Armando’s long fingers intertwined with hers and he guided her through the doorway into the unlit lobby. As they scurried across the glossy concrete floor, their footsteps eerily reverberated. Vanora’s vision adjusted to the dark and she spotted a large chandelier above their heads and the bank of mailboxes nearby. The walls appeared to be covered in artwork that took on the form of a shadowed mural in the gloom. Though it seemed they were alone, the threat of being torn from Armando’s grip menaced her.
“Wait,” Armando whispered. He came to an abrupt stop in the center of the lobby.
Pressing her body against his back, Vanora felt the whisper of a touch against her neck. Twisting about, she saw nothing, yet the impression that the shadows themselves were extending to wrest her away from Armando persevered.
Armando reached into his pocket and inclined his head toward her. “We have visitors.”
The frescos along the walls shifted.
Vanora clung to him, her skin crawling. “The walls...”
Armando yanked his phone from his pocket, turned it on, and held it out before him.
The shadows Vanora had assumed were murals were not part of the lobby at all. Dressed in gossamer gowns with their hair falling over their shoulders, female vampires clung to the walls, staring at the couple with hungry, burning eyes. Something brushed Vanora’s hair from above once more and she glanced up into the lovely, wicked face of a dark-haired vampire hanging upside down from the ceiling near the chandelier. Vanora gasped, ducking away. Armando grabbed her arm, spun her about, and captured her against his chest. He rapidly backed away from the dangling vampire and her mocking laughter echoed through the lobby.
Vanora nestled into his body, realizing they were completely surrounded. There had to be at least twenty vampires sprawled across the ceiling. A white lump stirred on a section of the wall above their heads. It took Vanora a few seconds to realize the lump had silky blond hair and was wearing a white lace dress. The vampire was lying upside down on the wall, her head tucked into her folded arms. As she watched, the girl raised her head and regarded them with a slight smirk upon her pink lips.
“So, I was right,” Lorelei said with great satisfaction. “I told Aeron not to trust you.”
“I’m taking her to him,” Armando lied.
“Really?” The tone was mocking.
Vanora shoved against Armando, feigning trying to free herself. “You said we were escaping together!”
Armando grappled with her, putting on a good show in front of the tiny vampire. “You can inform Aeron I’m bringing Vanora to him now.”
Lorelei giggled. “You can’t lie your way out of this, Armando. We know the truth.”
Vanora stopped struggling, realizing that striving to deceive the vampire was a fruitless endeavor. The silent female vampires adorning the walls watched the couple’s every movement with predatory gazes. Armando and Vanora were going to have to fight their way out the building.
“The truth?” Armando dared to ask.
Vanora had to admit he was an adept liar. He sounded wholly confused, but his talent for deceit wouldn’t save them now.
“The truth that you can’t be trusted. That you’re a liar. That you’ve betrayed Aeron.” Lorelei dislodged from the wall and floated toward them, her dress rippling around her thin legs. “That’s why I’m here with Aeron’s Brides. To stop you from escaping.”
“Aeron’s Brides?” Vanora hated the miniscule inflection of jealousy in her voice.
Lorelei caught it and laughed mockingly. “Aw, Armando. You’re in a love triangle. How dramatic!” Lorelei landed before them and sneered, her eyes glowing scarlet. “How does it feel to know you’re in competition with your own Master?”
Armando didn’t respond, but Vanora detected his raw anger and his hold on her loosened. Raising her head, Vanora saw his eyes had become an alarming shade of red. The threat of violence was impending. Vanora ramped up her magic and her hands vibrated with the intensity of her power.
“Please fight us,” Lorelei urged Armando. “I want you to resist. Give me a reason to hurt you. I want to hurt you.”
The female vampires launched themselves from the walls and ceiling, hovering in midair. Their hair and gowns billowed in a cold, supernatural wind that filled the lobby, causing Vanora to shiver in her winter coat. Lorelei floated away to join the others as they started to rotate around the couple. Around and around they floated like some hideous accelerating carousel, their terrible glassy eyes raking Vanora with hostility. She sensed their evil, their violence, and their hatred. They may have come to claim her for Aeron, but if they were allowed, they’d shred her to bits.
The Brides of Aeron faded into a swirling, pale mist. Armando protectively pushed Vanora behind him and she hid her face against his shoulder to protect her eyes. Vanora’s hair whipped about her, stinging her face. The mocking voices of the Brides taunted them over the roar of the furious wind.
Armando pressed his lips to Vanora’s ear and said over the roar, “I’m going to try to break them apart so we can get past them.”
Before Vanora could protest, Armando lunged into the wall of mist. Razor sharp nails slashed out and ripped into his flesh, hair, and clothing. He fought back, swiping at the Brides, but was then hurled away and landed at Vanora’s feet
“Armando!” Vanora cried out.
Armando ignored the bleeding gashes and clambered to his feet. “They’re trapping us until Aeron arrives! He must be upstairs!”
Terror assailed Vanora. She wasn’t ready to face Aeron and she didn’t want to even consider what the albino vampire might do to the man she loved. They had to flee immediately. Aeron would never want her harmed, so the threat was solely against Armando. If the couple attempted to hurl themselves through the tornado of vampires, the women would rip into him. Vanora’s enemies were counting on using her love against her to keep her trapped. If they thought she wouldn’t fight them, they were very wrong.
Unsure of how to handle her power after what she’d done to Armando’s couch, Vanora tugged off her glove and raised her hand. The white magic flowed through her veins and illuminated the air around her.
“I’m not sure what I’m doing, so you better duck,” Vanora cautioned Armando.
Armando heeded her warning and crouched. Apparently realizing Vanora wasn’t about to acquiesce to the situation, Lorelei erupted out of the cyclonic tunnel. Focusing on the descending vampire, Vanora unleashed her magic. A flash of white light filled the air and with a tremendous roar, the windows in the lobby exploded, the front doors hurtled from their hinges, and the iridescent tornado dissipated in a cacophony of terrified screams.
“Oh my God!” Vanora gasped, shaken by the intensity of her magic.
“You went easy on my couch,” Armando muttered.
Battered, burned, and broken like twigs, the Brides were scattered throughout the ruined lobby. The female vampires clawed their way out of the rubble of mailboxes, chunks of the walls and destroyed furniture. Rising, they faced Vanora as their wounds healed.
Lorelei let out a wail as she lurched to her feet. One arm hung at her side, clearly broken. “You bitch!”
“You have no idea.” Breathing heavily and weakened by the magical outburst, Vanora wasn’t certain how much power was left in her body. Aeron was coming and she had to get out of the building with Armando. Whatever was left within her had to be sufficient.
The Brides launched themselves at Vanora simultaneously. Vanora swept her hands forward. The Brides and Lorelei were caught in the wave of magic, set aflame, and cast through the shattered remains of the windows. Their screams faded into the night sounds of the city.
Wobbly and trembling, Vanora pitched forward, but Armando caught her about the waist.
“I may have overdone it,” Vanora mumbled as her legs gave out beneath her.
Sweeping her up in his arms, Armando dodged about the rubble and out into the night as sirens pealed in the distance.
Perhaps it w
as her imagination, but Vanora thought she heard Aeron screaming her name.
* * *
Alone and swathed in morose thoughts, Aeron traversed the city of Houston to Armando’s haven. Though he’d earlier dispatched Lorelei and the Brides to capture Armando and Vanora, he soon recognized he couldn’t wait idly for their return. Though Aeron trusted the Oracle, he couldn’t completely believe that Armando was a traitor. Aeron’s heart was broken over the possible duplicity of his favorite son and he was compelled to confront him to discover the truth. The mere idea that Armando would turn on him was too horrible and shocking to accept. Aeron had created other vampires, both male and female, but only Armando felt like a true brother and son to him. The years they’d spent together were filled with treasured memories. Aeron loved only a handful of people in his long life and Armando was one of them. The bitter sting of Armando’s duplicity only burrowed further into his heart with each passing moment.
In his plans for the future, Aeron had always imagined Armando and Lorelei at his side. It grieved him to ponder the future without Armando, but he had to at least consider the possibility. All was in jeopardy. According to Siana, Armando’s betrayal was unfurling the prophecy, and Aeron had to protect his legacy and future with Vanora. He would not lose her, too. Centuries of yearning had culminated to this moment in time and he would not be denied any longer.
When Aeron arrived at Armando’s haven, he found Lorelei standing with the Brides amidst the remnants of the destroyed apartment. They’d torn it apart, seeking any hidden resting places. Built-in shelves and cabinets were ripped off the walls, leaving deep gouges, furniture was smashed, and little of the decor remained intact.
“He’s gone,” Lorelei declared, not surprised at Aeron’s arrival. She knew him well.
Looking about at the destruction, Aeron noticed the shattered smartphone. “Did you destroy that?”
Lorelei tilted her head to gaze at the broken object he was pointing to. “No... it was like that when we arrived.”
“Then he was recently here,” Aeron said with certainty. To avoid fulfilling the edict, Armando may have destroyed the phone. Or perhaps it had been Vanora. Another thing to worry about. How could Armando turn on him and not fulfill the edict? “Search the building. Every floor. Find a way into the apartments. Find them!”
As the women departed to scour the building, Lorelei lingered near the open doorway. Her keen eyes watched him thoughtfully.
“What is it?” he snapped.
“Be wary you don’t have mercy on someone who doesn’t deserve it.”
With a growl, Aeron waved her out of his presence.
Lorelei obeyed, but her eyes were narrowed with concern.
Stepping onto the balcony, Aeron raked his gaze over the skyline of Houston. The orange glows reminded him of the bonfires that once dotted old battlefields. This was yet another skirmish in his war to claim his heritage, but for the first time he feared he may lose. How could his mother’s prophecy be upended? It was beyond his comprehension.
With the deft ease of a vampire, Aeron crawled along the outside of the building, listening to the voices within, seeking out even a sliver of Vanora’s presence. It wasn’t until he neared the top floor that he sensed the remnants of her magic. It had been easy to break a window and crawl into the penthouse. If the resident had been human, a natural ward would have kept him out. It was a clear indicator that the penthouse was the haven of a vampire.
Inside, he found priceless artifacts that suited Armando’s taste. Prowling from room to room, he discovered traces of his life with his vampire son, confirming his suspicions. Tears came unexpectedly to his eyes when he saw Armando had kept mementos of their battles, journeys, and lives together.
“Clever. Two havens in one building,” he muttered with appreciation.
In one of the main rooms there was a sketch of Aeron and Armando framed and hung above the fireplace. Aeron barely recalled the artist. It had been someone quite famous that Armando had sponsored.
“How?” Aeron whispered. “How could you betray me?”
Wiping a tear from his cheek, Aeron stared at the sketch, seeking out the truth in the feathery lines. It was evident that he’d not been alone in his deep feelings of brotherly love. They’d trusted and cared for each other through many terrible battles. They’d reveled in victories. Other than Lorelei, Aeron trusted none more than his favored son.
“How?” Aeron barked out again, snatching the sketch off its hook and starting at it incredulously. It had seemed like the wisest choice to assign Armando to protecting and watching over Vanora. The cruel irony of that decision was not lost upon Aeron.
Moving silently and swiftly through the shadows of the immense haven, Aeron sought out his traitorous son and his future queen. With each empty room, his anger swelled until it felt as though it would drown him. It was only when he stepped into an empty bedroom and saw the disheveled bed that he could no longer contain his emotions. Tears stung his eyes and he angrily brushed them away with the back of his hand.
Studying the room, his gaze settled on the destroyed remains of a sofa. Confusion pricked at his mind. The destruction of the furniture was thorough and reminded him of the magic his mother had once wielded. Was this Vanora’s work?
Hope and anger overlapped as he wondered if Armando had perhaps attempted to turn Vanora against Aeron and she’d fought back. Glancing at the bed, the cold rage inside him threatened to swallow him. Had Armando forced himself on Vanora, attempting to claim her as his own?
It was difficult to believe Armando would betray him, but even harder to fathom that the other half of his very soul would turn on him. Aeron had been certain that Vanora would come to him willingly, but she’d proved to be elusive. Maybe it was Armando’s doing and not hers.
Stomping through the empty penthouse, Aeron sought out any clue as to where the couple may have fled. He couldn’t help shake the feeling that he had barely missed them. Years of war had honed his instincts, and he was a predator by nature. His prey was nearby, but where?
The power of the Brides, obstinate and dangerous, filled the building. He sensed the tendrils of their presence slithering through every shadow, seeking out Vanora. Stepping into the foyer, he stilled when he experienced an exultant rush through the bond he shared with the Brides and Lorelei. Looking down at his feet, Aeron sensed the women gathering to strike.
Vanora and Armando were below him.
Ripping the door to the stairwell off its hinges, he plunged into the darkness. He wrapped his hands around the rail and peered down. The stairs snaked around an uninterrupted void. Without hesitation, Aeron pivoted over the handrail and plunged into the blackness. The landings of the many floors flew past him, then he landed lightly on the ground level.
A second later, a thunderous roar shook the building. The door to the lobby was wrenched from its hinges and hurtled against the base of the stairs. A gush of cold air blasted Aeron with debris and he ducked away, covering his face with his arms. A second blast slammed him against the stairs. The cries of his vampires tore at his ears, then silence abruptly followed.
Aeron tossed aside the door blocking his way and plunged through the gaping opening. The air in the lobby was thick with dust. Glass glinted on the floor, the empty windows yawning open to the coldness of the night. The remains of one of his Brides decomposed against a wall. Apparently she’d taken a lethal blow from the shrapnel.
“Vanora,” Aeron called out, the inside of his mouth instantly coated with pulverized plaster. To call out to her was fruitless. She wasn’t here. She’d fled with Armando.
Spitting, he shoved over piles of rubble, uncovering a few more dead vampires disintegrating into fine dust to mingle with the rest of the wreckage.
Movement pulled his attention to the destroyed windows. Lorelei leaped onto the empty frame and stared at him with glowing red eyes. Rage scrunched her face into an ugly facsimile of her usual mien.
“She did this to us!”
/> A surge of pride filled his chest, then was immediately followed by dread. The power Vanora was manifesting was shocking in its strength and devastation. He couldn’t recall his mother ever wielding such impressive magic. What did it mean? Was this yet another sign that the prophecy was unfurling, or was this only proof that Vanora was meant to stand at his side?
“Did you hear me? She did this to us!” Lorelei’s face caught the red and blue glow of the flashing lights of the approaching emergency vehicles. Behind her, the battered, burned, and broken surviving Brides gathered. Eyes reddened with hunger and anger, they awaited his command.
Beyond the vampire women, the first police cars pulled up.
“Feed,” Aeron hissed. “Heal.”
A feral smile tugged up the corners of Lorelei’s lips.
The first responders reached out to the battered Brides, seeking to give them assistance.
Instead, the vampire women fed.
“No survivors,” Aeron said to Lorelei, then he strode into the darkness to seek out Vanora.
* * *
Sheila rushed alongside the roadway, unseen by human eyes. Imbued with fresh blood, her health and abilities were fully restored. Leaping over an intersection, the heels of her boots narrowly missed the power lines. She landed on the far corner and raced along the empty sidewalk. Glancing over her shoulder, she checked on Alexander and was relieved to see he was close behind. Some distance behind him, Alisha’s feet were just striking the ground. Sheila was impressed to see the werewolf land a second later. He’d managed to keep up, which was remarkable. Sheila didn’t like werewolves, but the newcomer appeared devoted to Alisha, or at least their cause.
Cutting through an alleyway, the gravel, broken beer bottles and dead foliage cracked beneath her feet. She needed to be quieter, so she pulled up another layer of magic to shroud herself from the human world. Since they’d escaped the Socoli Mansion grounds, the group had effectively eluded the werewolves that had attacked at the mausoleum and she hoped they were moving fast enough to avoid being tracked. She’d spotted a few vampires on their journey, but they’d appeared to be on their way to another location. Aeron’s purge was ongoing. Already the skyline was dotted with more fires.
In Darkness We Must Abide: The Complete Third Season Page 19
