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

by Rhiannon Frater

  “Maybe. I suppose it was a vivid reminder of what I lost and can no longer have.”

  “But you may one day find love, Roman. Look at Sheila and Alexander. They’ve been together well over a century.”

  “What about you, Armando?” Roman stared at his friend, curiosity nibbling at him.

  “I’ve had many lovers,” Armando said with a dismissive shrug.

  “But actual love?”

  “I have avoided it.” It was an honest answer that was also unexpected.

  “Why?”

  “Because I don’t want to lose love again,” Armando answered. “To feel that pain. That loss.”

  “So four hundred years…”

  Armando gave him a slight nod. “I have been fond of many women and spent years with some of them, but if there was even an inkling I could fall in love with them, I would leave. Always.”

  “I don’t think I could do that,” Roman decided. “I would have to give it a chance.”

  Armando didn’t respond.

  “But I am glad you’re my friend. I thank you for spending the day here so you could speak to Rhonda for me. I trust your opinion.”

  “Rhonda cares for Vanora. She’s a good friend. You shouldn’t worry,” Armando said with a slight smile.

  Feeling a twinge of guilt over bringing up a difficult and dreary subject matter, Roman said, “I didn’t mean to pry about…your love life.”

  “You’re not prying into something I do not have. That I cannot have.” Armando’s voice was flat.

  “Maybe one day. For both of us.”

  Armando lifted his amber eyes. “For you.”

  “Abstaining from love is never a good idea,” Roman declared. He grinned at Armando and went to reclaim his wineglass filled with pig’s blood and wine. “It has a way of finding you when you least expect it. Or maybe that is just what I’m hoping.”

  The door clicked open and Alisha poked her head in. “They’re gone. Off to some concert Rhonda’s brother is having.”

  “How was the visit?”

  Alisha entered the room and crawled over the back of the brocade sofa that Roman had already made a mental note to have reupholstered. It was an older piece of furniture that had been brought from Romania. “Oh, she’s a wild one. She’ll get Vanora out and about in Austin. They’ll be fine. Rhonda is that wild friend every shy girl should have.”

  “Wild? I don’t like wild!” Roman frowned, sipping the blood and finding it a bit flat.

  “This from the blood-sucking vampire,” Alisha scoffed.

  Roman rolled his eyes. “Maybe one of you should go check on them. Make sure they are safe.”

  “You’re never going to survive her moving away, are you?” Alisha shook her head.

  “Maybe she should stay in Houston,” Armando suggested.

  “Oh?” Alisha said in a significant tone.

  Armando lifted an eyebrow.

  “Am I missing something?” Roman looked between the two in confusion.

  “No,” Armando said swiftly.

  “Probably,” Alisha said with a wide grin.

  “Why do I never know what you’re talking about?” Roman playfully smacked Alisha on the back of the head.

  “Because you’re a man. And oblivious. Drink your blood, dear.”

  Roman fastened his most stern expression upon his face and leaned toward Alisha. “Are you keeping something from me?”

  “Me? Keeping something from you? Oh, no. Not me.” Alisha grinned at Armando.

  Armando glanced at his watch. “I need to go. I have a book deadline and I’m behind.”

  “Thanks for the advice,” Roman said, watching his friend head toward the door.

  Armando merely nodded and slipped out of the library.

  “You’re up to something,” Roman said suspiciously to his sister.

  “Me?” Alisha plastered a very fake smile on her face. “I’m the picture of innocence.”

  “Uh huh.” Roman eyed her suspiciously.

  “Let’s go over to Sheila and Alexander’s. They’re having a small party.”

  “A date with my sister. How pathetic is that?”

  Alisha laid her head on his shoulder. “You know how to make a girl feel special.”

  Roman gruffly kissed her forehead. “Fine. Let’s go. Maybe you’ll find yourself a nice vampire boyfriend.”

  “Maybe you’ll find yourself a nice vampire girlfriend.”

  “That would be nice,” Roman admitted.

  The loneliness inside of Roman ached, but a spark of hope started to make it more tolerable. Maybe one day both he and Alisha would find someone to be at their side through the long nights.

  ***

  The club was cramped, hot, and hazy. The smoking ordinance wasn’t going into effect until September, and it was as if everyone was puffing away in anticipation. Rhonda was chain smoking while flirting outrageously with someone far too old for her. Rhonda’s brother, meanwhile, was being his usual creepy self.

  “I wrote a new song. It’s the third one in our set. I get very sensual when I sing it. I feel like I’m having sex with the audience,” Trey said, giving her what he thought was a smoldering look. Instead, it just made him even creepier.

  “I hope you’re using protection,” Vanora answered, sipping her diet soda.

  “What? Oh! Yeah.” Stretching out his long body, Trey swept his wavy blond hair back from his face. “I usually make sure my lovers are on the Pill. That way we can both get maximum pleasure.”

  “Uh. Right.” Vanora made a mental note to later threaten Rhonda to within an inch of her life. The last thing she wanted Trey to know was that she’d been on the Pill since fourteen to regulate her periods.

  “You know what I mean?” Trey lifted his black tank top to flash his abs while pretending to scratch his chest.

  “No. No. I don’t. Not from experience.” Vanora deliberately looked away from him.

  “Do you want the experience?” Trey grinned at her rakishly.

  “With you? No.” Vanora scoffed at the offer.

  “You do realize lots of girls want me. Lots of them.”

  “So go bug them,” Vanora answered.

  Trey’s smile grew wider, flashing all his teeth. “Oh, I get it. Hard to get.”

  Vanora rolled her eyes again, putting a little more drama into the action.

  The club was all ages, but there were tons of college age guys hitting on the high school girls and plying them with drinks. Vanora made sure to stay far away from the bar unless she was getting a soda. Lately, the Texas Alcoholic Beverage Commission was on a rampage through the bars, making it difficult for there to be all-ages events. She’d heard rumors that some of the younger employees of TABC posed as college guys to offer younger kids drinks so the bar could get fined. Roman would kill her if she got cited. She didn’t even want to give anyone a chance to accuse her of anything possibly illegal.

  Placing his hand on the wall over her head, Trey leaned toward Vanora. “Look, we’ve been doing this song and dance for a while now. I know that you’re a bit hard up in the boy department because of your freaky looks, but I’m totally into it.”

  Vanora lifted her eyebrows. “Wow. That was lame.”

  Trey shrugged. “I’m being honest. I’m totally dying to see what’s under this.” His hand tugged on the bottom of her short black skirt.

  “Let her be,” a familiar voice said.

  Vanora looked over at the vampire incredulously. “Oh, God. Really?”

  Armando rested his hand on Trey’s shoulder and pushed him away from Vanora with one quick motion. Trey lost his footing and fell.

  “What the fuck, dude?”

  “This is so fuckin’ cliché,” Vanora grumbled to Armando, brushing past him irritably. Leaning over, she extended her hand to Trey. It was difficult to ignore how he tried to look down her top for a peek at her breasts as she hauled him to his feet. “This is my friend, Armando. He might try to bash your head in if you keep hitting on me.
He has this whole dark side.”

  Armando literally sneered.

  Trey adjusted his shirt and tugged up his low rise leather pants. “Chill, man. She’s into it.”

  “No, I’m not.”

  “Playing hard to get.”

  “No, I’m not.”

  “We have this whole vibe going.”

  “No, we don’t.”

  Rhonda appeared out of the crowd, grabbed her brother’s arm, and hauled him away. “Leave Vanora alone, dumb ass! That’s her boyfriend.”

  Pressing a hand to her forehead, Vanora spun toward Armando. “Really? The knight in shining armor ploy? Really?”

  “Your brother suggested that I make sure you were okay. And that…boy was acting inappropriately.” Armando took her drink from her and sniffed it.

  “It’s soda,” Vanora said, grabbing it back. “And since when are you Roman’s lackey?”

  “Your brother was concerned.”

  “Roman is paranoid.”

  “True.” Armando shifted on his feet, folding his arms over his chest. “Besides, I was bored and experiencing writer’s block.”

  “How did you find me?”

  “Rhonda texted me on your phone,” Armando answered.

  “That’s why she borrowed it? Ugh!” Vanora wagged her head with irritation. She felt all twisted up in knots whenever Armando was around and now Rhonda was conspiring with him against her. Taking out her phone, she checked her sent messages. Rhonda had been smart enough to delete them. “What did she say?”

  “That I should come because you were being harassed.”

  “By her brother.” Adjusting the strap of her black babydoll dress, Vanora shifted on her black high-heeled ankle boots. She always felt so damn awkward when Armando was around.

  Armando didn’t speak for a few minutes and neither did she. They kept catching each other’s eye as the music swirled around them and people jostled past them to the crowded dance floor. Vanora felt self-conscious about her appearance. Armando had never seen her dressed up. Her white-blond hair was gathered on top of her head in a loose beehive with curls falling over one shoulder, and Rhonda had helped her create cat-eyes with liquid eyeliner. Rubbing her lips together, she felt the creaminess of her pink lipstick. She tried to discreetly pull down the hem of her dress, afraid it was riding up in the back.

  “You look pretty,” Armando said at last.

  “So do you. I mean, handsome.” Vanora fussed with her side-swept bangs, trying not to let him see the flush creeping over her complexion.

  Armando grinned at her. “Thank you.”

  Vanora raised her eyes to the dusty rafters above her. When his arm snaked around her waist and he guided her into a dark corner, she let out a startled cry.

  “We need to talk.”

  “I don’t have a crush on you,” she said immediately, in an attempt to prevent another awkward conversation.

  “About your brother and sister,” Armando continued.

  “What about them?” Vanora played with her straw, swirling it around in the watery diet soda. The ice was nearly all melted.

  “I think maybe you should stay in Houston. They need you.”

  “They’re the ones telling me to leave, Armando.”

  “Yes, but they will do anything to give you a shot at the life they cannot have. You’re very important to them.” Armando’s vivid amber eyes stared into hers, pleading.

  “Only to them?” Vanora couldn’t help but ask. She wanted to hear him tell her how he felt about her departure, not what he thought her siblings were feeling.

  “I’ll miss you,” he said simply.

  “Why?”

  With an exasperated sigh, he looked away from her.

  “I’m tired of this,” Vanora muttered, brushing past him.

  Catching her arm, Armando drew her against him. His lips close to her ear, he whispered, “Don’t push me.”

  Tilting her head to look at him, Vanora felt her heart beating faster. “Let me go.”

  “No,” Armando answered. “I want you to listen to me about your brother and sister. They need you in their lives. Your humanity keeps them human.”

  The nearness of his body made her tremble. The sight of his lips made her remember the coolness of his kiss. She wanted to feel it again. “I’m not one of you, Armando. I can’t live in the dark forever.”

  A surprising look of pain flitted over his face. With a nod, he dropped his hold on her arm. “You’re right.”

  The desire to comfort him filled her, but she didn’t move. The air around them was fraught with unexpressed emotions. Vanora felt her eyes pulsing, the energy within her building. It was almost as if she could see the tendrils of her power touching Armando. In an instant, she knew he was just as torn as she was over everything that had occurred between them.

  “Don’t!” He drew away sharply. “Don’t do that.”

  Lips trembling, Vanora tried to rein in her psychic feelers, but it was difficult. A myriad of emotions crashed down on her, wiping away all sensation but the agony erupting in her mind. The cacophony of thoughts from the people in the bar made it almost impossible to even think. Gasping, she pressed a hand to her head, her drink spilling to the floor. Hardly able to breathe, she was barely aware of Armando taking hold of her and directing her through the crowd to the front doors. Stumbling into the humid night air, she gasped in pain.

  “Imagine a wall around your thoughts,” Armando urged. “Shut out everything around you.”

  “Hurts,” she wailed.

  “A wall, Vanora. Imagine it in your mind. Make it real.”

  Dimly, she was aware of being pressed against his body, his fingers stroking the back of her neck. The world was a blur of darkness with vibrant flashes of light.

  “A wall, Vanora.”

  Closing her eyes, Vanora instead imagined the bottom of her pool, dark and cold, distant from the rest of the world. Gradually, the overwhelming tumult of emotions dissipated into the waves. Soon, all that was left were her own thoughts.

  “I’m okay now. I’m okay.”

  Armando’s hands shook slightly as he guided her into the building and into a narrow hall that lead to the restrooms. She stumbled a few times. He appeared to realize she was temporarily blind and steered her to a bench.

  “You need to learn better control,” he chided her as she sat down.

  “Shut up.” She winced, her hand pressed to her forehead.

  “I’ll take you home,” Armando decided.

  “I need to tell Rhonda.”

  “Text her.”

  “I can’t see.”

  “I’ll go tell her. Stay here.”

  Vanora stared at the world full of shadows and blobs. “Trust me. I will.”

  A few minutes later he returned, claimed her hand, and once again guided her outside. This time he brought her to his car, tucked her inside, and belted her in. Vanora felt more embarrassed than anything else. She hadn’t meant to tap into her abilities and now felt foolish. Resting her head back against the coolness of the window, she closed her eyes.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to do that,” she whispered.

  “It’s all right,” Armando answered.

  “Nothing is all right. It’s all wrong.”

  “Don’t say that.”

  Fighting the urge to cry, Vanora pressed her fingers to her eyes. “Everything is so confusing.”

  “I know.”

  “Do you?”

  “Yes, of course.” Armando’s accent was thicker.

  Again, the sensation of being caught in a mini-storm of emotion swept over her. It was difficult to breathe, but she forced herself to. They both lapsed into silence, which was a sweet relief. It helped her gain control of herself and by the time they reached the mansion, most of her vision had returned.

  Not waiting for Armando to open the car door, she sprang out, her fingers popping open her small purse to fish out her keys. She heard Armando following, his shoes crunching on the driveway.
Moving faster than she thought possible, she unlocked the door, shoved it open, escaped inside, and slammed the door shut.

  Turning around, she gasped. Armando was standing behind her, the light from the foyer chandelier illuminating his handsome face. He had never looked more like a vampire than he did in that moment.

  “Armando,” she started.

  In the next second she was forced against the wall of the foyer. Armando loomed over her, his forehead pressed to hers, his hands resting on her shoulders.

  “You make me hungry,” he whispered.

  Gazing up at him, she could see his eyes glowing subtly red through his thick lashes.

  “You make me weak,” he continued. “I lose my resolve when I look at you.”

  Vanora’s purse fell to the ground with a soft thud. She lifted shaking hands to his face. Tilting his head, he pressed his lips against her palm: they were cool and so soft. Feeling the tumult within him, she desired to comfort him.

  Pressing his cheek against her hand, he looked into her eyes. “I shouldn’t be near you, you know. I shouldn’t be. You make it so hard.”

  “I’m sorry,” Vanora said, wincing.

  “No, never, ever say that. Never be sorry for who you are.”

  “Your teeth,” Vanora whispered, mesmerized by her first glimpse of vampire fangs. They were wickedly sharp behind the fullness of his lips, though not nearly as long as she thought they’d be.

  Armando lowered his face, burying it in her gradually unraveling hair. She could feel his mouth on her neck, his lips lightly pressing to her skin. “You should be afraid.”

  “I’m not,” Vanora said, realizing it was true. “You don’t want to bite me.”

  “I want to do this,” Armando said, then kissed her.

  Vanora was overwhelmed with the fervent caress of his lips and tongue. It was if he was devouring her, consumed with need for her. He was so cold, yet she was aflame. His cool hands slid under her dress and she flattened herself against the line of his body. Shuddering, Armando entangled his tongue with hers before slowly drawing away.

  Vanora clung to him, her lips touching his. “Don’t do this again,” she uttered.

  Armando brushed his mouth over hers. “It’s not right. We both know it.”

  “I don’t know anything,” Vanora confessed, tears glimmering in her eyes and a catch in her voice. “You have me so twisted up inside.”