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

by Rhiannon Frater

  “For a plague doctor.”

  Vanora flushed under his admiration. Directing her attention toward the vampires scattered across the dance floor, she felt like she was gazing into a painting of subtle perfection. The vampires were as unbelievably beautiful and graceful as many of the great predators of the earth. They absolutely took Vanora’s breath away.

  Casting an adoring look at Armando, Vanora boldly took his hand. “How about a dance?”

  Armando didn’t even answer. He just took her in his arms and swung her out onto the dance floor. Sheila had obviously taken over the DJ equipment. The Cure was playing, the maudlin romantic music filling the old stuffy ballroom. Armando expertly drew her through the throng of vampires, dancing with a grace that surprised her. Yet, she felt as though he wasn’t truly dancing with her for his gaze was directed past her.

  Vanora glanced over her shoulder and sighed. “Are you sure there is nothing between you and that woman?”

  “Why would you ask such a thing?” Armando admonished her.

  “Well?” Vanora persisted.

  “Nothing to speak of,” Armando said with a shrug.

  Uneasy with his answer, Vanora dropped her eyes from the gruesome mask. She couldn’t read him at all tonight. It was if he was closed off in every way from her. The gulf between them was so vast she began to wonder if she had imagined all that had transpired between them. Struggling to start a conversation, she floundered through her wildly churning mind.

  “You know when I first saw you in the grocery store, I sensed danger,” Vanora said abruptly in an attempt to start a conversation.

  Armando’s head jerked toward her. “What?”

  Realizing she was sinking into mire she wasn’t sure she could extract herself from, she continued, “When I saw you the first time in the grocery, the word danger went flashing through my mind.”

  Armando’s golden gaze was penetrating. “Really?”

  Vanora nodded, rubbing her lips together nervously. The night had taken a bad turn. She fought against the need to flee. Forcing a lighthearted quotient into her voice, she said, “Oh, I suppose it’s because you are a vampire. I usually get this weird fluttery feeling when vampires are close by. Alisha thinks it’s because vampires are predators.”

  “Yet, you didn’t feel a fluttery feeling around me, but danger?”

  Cursing herself for even saying anything, Vanora nodded miserably.

  Armando held her a little closer, bending his head to hers. The long black beak was eerily close to her face. “And what do you feel now?”

  Vanora lifted her gaze and stared into his amber eyes. The tendrils of her power stirred as she concentrated on casting them out about her.

  Danger!

  She drew her breath in sharply.

  “What is it?” Armando demanded, his grip tightening on her.

  “Let go!” Vanora gasped, her eyes wide.

  “What is it?” Armando persisted.

  Vanora hastily jerked free of his grip. She spun about, looking for Alisha and Roman. To her horror, the room appeared to have transformed around her. The costumes no longer seemed amusing and delightful, but grotesque and mocking. Menacing shadows danced about on the walls, the ceiling, and the floor. Were they all truly cast by the revelers, or were they menacing wraiths? Alisha and Roman were nowhere to be seen. Vanora whirled toward Armando, her long hair falling from her chignon. Her instincts were screaming at her to flee. Gathering up her skirts, she ran from the room.

  She was halfway down the corridor when Armando caught her and spun her about. “Vanora, don’t ever flee from a room full of vampires!”

  “Why not?” She felt as if her skin was crawling with a thousand insects. All she wanted to do was escape. Wrenching free of his grip, she shrank away from him.

  Snatching off his mask and hat, Armando’s handsome face came into view. Rubbing his fingers through his hair anxiously, he said, “Because it excites the predator within us.”

  Vanora gulped and lifted her hand to her neck. Beneath the fancy fake diamond necklace she wore was the chain that held her mother’s cross. Apprehensive, she lightly tugged on it. “Why do I feel danger, Armando? What aren’t you telling me?”

  Armando dared to reach out and brush his fingers over her cheek. The sensation was surprisingly soothing. “I don’t know, Vanora. Perhaps because it’s Halloween. The pagans say it is a time when the veil between the living and dead is very thin and the dead can pass over to visit their loved ones.”

  It was difficult for her to not gaze into his amber eyes. She craved to understand him, to know why she was so inexplicably drawn to him. “Is that why you’re dressed like a plague doctor? Because you’re Death?”

  “No. Because it was the only costume I had in my closet.” Armando flashed his charming smile. “I barely met my deadline and didn’t have time to go out and purchase anything new. I wore it in Venice a decade or so ago. It’s authentic.”

  The tension between them dissolved as the disquiet that had gripped her earlier dissipated. “Armando, why did you keep looking at Carlotta?”

  “Because she’s unpredictable.” Setting his hat and mask on a decorative table, he slightly shrugged. “I’ve kept her away for a reason. I knew she’d either mock Roman or fall for him.”

  “And that makes you…” Vanora lifted her eyebrows.

  “Concerned. He’s my friend.”

  Vanora felt the tight bands of tension around her chest relax. “You’re not in love with her?”

  The startled laughter that erupted out of the vampire sent waves of relief crashing through her.

  “Heavens, no! Never!” Armando shook his head, his curls bouncing. “No. No. Absolutely not.”

  Pressing her hands into the filmy folds of her dress, she sighed. “I just didn’t know what to think.”

  “I understand. She’s a little overwhelming.”

  “I suppose we should go back.” Vanora reached up to adjust her tiara and started up the long length of the hallway toward the doors that opened to the ballroom. She could hear laughter and music emanating from beyond them, but the festivities seemed so far away.

  “Vanora,” Armando said in such a way that her heart sang with hope. “Let’s not go back.”

  Rotating toward him, Vanora observed him with uncertainty. “Why?”

  Leaning against the door to the library, Armando regarded her with a mesmerizing stare. The golden fires in his eyes burned into her soul. “Because the thought of you being afraid of me is something I can’t endure. I want to be certain that all is well between us.”

  “Armando, I don’t know what is between us.”

  Lowering his eyes, he sighed. “I came to Houston with a very set purpose. I knew what I needed to do and why. I was focused. I found your brother and his friendship has meant the world to me. He has reminded me of so much of that which I had forgotten. What it’s like to have a brother. To have a family. To be part of something good. And lately, when I look at you…”

  Vanora felt dizzy from lack of air. She was so afraid he’d stop talking, she was holding her breath to keep herself from ruining the moment with a stupid comment. He reduced her to so many jumbled emotions. Releasing a pent up breath, she dared to ask, “When you look at me…what?”

  “Let’s speak in private, Vanora.”

  There was an audible click as the library door opened. Slipping inside, Armando took hold of her hand and drew her after him. The room was filled with the night. Outside the windows, a waning moon cast a pale light over the lawn and mausoleum. Closing the door, Armando locked it. He left the lights off, leaving them in darkness.

  Vanora felt close to hyperventilating.

  Turning about, Armando drew close to her again. She could see the lines of his face faintly illuminated by the moonlight. “Vanora, you render all that came before meaningless.”

  “I don’t understand.” She truly didn’t. It was as if she was missing a vital piece of a puzzle and unable to see the full pic
ture his words were painting.

  “I came here tonight with the intention of telling you that we are merely friends. I wore the mask because I believed it would be easier.”

  “And?”

  Armando’s fingers caught her face and he rested his forehead against hers. “Vanora, I can’t say those words to you because they’re a lie.”

  “I’m not for you. You’re not for me.” Vanora struggled with the words, not fully believing them, yet feeling instinctively that they were true. The thought was too painful to ponder. She knew what her heart felt for Armando, sixth sense be damned.

  “I don’t care,” Armando said, his voice ragged. “I’ve spent the last few months with those words as my mantra and one look of fear on your face…you fearing me…reduced me to splinters.”

  It was hard to think, hard to process, and even harder to believe what she was hearing, yet she could sense the truth in his words. “Armando, what did you think your purpose was when you came to Houston?”

  “To be alone.” Armando’s golden eyes burned in the darkness. It was eerie, yet lovely.

  “And now?”

  “I can’t be alone knowing you exist,” Armando whispered.

  Pressing her lips to his forehead, Vanora slid her hands into his hair. Her power surged through her fingertips, but there was no resistance from Armando. He clutched her wrists and pressed her fingers against his scalp. It was if a great emptiness opened beneath her and swallowed her whole. But instead of being subsumed, her power spread through the darkness obliterating it until all that was left was her burning light.

  “You are my moon, my light. Do you see?”

  Vanora kissed his lips tenderly. “Yes. I see.”

  With a soft moan in his voice, Armando whispered, “Then we’re both truly lost.”

  “I don’t care,” Vanora answered, and meant it. All that existed for her at the moment was the vampire and her love for him. She didn’t know how it would change her future, but she couldn’t make herself be concerned about the implications of their actions. All her fears were dispelled in the fervor of the kisses he adorned her lips

  Swinging her about, Armando pressed her to the door. The warmth of her mouth and breath heated his lips. The vampire’s kisses deepened until he left her gasping. She was mesmerized by the softness of his hair wrapped around her fingers, the wetness of his tongue as he licked her neck before lightly nipping it, the hardness of his chest against her breasts, and the way he breathed her name as he kissed her.

  Caressing his neck, she lightly tugged on his bottom lip with her teeth before pushing him back. “Wait…”

  “I’m sorry,” he muttered, instantly releasing her.

  “No, don’t be.”

  Vanora dragged the chain holding her cross over her head before tugging off the silver bracelet he had given her that was concealed under the cuff of her sleeve. Setting the silver jewelry and wand on the nearest bookshelf, she reached up to take off her tiara. Armando’s deft fingers touched it first and he carefully extracted it from her hair before placing it aside.

  In silence, Vanora’s quivering fingers pulled at the fastenings of the long, dour coat Armando wore. Pressing kisses to her face, Armando let her do as she pleased while loosening the remains of her ornate hairstyle. Beneath his coat was his regular t-shirt and jeans. Tossing the coat over the back of the nearest chair, she wrapped her arms around his chest.

  “Not impressed with my costume?” he teased.

  “Impressed with mine?”

  Nipping her ear, he murmured, “More impressed with your beauty than the dress.”

  Vanora had always imagined this moment as rather hazy, romantic, and dreamlike, but she was acutely aware of the sound of the zipper of her dress being drawn downward, the coolness of his fingers, and the way the air from the vent overheard brushed over her spine. Armando allowed her dress to catch on the curve of her shoulders, obviously giving her a choice.

  The sound of her breathing filled her ears. She was conscious of the fact that she alone in the room actually had breath or a heartbeat. Armando drew his fingertips across her jawline and lips with the softest of touches. Frozen by abrupt indecision, Vanora tucked her face against his neck, breathing in the scent of his skin and hair. The enormity of the choice she faced struck her despite her desire to fling caution to the wind. Nothing would ever be the same between them again.

  Armando merely held her, gently swaying. Everything within her cried out for release in his arms. There was no doubt in her mind anymore how they felt about each other. The world of humans was far removed when they were alone. Nothing else mattered but that they were together.

  Vanora shrugged the dress off her shoulders, letting it pool at her feet. Sliding her hands under his shirt, she allowed herself the luxury of touching his bare skin. Lifting her head, she invited his kisses once again.

  The feverish passion between them reignited now that she had made her decision. It was a matter of seconds before the rest of their clothes were discarded. Vanora trembled, feeling vulnerable to his touch. She was glad for the shadows filling the room. It made it easier to be naked in his presence.

  “You can touch me,” he said in a husky voice. “Don’t be afraid.”

  Vanora tried not to let her nervousness escape her in an awkward giggle. Instead, she kissed him and dared to glide her hands slowly down his back, feeling his muscles shifting beneath her palms.

  The coolness of his hand gliding over her breasts and waist to cup her ass made her a little dizzy. The soft hair on his chest tickled her nipples when he tightened his hold on her. Lifting her easily, Armando carried her to the sofa. Arms and legs locked around him, Vanora could feel how hard he was when his cock brushed her thigh. Settling onto the sofa so that Vanora was straddling him, Armando dragged the rest of her tresses out of the hairdo it had taken her hours to construct. In the pale light of the moon, her long hair was very white against his skin.

  “You’re so beautiful in the night,” Armando whispered, then dipped his head to lavish her breasts with tantalizing licks of his damp tongue.

  Resting her cheek against his soft curls, Vanora’s hair fell over him like a veil.

  “Don’t be afraid, Vanora.” Armando seized her hands and guided her palms over his chest down to his waist.

  Growing bolder, she dared to explore his body with her fingertips. “Like this?”

  With a playful growl, he tossed her onto the sofa and crawled over her, kissing her from her ankles on up. Sprawled together on the wide cushions, Armando’s mouth and hands slid over her skin, building the sweet torment within her until she bit her bottom lip to keep from crying out. She felt reckless, needing him so much it hurt. His low laugh of delight and devouring kiss when she finally dared to touch his cock only frustrated her more. Shifting her hips, she rubbed the head against her wetness, but he resisted.

  “At last, you touch me where I want you to,” he whispered.

  “Don’t tease,” she grumbled.

  “But it’s so much fun,” he said against her lips, before finally allowing their bodies to join.

  Clasping her arms around his shoulders, Vanora clung to him, trembling as he gradually filled her. Any discomfort, pain, or awkwardness was swept away by the exquisite act of finally being with the man she knew she loved with every aspect of her soul.

  42

  Alisha laughed as Angel caught her around the waist and twirled her about to Bauhaus’ “Bela Lugosi is Dead.” At some point during the night, Sheila had firmly taken over the DJing duties and the music had definitely taken a hard swerve into more macabre music. A long swath of glitter along Angel’s arm showed exactly where he had held her. She’d be washing glitter out of everything for months to come. Her arms, hair, and makeup sparkled with the stuff, but she had wanted to be a proper Tinkerbelle.

  Angel was a somewhat short, stockier version of Michael Jackson, but he had all the right dance moves. Begging for a break to grab a refreshment, Alisha scooted off
the dance floor and served herself some blood-laced punch. She’d been dancing for quite some time but didn’t even feel winded, but she was a bit hungry.

  Looking about the ballroom, she frowned when she realized she had lost track of both her brother and sister. Clutching her crystal goblet that had black spider webs painted across its surface, she wandered around the edges of the party. She finally spotted Roman and Carlotta through the doors that opened to the garden. It had been a very long time since Alisha had seen Roman so animated. He was obviously enthralled with the beautiful brunette.

  “One down,” she murmured.

  Ducking around the big speakers, she sidled up to Sheila. Shifting one side of her headset off one ear, Sheila leaned toward Alisha. “What’s up?”

  “Have you seen Vanora?”

  “Armando and she were over there about an hour ago, then disappeared. Maybe she took me up on my advice,” Sheila answered, winking.

  Alisha set her hands on her hips. “Great. Now I have to be the interfering sister.”

  “Let it go,” Sheila said, wagging a finger. “We’ve all been there. The hot irresistible guy that we should never fuck around with, but absolutely should fuck!”

  Alexander ducked around the speaker to hand Sheila a drink.

  “Alexander, have any clue where my sister is?”

  His sly wink told Alisha all she needed to know.

  “Dammit.”

  Alisha deftly avoided the larger throngs of vampires, discarded her glass, and headed into the long hallway. A quick study of the hall told the story. Armando’s hat and mask were set on a table near the door to the library. Clenching her fists, she stormed toward the door. Most likely they were just talking, but she wasn’t taking any chances. Vanora was so young and innocent. There was no way in hell she should be with a vampire.

  Alisha was almost to the door when the bittersweet memory of Sin filled her mind. Alisha hesitated, staring at the door she just knew her sister was behind. She felt her sister’s power, her love, and her joy seeping through their sisterly bond. The sensation felt so intrusive, Alisha took several steps back.