“You’re doing fine,” Alisha assured her.
“Am I?” Vanora stared at their intertwined hands. “I’m glad you believe in me.”
“Vanora, I need you to pay attention to what I’m about to say.”
Lifting her eyes to meet Alisha’s intense stare, she said, “I’m listening.”
“For years I’ve painted bizarre stuff. Things I didn’t understand. And it made me so crazy. A lot of my paintings were about you and all this damn prophecy stuff. I realize that now. I wish you’d never seen those paintings. I want you to forget them completely and not be afraid of the future Aeron’s mother created.”
“I feel it unraveling. That future she created.”
“Because of you! You took her magic and made it your own. You love Armando and that helps you fight against what she predestined.”
“But, Alisha, I also feel the pull of its power,” Vanora confessed miserably. “I feel the pull of him. Of Aeron.”
“But you’re greater than all that! Vanora, I haven’t trusted you like I should’ve. I regarded you as just my little sister. After Roman died, I felt I should step into Roman’s shoes and take over his role. He always took care of us. But I accept now that I need to let you protect me, too. The one thing that Arianrhod didn’t take into consideration is you. You’re the reason her plans are starting to unravel.”
It was the truth, and Vanora knew it. Arianrhod had greatly underestimated Vanora. People often did. Dan had definitely misread a lot about her.
“Besides, you’re not really my little sister anymore. We’re both the same age now. I died at your age.”
“Which is really weird.” That brought a smile to Vanora’s lips.
“I’m really struggling not to go all older sister on you right now. Order you to stay here until sunset so I can go with you. All that shit. I’ve learned so much tonight, it’s kinda freakin’ me out. Part of what I learned is that I’m stronger than I thought, but I also have my limitations. My sisterly instincts are to take you somewhere safe and hide. But I know that won’t solve anything. So I’m making the conscious choice to stay the fuck out of your way and cheer you on from afar. If you need me, I will come running. I will do what you need of me.”
Flinging her arms around her sister, Vanora squeezed her tight. “I love you so much, Alisha.”
The words coming out strangled and a little hoarse, Alisha said, “I love you.”
Vanora kissed her sister’s cheek before withdrawing from her embrace. “So you’re going to trust me to do the right thing.”
“Because you will. I know it. I feel it. You’ll win because you’re Vanora Socoli. Aeron and his bitch mother never anticipated that.”
* * *
Armando sat on an uncovered sofa, shoulder slumped forward, elbows resting on his knees, listening to the murmur of the sisters’ voices coming from the restroom and the sounds of sex emanating from the office. He tried not to make out the words the sisters were speaking or the acts the incubus was committing with his lover. Instead, he stared at the paisley print of the seat cushion he was perched on. The couch was hideously ugly, threadbare in spots, and not very comfortable. Armando wondered why the demon held onto it.
On another sofa, this one avocado green brocade and upholstered in plastic, Dexios sat in almost the exact same pose as Armando. The werewolf’s dark hair slanted around his lupine face, hiding his features as he studied a phone that had somehow survived the night’s battles.
Seated next to Armando, Alexander was slouched with his head tilted to rest on the back of the couch. He was staring blankly at the ceiling and hadn’t even tried to communicate. Even though Sheila had been Alexander’s voice to the world, Armando could often read Alexander’s expression and general gestures. But tonight, it was as if the other vampire had lost his voice along with his love.
As though sensing his thoughts, Alexander rolled his head to one side to regard Armando. The long, slender fingers of the other man rested briefly on Armando’s shoulder, and he gestured with his head toward the restroom.
“I won’t try to stop her,” Armando replied promptly without analyzing if he was reading the vampire correctly. Somehow, he just knew what Alexander was inferring.
Alexander nodded, confirming his presumption was correct, then returned to staring at the ceiling.
“You couldn’t stop her if you wanted to,” Dexios said, raising his head so his eyes glinted in the light.
“I’m aware of that, too.”
Armando despised his situation. He couldn’t abscond with Vanora and delay the inevitable. Every aspect of his being cried out in rage. It was a part of his very nature to protect those he loved. For centuries, that loyalty had tethered him to Aeron. His betrayal of his master, father, brother, and dearest friend was a bitter thorn through his heart, but he had no regrets. The stolen moments between him and Vanora would sustain him until death parted them. This could be the final hours of his existence, or even worse: the final hours of Vanora’s life. As a vampire, he’d always been aware of her mortality, but hadn’t dwelled on what it meant for their future. He’d never really believed in one for them as a couple. For a few mad moments, here and there, perhaps, but mostly he had lived with the belief he’d eventually lose her to either a normal mortal life or Aeron.
The restroom door clicked open, and the sisters emerged.
Armando’s gaze immediately shifted to Vanora. She’d cleaned off the worst of the grime and blood. Her white-blonde hair was wet, braided, and coiled on top of her head, giving her a surprisingly regal look. Most of her makeup had worn off during the night, and she’d wiped away any streaks of cosmetics. Armando had the impression she was doing her best not to tidy up for Aeron.
The thought brought a smile to his lips.
Vanora walked to Armando and dumped her coat, scarf, and bag on the floor near his feet. Without a word, she curled onto his lap, tucking her face against his neck. She was warm and soft against his chest, and he encompassed her in his embrace. Stroking her back, he relished the sound of her heart beating.
Clad in all black, her golden hair damp and clinging to her cheeks and neck, Alisha looked a bit better, but her coloring was off. She needed to feed.
“This is about as good as it’s going to get,” she said.
“We have less than forty-five minutes until sunrise.” Dexios unfolded his body from the couch. “I offer my blood to the three of you, but only enough so you won’t suffer hunger.”
Alisha gazed at Dexios with what appeared to be concern, then said, “Only if it won’t weaken you.” She was obviously trying to keep a strong demeanor, but her eyes were wet with unshed tears.
“You can drink directly from me, but let’s find a cup or something for them,” Dexios said to Alisha.
Alexander disengaged his slender body from the sofa and fell into step behind the other two. It was an obvious move to give Armando and Vanora some precious time alone. The trio disappeared through a door leading into another storage area.
Lifting a hand to his cheek, Vanora turned Armando’s face toward hers and pressed her lips to his. Perhaps the others had left them to talk, but for the next few delicious minutes, they shared their love through passionate kisses and tender touches. Everything they needed to say had already been said. All that was left now was to relish their love for one another.
“No fucking on that couch,” Greg grunted, startling them a short time later
“We’re not,” Vanora sputtered.
Armando glared at the incubus, nuzzling his lips against Vanora’s soft cheek. The demon’s appearance – though not appreciated at the moment – was much improved. His red hair was slicked back into a tight ponytail and he was wearing a fresh change of clothing. It was the condition of his flesh that was markedly changed. It didn’t look saggy anymore, but robust and rosy. Armando was reminded of a vampire after feeding. He supposed the incubus was just another type of a vampire.
“If it’s so innocent, where’s
his hand?” Greg asked, pointing.
Armando slid his hand out from under Vanora’s sweater, but refused to look guilty. He’d had his palm pressed to the base of her spine and it had taken all his willpower not to let it travel to other places.
“You would ruin our moment,” Vanora complained.
“Usually I wouldn’t mind two sexy things getting it on and giving me a dirty peepshow, but that couch has sentimental value to me. I don’t want you mucking up my sweet memories of a threesome with two nursing home hotties.”
“And on that note,” Vanora sniffed, sliding off Armando’s lap so he could escape the couch, too.
“They were nurses, not patients.” Greg laughed uproariously. “Though I’ve had my share of GILFs.”
“Don’t say it,” Vanora warned.
“Some of those elderly widows...” Greg smacked his lips together. “Dentures out, gumming away...”
Vanora smacked the incubus on the arm. “Ugh! Stop!”
“You can’t deny the hotness of Helen Mirren!”
Armando gathered Vanora’s things and relocated the items to one of the covered couches. The furniture being mementos of sexual escapades shouldn’t have surprised him, but he couldn’t help but feel disgusted.
“You’re so skivvy, Greg,” Vanora groused.
“But I look so good now, don’t ya think?” Greg spun about and threw out his arms. “Highly fuckable! I even added some muscle this time around.”
Vanora rolled her eyes and slid her hands around Armando’s waist to lean into him. “I’ll pass.”
“But seriously, if you two want a quickie, there’s a smaller storage room where-”
“We’re fine,” Armando said testily. He didn’t appreciate the demon interfering with what little time he had left with Vanora.
“You can totally go bang her-” Greg started to point, then faltered.
Armando craned his head to see that Greg was staring at Alexander as he approached the trio. The vampire held a vintage glass embossed with the image of Batman on it.
“That’s a collector’s item. No fucking around with my collectibles,” Greg said heatedly, eliminating all possibility that maybe he was concerned about Alexander and his grief over losing Sheila.
“The vampires need to feed,” Dexios replied, striding into the room with Alisha at his side. “And I’ll only feed her from my veins, not them.”
“Homophobic, eh?” Greg taunted.
“I like her. I don’t know them.” Dexios claimed the glass from Alexander.
“I’ll find you another glass! Don’t use that-”
“No time. Sun is coming soon.” Dexios slashed a wrist, filling the glass with his thick red blood.
“Fuckin’ really? I haven’t even drunk out of those glasses!” Greg set his chubby fingers on his hips and glowered.
“It’s for a good cause, Greg,” Vanora reminded him.
“You bloodsucking assholes always ruin my stuff,” Greg grumbled.
Though Armando appreciated all that Greg had done for them, he wasn’t foolish. The incubus had an agenda, and that was why he was helping them. It was clear that Greg was enthralled with Vanora, but Armando doubted that was enough reason for the demon to assist them. Yet, how could Armando do anything else but accept the shelter offered in this treacherous time? He truly had nowhere else to go. Besides, it may not even matter soon. The possibility that all the vampires would die with Aeron was not forgotten. Armando only hoped that Vanora would somehow survive. She deserved a real life free of the darkness.
“It’s just a Batman glass,” Alisha chided. “Sheesh.”
“I’m a sentimental guy,” Greg protested. “I have attachment to certain things beyond my epic cock and hefty balls.”
“He’s feeling better,” Vanora muttered to Armando.
Armando couldn’t help but smile at her words. Staring into her eyes, he saw only her love for him. Her worries and fears had been set aside for the moment.
Dexios handed the glass to Alexander first. The werewolf’s swift healing powers had nearly closed the slash on his arm before the glass was filled. Dexios pressed his other hand against the wound, staunching the last trickle of blood. Alexander gulped down the contents and licked the blood from his lips. Bowing slightly, he returned the Batman souvenir.
Again, Dexios slashed his wrist and let his blood fill the glass. Alisha hovered at his side, watching with some concern. The werewolf had taken a beating, too, but Armando noted he looked better than everyone else. Dexios and his kind could replenish their strength through food. He’d be even stronger if he’d consumed some human flesh, but Armando suspected such an act would have set Alisha off. Vanora’s sister did seem to have the beginnings of some sort of connection to the wolf. Not that it mattered. Very soon they could all very well be dead.
When Armando took the warm glass of blood from Dexios, he bowed over the offering. “Thank you for this kindness.”
Dexios lowered his head briefly. “It’s given in friendship.”
Still not comfortable with drinking blood in front of Vanora, Armando turned away to rapidly down the contents of the glass. It was hot, thick, and delicious. It had been so long since he’d consumed werewolf blood he’d forgotten how powerfully imbued it was with life-restoring properties. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he started to return the glass to Dexios, but Greg grabbed it.
“It’s a collectible,” he snorted, then stomped away toward the restroom.
Shifting toward Alisha, Dexios said, “I offer from my veins.”
“Okay,” Alisha replied, her voice hesitant.
“But not here.”
Alisha tilted her head to study the werewolf’s obvious discomfort, then said, “That’s fine.”
Together, they left the main room.
Armando caught a pensive look on Vanora’s face. “What is it?”
“She likes him too much,” Vanora said with a sigh.
“Oh?”
“And he loves someone else.” Leaning her head against his chest, she exhaled. “Why is everything so complicated?”
“Not for much longer.”
Vanora gave him a sharp look.
“You’ll vanquish Aeron, and we’ll be free,” Armando said in a rush of words to assuage the look of sudden fear in her eyes.
“Do you really believe that?”
There was no hesitation in his voice when he said, “Yes, I do.”
One way or the other, Vanora would be victorious.
The question was who would remain living in the aftermath of her victory.
* * *
“I don’t feel comfortable feeding you in front of the others,” Dexios explained when they reached the smaller room where boxes of china, collectibles, and bric-a-brac were stored.
Alisha tucked her damp hair behind her ears and gave him a slight nod. “I understand.” For some reason, her stomach was in knots, and it wasn’t just the hunger.
Dexios reached out and shut the door, the click of the latch catching obscenely loud.
Standing with her arms folded over her breasts, Alisha cocked her head to regard him thoughtfully. The werewolf’s slumped shoulders and downcast expression projected his unease. Alisha couldn’t presume to know what was bothering him. Dexios was a new acquaintance, but she did sense the beginnings of a friendship between them. He’d already shed so much blood for them during the night. She was a bit guilt-ridden to take more.
“What’s bothering you?” she dared to ask. “If it’s giving me blood straight from your veins, we can get another glass.”
Raising his head so his dark hair fell back from his face, he said, “It’s not that. It’s the inevitability of the end. I fear it’s upon us and I’m not certain who will be left standing in its aftermath.”
The trepidation he verbalized was a reflection of her worries. Would she survive? Would her sister? Or were they all doomed? “You’re afraid Kallos might die along with the rest of the vampires.”
&nb
sp; Leaning against the wall, Dexios appeared dismayed. Tension flamed across his jaw and neck. “Yes, I do fear the vampire race may be at an end. Kallos and I have been separated for a very long time. I yearn for us to be together as we once were, but now I am faced with the possibility of her being lost forever. That we may never be fully reunited. Though we’ve been able to steal moments together, Aeron’s power has kept us apart in spirit and body.”
Not really certain what he was talking about, Alisha said, “I’m sorry, but I’m not sure I understand. I thought you could see her in his haven.”
“Aeron placed an edict on her that she would not be with anyone intimately. We’ve stolen a kiss on occasion, but it always feels wrong. As though she does it to console me.” Dexios rubbed his face. “I’m tired. I’m sharing too much.”
“No, it’s okay. Really. I think I kinda understand. I had a human boyfriend, and I was hiding so much from him it felt like there was this invisible wall between us. He sensed it, too. He guessed it was other things I was keeping from him, not that I’m a vampire.” The memory of Sin was a difficult one to entertain.
“An invisible wall. Yes, that sounds right. Except in my case I know the name of that wall is Aeron the White and Terrible. Kallos is his slave. A pawn. He’s done everything he can to keep her isolated from the Likos.”
“Don’t give up on hope.” Alisha knew far too well the temptation to give into despair.
“I’m trying not to. I don’t want to see the end of the vampires. I don’t want to see you, Alexander, and Armando die. I’d rather see your race flourish free of the power of Aeron. I just don’t know if I dare hope for it.” Dexios rubbed his nearly healed wrist with his other hand. “I know my race will live on, but that knowledge is not enough to alleviate the dread I feel when I think of delivering your sister to Aeron’s haven.”
“But you have to.”
“Yes, I have to.” Dexios took a gentle hold on her wrist and pulled her close. “To show I trust you, I offer my throat.”
Alisha nervously blushed. “That feels a bit cozy.” Feeding from this throat was somehow much more intimate than from his wrist.
In Darkness We Must Abide: The Complete Third Season Page 26
