“I can't tell you what to do, but I'm not sure going back to Houston was the right move,” Crystal said at last.
“It was, but not for the reasons I thought.” Vanora took another sip of her tea, relishing the cold sugary drink. “Going back made me realize I don't belong there. It's not home anymore. I didn't see any of them, but I was completely haunted by their presence while visiting. I need to stay here in Austin and do what my mom wants me to do.”
“Which is?”
“Keep living,” Vanora answered.
After a few more cookies and another glass of tea, Vanora finally retired to the bedroom that had once been the guest room. It still didn't feel like it was hers, and most likely wouldn't since she was moving in with Rhonda soon. Yet, it was a safe haven.
After a hot shower, she changed into her pajama shorts and tank top. She ran a brush through her long hair while turning down the bed covers and setting her alarm. Vanora was about to crawl into bed when she felt a fluttery sensation in her stomach. Gripping the cross around her neck, she cautiously drew close to the nearest window and peered out.
Armando stood on the lawn, his golden eyes reflecting the outdoor lights. Hands tucked into his leather jacket, curls falling rakishly over his brow, and his lean form clad all in black, he looked every inch the vampire. To her surprise, he was not peering up at her room, but scrutinizing his surroundings. Hiding behind the curtains, Vanora watched him prowling about. Finally, Armando lifted the lid to the garbage bin and she saw a flash of a triumphant smile. The vampire jerked the black box out of the trash, studied its contents, then shredded the rose before ripping the box to tiny bits. Appearing satisfied, Armando strolled into the darkness, vanishing from sight.
Heart thudding hard within her chest, Vanora retreated from the window. What did it mean? Why had Armando destroyed the rose? He was a keeper of so many secrets and she was sick of it. The urge to run outside and confront him flared within her, but she resisted. The night she had runaway he could have told her the truth, but hadn't. It always haunted her how he had so desperately wanted her to abandon her life and leave with him. It was as if he was running from something, too. Then later, he had been insistent on her escaping Houston.
What did he know? What was he keeping from her?
Crawling into bed, Vanora curled into a tight ball, her hands clutching her mother's cross.
June 2008
The apartment was still full of boxes, but all the furniture was in place. Moving from Houston to live with Vanora was a dream come true for Rhonda. It was a relief to be out from under the paranoid and watchful eye of her mother. Her ears ringing with maternal admonishments, Rhonda had escaped the day before in a U-Haul packed with her bedroom furniture and personal possessions. The rest of the furniture in the apartment was brand new from Ikea. Even Vanora's bedroom suite was recently purchased. Vanora had deflected Rhonda’s inquires about why she didn’t just have her sister send her old bedroom furniture.
Busy slicing up a banana for fruit salad, she wondered if she’d ever be able to pry the true story about what exactly happened in October to make Vanora flee her home. She suspected it had to do with the delicious Armando. Maybe Vanora had ended up getting pregnant and had an abortion, but she very much doubted Vanora had even had sex with the dashing Spaniard.
Vanora Socoli stumbled in to the kitchen. Eyes red from exhaustion, her white-blond hair pulled into a messy ponytail, and wearing sweats and a tank top, she looked a bit scruffy. “Okay, why didn't anyone tell me how long it takes to assemble Ikea furniture?”
Rhonda hated that Vanora didn’t sound like her old self anymore. There was a slight edge to her voice and her eyes were haunted. Vanora had always kept some dark secret from her, but Rhonda had always hoped that her friend would someday confide in her. “It went badly, huh? I told you to hire someone to do it.”
Shrugging, the other woman slumped against the kitchen counter. “You were right. I was wrong.”
“I should get that in writing,” Rhonda said, winking.
“Ha. Ha.” Vanora snatched a few pieces of banana. “I'm so hungry.”
“I got stuff for sandwiches and fruit salad when I went to the store.”
“That's perfect.” Vanora ran her hands over her flushed face. “Oh, my God, I hate moving.”
“Well, at least you didn't have to drag everything you own from Houston.”
“Yeah, but assembling that furniture sucked.”
Cutting an apple in half, Rhonda eyed Vanora furtively. “I mean, you could have probably gone back to get your stuff if you wanted.”
Shaking her head vehemently, Vanora rinsed out a glass in the sink, then poured herself some water.
“Seriously, Vanora, what’s up with you? Why won’t you go back?”
“It’s a long, horrible story.”
“Are you sure you don’t want to talk about it?”
The question hung heavily in the air. In all their Skype conversations late at night, Vanora had avoided revealing the reason why she'd run away.
Vanora cocked her head to stare at Rhonda for a long moment. “You would never understand.”
“I might.”
“No, I promise you. You can't.”
“Hey, how dysfunctional could your family be compared, to let’s say, the royal family?” Rhonda loved all the scandals of the House of Windsor. She'd read a dozen books on Wallis Simpson alone.
“You know one of them was supposed to be Jack the Ripper.”
“That’s not an answer. Please, Vanora, tell me what happened.” Rhonda swept the apple wedges into the bowl with the rest of the fruit.
“Fine.” Vanora sighed. “I found out that everything that I thought was the truth was lies.”
“That’s vague.”
“But the truth.”
“So it’s about Armando?”
A look of pain flitted across Vanora's face. “He was part of it.”
“Did he hurt you?” Suddenly an unwanted pregnancy seemed like the better option. If Armando had forced himself on Vanora, Rhonda would drive to Houston, track him down, and beat him senseless with a baseball bat. Or at least hire someone to do it for her.
Pressing her lips together, Vanora concentrated on the view outside the small window over their sink. The apartment overlooked a courtyard and the setting sun cast long shadows over it. “It was a lot of things. It just all added up to a big old mind fuck.” The despair in Vanora's voice was a terrible sound. “I'm just dealing with a lot. Some of it is kind of unresolved issues. Mom and Dad dying. Roman's death. Alisha's addiction issues.”
Though Rhonda had only seen Alisha twice in the last few years, it was hard for her to wrap her mind around Alisha having a severe alcohol and drug addiction. Yet, that was the primary reason Vanora had given for her abrupt departure from Houston, which Rhonda had trouble believing. Rhonda's own mother was a functioning alcoholic, but she supposed that it would be difficult to live in that huge house with a sister that was pulling a Lindsay Lohan.
“Is she doing better? Did she go to rehab?”
“Aunt Crystal says she's doing better.”
“You're still not speaking to her.”
Vanora shook her head. “Alisha texts me every night, but I just...” She lifted one thin shoulder. “What do I say?”
“Did Alisha hurt you?” Rhonda put a hand on her hip and stared at her friend.
“Do we have to have this conversation?” Vanora fussed with her hair, averting her eyes.
“Vanora, you're so not the same girl you were. I'm seriously worried. You're in therapy, you're closed off, you're so... haunted.”
Her best friend looked up sharply at the last word. “I guess that's a good word for it. Haunted.” With a long sigh, Vanora folded her arms over her chest.
Rhonda noted that Vanora looked even tinier than before. She'd have to make sure to get Vanora to eat more and maybe work out a bit. Rhonda loved working out, especially in a gym with hot men sweating around her
.
“Mom and Dad died, then Roman died. I clung to the idea that my life was still okay. That I was safe in that big house and the love I needed was still there for me. Armando came on the scene and I just fell for him so hard. I just...” Vanora licked her lips, her lavender eyes finally looking at Rhonda. “I didn't really believe he'd like me back. And when he did...”
“Did you get knocked up?” Rhonda dared to ask.
The question brought a look of anguish to Vanora's face. “No. No. Nothing like that!”
Rhonda was a little disappointed that Vanora hadn't at least slept with Armando, but her friend did tend to be shy around men.
“So, at the Halloween party, did Alisha get completely fucked up and do something nuts?”
Rhonda thought Vanora's expression couldn't become any more tragic. She was wrong. “You could say that. Armando, too.”
“Oh! Oh!” Rhonda waved her hand. “Oh, God, don't say anything more! Shit! That fucking sucks!”
Vanora appeared confused for a second, then slowly nodded. “They both have addiction issues.”
“Which is totally why they're friends and hang out. And they got fucked up and...Shit, Vanora. That sucks. I don't blame you for being hurt.” Rhonda was at a loss as to what to say to make things better for her friend, so she just sympathetically patted her friend’s arm. Having the guy you liked fuck your sister had to be hard.
“Rhonda, I don’t want to talk about this anymore. That night is in the past and my life starts over from this point on. We have a new apartment. A new life. I'm just really tired and a little overheated. I'll be much better tomorrow. Telling you this…helped.”
“So....let's make some sandwiches and eat. How's that?” Rhonda felt bad for pushing Vanora, but was glad that maybe their little talk had been a good thing for her friend.
Vanora slightly smiled. “That sounds perfect.”
Rhonda nudged her friend with her elbow. “It'll be okay. I promise.”
“I believe you,” Vanora answered, a little spark returning to her eyes.
“This weekend, we're hitting Sixth Street and having a blast. Okay?”
“Okay.”
Rhonda collected the few items she had bought to make sandwiches and began to slap turkey slices onto wheat bread. Vanora lingered near the window, her fingers gently twirling the small half-moon earrings sparkling in her ears. Though she doubted Vanora had told her everything, Rhonda felt a little more connected to her best pal again. It had been odd being so far away from her for so many months, but now they were together again.
Soon, all the badness of the past would be behind them.
Armando wasn't very impressed with his new apartment. The ‘wood’ floors were actually laminate and the faux granite counter tops were a bit scuffed. He supposed that Vanora and her friend couldn't afford a swankier place even though he could. Yet, he had to keep close to where Vanora was located. The apartment would have to do. He'd miss the house he had rented in the neighborhood where her extended family lived in Austin.
A new desk dominated the narrow living room and his bedroom was already decorated in the shades and style he preferred. The interior designer had not been particularly inclined to work for him after finding out the location of his new place until he’d paid more than her asking price. Examining the only bathroom, he sighed at the sight of the small tub. He would miss his luxurious apartment in Houston.
The phone in his pocket vibrated and Armando swiftly answered. “Hello.” He abandoned the examination of his new abode and returned to the living room.
“Is she settled in?” Aeron's deep voice reverberated with power.
“Yes, she is. They moved in today. I'll soon send over the report the investigator filed this evening. It's scanning now.” Armando settled into the leather chair at his computer. The scanner hummed as the photos and notes slipped through the feeder and into a wire bin.
“I don't want Roman becoming suspicious, so you will need to return to Houston every few days.” Aeron said Vanora's brother's name with distaste. Why he had allowed Roman to live for so long was a mystery to Armando.
“I'm aware of that,” Armando replied, attempting not to let his annoyance seep into his tone. The scanner finished its task, and Armando quickly emailed the scanned pages.
“I am comforted by the fact that you’re near her. Only you and Lorelei are powerful enough to protect her.” There was the sound of the email notification hitting the master vampire's inbox. Aeron had resisted computers for the longest time until he realized how he could utilize them to wage his wars. “Ah, there she is. So beautiful.”
“Yes, she is.” It was difficult to see Vanora every day in the reports he received from the investigators. It was sheer torture to watch her from afar at night and witness her looking afraid or sad, and not be able to comfort her. Yet, he had no choice. His Master had been very clear that he was to watch over her. Aeron had no idea how much pain it caused Armando to watch the woman he loved carve out a life without him in it.
“A little on the thin side I've noticed.” Aeron's accent thickened.
“She's still depressed.”
A delighted chuckle rippled through the connection. “Ah, yes. Her beloved brother and sister's fall from grace.”
“It devastated her.” Armando tried not to remember the stricken expression on her face the night of the Halloween Ball, but it was difficult not to. He relived that moment whenever he slept.
“Still seeing the therapist?” Aeron scoffed. “Frauds. All of them.”
“Aeron, she's mortal. She's afraid.”
“She's more than just a mortal. You know that.”
“I know that you believe her to be the fulfillment of a prophecy that you have yet to share with me.” It irked Armando that Aeron was always vague. He called Vanora his future queen, but Mariah already sat at his side. Aeron had a quite a collection of Brides, so it was always a mystery to Armando why Vanora was more important than the others.
“Ah, the prophecy.” Aeron's laughter rumbled. “That's a secret best kept with the dead and soon to die.”
“So the Seven knew of it.”
“The Seven fought against it, but you cannot win against the fates.”
“If you kill Parthenia, we may all die. She is the last of the Seven.” Armando felt bolder separated from his Master by thousands of miles. It was foolhardy, but he was maudlin and it made him careless.
“No, we will not. The prophecy has shown me our future. I know what lies before all of us, but it's best to keep secret that which will change the world.”
Armando sighed. He should have known he wouldn't be able to pry any additional information out of Aeron.
“I'm sending someone to assist you.”
Armando closed his eyes, resigned to what he would hear next.
“Lorelei will be there in a few days. She'll watch over Vanora while you're in Houston.” Aeron's voice revealed his cruel amusement. “When I need her, you will make an excuse to Roman and his motley crew to be absent so you can watch over Vanora. Understood?”
“Why all the games, Aeron? Why not just come and get her?” Armando leaned forward, his hand pressed to his brow.
“The last of the Seven eludes me. I have a war to fight. You know that. I cannot have my future queen in danger. Parthenia doesn't even know Vanora exists. I want to keep it that way. If Parthenia knew that Vanora is the fulfillment of prophecy, she'd send her bitch Althea to kill her.”
Clenching his hand into a fist, Armando squeezed his eyes tight. “I could take Vanora somewhere safe. I could take her far away. I'd tell no one where we are.” Tremors of fear slithered through him. If Aeron suspected any duplicity, he was as good as dead.
“No, no. Vanora is safer if she appears to be a mere mortal girl living her quaint mortal life.” Aeron's voice was even, and held no hint of anger.
A bit crest-fallen, Armando sank back in his chair. “Of course. You're right.” It had been foolish to think Aeron would
allow him to simply vanish with Vanora. Of course, convincing Vanora to come with him would have been a monumental task unto itself.
“Lorelei has strict orders to behave herself. She's coming to assist you, not deter you from your duty. Understand?”
“Of course.”
“Once I kill Parthenia I'll claim my new queen and begin the purge. It shouldn't be too long now.” Aeron sounded confident. The joviality in his tone was unnerving. Aeron loved blood, war, and death. Either he'd killed recently, or was about to kill again.
“I serve you.”
“I know you do, my most favored son. I know you do.”
Aeron hung up with the abruptness Armando was used to.
Setting his cellphone on the desk, Armando pressed his fingertips to his eyes. He felt tired and weak. Adhering to Roman's Law meant he was never at his full power. It was tempting to indulge in the throats of all the young women living in the apartment complex. He resisted the impulse. Most likely it was out of self-hatred more than his devotion to Roman, but he didn't care.
Across the courtyard Vanora and her friend were settling into their new home unaware of the darkness that would one day consume them. The thought saddened Armando, yet there was nothing he could do without betraying his Master. Made by Aeron's blood, it was impossible to defy him.
The room smelled of new furniture and cardboard. Shoving a box full of clothes out of her way, Vanora climbed onto her newly assembled bed complete with new bedding. The softness beneath her thighs only made her feel sleepier, but the uneasiness she felt compelled her to stay awake just a little longer.
Pushing her damp hair over her shoulders, Vanora sat cross-legged on her bed staring at the wood box she had purchased soon after arriving in Austin. It was made out of white ash with a Celtic Cross carved into its lid. It had reminded Vanora of her mother and she'd bought it on impulse. Now, it was one of her most treasured possessions.
In Darkness We Must Abide: The Complete Second Season: Episodes 6-10 Page 3