In Darkness We Must Abide: The Complete First Season: Episodes 1-5

by Rhiannon Frater

  A gentle rap on the window startled her.

  Gasping, she sat up, clutching her covers to her neck.

  Perched outside her window was a familiar figure. Dark hair and profile illuminated by the moon, Armando raised his hand to tap on the glass again. Sliding out of bed, Vanora waved at him, not wanting Roman or Alisha to hear. Excitement choking her, Vanora hurried to the window. Smoothing her hair back from her face and tugging down her pale pink tank top over her stomach, she resisted the urge to tug on the wedgie her pajama shorts were giving her.

  Gritting her teeth, she opened the window slowly, trying desperately not to make any unnecessary noise. Roman was downstairs watching TV while Alisha painted in her studio. They most likely wouldn’t hear the window opening, but the fact that Armando was perched outside her room in the middle of the night was rather scandalous. She wasn’t even sure how to respond to his surprising appearance.

  Armando flashed his wickedly handsome smile when she finished opening the window. The vampire was delicately balanced on the narrow windowsill. As always, he made even simple black jeans and a gray t-shirt seem elegant. The familiar scent of his cologne tickled her nose, and his curls shifted against his high brow as he slightly pivoted toward her.

  “Happy birthday,” he whispered.

  Vanora glanced at her clock before drawing over the stool from her vanity so she could sit next to the window. “You’re creepy.”

  Armando lifted an eyebrow.

  “I was born at 12:45 AM in the morning.”

  Peering around her, Armando chuckled. “One minute late actually. So I assume I’m the first to wish you happy birthday on your actual birthday.”

  Giggling, Vanora nodded. “Yes, you are. Is that why you’re creeping outside my window?”

  Armando smirked with amusement. “Creeping?”

  “Yeah, creeping.” Vanora couldn’t help but smile at him shyly. “Is this a vampire thing? Hanging outside of girl’s bedrooms?”

  “Actually, yes. We wait until you’re asleep then compel you to open the window so we can do terrible things. It’s a tradition.” Armando was clearly teasing her.

  Vanora narrowed her eyes. “The whole ‘I vant to zuck yer blood’ thing, huh?”

  Maybe it was her imagination, but for a moment, his expression was quite devilish as his gaze dipped downward briefly. She swiftly crossed her arms over her breasts.

  “That and other…things.”

  “Are you flirting with me?” Vanora accused him playfully.

  Armando promptly sobered, his smile vanishing. “Of course not! I’m just giving you a small history lesson on how terrible vampires can be.”

  Disappointed, Vanora felt her joy at seeing him deflate just a little.

  “I’m actually here because your brother has banned all vampires from the house during your birthday. And since you were gone all weekend, I had to find a way to see you and wish you a happy birthday.”

  “You knew I was gone this weekend?”

  “Roman told me you went to Galveston with your Uncle Nicolau and his family. Did you have a pleasant time?”

  Vanora nodded slightly. “It was nice.”

  To her relief, he flashed his charming, alluring smile, wiping away the seriousness that had fallen over his features briefly. “I’m pleased. You deserve happiness.”

  The heat in her face was embarrassing, and Vanora tilted her head forward so her pale hair would hide her flushed cheeks. It was horrible how his mere smile could make her feel giddy and nervous all at once.

  To her surprise and pleasure, Armando gently swept a lock of hair away from her face and tucked it behind her ear so he could see her face. Feeling more like a flustered fourteen-year-old than a maturing young woman of seventeen, Vanora swallowed and tried to keep her hands from trembling. She couldn’t fathom why Armando felt it important to wish her a happy birthday. Her mind was spinning out a thousand crazy theories, but they all seemed far too fantastical to be the truth.

  As though to answer her unspoken question, Armando said, “I brought you a gift.” He reached into his pocket and extracted a small box wrapped expertly in pretty pink paper tied with a creamy satin bow. Gently, he rested the gift in her trembling hands. He briefly squeezed them, his skin cool against her fevered flesh. “I thought of you when I saw it.”

  Where he’d touched her hand, her skin felt like it was on fire. “You really didn’t have to get me anything,” Vanora said, her voice quivering slightly. She hated how his golden eyes reduced her insides to so much quivering goo. He was so much older than she was, worldly, sophisticated, intelligent, and very, very undead.

  Armando shrugged slightly. “But I wanted to.”

  Carefully, Vanora pried the tape from the shiny paper lamenting her chipped pale pink manicure. Inside was a dark blue jewelry box. When she opened it, she instantly smiled. A silver charm bracelet was nestled against the black velvet. Tiny stars and the moon in all its phases dangled from an intricate chain. “Wow, it’s beautiful.”

  “I thought it would look beautiful against your white skin,” Armando answered.

  “Why moons and stars?” Vanora looked up at him through her white lashes.

  Glancing briefly at the moon, Armando looked quite thoughtful. At last he said, “You’re a moon goddess. All that’s beautiful in the moon is reflected in your lovely hair and complexion. Even your lavender eyes remind me of the night.”

  “The writer in you is showing,” Vanora teased, but she was deeply moved by his words. Tears pricked at her eyes.

  “I felt inspired.” His smile was a touch bittersweet.

  Vanora rested her hand over his and returned his smile. In spite of her determination to keep it together, her fingers were still trembling. Her heart was thudding so hard in her chest, she was sure he could hear it. The glint of the moonlight in his dark wavy hair, the light scruff on his chin, and the strong swoop of his cheekbones transfixed her. She found herself staring at him and swiftly averted her gaze.

  The tantalizing touch of his fingers against her chin drew her gaze up to his face. “So you like it, Vanora?”

  “I love it,” she said a tad breathlessly.

  He grinned, dropping his hand. “I’m glad.”

  “Is it silver?” she asked, surprised.

  “Yes, it is, so be careful when you wear it around vampires. It can leave a nasty burn.”

  Vanora lifted one eyebrow, her fingers tracing over the charms. “It’s pretty and a weapon.”

  “If it needs to be,” Armando agreed.

  “Not that any of the vampires I know would hurt me,” Vanora said, but she felt strangely unsure suddenly if those words were true.

  “But there are vampires you don’t know,” Armando reminded her.

  An icy wave slid through her body, and she shivered.

  “But your brother would never allow anyone to hurt you,” Armando said. His voice sounded haunted somehow.

  Vanora shifted so she could see his face clearer. Emotions she found hard to discern shifted over his expression. “I’m sure you wouldn’t either. We’re friends after all.”

  Armando hesitated, then reached above him to draw something off the slope of the roof. It was a perfect red rose. Armando kept it away from his face as he handed it to her, obviously repulsed by the flower’s perfume. “Another gift.”

  Startled, Vanora took it from him. Roses caused vampires great discomfort, so she was surprised by the gesture, especially considering sharp thorns still decorated the stem. “Thank you.” She inhaled its fragrance, then swiveled on her stool to place it on her vanity along with the bracelet.

  Armando’s hand caught her arm, drawing her back about. “Vanora, you will wear the bracelet, won’t you?”

  “Of course! I love it! I’ll wear it every day just like I wear my cross.” Since her siblings had transformed, she wore the cross on a longer chain so that it was tucked between her breasts over her heart and not visible.

  “I just sometimes worry,
” Armando said, his smile losing most of its mysterious allure. He actually did look very concerned. Slipping through the window, he sat next to her on the window ledge, his knee lightly brushing hers. She had never been so close to him before. Over the years, she had thought her crush on the Spanish vampire would fade. Tonight, her feelings for him no longer felt like childish infatuation. She felt far removed from the child she had been when she’d met him. Every part of her responded to his simple presence, from the throbbing between her legs, to the pinch of her nipples, to her pounding heartbeat. Nothing felt the same between them anymore, and yet she feared she was the only one who felt the difference.

  “Is something wrong?” Vanora finally dared to ask.

  Lowering his lids so his dark lashes threw long shadows over his cheekbones in the light cast from the night light, Armando sat in silence for a few long, anxiety-inducing moments. “You’ll be leaving soon. I wonder what will become of your siblings once you’re gone. You mean the world to them. You are their reason for being as strong as they are in their convictions to not be mere monsters.”

  “They’ll be fine. Like you. You aren’t a monster.”

  Armando laughed softly, shaking his head. “Perhaps I am more a monster than you think I am.”

  Lifting a shoulder, Vanora said, “I don’t believe it.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I feel it in here,” Vanora answered, pressing her hand to her heart. “You’re not a monster. I know you’d never hurt me.” She hastily added, “Or anyone else.”

  “But I have,” Armando said somberly. It was as if he couldn’t bear to look at her anymore. Instead, he twisted on his perch and focused his attention to the moon above the trees.

  Leaning toward him, Vanora poked him in the ribs. “Why so moody?”

  “I just look at you, so young and innocent, and I dread those qualities being taken from you.” His gaze swept over her from head to foot. “You’re not a little girl anymore and life can be cruel. People can be cruel.”

  “I’m used to it.” Vanora shrugged. She thought of the man at the restaurant just the other night.

  “You shouldn’t be used to it.” Armando’s voice held something dark and dangerous she had never heard before.

  Then she felt it. Just like her emotions were sloshing about wildly inside of her mind, so were his. He was just as flummoxed as she was in this moment. Vanora felt it so keenly she knew it to be true. But what did it mean?

  “It’s the whole albino thing,” she said, indicating her face and hair. “It gives people a case of the stupids.”

  “Why don’t you wear your glasses?” Armando asked abruptly, surprising her.

  “I don’t need them.” She rubbed her nose nervously. “I know that no one believes me. I’m supposedly blind, but I can see. Clearly. The doctor thinks I memorized the eye chart, or that I’m somehow cheating. Physically, my eyes are blind. But I can see. I can see you clearly.”

  “You watch the world through your other eye then,” Armando said in awe. He pointed one finger at the center of her forehead.

  “Yeah! Exactly! Alisha thinks I’m just trying to avoid wearing glasses because I look like a dork with them on, but I can see.” It felt strange confiding something so personal to Armando.

  “You’re going to be powerful, you know,” he said, a slight smile spreading on the curve of his lips. “You already are powerful.”

  “You mean with the sixth sense?”

  “I mean in every way.”

  The darkness around her was pulsing with a growing energy and Vanora was finding it harder to take a breath. Armando’s stillness was disconcerting. She wished she could peer into his thoughts and know his mind. Suddenly, she was afraid of him, of herself, and the growing need she felt inside her.

  “I have school,” she said lamely.

  “I should go,” he said, sighing.

  “Thank you for the gifts, Armando.”

  In an impulsive, crazed moment, Vanora leaned toward him to press a kiss to his cheek. Nervousness and lack of experience resulted in her aim being awkwardly off. Her lips brushed against the corner of his mouth.

  The world swam around her, panic and embarrassment seizing her. Voiceless in her mortification, she ducked her head, drawing away. Armando’s cool hand caught her chin, tilting her face back toward him. His amber eyes gleamed in the darkness with preternatural light as he gazed at her. An apology hovered on her lips, but she couldn’t find her voice when he was staring at her in a strange, new way. As though mesmerized, Armando slanted his head downward and kissed her.

  The first kiss was light, soft, and far too quick. Just the simple touch of lips and it was over. A part of her brain was screaming with delight that Armando had just kissed her while another part panicked with the implications. It wasn’t her mind that controlled her next action, but her heart. Sliding her hands into his glossy dark hair, she pulled him close and pressed her lips to his.

  In spite of the coldness of his lips, she was on fire. The chasteness of their first kiss was forgotten in the heat of their second. His lips were cold, soft and demanding, yet all she felt was the burning need for his caress. Fingertips grazing her waist just below her tank top, his touch left icy trails of pleasure. Then it was over, his hands pressing her back gently, her lips naked without his.

  “Happy birthday, Vanora,” he said, his voice a little rough.

  Unconsciously, she reached for him, but he caught her hands. After kissing her palms, he slipped out the window, resuming his precarious stance on the windowsill.

  “Armando,” she breathed.

  “You’re not for me, Vanora,” he whispered. “I am not for you.”

  Ashamed of her impulsiveness, she retreated from the window, her head down. “I’m sorry.”

  “No. I am.”

  The words held such terrible sadness, Vanora raised her gaze immediately to seek the truth in his golden eyes, but he was gone.

  *

  Armando landed on the other side of the wall and strode swiftly to his car. Pulling out his cellphone, he stared at the small, darkened screen with trepidation.

  The lingering sensation of Vanora’s warm lips was an unsettling reminder of his weakness. His role as her protector was one he had taken seriously for several years now, but tonight he had unexpectedly crossed a line. Though he had always thought of her as a lovely child, tonight he had seen her as a beautiful woman. That realization had been both startling and upsetting. It had been sheer audacity and stupidity to kiss the young woman.

  Brushing the back of his hand over his mouth, he fought to regain his composure. Anger and frustration ate at him.

  The phone rang in his hand and he immediately answered it.

  “Did you give her the rose?” His Master’s voice, deep, dark, and dangerous, instantly chilled him.

  “Yes.”

  “Well done.” The sound of sirens in the background and the laughter of the Master’s primary enforcer were a tiny and eerie cacophony. “Acquire a photo of her soon. I wish to see her.”

  “I will as soon as I can. Roman doesn’t allow me to have access to her. I took a risk delivering the rose tonight,” Armando said, pacing beside of his car.

  “Find a way. You say she’s lovely. I want to see her.”

  “I’ll find a way.”

  “I know you will.” Another pause. Someone screamed on the other side of the connection. “There. Russian vampires die so slowly. It’s rather enjoyable.”

  “Master, she’s leaving here by the end of the year.”

  “I have a war to fight and cannot be constantly monitoring your progress. Make sure she continues to trust you.”

  Leaning against his car, Armando sighed. “I understand.”

  “How is the construction of my haven coming along?”

  “It will be ready when you arrive.”

  Another scream. Then a woman laughing.

  “Armando, you are my favorite. I trust you more than any other. I have gi
ven you the most sacred of duties. The care of my future queen.”

  Closing his eyes, Armando nodded. “I understand.”

  “Do not fail me.”

  The call disconnected and Armando snapped his phone shut. Resting his arms on the hood of his car, he stared at the moon glowing through the hazy cloud cover. He had to harden his heart and steel his resolve. Though Vanora was blossoming into a beautiful woman, he could not allow himself to be drawn to her or care for her personally. She was his duty and he had to keep his focus on that reality.

  Flipping his phone open, he made a quick call.

  “What do you want?” Carlotta’s voice demanded after several rings.

  “You. Meet me at my apartment in thirty minutes,” Armando said gruffly.

  With a delightfully wicked laugh, Carlotta said, “Did your little girl get you all hot and bothered?”

  “Don’t make me hurt you,” Armando growled.

  “But I want you to,” Carlotta said flirtatiously in response.

  “Be there.” It was not a request.

  She hung up without saying a word, but he knew she would come to him.

  Unlocking his car door, he forced himself to not look back at the mansion, nor the window where he had tasted the sweetest of lips.

  *

  “I’m sorry, Vanora,” the woman with the sea green eyes whispered. “The darkness is consuming everything around me and will soon drown me.”

  Vanora could barely discern the outline of a woman floating above the ivory organza of her canopy. Sitting up, she stretched out her hands, reaching up toward the shape. “Mommy!”

  The fabric tore free from the bed frame and fell, covering Vanora. Abruptly, it transformed to foamy water. Gasping, Vanora felt herself dragged beneath the waves into the darkness below. Struggling, she fought to ascend, her hands dragging through the water. A white hand emerged from the darkness to grip hers, then Vanora was lifted through the churning waves. When she arrived at the surface, she coughed violently, trying to breathe again.