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

by Rhiannon Frater

  “My brother and sister have been obsessed with our ages and that you’re a vampire, but I just can’t care about those things. Not anymore. I wasted too much time in Austin away from a brother who loved me and now he’s gone. I may lose my sister before all of this is over. I may lose you. I might lose my own life.” Vanora stretched out her hand toward Armando. “No more regrets. No more running away. Okay?”

  “Okay.” Armando lingered with uncertainty at the end of her bed staring at her proffered hand. “What are you asking of me?”

  Crawling to the end of her bed to the spot where he stood, Vanora rose onto her knees, and tangled her fingers in his silky black curls. “For you to kiss me.”

  With a grin, he said, “One kiss is never enough.”

  “I was hoping you’d say that.”

  Catching his lips with her own, her tongue meeting his, Vanora savored the moment as he enfolded her in his arms. She deepened their kiss while cupping his beloved face between her palms. It had been so long since their last kiss, but it was forever burned in her mind, replaying in the darkest hours of the night in her dreams. To once again have him in her arms was bliss.

  Fingers scrabbling at his jeans, she sucked provocatively on his tongue making him moan. “Hurry, Armando...before the sun rises. I need you.”

  Grumbling in Spanish, Armando checked the time on his phone. Vanora made out a few of the words, which made her suspect he was cursing the coming sun. “I would like a bit more time to show you how much I’ve missed you, but the fucking sun...”

  Vanora wiggled out of her tank top and tossed it over her shoulder. “Shut up. Get naked. Make love to me.”

  “You’re very demanding.”

  Sliding off her pajama bottoms she sank back onto the bed, resting on her elbows. From the stunned expression on Armando’s face and the seductive smile that promptly formed on his lips, it was clear he was enthralled with the sensuous display of her body. Whereas the first time they had made love, she’d felt vulnerable in her nudity, those reservations were now gone. It wasn’t time to dwell on death and darkness, but to grasp firmly at life and abandon regrets.

  Moving faster than any human, Armando tugged off the borrowed t-shirt while shucking off his boots, socks and jeans. The dim light cast by the lamp on the bed stand cast alluring shadows over his finely sculpted chest and arms before he met her on the bed once again. Sliding her fingertips over his back, she arched up to his hungry kiss.

  As his mouth slid along her neck, the tip of his tongue teasing her skin, she trembled at the memory of the sharp teeth she had glimpsed years earlier. He bit her, not drawing blood, but teasingly. A brief stab of fear made her gasp, but she didn’t pull away.

  “I missed you so much,” he breathed in her ear then sucked the lobe between his lips.

  “Show me,” Vanora answered, tilting her head to catch his bottom lip between her teeth.

  With a grin, Armando covered her mouth with his and rendered her nearly breathless.

  For the last few years, she had tried to ignore the memory of his touch, but it had been impossible to forget their lone time together. In the quiet of the night, Vanora had vividly remembered how he had elicited the greatest of pleasure with his fingers, mouth, and cock. She craved to feel all those wonderful things again and guided him with gentle pushes of her hands. There wasn’t much time and she craved him.

  Panting with eagerness when he slid down her body, his cool skin brushing over hers Vanora bit her bottom lip. The gentle nips of his teeth on her pale pink nipples enticed breathy whimpers out of her. As his mouth continued to trail down her belly, it held the promise of an even more explosive gratification.

  Vanora fought away trepidation, fear, and guilt at defying her sibling’s admonitions. There was no denying she loved and wanted Armando. She could no longer live in the shadow of her darkest emotions.

  All thoughts were lost when he settled between her thighs. Intertwining his arms with her legs, he held her captive while his tongue lashed her sensitive clit and made her cry out so loud she clapped one hand over her mouth. Vampires didn’t have to breathe and Armando used that reality to his utmost advantage. When the pleasure became too much to endure, she tried to squirm away but he held her firmly. His tongue was relentless. Even tugging on his hair didn’t dissuade him.

  “You’re trying to kill me,” she gasped.

  Vanora felt his sharp fangs as he tugged one more time on her inner lips and bud and she spiraled into a vortex of pleasure that left her shaking. Climbing over her body, Armando checked the time again. Sprawled beneath the vampire, Vanora’s hands fluttered against the hard lines of his waist. The tip of his erect cock dragged over her thigh as his weight shifted. Somehow his casual nudity and familiarity seemed even more provocative than him going down on her. It made Vanora feel like he was truly hers.

  Curls falling into his face, he growled with aggravation. “Only a few more minutes.”

  Draping her legs around his body, she pulled herself upward, impaling herself on his dick. “Then hurry.”

  The years apart had changed her and she had never realized how much until that moment. Their first time together, she had been afraid, naive, and terribly nervous. Though he was the only man she’d ever had sex with, the years had peeled way much of her insecurities. Tonight, she’d made the choice to cling to what bits of her life remained and not be encumbered by the past. That included letting herself be loved by Armando and loving him in return. She met his kisses with amorous ferocity, matched his thrusts with equal need, and gave herself completely to him.

  When Armando finally came inside her and buried his face in her neck and hair, she locked her arms and legs around him, unwilling to relinquish her hold him. Gentle, elegant fingers stroking her arm, Armando held her against his still chest. Though she was breathing hard and sweating, he wasn’t winded in the least and chill as marble.

  “If the fuckin’ sun wasn’t coming up...” he groused.

  Combing her fingers through his hair, she lightly kissed his forehead.

  Armando lifted his head and nibbled her lips tenderly. “I love you.”

  Tracing his chin with her fingertips, she stared into his amber eyes. His thick lashes made them even more beautiful. “I love you, too.”

  Sighing with what appeared to be relief, he rested his head next to hers. Reluctantly, she let him slip free of her body so he could lie beside her.

  “You’re my moon goddess,” Armando said, awe and love filling his voice. His fingers lightly plucked at one pale nipple.

  “You’re my moody, pain in the ass vampire.” Vanora rolled into his arms and rested her head against shoulder.

  Armando sighed with contentment. “I was afraid you’d marry that asshole, you know.”

  “That asshole wouldn’t have married me. I’m not pure.”

  Armando made a scoffing noise. “And he was?”

  “Of course not. Double standards and all that stuff.” Vanora pulled the covers over them and fidgeted until she found a perfectly comfortable spot that maximized how much of her body was pressed against his. The frown lines between Armando’s eyebrows amused her and she lightly brushed her fingers over them. “We both know he didn’t have a chance in hell.”

  “Because you weren’t over me,” Armando said, smiling with his usual arrogance.

  “Not one bit.” Vanora dotted his jawline with kisses. His eyes were drooping and she could see the exhaustion settling into his face and body. The sun was close to rising.

  “Vanora...” His smile faded away. “I will do everything I can to protect you, but I don’t know that I can.”

  “Let’s not worry about it right now, okay?” Tucking her head under his chin, she concentrated on the lingering ripples of pleasure that still coursed through her body. “I don’t want to think about anything else other than us.”

  “When I fall asleep, I won’t rouse if something happens. If we’re attacked in the daylight hours and somehow they get in, leave
me. Escape.”

  “Armando...”

  “Just agree to that.”

  “Okay.”

  With a sigh, Armando held her closer. “I won’t waken until sunset.”

  “It’s all right. I’m tired. I’ll probably sleep all day.” Vanora dreaded seeing him fall asleep. She wondered if he would look dead. Yet, she didn’t want to leave his side. It felt strangely right to have him in her bed.

  Armando showered her head with kisses, his fingers intertwined in her hair. “I love you,” he said, then his body abruptly went still and his limbs slumped.

  Reaching behind her, Vanora gripped his wrist and dragged his arm over her waist. Holding his hand, she closed her eyes and wished for a deep, dreamless sleep.

  The warm waters of the gulf lapped around her feet as the sand squelched between Vanora’s toes. Standing on the shore, she watched the dark shape of a ship in the distance as it sluiced across the moon dappled waves. The long white nightgown she wore did little to keep out the cold and the hem was soaked with salt water.

  "He's almost here."

  Vanora glanced over her shoulder to see Lorelei standing a few feet away. Though encompassed by the gloom of the night, the moon shed enough light to illuminate her cold blue eyes and taunting smile.

  "Boo," Lorelei said mockingly.

  "Who is he, Lorelei? Who is the albino vampire?"

  "Your future, of course."

  "His name, Lorelei. What is his name?" Vanora demanded.

  Lorelei exhaled slowly. "I can't tell you that. Edicts can't be defied."

  “Edicts?”

  "Run away while you still have the chance," Carys urged as her form took shape beneath the water. She floated just below the crests a few feet from where Vanora stood. "He'll destroy you," her mother said, her lips not moving under the veil of waves.

  "He won't kill her, foolish witch. He would never do that," Lorelei snapped.

  Beneath the water, Carys shook her head, the hilt of the dagger plunged into her chest piercing the surface. "He'll destroy her."

  "You can't escape, you know..." It was Rhonda, sitting at the edge of the water. The wind played with her curls and the reflection of the moon glowed in her eyes. "It'll wash over you and drown you. Just like me."

  “Rhonda,” Vanora whispered, her heart breaking.

  “She killed me, Vanora,” Rhonda said, indicating Lorelei with a quick jerk of her chin.

  “You needed to come home to face your fate,” Lorelei said with a false sweetness.

  “I don’t understand…”

  Carys continued to bob beneath the waves, eyes closed in death. “Run, Vanora. Run away.”

  "Vanora, ignore them. Come here!"

  Spinning about, Vanora saw Roman standing in the darkened doorway of the mausoleum. "Roman..."

  "Vanora, don't listen to the Fates."

  "The Fates?" Vanora stepped onto the crisp grass lawn of her home and left behind the beach, the ship sailing in the distance, and the three women on the shore.

  The female voices jumbled together as they whispered:

  "Run away."

  "He won't kill you. You're his future."

  "You can't escape."

  "Nothing is set in stone, Vanora. Nothing. The Fates conspire, but will not win. Do you understand?" Roman set his hands on her shoulders when she drew near.

  "No, I don't. Not at all."

  "The wolf will give you the answers." Roman kissed her cheek gently, then sifted into gray ashes that coated her damp feet.

  The darkness of the mausoleum loomed in front of Vanora, summoning her silently to enter. Behind her she could hear the three women still arguing, but she ignored them. In the mausoleum, answers waited for her. Gingerly stepping inside, the frigid, stale air closed around her.

  Somewhere in the dark, something large and furry moved. A low growl rumbled through the mausoleum, echoing as though in a vast chamber.

  "Are you the wolf?" Vanora asked.

  "Yes," came a woman's voice. "Step closer."

  "Vanora, don't." Armando swept her into his arms and carried her into the golden light of a single candle tucked into an alcove. "Don't listen to them. Any of them."

  "I want answers, Armando," Vanora protested. "I want to understand."

  Armando's handsome face and golden eyes drew close to her and his lips met hers in a fiery kiss. She lost herself in his touch and when they parted she saw the glimmer of his sharp teeth behind his lips.

  "Let me save you," he said as he lowered his mouth to her throat.

  Vanora closed her eyes and the bite came.

  Vanora drifted out of the tormented world of dreams. Groggily, she lifted her head unsure of her surroundings in the first few seconds of awareness. It gradually sank into her bewildered mind that she was in her old bedroom in the Socoli Mansion. To make matters even more unusual, she was snuggled against Armando’s nude body. Sweeping her hair from her face, she rested a hand against his chest and lifted herself to peer at his face. She’d fallen asleep with the lamp on and the warm glow illuminated his features. To her relief, he appeared in a deep slumber even though his chest was still and he hadn’t moved since the sun rose.

  Fingers trailing along his collar bone, she kissed Armando’s chilled lips. The love she felt for him burned so hot inside her, it almost hurt. The door that had opened between them that wonderful, yet terrible Halloween night had never truly closed. She saw that now. The fact she had stepped through it and into a deeper relationship with the vampire was terrifying. She couldn’t allow herself to think about what the future held for either one of them. It was difficult to do when she knew they could both lose their lives.

  And if somehow they survived, what future could there be for them? Last night she had vowed to embrace the present and not fret over what might be. Gazing at Armando, she had no regrets about her decision.

  A glimpse at the clock revealed it was a little after noon. Her stomach was grumbling and her mouth was parched. Vanora found her pajamas among the covers and dressed rapidly. The room was very cold and she made a mental note to check the heater. She supposed the vampires didn’t notice the freezing temperatures, but she certainly did. Adding a bathrobe to her ensemble, she shoved her feet into a pair of fuzzy penguin slippers.

  It was surprisingly difficult to leave Armando’s side. The vision of him lying on her bed surrounded by the gauzy drapery of her canopy made her heart beat just a little faster. It unnerved her to realize his heart was silent. That thought reminded her of the fragility of humanity. He was kept alive by something unnatural that she couldn’t fully comprehend. The metronome of her heart was the root of her life and its silence would mean her death.

  Pausing at the door, she deeply inhaled the icy air filling her room. To feel alive was vitally important all at once. She needed to feel the oxygen rushing into her lungs.

  In the hours since she had arrived in Houston, she had lost her grip on the human world and being consumed by the one of the undead. She was the lone human in the battle against the coming darkness.

  Exhaling, she let herself out of the bedroom.

  The house was utterly dark. All the curtains were drawn, blotting out the sunlight. She dared to take a peek out of a ground floor window and was nearly blinded by the glare of the day. Rubbing her smarting eyes, she stumbled to the kitchen. Miss Robbins had taken the time to refill the refrigerator with all the things Vanora enjoyed eating in anticipation of her return home. Vanora rummaged around before finally settling on warmed leftovers of Irish stew and a piece of apple pie. The food and the iced tea she poured herself chased away her hunger pangs and caffeine cravings. Poking the crumbs of pie crust with her fork once she was done eating, she let fresh, but silent tears fall before finally wiping them away with the cuff of her robe.

  It hurt to know Roman was gone forever, but there was really no time to mourn him. She needed answers, and to uncover the truth she would have to be bold and brave. Hopefully, she could be both. There was n
o point running away and she knew it, but that didn’t make the situation any easier. After cleaning the dishes and setting them in the sink to dry, she returned to the second floor.

  Instead of joining Armando, she let herself into her sister’s studio. Like the rest of the house the curtains were drawn. The gloom had finally eaten on her last nerve, so she opened the drapes and raised the shades. The light at first hurt her eyes, but when they adjusted she realized the daylight was muted by heavy winter storm clouds. She had become so acclimated to the dark that even the diluted sunlight had seemed too bright. Again, she was unnerved to realize how easily she was adapting to the world of the vampires.

  Someone had taken the time to stack the paintings Alisha had strewn about the night before. Vanora started to sort them on the work table, but rapidly realized this wouldn’t be plausible. Instead, she started to lay them on the floor in a semi-circle by themes.

  One set was all about Roman’s death. It hurt just to look at them, so she placed them face down in a stack.

  Another set featured her sister and the family mausoleum. Alisha was depicted as a bloodthirsty vampire, complete with bared fangs, and the mausoleum was featured in each one. Was this her sister’s fear? Or was this her reality? Alisha painted the future, but she already existed as a vampire so what did the paintings actually mean?

  Another series confused Vanora. It was of regular objects burning. A hair brush. A pair of shoes. If Alisha hadn’t hid them away Vanora would have assumed that they were just a new study utilizing fire. Alisha had been building a reputation in the art world for her penchant for vivid imagery comprising of various light sources before retreating into obscurity.

  The final set truly bothered Vanora. All of them were of Vanora being overwhelmed by the dark. Sometimes she was in water, other times it was a thick black mist. One painting revealed Vanora reaching for a lit candle as the hand of an unseen assailant dragged her from it. And, of course, there was the painting of the phantom male pressing his lips to Vanora’s throat that had bothered Armando so much. The night before his face had clearly displayed his displeasure. Whether or not she was supposed to be dead, sleeping, or swooning was left up to interpretation. The paintings born of Alisha’s supernatural and artistic abilities were disturbing and uncomfortably personal. It was like peering into Alisha’s mind.