In Darkness We Must Abide: The Complete Second Season: Episodes 6-10

by Rhiannon Frater

  “Yes, of course!” Roman said on the other end. The sounds of the phone being handed off followed, then, “Vanora?”

  “Roman, hi!” She forced a smile onto her face, her fingers nervously tugging the hairpins out of her hair. The white-blond strands unfurled to rest in curls against her shoulders.

  “Vanora, it’s so good to hear your voice.” A door slammed shut and the noise diminished significantly. “How are you?”

  “I’m good. I’m doing very well in school. I’m seeing someone. It’s going...”

  She faltered.

  How was it going? How could so much have changed in one night? It wasn’t just Armando making an appearance, but the revelation of Dan’s many misconceptions about her. Now she realized how he’d interpreted her reticence to share parts of her life with him as her being a sweet, shy little virgin. That thought did not sit well with her at all.

  “Things are going well here, too,” Roman said, obviously thrilled to hear her voice. “Very well. Alisha has told you about me and Carlotta?”

  “Yes, that you’re together. Are you happy?” Vanora slapped her hand against her forehead, pissed that she was stuck with small talk.

  “Very much so. She makes life very interesting.” Her brother sounded smitten and it made her heart hurt for him. “I am happy to hear your voice. I miss you.”

  “I miss you, Roman.”

  “Are you coming home soon? To visit?” Her brother’s voice was full of hope.

  “I’m swamped right now with school. It’s a busy time.” Returning to her bed, she sat on the edge.

  “Maybe Easter?”

  The prophetic nightmare tormented her, flashing through her mind, reminding her of its terrible omen. “Roman, I’m calling because I had a dream.”

  Her older brother fell silent for a long beat, then finally said, “I see.”

  Fighting with all her strength not to cry, she continued, “I dreamed you died.”

  “Well, I did die, but I’m still here.” There was a hint of irritation in his voice. It was probably the result of all the arguments he was having with Alisha about her paintings.

  “Could you be careful? Around new vampires? For me?” It was all she could think to say.

  The warmth returned to his voice. “Of course. Anything for you. You will consider visiting?”

  Again, she flashed upon Roman lying dead in her arms as Carlotta sobbed at their side. A huge lump had formed in her throat, making it hard to speak.

  “Vanora?”

  “Yes. I will.”

  “I love you.”

  “I love you, Roman.”

  “I have to go now. Carlotta wants me to meet someone. Please call me again, okay?”

  Pressing the phone hard against her ear, Vanora listened to the sounds of her old home in Houston. “I will.” Closing the call, she set the phone on her bed stand.

  Vanora covered her face with her hands and wept.

  *

  When the dream came, it was filled with light.

  Beautiful, dazzling daylight streamed through stained glass windows into the sanctuary of a large cathedral. Dressed in her opulent Halloween gown, Vanora stood at Dan’s side. His boyish good looks perfectly complimented the princely outfit he was wearing. An archbishop stood before her, droning on in a monotone voice, but she couldn’t understand what he was saying. Gradually, she realized it was a wedding ceremony.

  “We’re getting married?” she whispered to Dan in confusion.

  “Yeah, but are you sure you should be wearing white?” The flesh between Dan’s brows puckered slightly as the corner of his lips turned downward.

  “It’s not important,” Vanora snapped.

  “Actually, it really is. I’d like for you to be pure,” Dan continued, his scowl deepening. It was then that she noticed a coffin beyond the archbishop covered in a heavy arrangement of white flowers.

  “No,” she breathed.

  Scooting around the archbishop, Vanora approached the coffin. Her heart seizing within her, she reached out to touch the glossy black casket. “Roman?”

  “Not Roman,” Rhonda said stepping beside her. “He’s not in there. It’s not for him.”

  “Then I can save him?” Vanora asked hopefully.

  “I don’t know. Maybe you should pray. You’re a nun after all.”

  Vanora started as she realized she was clothed in a nun’s habit. The fabric was stiff and hot. “But I’m not.”

  “Of course you are!” Rhonda stared at the coffin, her fingers fretfully twisting a lock of her tawny hair. Her hair was drawn into a bun on top of her head, crazy curly tendrils falling around her freckled brow. “I’m afraid of the dark, Vanora. I don’t want to be in the dark.”

  “Rhonda, it’s okay. The darkness is not after you.”

  “Isn’t it?”

  Rhonda cast a wary look over her shoulder, gasped, then fled down the aisle of the cathedral. A wave of gloom washed over the sanctuary, abolishing the sunlight and consuming the fleeing woman.

  “Rhonda!”

  The muttering of the archbishop continued. Dan still stood at the altar, smiling blissfully. Beside him was a white wedding gown and veil, yet there was no one tucked inside it. Where the face and hands of the bride should have been was only emptiness, yet Dan looked pleased.

  A flicker of a shadow caught her eye just before it disappeared down a long narrow, arched hallway.

  “Armando?”

  Vanora pursued the figure, abandoning the flower-laden coffin. As the fleeing person was caught in the radiance of the candles tucked into the wall sconces lining the hall, Vanora saw it was a young girl, perhaps fourteen or fifteen years old, dressed in a white lace dress. Her blond hair was a halo of curls, yet when the girl looked back at Vanora, her eyes were utter blackness.

  Gasping, Vanora shrank back from the girl.

  “She’s Death,” a familiar voice whispered.

  Icy cold hands, roughened by battle, slid over her arms, drawing Vanora against the tall, muscular form of the albino vampire. Leaning over her shoulder, he smiled slightly. “Isn’t she beautiful? To die at her small hand is an honor.”

  The teenager smirked, then vanished down another long corridor, this one dank, cold, and devoid of light. It reminded Vanora of a tomb.

  “My beautiful Vanora, I am coming for you, you know.” The vampire stepped around her to take her hands and kiss them.

  Again, her outfit had transformed. This time she stood in a midnight blue evening gown with flouncy cuffs and a full skirt. Something heavy weighed down on her head and her fingertips touched a heavy tiara set on her hair.

  The vampire was dressed in white leather trousers, his white hair brushing over his bare shoulders. He was so tall she had to crane her head to gaze up into eyes that matched her own. Tenderly, he drew her against his body, cupping her head against his silent chest. Vanora melded against him, enraptured once again by the feelings he elicited within her. His embrace filled her with peace. In his arms, she was truly home.

  “No, Vanora, this is all wrong. You don’t belong to him,” her mother’s voice whispered urgently out of the darkness. “Fight back!”

  “Mom?”

  In the candlelight, she briefly caught sight of Carys. The fear and pain in her mother’s gaze broke through her rapture and Vanora was once more afraid.

  “You want to kill me,” Vanora uttered.

  The deep vibrating laugh of the vampire was surprisingly light with amusement. “Never, Vanora. I am not your death. He is.” The albino vampire swept his hand toward a dark form standing at the end of the hallway. The albino vampire dissolved into the shadows.

  “Armando?”

  Frightened, Vanora fled down the hallway toward the familiar figure, but he stepped out of the candlelight into the room beyond an arched doorway. Recklessly, Vanora plunged into the room.

  Moonlight spilled through tall, narrow windows, illuminating the tiled floor in rectangular pools of light. With a start, she rea
lized she was naked, clothed only in her long white-blond hair. Relief flooded her. She was free of the costumes others had placed upon her at last.

  The room was filled with darkness, yet she was not afraid. Drawing near to the windows, she saw a black ocean swelling against a rocky beach far below and the lights of a coastal city encircling the bay twinkling on the waves.

  The scene was serene and beautiful. It comforted her aching heart. The soft dark clouds partially obscured the face of the glowing moon ruling the starry night.

  “It’s not as beautiful as you,” Armando’s voice whispered.

  “You’re here,” she said, relief filling her.

  “I’ve been waiting.”

  In her dream, she didn’t push him away when his arms encircled her waist from behind. It was a dream after all. If she couldn’t feel his touch in the real world, then she would welcome it while she slept.

  A soft sigh escaped her as she sank back against his naked chest and his cool lips gently kissed her temple. The softness of his dark hair tickled her skin when he slid his mouth along the side of her face, pressing the softest kisses to her skin. This is what she missed most of all. His tenderness. The one night they had shared he had been passionate, but so gentle.

  In the dream their lips met in a soft kiss as his strong, elegant hands slid down her body. The teasing touch of his fingers cupping her breast drew a whimper from her lips, but she didn’t pull away.

  “Do you want me?” his voice purred against her mouth.

  “Yes,” she answered truthfully, then gasped when his other hand settled between the soft flesh between her thighs.

  Again he kissed her, his tongue swirling around hers, his teeth sharp against her lips. His fingertips sought and found the tiny bud that would make her whimper.

  “Do you want me?” he asked again. His amber eyes glowed in the darkness.

  “Always,” she said.

  Then Armando’s beautiful golden eyes transformed to red, the points of his fangs slipping below the curve of his upper lip. Sliding her fingers in his hair, she pulled his face to her throat. His bite was quick, hard, and deep. Blood ran down her body in long red trails, hot with life. Yet she didn’t care.

  “I told you,” the albino vampires voice said, anger filling it. “He is your death.”

  The darkness rushed in to devour her, but she knew she was lost. Death was coming, but all she wanted to feel was the pleasure of Armando’s bite and his hands caressing her skin.

  Vanora woke with a start, her heart thudding. The room was filled with morning light and Rhonda stood over her holding out her own cell phone.

  “You didn’t plug in your phone. It’s dead. So Dan called mine. Hurry it up. I’m running late,” her roommate said. Rhonda darted back out of the room, obviously scrambling to get ready for work.

  Trembling, Vanora sat and cupped the phone against her ear. She was relieved to see she was still fully dressed in the outfit she had worn the night before. The black tights she wore were twisted uncomfortably around her thighs.

  “Dan? Hi,” she said into the phone, trying to untangle her legs from the skirt of her dress.

  “Hey, Vanora, I’m so sorry about last night. I think I may have had a bit too much wine. I, uh, don’t remember much after we met that guy...uh...the friend of your family. I really want to apologize for that.”

  Vanora had a sneaking suspicion that Dan was calling to see if Armando was with her, but she tried not to sound agitated. “It’s okay. I was very tired. I even fell asleep almost as soon as I got home.”

  “Oh, yeah?”

  The relief in his voice made Vanora incredibly angry all at once. Why should she have to defend herself? It hurt her to realize that Dan actually didn’t trust her. “Though Armando and I chatted for a bit after you left.”

  “Well, that’s good. Since he’s an old friend and all.” It was hard to tell if she was being paranoid and reading irritation into his tone, or not. “Hey, I gotta get to class, but why don’t I call you later tonight? Maybe we can make some plans, okay?”

  “Sure. That’s fine.” Maybe the dream was making her testy. Dan didn’t sound agitated, but just kind of tired.

  “Unless you want to do lunch?”

  “I have a lot of studying I need to do, and I have to finish a paper,” Vanora answered, the need to fight leaving her. Maybe it was the dream and Armando’s infuriating behavior that had her so on edge.

  “Okay, then I’ll call you tonight and check up on you. How’s that?”

  “Perfect.” Vanora caught sight of Rhonda peeking into the room and waved her back in. “I better go since I’m on Rhonda’s phone.”

  “Remember to plug yours in!”

  How could Dave’s voice perfectly project his big grin?

  “I will. Bye!” Vanora hung up just as Dave said his farewell. Tossing the phone to Rhonda, she sighed.

  “Okay, I so totally want to know what your dream was about,” Rhonda said, snatching the phone out of the air.

  “I don’t remember it,” Vanora lied.

  “Yeah, right.” Rhonda rolled her eyes. “I take it that you weren’t dreaming about Dave.”

  “Shut up.”

  “Armando strikes again! God, maybe you should just forgive him and fuck him. Get it out of your system.” Rhonda shoved her phone into her purse and ran her hand over her bun.

  Vanora folded her arms across her breasts, and her glare was her only answer.

  “Oh, that’s right. You’re a nun. I keep forgetting!” Shaking her head, her roommate headed out of the room.

  Ignoring the chill that rushed through her, Vanora shouted, “I’m not a nun!”

  “Yes you are! See you tonight!”

  The front door banged shut and locked.

  With a frown on her face, Vanora rolled over and plugged in her cellphone. She didn’t bother to turn it on just yet. First, she needed a hot shower, breakfast, and some distance from her nightmares before she dealt with the world. Though she wanted to dismiss the dream as a product of her anxious mind, she couldn’t. It felt like a harbinger of things to come. But what did it all mean?

  Restless, Vanora grabbed a pair of black leggings, an over-sized sweater decorated with skulls from Betsey Johnson, panties and a camisole from her dresser, and walked into the bathroom. Her makeup was even more smeared and terrible looking now that she’d slept in it.

  A hot shower, lots of soap, and shampoo got rid of the remains of her cosmetics and hairdo from the night before. After she was dressed, she again studied her face in the mirror. Her pallor, lavender eyes and white lashes gave her a ghostly appearance. It suited her mood.

  After drying her hair and pulling on thick socks, she climbed back onto her bed with her sketching tools. Though a stack of books and her laptop called to her from the corner of her room, she didn’t feel like jumping into studying or writing her paper just yet. Instead, she wanted to sketch the images from the dream. The fact that she could remember so many details was a good indicator that it was significant.

  Soon she was consumed in capturing what felt like the most pertinent details in her artwork. Some of the charcoal etchings were less detailed, such as the one with Dan and the empty wedding gown, while others were much more intricate. The young girl she’d seen consumed a lot of her energy. By the time she was done, the girl was rendered so perfectly, it took Vanora’s breath away. Was this the most important aspect of her dream?

  At lunch time she ate a grilled cheese sandwich and slices of frozen Fredericksburg, Texas peaches. Though she usually loved the sweetness of the peaches from the Hill Country, she barely registered their taste. Her thoughts were consumed with the final sketch.

  Returning to her room, she settled into her stack of pillows and started to outline the final scene from her dream. Though she had been comfortable with her nudity in the dream, she didn’t feel the same when it came to rendering it. She finally opted to draw Armando’s bite so that was framed from her collarbone up. Her fin
al sketch was of the view outside the windows.

  By the time she finished, she was surprised to see the long shadows filling in her room. Checking the time, she realized she had spent most of the day drawing. With that revelation, her fingers began to ache with a dull pain. Vanora stared at her stack of books and her laptop. She knew she needed to work on her paper and study, but in the aftermath of her dream, her schooling seemed inconsequential.

  Feeling utterly drained emotionally, physically, and maybe psychically, she hid the sketches in the box on her shelf and lay on the unmade bed. Vanora didn’t want to sleep, but it called to her. Her eyelids were heavy and the warmth in the room in comparison to the cold front whistling outside her window made her even sleepier.

  Vanora was nearly completely asleep, when she felt the softest of touches on her brow.

  “Be strong,” Carys’s voice whispered.

  “I will, Mom,” Vanora murmured, then drifted away.

  Exhaustion ate at Rhonda. She’d tried calling Vanora multiple times throughout the day, but had been dumped instantly into voicemail. Either her best friend had forgotten to turn on her phone, or was too deep into her studies to answer. Rhonda had thought maybe she could rope Vanora into dinner and a movie, but by the end of the work day she knew that she’d most likely be falling face-first into bed the second she got home.

  Though Rhonda hadn’t wanted to worry Vanora, security had reported seeing Neil, the employee she had fired, lingering outside the store in the early morning hours. He’d been hanging out at the bus stop located on the sidewalk that bordered the parking lot of the shopping center. He did live nearby, so it could have been just a coincidence, but it unnerved Rhonda. The double security that had been canceled and only the regular guard, Terry, would be on night duty. Though Terry was very competent, Rhonda wasn’t sure the short, stocky woman could take down Neil if he tried anything. Terry was unarmed, except for pepper spray.

  Throughout the day, Rhonda fought to remain focused on the task at hand. The storeroom was ready for inventory, but the floor had a lot of work yet to be done. Her assistant managers were working long hours, too, but Rhonda had reached a point of exhaustion where she knew she had to head home earlier than she had been, or take a serious hit to her health. The district manager had even called to tell her to go home at closing, but reminded her to be right back at work first thing in the morning.