IN DARKNESS WE MUST ABIDE
A Supernatural Serial
Rhiannon Frater
In Darkness we Must Abide
by Rhiannon Frater
Copyright 2013. All Rights Reserved.
Kindle Edition
Cover art and design by Corey Hollins
Cover typography by Ashley Dawn
Interior formatting by Kody Boye
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Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored, or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form, or by any means (electronically, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise) without the proper written permission of the copyright owners, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
This book is a work of fiction. People, places, events and situations are the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living, dead or undead, or historical events, is purely coincidental.
This is a single installment of a serialized novel. At the time of purchase, not all parts may be available.
To my mother, for always believing in me.
Episode 8:
The Fallen King
Nostalgia gripped Vanora as her car wound through the neighborhood where she had spent so many happy times with Rhonda. Her best friend was gone and with her so was Vanora’s tether to the life she had created in Austin. Though her aunt and uncle had offered her a place to stay, she couldn’t risk their lives. They had the luxury of having a home, family, and love. She couldn’t bear the thought of her presence ripping that away.
The darkness that Roman had set free when he’d unchained the moldering coffin he had brought home from Romania had swept into her life with the crushing weight of a tidal wave. She was drowning and wondered if there could ever be any escape. Yet, she knew she wouldn’t stop fighting to break free.
The light pooling at the base of the street lamps illuminated the wet asphalt. The lighted path beckoned her toward the downtown area. She couldn’t leave Austin without one last sweep through its heart. Turning her car onto Congress Avenue, she drove toward the glowing visage of the Texas State Capitol building. The pink granite appeared ivory in the glow of the spotlights. The downtown skyscrapers stood like sentinels along Congress Avenue, their glittering glass facades and windows reflecting the lights of the busy city.
Tears lingered in her eyes, but Vanora refused to let them fall. She didn’t want to hold onto the sad memories, and instead tried to concentrate on the good. As Vanora circumvented the grand building and headed toward the University of Texas, she felt her chest tighten.
Soon after Rhonda had moved to Austin, the two friends had walked all around the capitol and downtown area, giggling. The two friends had hopped onto a bus, rode around the capitol complex, then disembarked on The Drag. Strolling along the line of shops and restaurants while gazing at the University of Texas bordering the other side of the street, they had made grand plans for their intertwined futures. Everything from scheduling classes on the same days to possibly moving to somewhere fabulous like New York or Paris after graduation had been discussed, dreamed about, and plotted.
Of course, real life had revealed those grandiose plans to be nothing more than daydreams. Their friendship had remained as they endured their share of ups and downs, but Vanora had cherished every second. Rhonda had been more than just her best friend. She had been the anchor to a life that wasn’t filled with vampires, death, and fear. Vanora had been able to finally live a life that was free of all the darkness that had nearly drowned her.
Or had she?
As Vanora steered her little sedan along Guadalupe, the university loomed over the strip of street that was dubbed The Drag. She shivered inwardly in spite of her determination to not let her thoughts dwell on the maudlin and horrific. The darkness caught in the swaying boughs of the trees lining the road brought to mind a spider’s web wiggling with terrified bugs caught in its fine silk.
“Okay, get your head out of morbid town,” Vanora chastised herself.
It was to be expected that she’d be unnerved by the events of the last few days, but she had to keep her head together. Yes, there were forces at work that she did not fully understand, but it wouldn’t do her a bit of good to freak out just because the shadows in the trees appeared a little too dark. She had to remain focused and strong. Dealing with her brother was not going to be a difficult task. Roman was very stubborn, a Socoli trait, but she was determined to wear him down. She wasn’t sure where they could go to be safe, but her dreams and Armando’s warnings had convinced her that she had to persuade her brother to flee Houston.
“Oh, Rhonda,” Vanora sighed. All their dreams born in youthful hope were shattered and strewn across the city, tangled in the fabric of her memories.
There was no solace to be found.
Guadalupe Street merged into Lamar Boulevard. It was a route she had taken with Rhonda often in the past. The city did contain fond memories, but it was difficult to unearth them beneath the thick fog of her emotions. Austin was a foreign land to her now. Its familiarity was already weighted down with the past. It wasn’t home anymore and she felt that truth keenly.
As she took a right past the Half-Priced Books where she and Rhonda had spent hours scrounging for novels, her fingers gripped the steering wheel ever tighter. The cold air and humidity formed a mist over the road and fogged up the edges of her windows. The quiet of the night enshrouded her and she flipped on the radio just to escape the silence.
When she at last nudged her car onto the on ramp that would put her on course for Houston, she released a long exhalation. It was a relief to be on the road at last, yet she feared what awaited her at the end of her journey.
As the car left the city lights in its wake, the little vehicle was swallowed into the night.
* * *
Armando was both amused and annoyed by Vanora’s little trip down memory lane as her little sedan slipped through the streets of downtown Austin. Keeping pace with the vampire tracking her was easy enough. The vampire had the presence of someone younger and not nearly as powerful as Armando. Althea’s progeny was so intent on Vanora that he didn’t appear to detect Armando’s presence.
The fact that the vampire was so young was shocking. It indicated that all of Althea’s powerful vampires must have remained behind to battle Aeron and died with her and Parthenia. Though Vanora’s stalker had the aura of a vampire over a hundred years old, he was a mere babe compared to most of the vampires created by the last of the Seven Sisters and her lover. Althea had to have been very desperate to impart her final revenge on one of the youngest of her creations.
Moving swiftly through the night, Armando was a mere shadow flickering along the ground. Infused with the blood of many mortal victims (though he had been careful not to take a life), he was at full power. At each stop light he paused in the gloom surrounding buildings or trees, cloaking himself as the assassin did the same. It was obvious Althea’s man was waiting for Vanora to leave the city limits before he attacked. The closer her little car crept to the outskirts of town, the easier it was for Armando to track him.
Since it was the middle of the night, the traffic was light and soon Vanora’s car was the
lone vehicle on the long stretch of highway. As the pale illumination of the city lights against the overcast sky diminished, Armando prepared himself for the inevitable attack.
Vanora’s car was just past the small town of Manor when Armando sensed a powerful presence at his back. Hurtling himself into a tree, he hunkered among the limbs and hid himself further in the shelter of his power. Below, a shadow shifted against the inky backdrop of the night. After a slight pause, a woman with masses of red hair emerged from the murk and peered up at him.
“You can’t hide from me Armando,” she said in her Scottish brogue, smirking.
“Nelly,” Armando whispered.
Older than Armando, Althea’s favored offspring was a true threat. Armando realized now he had been lured into a trap. The male vampire must be Robert, Nelly’s companion.
With a wild grin of delight, Nelly leaped into the air and kicked the trunk of the tree in which he was perched. There was a loud crack as it splintered apart. Armando threw himself clear of the branches, landing lightly on the highway below.
“Babysitting for Aeron?” Nelly teased, standing with her feet apart.
“Still doing your dead mistresses’ dirty work?” Armando made a point of adjusting the cuffs of his leather jacket and pretending not to be threatened by her, though he continued to watch her through long his lashes.
Nelly’s green eyes flared red. “Your murdering bastard of a creator will die at my hands.”
Clasping his hands before him, Armando settled his amber gaze on her. “We both know that won’t happen.”
Taking a sharp step forward, Nelly glowered at Armando, her power beating against him like dark waves. “Then at least we’ll have the pleasure of killing his little albino whore.”
Rankling under her words, Armando’s tone was sharp and threatening. “Leave now. Abandon your assignment to kill Vanora. I’ll let you live if you go. Go find a new life with your boy toy.”
Nelly scoffed at his comment. “There is no life for us with Aeron ruling the vampires. You and I both know that. I will not yield to you or any of his other offspring.” Nelly’s nostrils flared as she spoke, her fangs visible behind her red lips. “Killing his favorite son will be just the beginning of my vengeance against Aeron.”
Drawing a silver blade from the sheath attached to his forearm and hidden in his sleeve, Armando let out a sorrowful sigh. “Sadly, you will die tonight, so your vengeance will have to be taken up by another.”
Nelly attacked immediately. Faster and stronger, she pummeled him with cruelly placed blows with her fists and heels. As was her style, Nelly was intent on breaking his body to smithereens before administering a killing strike. Nelly liked to hurt more than kill. Armando dodged the worst of her attack, lashing out at her chest and throat. His blade nicked her skin, drawing blood, but the cuts were artificial. He was miserably aware of Vanora’s car sailing deeper into the night with the other vampire close behind.
Cold fingers with the strength of steel gripped his throat and Armando barely had time to slip into a wisp of shadow before they tightened. The redhead was fast, strong, and brutal. Every bone-crushing impact of her strikes sent red lightning flashes of pain through him. He sensed Vanora disappearing deeper into the darkness. Anger filled him as he realized every second Nelly delayed him put Vanora more at risk.
A massive long-haul truck rumbled along the highway with several cars in its wake. Armando darted past them, a mere flicker of darkness, with Nelly close behind. To stay and fight may mean Vanora’s death. Instead he pursued Robert, the other vampire, and Vanora’s car. He sailed through the night, following the road. Nelly pursued, attempting to overtake him, but falling short. Armando was faster in the air. Weaving through the trees, he kept his concentration on the pulse of Vanora’s power that called out to him like a beacon in the night. Her aura still clung to his fingers where he had touched her and he hoped it would not dissipate before he found her.
Nelly crashed into him, sending them both sailing through a billboard looming over the road. Armando twisted about in the air, grappling with the other vampire. Fingers hooked like claws, she lashed out at him, attempting to wrench his heart from his chest. His silver dagger deflected her attacks, slashing deep into her hands and forearms. Her cold blood arced through the air. Though he feared using too much of his power too quickly and burning out, he knew he could not defeat Nelly if he held back. Shifting in and out of misty shadows, he spiraled around her. Reforming just long enough to bury his silver dagger into her, Armando inflicted as much damage as possible. Her long nails raked the air, attempting to catch him. Maybe it was fear, or love, or just sheer desperation, but Armando managed to evade her lethal swipes.
The last of Vanora’s presence faded from his senses just when Nelly managed a stunning blow to his lower torso. Wrenching flesh and muscle from his body, she howled with delight as his blood flowed. Her victory was short lived. Armando had sacrificed a wound in order to deliver a brutal blow. As her claws tore out his side, he punched his silver dagger through her temple and deep into her brain. Armando rode her body to the hard, cold ground below, crashing through the shrubs. Jerking the dagger free, he immediately shoved it back into her body, this time through her heart.
“You will not have her,” he growled.
Nelly stared at him in shock, bloody flecks upon her pale lips. She was already healing, so he had to act swiftly. The dagger would never cut through her neck fast enough. Instead, Armando tangled his fingers in her thick red hair, and burning through more blood power, ripped her head from her body. Tossing it away, he yanked the dagger from her dissolving body and raced after Vanora.
* * *
The darkness of night felt absolute around Vanora’s car as she drove toward Houston in the early morning hours. A steaming cup of coffee from an all-night gas station fogged up the windshield, and she flipped on the defroster.
Shirley Manson sang about being only happy when it rained, her voice pouring out of the car speakers. Vanora tended to listen to Garbage when anxious. Her pale fingers tapped lightly against the steering wheel. Though exhausted, she was determined to make the nearly three-hour trek back home before she lost her nerve and fled back to Austin.
Sipping more coffee, she was glad for the sweet rush of sugar and caffeine.
The headlights caught something large fluttering over the road ahead. It was too large to be an owl. Vanora slammed the Styrofoam cup back into the cup holder and leaned against the steering wheel, scanning the gloomy, overcast sky. Again, she saw a large shape swooping low over the trees.
Braking hard, she pulled the car onto the shoulder of the road, gravel and dirt spewing into the cool night air. Her hand gripping the cross around her neck, she stared into the small area saturated by the light from the car’s headlamps. At the very edge of the light there was something - or someone - standing in the gloom. She could barely discern the outline of the figure against the blackness of the night.
Was it Armando? Or was it HIM? The nightmare man who haunted her and was coming to destroy all she held dear.
“Armando?” she whispered.
The wild thumping of her heart battled with the beating of the drum in the song pouring through her car speakers.
***
Armando sensed the other vampire was closer to the kill. To overcome Nelly he had expended much of his blood power. He cursed his long absence from human blood. Though he had made certain to gorge himself earlier, his body was still recovering from the long years of abstinence. Animal blood had infused him with enough power to live, but not to be at full strength. Robert, Nelly’s companion, was younger, and most likely at full power.
Swooping low over the trees, Armando saw Vanora’s car parked on the side of the road. Before it stood Robert. He was toying with her, scaring her. Like Nelly, Robert liked to play with his food. Obviously, the vampire didn’t realize Nelly had failed in killing Armando.
“Armando?” Vanora’s voice called out from within the c
ar.
The night wind carried it to him as he fumbled with his pocket.
“Armando?” she said louder.
He found her number and pushed the glowing digits.
She answered in a trembling voice. “Armando?”
“Drive,” he ordered. “Don’t stop again. Just drive.”
“Is that you in front of my car?”
Robert’s white face looked upward.
Armando knew he had been heard and spotted.
“No. Now drive!”
Thrusting the phone into his pocket and dragging the dagger from its sheath, Armando surged forward. Robert darted toward the car, but Armando met him, tackling him. Dirt, rocks, and dry grass bloomed into a thick cloud that enshrouded the two vampires and pelted the windshield. The tires spun as Vanora accelerated and jerked the car back onto the road. Robert shoved off the ground with his elbows and feet, propelling both men through the air and past the car. In mid-air Robert managed to break free, smacked his hand into Armando’s chest, and sent him careening onto the road. Sprawling on the cold asphalt, Armando rolled to his feet.
“The woman you love is dead,” Armando hissed through gritted teeth. He knew the power of the words he spoke. Armando knew what they would do if someone spoke the same words to him.
“No!” Robert shouted from where he hovered in the air. “Nelly!”
“I killed her!” Armando continued, the silver blade in his hand.
The vampire’s pale face had dark rivulets running down it when he landed beside Armando. “You fuckin’ bastard.”
“You didn’t have to carry out Althea’s vengeance.”
Red eyes glowing in the darkness, Robert hissed, his long teeth glinting.
“You could have gone off with Nelly and hidden from Aeron’s wrath.”
“There is no hiding from his wrath! You know this!” Robert slumped to his knees. “There is no life for us with Aeron in power.” The fight had gone out of the vampire. There was nothing left for the man and they both knew it. Vengeance wasn’t Robert’s style. It was Nelly’s. And she was gone.
In Darkness We Must Abide (The Fallen King, Episode 8) Page 1
