Vampire in the Night: In Darkness We Must Abide, #1

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Vampire in the Night: In Darkness We Must Abide, #1 Page 4

by Rhiannon Frater


  “Why is he coming after us?” Vanora asked Alisha once they were sure the house was secure. “Why not the neighbors?”

  “According to several books I read when I was a teenager, the vampire always goes after family members first. I’m not sure why, but supposedly they do,” Alisha answered as she hooked a gold chain onto the doorknobs of her French doors. A large cross hung from the golden loop.

  Vanora finished tying several roses to the bedposts and admired her work. “I put these here to protect us better. Are you sure roses work?”

  “They should. It says so in Bram Stoker’s Dracula. Plus, we have our crosses. You are wearing the one Mama gave you?”

  Vanora fished it out of her shirt and held it up.

  Alisha touched the cross her mother had given her that matched the one her little sister wore and smiled. “See. We’re safe.”

  “Maybe we should have gone somewhere else. Like a motel.”

  “I thought of that, but I have a horrible feeling it would find us wherever we went. I think we are safer defending ourselves here.” Alisha pulled back the curtain and peered out at the darkening sky. The sun was low on the horizon, only a few streaks of pink and gold still visible.

  “What about Roman?” Vanora asked worriedly.

  “I told you he left a message on the answering machine and that he won’t be home probably until tomorrow morning.”

  “What about Miss Robbins?” Vanora’s eyes were wide as she worried about the fate of their housekeeper.

  “He goes after family members, remember? Besides, I already told her to go home.”

  “What if Roman comes home when it’s still dark?”

  Alisha took a deep breath and tried to have patience with her sister. “He always wears his cross, Snow Pea. He’ll be safe,” she said hopefully.

  Vanora granted her a dubious look.

  Alisha wished her brother would just listen to her, but he clearly thought she was overreacting. Approaching her bed, she opened the bag she’d laid on it earlier. Vanora watched her with great interest as Alisha removed a stake and a hammer and placed them on her nightstand.

  Vanora’s purple eyes were so enlarged with fear, Alisha thought they might pop out at any moment.

  “Blink! Please! You look like a zombie!”

  Vanora fluttered her eyelids and took a deep breath.

  “Let’s find something to eat, Snow Pea. Come on.”

  They went down to the kitchen and made a few sandwiches, all the while keeping a sharp eye out the windows. Grabbing a bag of chips and some sodas, they ran back up the stairs and locked themselves into Alisha’s bedroom.

  Alisha moved to the window once more and gazed up at the half moon and glistening stars. Her gaze swept over the lawn below and a chill pierced through her body. Something was watching her. She quickly closed the curtains and turned away, yet she still felt the hungry, penetrative gaze of the creature who longed for her blood.

  Vanora watched her from where she sat on the bed while munching on a sandwich. Seeing her older sister’s expression, she asked worriedly, “Is it out there?”

  It’s out there and determined to destroy us! There is no hope! Alisha thought despondently. A pall of despair filled her, but she didn’t want to frighten her little sister.

  Instead, she said, “No, just looking at the sky.” Picking up the remote control, she clicked on the television. She settled onto the bed next to her sister, too sick with fear to eat any of the sandwiches or chips.

  “I’m afraid,” Vanora whispered, pulling the covers up around her waist. She dug into the bag of chips and stuffed several into her mouth. “Are you?”

  “I’d be an idiot not to be,” Alisha said with a weak laugh. “But we’re safe. You have to remember that. As long as we are wearing these crosses, we are safe.”

  Vanora touched her own cross gently with her small fingers. “I believe you, Alisha.”

  “God will take care of us. I promise. Now, let’s pretend that horrible thing doesn’t exist and watch a show.” Snuggling up to her sister, she tried to immerse herself in the dealings of the Charmed sisters in the newest episode, but her gaze kept sliding to the covered balcony doors.

  * * *

  Roman’s Mercedes pulled into his estate well after midnight. It had been a long, strenuous day and he had barely caught a flight home. Now all he wanted to do was call his girlfriend Norma before falling into bed for a well-deserved rest. If he felt this awful tomorrow, he would not be up to taking Vanora to Astroworld like he’d promised.

  Roman rubbed his eyes blearily and tugged his tie loose. Unbuttoning his collar, he sighed as he caught sight of the well-lit house. It appeared that every light was on. Alisha and her ghost stories. Annoyance pricked at him, but then it was drowned away when he realized that even though all the windows were illuminated, hardly any light streamed out the windows to brighten the lawn. In fact, his headlights barely sliced through the night. It was as if he was driving through a dark mist that obscured his surroundings.

  Alisha is getting to you. Careful, Roman, he warned himself. His sleek Mercedes slowed to a stop before the front entrance of the great house. Gathering his briefcase and overcoat, he pushed the car door open. The gravel crunched beneath his feet as he exited the car. He activated the alarm and shoved his keys into his pocket.

  A soft, menacing chuckle slithered through the night.

  He whirled about but saw no one. It was difficult to see through the intense darkness. Roman glanced toward Alisha’s bedroom window and saw that the curtains were tightly drawn.

  “She’s got you hearing ghosts now,” Roman whispered under his breath. Pushing away his growing sense of unease, he walked briskly toward the front door. It was so eerily silent, his breathing seemed abnormally loud

  “Good evening, my dear son,” a low voice rasped out of the night.

  Roman whipped about, but again, no one was to be seen. The night seemed to gather itself into a great wave and crashed down upon him. Utter darkness engulfed and disoriented him, and he abruptly felt distinctly alone, as though the world beyond the dark had ceased to exist.

  Except for some thing lurking in the shadows, calling his name in a hoarse whisper.

  It’s nothing. Alisha just has me buying into her insanity. I’m overworked and a house light went out temporarily blinding me. I don’t hear someone calling my name.

  “But you are,” the voice cackled.

  “Who’s there?” Roman demanded in his harshest tone. Someone was out here. Perhaps it was Alisha playing a prank on him. He knew the thought was ridiculous, but he had no other explanation. “Alisha? Alisha, is that you? This isn’t funny?”

  “No, my son. It is I. The one you freed,” the voice answered.

  Roman’s night vision slowly returned, and he backed swiftly toward the front doors. “Whoever you are, you need to leave immediately before I call the police!” he called out, determined that everything was normal. Perhaps a homeless person had wandered onto the property. “This is private property. You must leave immediately” He stumbled, unsure of his footing, blinded by absolute gloom once more.

  “You brought me here. This is my home now, isn’t it, my dear son?” the disembodied voice continued, growing stronger, clearer, more masculine. “When you entered the tomb and I heard your voice through my sleep, I knew you would be the one to free me from my prison.”

  It was then that Roman realized the voice was speaking Romanian. He froze in mid-step, unable to move, icy waves trailing up his spine and through his muddled mind.

  “Who are you?” Roman managed to rasp.

  “Your new master,” was the hypnotic response. “Your sisters are willful women. They will not let me in. They have guarded themselves well. I tried calling them, but some strange magic in a box is too loud for them to hear me call.”

  “This can’t be!” Roman plunged into the night, flailing to find his way through the murk. He bounced off a tall planter and realized he was very close t
o the front door.

  “Yes, come close, my son,” the compelling voice whispered.

  Roman banished his growing fear, gathered up all his strength, and darted for the front door. Relief filled him when his hand closed over the doorknob and he jammed the key into the lock.

  “I’m going to call the police!” he shouted.

  The knob was turning in his grip when he felt something grasp his collar and take hold of him from above. Before he could react, his feet lifted off the ground. Craning his head, he saw a hideous emaciated and deformed creature perched on the wall like a spider on the stone archway over the front door.

  Roman’s breath left him as the creature’s glowing eyes caught him in their power. The thing cackled with glee, opening its deformed mouth, revealing long, glistening fangs.

  Roman’s briefcase fell from his hand and crashed to the ground, his overcoat settling over it with a soft thump.

  * * *

  Alisha awoke abruptly. The television was still on with some asinine infomercial yakking away. Vanora was snuggled into her side, her small fingers clutching her cross.

  Alisha could have sworn she heard someone call out to her. It had been a scream of agony and fear. Her long fingers searched for the cross about her neck and clasped it tightly. Snatching up the remote, she clicked off the television. The house was silent and calm, the only sound coming from the branch scraping against her window.

  “I have to get that damned tree trimmed,” she muttered.

  Glancing at the clock, she saw it was well after midnight. Maybe Roman had come home early and he had been calling at her door. Carefully she slipped out of bed and picked up the telephone. She dialed the extension in his study, but he didn’t answer. She then phoned his bedroom. Still, there was no response.

  “I must have been dreaming,” she decided.

  Alisha was just about to crawl back into bed when there was a sharp rapping at her balcony doors. Alisha froze in fear, her breath catching in her throat.

  “Who is it?”

  The tapping continued.

  A sudden fierce anger seized her and Alisha rushed to the curtains and whipped them back. An old man stood beyond the French doors in tattered clothes, a small smile on his thin lips. Fresh splotches of blood stained his grimy coat. Her eyes widened in disbelief as the old man grinned at her. He said something in a foreign language that she didn’t understand.

  “What have you done?” she cried out.

  The vampire smiled charmingly and laid one hand on the window.

  Alisha distinctly felt a hand touch her breast. She jerked back from the invisible grasp.

  The vampire’s eyes glowed like coals and he lowered his thick brows over them. Staring at her intently, his expression hungry and full of desire, she felt his mind touch hers.

  You’re next. I shall be your Master and you shall be my Bride.

  Alisha could not move for a long moment and when she did, it was with languorous movements. She held out her cross and felt it grow warm in her grasp. The old vampire grimaced and shrank from the window and vanished into the night.

  Alisha shut the curtains, her body and mind feeling numbed. She rushed to the bed stand and rested her hand the telephone. Gazing at her still sleeping sister with tears glistening in her eyes, Alisha dialed with trembling fingers.

  After several rings, a voice said, “911. State the nature of your emergency.”

  “My brother,” Alisha gasped.

  “Excuse me, ma’am, could you please speak up?”

  “My brother! Please send someone.”

  “What has happened to your brother, ma’am?”

  “I think-I think-” Alisha choked, large sparkling tears decorating her eyelashes. The words wouldn’t come out of her strangled throat.

  “What happened to him, ma’am?” the voice on the other end asked.

  “There’s an intruder in the house. My brother...my brother! Roman...oh God, Roman!” Covering her mouth, horror filling her, Alisha collapsed to her knees, the telephone receiver pressed to her ear.

  “Ma’am? Ma’am?”

  “I think my brother Roman is dead.”

  Part II

  Present Day

  …you must go home, Vanora…

  Armando’s words haunted her as she packed her bags. Though she didn’t want to admit it to herself, she knew she would never return to her small apartment in South Austin. Her time here was at a close and all she had gained in this small city would now fade to memory.

  Tucking a long strand of white-blond hair behind her ear, she glanced at her cellphone. Armando had left a number for her to call once she made her decision. Biting her full bottom lip, she tried to ignore the fluttering inside her stomach. She could still feel the touch of his hand on her cheek and the cool power of his presence. It made her feel both vulnerable and safe.

  Settling onto the end of her bed, she picked up the phone and stared at her reflection in the black glass. Armando had called her beautiful. He didn’t find her ghostly white skin and hair unsightly and thought the lavender shade of her eyes was enchanting. Maybe it was the flush he had brought to her face, but for once Vanora could see her rare beauty.

  Wiping a tear away, she activated the screen and quickly punched in the numbers she had memorized. The same number she had pretended to ignore.

  “Vanora,” Armando’s voice breathed, picking up after just the first ring.

  “You’re right. I can’t hide,” she said, her voice tremulous.

  “So you’re coming home…” Armando said. He sounded both pleased and sorrowful.

  “Yes.”

  “Then I will see you again soon.”

  Her heart beat a little faster as she licked her lips. “Yes.”

  “Then I am pleased,” he said and ended the call.

  Clutching the phone to her breasts, Vanora took a deep breath before slowly exhaling it. Tears glittering in her eyes, her thoughts drifted to her family and the terrible fate that had befallen them.

  7

  Ten Years Earlier

  2001

  The police were disturbed by the atrocious death of Roman Socoli but determined it was not a murder. The deep tears in his neck and the claw marks on his body were indicative of an animal attack. One of the officers suggested a rabid coyote had wandered into the city limits. Nicolau Socoli, Alisha and Vanora’s uncle, convinced the police not to release any information on Roman’s death due to Alisha’s state of mind.

  Alisha was inconsolable and adamant that Roman’s burial should immediate. Her uncle protested and the funeral home balked at the request. Furious, Alisha began making calls to Roman’s highly placed friends and soon the way was cleared for his burial at the family estate, citing cultural and religious reasons Alisha concocted. It was the only time she had ever used the family’s clout, and would not allow anyone to tell her no.

  The funeral home was distressed by the insistence that Roman not be embalmed, nor his looks repaired. Alisha instructed them to clean up the body, place it in a coffin, and seal it with chains. Nicolau Socoli overhead this request and later instructed the funeral home to disregard the order for the chains.

  * * *

  The small group stood outside the mausoleum, the late afternoon sun dipping toward its resting place. Only six people were gathered around the mausoleum for the quick funeral. Alisha stood next to her younger sister, holding a black parasol over their heads. Both were dressed in nondescript black dresses that fell to their ankles and wore thick veils of black lace.

  Uncle Nicolau and his wife, Crystal, stood next to them in funeral black. Their uncle remained stoic, though his gray eyes were filled with tears. He looked like an older version of Roman and his crestfallen expression spoke of the close relationship he’d had with his nephew. His wife stood next to him, her hand clutching his, the contrast between his pale skin and her dark skin vivid in the waning light. Weeping softly, Norma, Roman’s longtime girlfriend, sat on a lawn chair, trembling with emotion
while her father leaned over and attempted to comfort her.

  The priest’s words were faint and distant to Alisha’s ears. Eyes fastened on the rose bouquet resting in a stone vase on the side of the small building, she lamented internally that someone had removed it from the handle where she had left it. It had probably been the gardener. Anger welled up within her. Because of one simple act, her beloved brother was dead.

  Vanora whimpered softly and Alisha held her closer.

  Alisha gazed upon the enormous coffin with fear. Her request for it to be chained had obviously been ignored. Everyone considered her to be hysterical with grief. She supposed she couldn’t judge them for thinking her story overwrought. They didn’t know what evil existed in the night as she did. It was utterly hopeless. It was if fate was determined to destroy her. Gazing up at the sky, she realized that night would soon be upon them and that meant...

  Alisha watched through tear-filled eyes as the final rites were finished and the coffin her dear brother lay within was lowered into the mausoleum by employees of the funeral home. Uncle Nicolau moved to help, a tear finally escaping to trail down his cheek.

  Lips trembling, she fought against the desire to follow the men into the mausoleum, find that horrible creature’s coffin and pound a stake straight through its murderous heart. But then, wouldn’t she have to strike down Roman also?

  Weeping, Alisha lowered her head. What was she to do? How was she to fight the evil that was consuming their lives?

  The sky darkened as the sun began to slip beneath the horizon.

  * * *

  Dinner was a quiet affair. Alisha hardly spoke and her aunt and uncle kept trying to console Vanora, who had not yet stopped crying since Roman’s body had been discovered by the police unit responding to the 911 call. Alisha sat staring at her plate, unable to bring herself to eat. She couldn’t concentrate on the conversation for all she could hear replaying in her mind over and over again was the vampire’s promise to make her his.

 

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