they rounded a corner. It was Halloween and a Saturday night. Sixth Street would be packed with costumed revelers. Armando flirted with the idea of venturing out, but it would only be a form of self-torture. He would end up watching Vanora from afar and be scrutinized by Lorelei. He was fairly certain she was already suspicious of his feelings toward Vanora.
The little vampire glanced toward his window, flashed a wide, wicked smile, and followed Vanora around the corner.
He sighed and rubbed his eyes.
Aeron was convinced he was close to discovering Parthenia's whereabouts. Armando hoped his Master was wrong. If only Aeron wouldn’t find Parthenia for many more years. Armando would have to suffer living in the shadows of Vanora's world, but at least she would have a few more precious years of freedom.
Armando knew he’d sacrifice himself to keep Vanora safe and happy, but the chains of his Master's power were deeply imbedded in his very being. Yet, he had to hold onto the hope that there was a way to rip her away from the destiny the Fates had laid out for her.
In the loneliness of his dark existence, that hope was all he had left.
January 2010
Aeron tilted his head, listening to the sweet sound of blood flowing from the severed head into the crystal decanter. The beloved face of his vampire mother was shadowed by the darkness filling the remains of the ancient temple, but Aeron admired her beauty even in death. His fingers entangled in Parthenia’s long dark hair, he smiled up at Lorelei.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?”
All around them lay the bodies of Parthenia’s faithful children. Her lover, Althea, lay dead nearby, her body slowly decaying into mulch. They had fought bravely, but in the end, they were no match for Aeron and his army. They were doomed to fail against the ancient prophecy that foretold Aeron’s coming and their demise.
“We’re still alive,” she said, amused. “When she died, I thought maybe we’d die, too. But, no. Still here!”
“Of course.” His sensuous lips sneered.
“The rumor was we’d all die when she did.”
“A rumor started by the Seven Sisters to protect themselves.”
Aeron had hunted down the last of the original vampires just as he had her sisters. He was mildly amused to discover that the vampire who had created him had returned to Greece. All of the sisters had been far too attached to their homeland.
“What rumors will you start to dissuade a future rebellion against your sovereignty?” Lorelei asked, her fingers plucking at her bottom lip thoughtfully.
The blood of his maker filled the decanter completely, mingling with the blood of her sisters. The Seven Sisters were now gone, vanquished. Setting aside the decapitated head, Aeron carefully closed the lid, then snapped the securing latches into place. Holding it to the light of the full moon, he observed the blood swirling sluggishly within the crystal.
“I need to spread no rumors. I will destroy all who defy me. I will not let our kind spread across the world like vermin, lost in the darkness. I will purge our ranks and restore our greatness.” Standing, Aeron motioned for one of his Brides to bring the special case that would house the Blood of the Seven. “I will soon claim my legacy and start building my kingdom.”
“So now you are the eldest of us all.” Lorelei twirled her blond hair around one finger. “The king of us all.”
The dark blood of vampires stained Aeron’s white skin and flecked his pale hair. He wore it as a badge of glory, a sign of his victory over his enemies. In the darkness, the eyes of his followers glinted with red fires, awaiting his proclamation.
Out of the night came Leto, naked, beautiful, and caked in blood. Though no longer in she-wolf form, her teeth remained sharp and dangerous. Clutched in her hand was the heart of the he-wolf who had stood at Parthenia’s side in battle. Phineas had been Leto’s lover until his betrayal.
“This world has grown weak,” Leto said, her voice a growl more than human speech.
“It’s ours for the taking, Leto,” Aeron agreed.
Tearing a large chunk out of the heart, she chewed slowly, thoughtfully, her eyes burning orange. Swallowing, she extended her hand, offering the remains of the organ.
“You honor me.”
“As you honor me, Aeron.”
Taking the organ, the pale vampire lifted it to his lips and drank the last of the blood from the muscle.
Leto’s full lips split into a feral grin.
Tossing it back to her, Aeron touched the she-wolf’s cheek affectionately. “Our time has come.”
“It’s time to claim what’s rightfully mine,” he declared, his voice rumbling among the ancient pillars. “It’s time to purge the world of the weakling vampires. It’s time to claim my destiny!”
The warrior vampires cheered.
Aeron held out his arms, welcoming their adulation. Staring up at the moon that reminded him so much of his future queen, Aeron roared in triumph.
It was time to claim his legacy and Vanora.
Episode 7:
Destruction
Prologue
“The gates are open,” Armando said, worry creasing his brow. “The lack of security needs to stop.”
Vanora hugged herself as the mansion loomed ahead at the end of the long gravel drive. The sun was definitely just below the horizon, the lower part of the sky already awash in bright, beautiful colors. In just a few more minutes, the great golden orb would make its appearance. They had made it to the Socoli Mansion just in time.
“Will a gate really stop a vampire?” Vanora arched an eyebrow at Armando.
Appearing just as exhausted as she felt, Armando shook his head. “No, but it may slow down a vampire's mortal minions.”
“But not the vampire. So if a vampire wants to kill my brother, leaving a gate open isn't going to do much.”
“You sound like Roman. Fatalistic.” Armando gave her a dark look. “Is this a Socoli trait?”
“I'm not fatalistic. I'm here to save my brother. I will save my brother.” Vanora had already lost too much in her life. She couldn't take another loss. Not after what had happened with Rhonda and Dan.
Armando's only response was to continue scowling. They were both tired and cranky. Vanora just wanted to crawl into bed to sleep. She suspected Armando wanted to do the same. The impulse to reach out and stroke his dark curls assailed her, but she swiftly squashed it. She had come home for her brother, not Armando.
Vanora was relieved when the car pulled into the deep shadows dwelling before the front entrance. When the sun peaked over the horizon, it would still be hidden behind the mansion allowing Armando a little bit more time. As he killed the engine, the vampire rested his forehead against the steering wheel, his shoulders drooping with exhaustion.
“Armando, you can't go to sleep yet,” she said, shaking his arm.
“It's difficult to function once the sun cracks the horizon,” he murmured.
Despite her earlier internal admonitions, Vanora gently combed his silky hair with her fingers. “C'mon. Get out. We're here. And when you get up, you're going to tell me everything. I mean it. I want to know everything that you know.”
Catching her hand, Armando dragged it to his lips and kissed her knuckles before releasing it. “When I awaken...”
Vanora shoved open the passenger door. “Get out before you fall asleep and I have to drag you.”
Wearily, Armando slid from the car, the hinges on the door he had broken earlier protesting loudly. The vampire helped her gather her few bags from the trunk and followed her. The front door was locked, so she held out her hand for her keys. Smiling slightly, Armando handed them over.
“What?” Vanora asked as her fingers closed around the ring.
“It's just good to see you home,” Armando answered, his smile widening.
“For now.” She unlocked the door, and shoved it open.
Cold air gushed over her. The house tended to be difficult to warm during the winter months. The temperature was in the low thirties, but the house felt even more frigid.
Like a mausoleum, she thought.
Promptly, she regretted thinking such a thing.
“They're asleep,” Armando assured her as though sensing her hesitation. “Roman, Carlotta, Alisha...a few others...” The luggage hit the floor with a resounding thump as his voice trailed off.
Spinning about, Vanora saw Armando sag against the wall. Seeming disoriented, he squinted at her through his dark lashes, his long curls falling over his face. “I've missed you.” His voice was slurred, almost drunken.
“You need to sleep.” Vanora hesitated, then reached out to him. “I'll help you to a guest room.”
Armando slumped further against the wood paneling, a hand rising to press against his eyes. “I got you home...”
“You're nearly asleep on your feet.” Vanora slid her arm around his waist, and he leaned heavily against her. “This isn't good! I can't carry you.”
Fingers tracing her cheek, Armando lowered his face. “I always dream of you.”
Vanora struggled to get him to move, turning her head from him. He caught her chin and tilted it so he could see into her eyes. Instantly, she knew he wanted to kiss her, and if he did, she'd let him. His lips descended toward hers. Heart beating wildly in her chest, she waited for the touch of his mouth knowing it was the wrong, but yearning for it nonetheless.
Pausing, he stared into her face with great longing. “I can't,” he lamented.
Suddenly she was enshrouded in shadow as his body dissolved into nothing.
“Armando,” she whispered, twisting about to see the dark mist flowing upstairs, before vanishing from sight.
Worried, she raced after him, hoping he'd reach safety before falling asleep. Arriving on the second floor, she was glad to see the long hallways empty, which could only mean he had found a haven for the day. Relief filled her, before it was swept away by unease.
She was home.
After all this time, she had come back. The last two times she had been in the mansion, she had run away in terror. Now she had returned for the purpose of saving her brother, even if it meant begging him to flee their home.
Worse yet, Vanora realized that she had nowhere else to be. Her life in Austin was over. Her life in Houston was long abandoned. Nothing in her life remained but her siblings, Armando, and the darkness coming to consume them all.
January 2010
It was a cold January night when Vanora dreamed of the death of Roman.
As her mind wandered aimlessly over the day’s events (schoolwork, chatting with Rhonda, dinner with Dan), she relaxed into the nonsense world of dreams. Gradually, the images became more focused, figures taking shape out of the mist, and Vanora found herself standing alone on the marble floor of the Socoli Mansion ballroom. The room was not complete; walls fading into a star-studded night sky and chandeliers hanging from empty space.
Vanora warily started across the floor, the long skirts of her white Halloween ball gown rustling about her. For months, she had been free of any bizarre dreams or frightening visions. Her life had settled into a sense of normalcy, which she relished. She did not want to dream about that terrible Halloween night, or about the mysterious albino vampire. Clutching the skirt of her gown tightly in her hands, she attempted to will herself to awaken.
The dream remained.
And then...
Stars from the velvety sky above fell from their heights, spiraling through the darkness with glittering trails. As they struck the dance floor, the stars exploded with a brilliant light into dancers wearing gay costumes and gilded, plumed masquerade masks. Immediately, the room was overflowing with the boisterous guests, whirling about Vanora in breathtaking beauty.
“You are by far the fairest here,” a deep, lilting voice whispered in her ear.
Vanora steeled her resolve, then turned to see the albino vampire leaning over her, his amethyst eyes glittering beneath his heavy white brows. His frock coat was pure white with gold embroidery edging the sleeves and hem. The cascade of lace at his throat and cuffs was edged in gold.
“You again,” she said with distaste.
Smirking, he bowed his head, his long white ponytail falling over one broad shoulder. “I'm always here. Waiting.”
“Leave. This is my dream. My mind. You're not welcomed here.”
“You can't escape me, my little white witch,” the vampire mock
ingly responded, his knowing smile infuriating her.
Vanora reeled away. She attempted to cross the dance floor, but was deterred by the laughing dancers. The heavy velvet, silks, satins, and lace of their costumes created a formidable barrier. Frustrated, she raised her hands, pressing against the partygoers in an attempt to push them away. They resisted, closing in around her, their jovial laughter somehow mocking and cruel.
Her arm was grasped firmly, and she was sharply spun about.
The vampire loomed over her, his thumb lightly stroking her skin in such a way that made her shiver. “I told you, my darling love, we are destined to be. You cannot escape me.”
“Please let me go,” Vanora wailed, attempting to pull away.
Instead, she was drawn close to the man, her lips almost touching his as he leaned over her. The intense purple eyes seemed to penetrate her very soul. “Never. You are mine, and I am yours. We are destined.”
“I control my own destiny,” Vanora spat out.
The vampire smirked. “Do you?”
The room exploded into screams, the music stuttering to a halt.
“The king is dead!” someone shouted.
The dancers parted, revealing a throne at the far side of the ballroom. A man with dark hair was slumped upon it, a stake driven through his heart.
“Roman?” Vanora gasped.
Wrenching free of the vampire, Vanora rushed toward the fallen figure. A woman with masses of curly hair, dressed all in red, fell at the feet of the dead king.
“No! You said you wouldn’t kill him! You said he was mine!” It was the voice of Carlotta.
Breathlessly, Vanora reached the king and bent over him. Gently, she lifted his head, revealing the face of her brother. “No, Roman, no!”
“You said you wouldn't kill him!” Carlotta screamed in anguish, her fingers tugging at her hair.
“The king is dead,” the albino vampire declared. He stepped around Vanora, yanked Roman’s body off the throne, and tossed him aside. With a triumphant gleam in his eyes, he bellowed, “Long live the king!” Jauntily, he slouched onto the throne.