In Darkness We Must Abide: The Complete Third Season

by Frater, Rhiannon

  “I get it,” Vanora said rapidly, cutting him off.

  Greg grinned, flashing all his teeth.

  …I believe he will protect you…

  Vanora directed her gaze at Alexander and slightly nodded. She actually believed the demon would guard her, but it wouldn’t hurt to have some additional assurances.

  “Do it,” she said to Greg.

  Dramatically rolling his eyes, Greg stood up, placed both hands over his crotch and said, “I swear on my almighty cock that I will protect Vanora against all harm and will not do anything naughty and sexual unless she begs me, too.”

  “Gross,” Tracy muttered.

  Sheila let out a weary sigh while Alexander just looked amused.

  Angel shook his head with disgust. “Vanora, maybe you should wait.”

  “I can’t.” Vanora’s voice was firm. “I have to do this.”

  “What is this exactly?” Tracy asked, gesturing toward the do-it-yourself fire pit. “You’ve been really vague.”

  Rubbing her frozen hands together, Vanora considered whether or not she should answer. How much should she tell anyone? She’d confided a bit to Sheila earlier, but the situation was mired in ancient magic she didn’t even understand. So much had been hidden for so long. Yet, she was certain the answers were tucked within her own soul. That was something Carys probably never anticipated. The magic that had created Vanora had also imbued her with the secrets to her destiny. The temple within her mind had been waiting for her all along.

  “This is a ritual to help me understand exactly what’s happening to me and also to help me unlock my power,” Vanora finally answered.

  “Because you’re a witch?” Tracy sounded and looked skeptical.

  Drawing on the golden power that now burned steadily within her, Vanora directed it to do her bidding. The windows all slammed shut at the same time, startling the vampires. “Yes, because I’m a witch.”

  Clamping her mouth shut and taking a cautious step into the hallway, Tracy gave Vanora a curt nod.

  Angel gave Vanora a proud nod and a slight smile. “Kick ass.”

  “The sun is nearly up. We have to hide now.” Sheila didn’t move from the doorway, but her eyes were filled with warmth and love. “I hope you find the answers you need.”

  Tears rimmed her lashes, but Vanora didn’t shed them. “Thank you, Sheila.”

  …be careful…

  “I will,” Vanora answered Alexander.

  The vampire dared to approach and press a kiss to the top of her head. It was so like something Roman would do, she clung to his arm for a second, relishing the moment. Releasing her, Alexander followed the other vampires into the depths of the house. They’d sleep in a crawlspace during the hours of the day.

  Vanora’s cellphone let out a little chirp. She instantly snatched it up and peered at the message.

  Are you safe?

  Heart thudding hard in her chest, Vanora quickly answered Armando. Yes, are you?

  The ache for him was almost unbearable. The morning before she’d fallen asleep in his arms and now he wasn’t even with her.

  Yes, but he wants me to take you to him.

  Vanora shuddered, then typed, Can you resist the edict?

  “Is it Armando?” Greg asked.

  Vanora nodded, waiting anxiously for his answer.

  “Don’t tell him where we are.”

  “I won’t.”

  The message dinged into her phone. No.

  Pressing her lips together to fight back the tears threatening to spill down her cheeks, Vanora pressed the phone to her chest.

  “Hey, Snow White, it’s gonna be okay once you power up.” Greg gave her an encouraging thumb up.

  Greg’s words weren’t that much of a comfort. Armando should be at her side, not the demon. This was all because of Aeron and some ridiculous prophecy.

  I hate him.

  We’ll find a way.

  Vanora could hear the words clearly in his voice as she read them. She missed him so much.

  Yes. I love you, she wrote back.

  She was not only fighting for herself and her sister, but also for Armando. She didn’t know what sort of future they could possibly have, but she wanted him free of his slavery to Aeron.

  Love you, came the simple response that held so much meaning and power.

  The first rays of pale sunlight shimmered against the floorboards. The tall oleander bushes outside the window and fence in the backyard provided privacy from the outside world. Wiping a tear away with the back of her hand, Vanora knew Armando was asleep.

  “So what do you need from me, mega-witch?”

  Greg’s voice was not the one she yearned to hear, but she couldn’t hold that against him. He was trying to help her, though for his own selfish reasons.

  “Keep me safe from any danger that might affect me while I’m in the trance,” Vanora answered, regaining her composure. “And don’t stare.”

  She shrugged off her coat revealing her nude body. Trembling in the cold, she drew the plain white cotton sheet she had purchased earlier around her body to form a hood and cloak. It provided very little warmth, but she knew it was important to mirror as closely as possible the scene within her mind.

  “Shit, Vanora,” Greg breathed in.

  “What?” Hostility gave a sharp edge to the word.

  “Your skin…” The incubus moved closer, still crouched, and pointed to her arm.

  Vanora didn’t see the phenomena immediately, but the longer she stared the clearer it became. Beneath the surface of her skin, it looked like luminescent gold was slipping through her veins. Eyes widening, Vanora lifted her eyes to Greg’s awed face. “My magic?”

  “Oh, yeah. That’s your magic. It’s even in your hair.”

  Pulling a lock forward, Vanora saw glints of gold sifting through the white strands. “Then I’m doing this right…”

  “Yeah, definitely.” Greg retreated a few steps. Though he appeared entranced, he also looked wary. “I haven’t seen anything like this in…fuck me…a thousand years or more.”

  Taking a deep breath, Vanora picked up the bottle she had set at her side. Earlier, she had poured Dead Sea salt into the spring water inside. Giving it a few hard shakes, she watched the white sediment swirling within the liquid.

  “Okay, here I go.”

  “Good luck, kid,” Greg said, and actually sounded like he meant it.

  Pouring the water into the palm of one hand, she set the bottle aside. Careful to keep the water from spilling through her fingers, she extended her arm over the fire pit. The heat radiating from it instantly warmed her bare skin.

  Vanora closed her eyes.

  The temple rose around her. She sat at one end of the fire pit while the three women resembling Lorelei, Carys, and Rhonda stood on the other. Deep shadows filled the temple that was only illuminated by the burning coals in the pit. The bronze box now hovered above the fire pit, the golden light flickering over its surface.

  Rotating her hand, Vanora poured the salt water onto the coals. Instantly steam flared upwards, obscuring her vision. The heat of the vapor flushed her skin. The ground beneath her now felt like stone, not thin carpeting, and the air was much warmer and smelled of spicy incense. The sensation of being transported to another time and place nearly sent her into a panic, but Vanora fought the impulse to flee. She had chosen to perform the ritual. This was her taking firm hold of her destiny. That thought calmed her.

  When the haze dissipated, another woman sat on the opposite side of the pit. She was also draped in white, black hair with one white streak tumbling over one shoulder. Beneath her hood, a swatch of white cloth obscured her eyes. The three women that had taken on the guises of her mother, roommate, and enemy still stood behind the oracle, but were now embraced by the gloom. In the faded light, they no longer resembled the women who had played such important roles in Vanora’s life.

  “At last, you've embrace your fate,” the oracle said, her pink lips smiling.

/>   Episode 12

  Journey into the White

  I’m afraid of the power growing inside me.

  Not because it feels foreign or strange, but because it feels like an integral part of my essence.

  I know that sounds peculiar, but it’s true.

  It’s as if I’ve lived my entire life without any hands, then woke up one day to discover that I possess a pair. And these newfound hands mean I can now interact with my world with much greater ease. I can touch someone’s cheek, pick up a fine glass of wine, or slap an incubus.

  My newfound magic feels exactly like that.

  It’s an appendage I never knew I had, but now that I’ve discovered it I can’t imagine being without it.

  And that is exactly why it terrifies me so much.

  What else lingers within my soul that I’m not aware of?

  How will this magic change me?

  I thought I knew who I was, but what if I’m wrong?

  Can I face that truth?

  Greg shifted on his feet uncomfortably. He was afraid to move from Vanora’s side, but he had to piss like an elephant. The magic pulsating through the room wasn’t making things any easier for him. Each throb of the magic hit his bladder like a tuning fork.

  Meanwhile, Vanora was wrapped in a bubble of translucent energy that shimmered with golden light. The interior of the orb didn’t reflect the room around Vanora, but a temple Greg had once visited thousands of years before to speak to Siana the Oracle.

  “You’re not even here anymore, are you?” Greg said, frowning.

  Squatting beside the luminescent bubble, he rubbed his increasingly grizzled chin. He’d have the beginnings of a beard by night fall. The guise he wore revitalized faster than actual human skin to keep it fresh. He’d look like a mountain man by the next day if he didn’t find a razor and scissors. Of course, if he was smart, he’d bail on the city and the insanity of Aeron’s war. But he wouldn’t do the intelligent thing because the girl sitting before him with her lovely lavender eyes rolled upwards was his only real hope for vengeance.

  “Shit,” he grumbled, unable to resist the need to relieve his bladder.

  A quick dash down the hall to the bathroom was his only option. With a pensive look at the witch enshrouded in the dazzling magic that gave Greg a good dose of the willies, he backed out of the bedroom. The interior of the house was gloomy due to all the drawn shades. His demon senses discerned the vampires sleeping in their hiding place, but that was the only supernatural presence other than Vanora. Maybe it was foolhardy, but he was hoping there would be a respite until sunset even though he wasn’t ignoring the possibility of the werewolves seeking out Vanora during the daylight hours.

  “This piss is going to be epic,” he grunted while unzipping his jeans. His bladder yearned for release, the pain growing in intensity. He was almost tempted to time how long it would take to empty his bladder, but was too desperate to actually pull out his phone to track it.

  He was halfway through his business when the air around him thickened with sweet smelling smoke and the prickling sensation of magic.

  “Shit!”

  The air pulsed with the steadily building power of a spell. Cursing, Greg scrambled out of the bathroom, managing to piss all over his jeans, shoes and floor. He almost took a tumble as the pant legs twisted on his limbs, and he just barely managed to catch himself. Gripping the waistband of his jeans with one hand, he struggled through the thick miasma of magic. The smoke was heavy, like wet cotton, and it sizzled against his skin.

  “Vanora!” he shouted. “Vanora, snap out of the trance!”

  The spell exploded, knocking him back from the doorway, then the haze was sucked back into the room like waves withdrawing from a shore. Lying on the floor, Greg stared into the bedroom in shock and despair.

  “Shit, shit, shit.”

  Vanora was gone.

  * * *

  “You’re afraid,” the Oracle said.

  “Yes,” Vanora answered truthfully.

  “Good.” The Oracle smiled.

  Thick waves of shadows churned along the ceiling of the temple. Glimmers of light flashed within the darkness, reminding Vanora of a brewing summer thunderstorm. The spicy fragrance filling the smoky air made her a little lightheaded. She tugged at her clothing only to realize the fabric was now linen and matched the garment of the woman sitting across from her. The stone floor beneath her was rough and warmed by the fire.

  Lifting her eyes, Vanora regarded the bronze box hovering above the burning coals.

  “What’s in there?” Vanora dared to ask.

  “What do you think lies within?” The Oracle sat very still, her body tensed with anticipation.

  The heat from the fire pit was making Vanora’s sweat-flecked skin flush. She wiped at her upper lip while staring at the box. “My powers?”

  “You’re guessing.” The Oracle clucked her tongue.

  The three women shrouded in the gloom whispered amongst themselves. Were they disappointed? Vanora had assumed it contained her powers, but weren’t her abilities already manifesting? Looking down at her hands, she saw the luminescent glow coursing through her veins.

  “No, I have my powers already. I just didn’t...” Vanora searched for the words. “I hadn’t awakened them fully yet.”

  The Oracle tilted her head, and though her eyes were covered, Vanora sensed she was under scrutiny. “Say that once more, Vanora and believe it.”

  Vanora’s eyes flared wide as she repeated the words, fully grasping the truth of her statement. Reflecting upon her life, she could now ascertain that there had been moments where she’d used her powers. Unknowingly, yes, but she had used them. It wasn’t until she started to accept the truth of her heritage and her role in the drama unfolding around her that she’d seized the reins of her magic fully.

  “Your mother did everything she could to bind them,” the Oracle said. “But you cannot stop the power of prophecy and truth.”

  Holding her hands toward the fire pit, Vanora watched the smoke tendrils slither around her fingers, causing them to glow brighter. A rush of power flowed through her and a glowing mist erupted from her lips. The magic lashed out and wrapped around the box, encompassing it in a brilliant mist. Intuitively, Vanora inhaled, drawing the magic into her. It buzzed within her body and spirit, disembodied voices whispering too fast to fully comprehend, but somehow she discerned the truth of her revelation.

  “It’s the past,” she said in a breathy voice. “All that has come before. That’s what’s in the box!”

  “Yes!” The Oracle crooned, her hands lashing out toward the fire so the coals sparked and sputtered under the influence of her power. “Yes!”

  Close to hyperventilating, Vanora shifted her gaze to the three women observing her from the shadows. Their eyes glowed eerily with a subtle effect resembling starlight. Terror and joy surged within her as she finally recognized the trio prodding her toward a particular destiny.

  “You are the Fates.”

  “Yes!” The Oracle laughed with delight, this time flinging her hands over her head so the smoke undulated around her arms like snakes.

  The smoke thickened until Vanora had difficulty breathing and seeing. The mere thought of her discomfort instantaneously parted the haze and sent it spiraling upward in misty columns. Vision or not, the continued manifestation of her power was enthralling.

  “You’re beginning to understand, aren’t you?”

  Tummy trembling with nervousness, Vanora set her hands on her lap. The moment of revelation was upon her and she welcomed it. “Where is the wolf?” Roman had told her the wolf would tell her the truth.

  The click of claws against the stone floor pulled Vanora’s gaze to a marble statue of a woman cradling wolf cubs. She fully expected a large wolf to stride out of the shadows dwelling at the base of the pedestal, but a woman emerged instead. Fingers and toes tipped with black claws, she moved with the power of a predator. Dark hair fell to her waist to obscure her bre
asts, and thick, curly hair covered her pubic area. That she was nude somehow didn’t surprise Vanora. Clothing would appear cumbersome on this woman.

  “I am the wolf you seek,” the woman announced.

  “It all starts with you, doesn’t it?” Vanora had the urge to get up just so she could bow to the woman, but refrained from indulging in that impulse.

  “Yes.” The woman walked to the Oracle’s side. “I am Leto, the She-Wolf. I am the mother of the moon and sun.”

  Lessons from junior high popped into her mind. “Apollo and Artemis,” Vanora murmured in disbelief.

  “Those are the names they were given by mythology.”

  Vanora pressed her fingertips to her brow, overwhelmed. “The story of the Seven Sisters. Their father was winged. Was he Apollo?”

  “He had another name lost to the ages, but yes, he was my winged child.” Leto smiled approvingly, her mouth filled with sharp teeth.

  “That makes you the mother of the vampires, too.” Vanora’s heart beat faster in her chest. “And the werewolves?”

  “I am the mother of the vrikolakas, likos, mágissa, and all other creatures of power.”

  “I’m a mágissa, aren’t I?”

  “A witch. Yes.” Leto crouched, her long hair falling around her like a thick cloak. “I am the mother of all the original supernatural beings.”

  “Lilith?”

  She shrugged. “A name given to a representation of me. Mother of monsters.” Leto scoffed. “Mother of many races. Mother of the moon and sun.”

  Though the words created a fantastical reality that was counter Vanora’s belief in the world around her, she also knew Leto was not lying to her.

  “Who is the father?”

  “He was lost. Long ago. As were most of my kind. Only we four remain.” Leto glanced over her shoulder at the Fates.

  “Gods,” Vanora breathed. “You’re talking about ancient gods.”

  “A name given to us,” Leto responded with a shrug. “But one we preferred.”

  “What are you really?” Vanora fearfully stared at the woman, her fingers pressed to the Celtic cross she had brought with her into this strange temple.