“Any more signs of Neil?” her assistant manager, Stuart, asked when they were finally ready to go home that evening.
“Not since this morning,” Rhonda answered with a shrug.
“I know he’s a little off, but I don’t think he’ll try anything. You’re probably worrying for nothing,” Stuart said, obviously trying to be reassuring.
Instead, Rhonda thought, he was coming across as a bit condescending. She was so tired of people acting like she was overreacting. Though she had downplayed her interaction with Neil when telling Vanora about the incident, Neil had terrified her. The glower in his eyes and the way he had tried to physically intimidate her were behaviors that had promised violence.
Though she never saw Neil, she felt like he was everywhere. She hated that feeling. It pissed her off that she felt so weak and afraid. Deep, intense feelings of paranoia enfolded her and clouded her mind. She just wanted it all to end, but had no idea how to make that happen. Maybe Neil would find another job and just forget about her firing him. Or maybe he’d get mad at someone else and accuse them of ruining his life.
“I checked the parking lot. No one is out there,” the female security guard informed Rhonda when she arrived at the front doors.
“See? Nothing to worry about,” Stuart said, then hurried out to the nearby bus stop.
The low-hanging winter clouds obliterated the moon and stars, making the sky feel heavy and foreboding. Rhonda scanned the parking lot, wishing she could actually park closer to the front of the store. It was the policy of the company that the employees had to leave their cars at the rear of the lot.
Terry gave her a slight smile. “I’d walk you to your car, but I can’t leave the store, since I’m on my own again. But I’ll keep an eye on you and watch out for Neil.”
“Thanks, Terry.” Rhonda patted the shorter woman’s shoulder. “I appreciate it.”
Terry pushed the door open for her and Rhonda hurried out into the darkness. Scanning all about her, she strolled purposefully toward her car. She slipped one hand into her purse and wrapped it around her can of pepper spray, deftly flicking off the safety tab. Continuously squeezing the button on her car remote, she waited to hear the reassuring beep. If Neil came at her, her plan was to spray him, then run for the car.
All around her was bare asphalt decorated with faded yellow lines, vaguely outlining parking slots. Only a few cars were at the far end of the lot. One was her own, the others belonged to Terry and the store’s custodial staff. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw Terry watching her from the front door. The guard gave her a short wave, urging her on.
Rhonda’s red Mustang was parked directly under a light post, the yellow light streaming through the light winter mist to illuminate the vehicle. Just a few more feet and she would be safely within her car. Her tawny curls hung limply around her pale face in the cold damp stillness of the night. It reminded her of the quiet before a storm.
Just a few more feet...
Again Rhonda scanned the parking lot for any sign of life and saw absolutely no one. It was as if the world was empty of people and she alone existed. This darkened world was filled with the sounds of her heels clicking, her heavy breathing, and the pounding of her heart. Why was it taking so long to reach her car?
“Excuse me,” a voice said from behind her.
Rhonda whirled about in surprise. Standing not two feet from her was a very tiny, slim teenage girl with large blue eyes and blond hair. Standing demurely in a white sweater and matching jeans, her small feet tucked into fashionable boots, the girl smiled brightly. Rhonda could not help but be alarmed by her sudden appearance. How had this girl seemingly appeared out of nowhere?
“Excuse me, please. May I ask a question?” the girl said again. There was a slight hint of an accent, and each word was pronounced with purposeful clarity.
“Yes, what do you need?” Rhonda asked suspiciously, her finger already on the pepper spray trigger. Maybe the girl had come from the nearby bus stop, but it seemed strange that someone so young was out on her own so late in the evening.
“I just wanted to know when the store will reopen,” the girl answered, her smile never wavering.
There was something about her eyes that Rhonda didn’t like. There was a certain slyness, a lack of any of the innocence her appearance implied. “We open at nine and close at nine in the evening.”
“I guess that means you’re getting out late then,” the girl said, lifting one eyebrow.
“If you’ll excuse me, I have to get home,” Rhonda said shortly. “And so should you. It’s not safe out here.” Purposefully, she turned about, dismissing the strange girl.
“Oh, I know it’s not.”
A gush of wind blew Rhonda’s hair into disarray and sent pieces of litter skittering on ahead of her. She whirled about. The girl was gone. A quick look at the front of the store revealed that Terry was no longer watching.
That did it.
Rhonda ran to her car and unlocked it. As soon as she wrenched the door open, she jumped inside, tossing her purse onto the passenger seat. The headlights snapped on as the doors locked and the engine roared to life. Rhonda sped out of the parking lot at top speed, goose bumps decorating her flesh.
“What the fuck just happened?” she whispered under her breath.
It took all her willpower not to run every red light on the way home. It wasn’t until she turned into the parking lot of her apartment complex that she started to nervously giggle. She was so frazzled over the situation with Neil and the upcoming inventory that she’d been afraid of a teenage girl. Parking, she leaned her forehead against the steering wheel. She needed to get her head together and stop letting her paranoia rule her life.
Sitting up, she scrutinized the row of cars parked beneath the shadows of the pecan trees. Nothing stirred except the branches high overhead. Rhonda tugged her purse onto her shoulder, unlocked the car, and stepped out. Wrapping her hand around the pepper spray tucked inside her purse, she started her walk home.
The lamps dotting the parking lot and courtyard gave off a warm glow. It was after ten o’clock at night, and most of the apartment building's windows were dark. Only a few glowed blue as some of her neighbors watched the evening news or their favorite shows.
Rhonda briskly strode across the courtyard, keeping to the well-lit areas. Her shoulders sagged with relief as the stairs to her apartment came into view. Only a few more steps and she’d be safely inside. Letting go of the pepper spray, she switched her keys from her left hand to the right. Bolting up the stairs, her footsteps echoed through the night.
And continued to do so after she paused on the stoop to unlock the door.
Spinning about, she was shocked to see Neil right behind her. A wickedly sharp hunting knife caught the light from the outside lamp over her shoulder. The weapon was a scant inch from her chest. Neil was so close to her, she wasn’t sure how she could have possibly missed him sneaking up behind her.
“I just don’t understand,” he said in a breathless voice. His ruddy face was sweating despite the cold temperatures. The bulkiness of the many layers of hoodies he wore added to his already hefty size. He dwarfed her, hiding her from the view below.
Rhonda, who always had something to say about everything, found she couldn’t speak at all. Fear stitched her mouth closed and seized her heart.
“You ruined my life. My life was already shit and you made it worse. I used to be someone before the layoffs. I was the guy in charge. I was the guy giving orders. Then everything went to hell. “
The knife glittered dangerously. Rhonda couldn’t think of anything other than the tip of the blade. Even as Neil spoke in his desperately harsh, yet sobbing voice, her brain couldn’t focus on anything other than the sharp weapon in his hand. Though the keys dangled from her fingers, she knew he would strike if she dared to move. She opened her mouth to cry out, but her throat was strangled by terror.
“I already have my bitch ex-wife demanding that I give her
more money. I’m going to have to move in with my parents...” Neil continued to list his grievances, his jaw tensed and eyes blazing.
The light continued to dance along the edge of the blade.
The band of fear around Rhonda’s chest tightened, making it difficult to breathe. A whistling sound emanated from her throat. Maybe it was a scream. Maybe it was a cry for help. Even Rhonda wasn’t sure. All she could do was stare at the knife. She was caught in the paralyzing grip of terror and drowning swiftly.
“Do you understand what you’ve done?”
Neil’s voice demanded her attention, but she couldn’t look away from the blade. Tears slid down her face. At last, she managed to whisper, “Please.”
The hunting knife receded slightly. “I just want you to understand.”
“Please, don’t,” Rhonda managed to say, her eyes briefly lifting from the knife to the wretched face before her.
“You just don’t get it,” Neil growled, shaking the knife at her.
Rhonda whimpered. In her mind, she always imagined herself as a fighter, but her mind and body had gone numb.
“Stop talking and just kill her,” a voice muttered.
A slender shape stepped into view behind Neil. It was the same teenager from the parking lot that Rhonda had seen earlier.
“She doesn’t understand,” Neil whispered in anguish.
“And she won’t,” the teen assured him, her voice slightly taunting and her eyes flat and cold like a shark’s. “She’ll never understand your pain. So kill her.”
Panicked, Rhonda was finally released from her paralysis. She fumbled with her purse in a blind panic, trying to find her pepper spray.
“Do it now,” the girl snarled. “Kill her!”
Rhonda’s fingers closed on the canister and she jerked it clear of her purse.
“I can’t,” Neil cried out in agony.
The teen girl rested her hand on his arm. “Then let me help.”
Rhonda pressed the trigger on the canister.
Armando perched outside of Vanora’s room, clothed in shadows and hidden from the world. One hand resting on the window, he sensed she was still slumbering. The tendrils of his power whispered against her thoughts, but she kept him out. It was a natural slumber, so he waited for her to awaken. When she did, he would once again speak to her about Roman.
Listening to Vanora shifting in her bed was difficult for him. He felt as though he was intruding on her carefully constructed life, yet he missed her. More than ever, he was tired of being torn between Vanora and his Master. Nothing about the situation that held him captive was simple. Though he was certain he had found a way to circumvent Aeron’s edict, it saddened him to realize that in order for his plan to work, Vanora’s would have to be directly in danger from Aeron himself.
Nearby, a man was arguing with someone. The whispered words were harsh, but Armando ignored the conversation. His concentration was on the girl on the other side of the window. He felt like a stalker, but didn’t know what else to do. With Althea’s assassins on the way, he had to be on the alert. He would not allow anyone to hurt Vanora. Armando had even hired security to watch over her during the day.
Armando tucked his clasped hands under his chin and tried to formulate a new plan to compel Vanora to return to Houston. He considered telling her about Althea’s assassins, but wasn’t sure how to explain them without speaking about Aeron, which would be a violation of the edict.
“Kill her,” a voice hissed through the night.
It took Armando a second to realize that the words were tethered to a supernatural command. Immediately, he scanned the area, his vampire senses attuned to any danger. To his dismay, he realized a familiar power was nearby, someone he wouldn’t identify as dangerous because of the common blood they shared.
“Lorelei,” he muttered.
Keeping himself shrouded in the shadows, he climbed swiftly along the side of the building. The sweet, evil tinkling of Lorelei’s laughter filled the air followed by a gasp, a sickening crack, and then something heavy tumbled to the ground. Armando launched himself around the side of the building and alighted on the rail edging the landing outside of Vanora’s front door.
Rhonda lay sprawled on the welcome mat, her head resting against a small planter set beside the front door. A large man lay at the base of the stairs, his neck bent at an odd angle. A hot peppery smell burned his nose and eyes. He saw then that a can of pepper spray was in Rhonda’s hand. Lorelei stood in the shadows, giggling.
“What did you do?” Armando gasped. Dropping next to Rhonda, he saw the hilt of a large knife protruding from between the lapels of her winter coat.
“He wanted to kill her,” Lorelei answered, shrugging her delicate shoulders. “I just made sure he did, then didn’t live to regret it.”
“I heard your order to kill her,” Armando hissed.
“He was faltering. I just helped.” Lorelei smiled sweetly. “Now Vanora can go home. Rhonda was her anchor to this place. Now she’s gone.”
Hand hovering over Rhonda’s blank eyes, Armando realized he couldn’t touch her. He didn’t know who the man below was or why he’d come to kill Rhonda. Other than Lorelei, he sensed no other supernatural creature. The man wasn’t one of Althea’s assassins.
“I had more time to convince her,” Armando said in a gruff tone.
“I saw an opportunity and took it. I had considered just killing her myself, but then this nice man showed up to do it for me.” Lorelei’s smile widened with contentment. “I love it when things are simple and uncomplicated.”
“Get out of here,” Armando ordered. Taking out his cellphone, he pulled up his dial pad. The emergency operator answered almost immediately. “I need to report a murder.” A wash of cold air stirred his curls and Armando noted that Lorelei was gone.
Once he was done answering all the questions the emergency operator hurled at him, Armando hung up and remained crouched over Rhonda. He fought the urge to move her. It bothered him to see her open eyes and startled expression. Blood flecked her lips and pooled around her body. The blood stirred his hunger slightly, but he had fed well and recently, so he was able to quash it.
Armando ran his fingers slowly through his hair. How was he going to tell Vanora about this? What was he going to tell her? Guilt at him when he considered how close he had been when Rhonda had died. If only he had paid attention when he had heard the argument. He’d been so intent on Vanora being safe, he never really thought about her roommate.
From the depths of Rhonda’s purse, her cellphone begin to play music.
Rolling over in her sleep, Vanora felt Rhonda lightly touch her shoulder as her voice said, “I’m so sorry I have to leave you alone. I’m so sorry, Vanora. The darkness caught me, and now I have to go.”
“Rhonda?”
“I’m so sorry.”
Waking, Vanora blinked into the muted light from her lamp. Her head felt heavy with sleep and she forced herself upright.
“Rhonda?”
Her throat was parched, so Vanora climbed out of bed, grabbed her cellphone, and wandered toward the kitchen. Only the lamp in the living room on the automatic timer cast any light in the main living areas. Rhonda’s door was shut, the light in her room off.
“Rhonda?”
There was no answer.
Stepping into the kitchen, Vanora turned on the light and grabbed a bottle of water from the refrigerator. Gulping it down, she watched the screen on her cellphone. There were a lot of messages from Rhonda, two from Dan, and one from her aunt. With a yawn, Vanora listened to them while trying to quench her deep thirst. She felt physically exhausted, as though she had run for miles.
Vanora felt bad that she had missed so many from Rhonda. Caught up in her own worries, she hadn’t thought about checking in with Rhonda. Her roommate was having a rough time with the upcoming inventory. And even though she had downplayed the situation with her former employee, Vanora suspected it was bothering Rhonda more than she had admitte
d. She returned Rhonda’s call, tucking the phone between her shoulder and ear as she walked into the living room. The phone began to ring on the other end, then Vanora heard Rhonda’s ring tone right outside the front door. With a smile, she canceled the call, unlocked the door, and yanked it open.
“I was just calling you!”
The scene in front of her made no sense to her mind at first. Armando’s vivid amber eyes caught her attention first. They glowed slightly in the light from the apartment.
“Vanora,” he said, straightening.
Rhonda lay before her on a red satin sheet.
“I’m dreaming,” she whispered, her phone falling from her gasp and landing with a thump on the welcome mat.
Then Vanora’s shocked mind recognized the bright red as blood. It was in Rhonda’s tawny curls and seeping out from between her pink lips. Whimpering, Vanora bent over, her hand reaching to close Rhonda’s terrified eyes.
“Don’t touch her, Vanora. The police are coming,” Armando said.
A hot, peppery scent lingered in the air, making Vanora’s eyes smart. It took a few more beats of her heart to spot the hilt of a knife sticking out of Rhonda’s coat, then the crumpled body of a man at the bottom of the stairs.
“Neil killed her,” she gasped, covering her mouth in horror.
“Neil?” Armando was careful to avoid the pooling blood, moving to catch Vanora as she wobbled.
“She fired him.” Vanora gripped the doorjamb and steadied herself. She stretched out her hand toward the knife.
“Don’t touch anything,” Armando said, his fingers briefly clutching her wrist.
“It’s hurting her,” Vanora sobbed.
“Vanora, she’s dead. I’m so sorry.”
She fell back into the apartment, landing hard on her butt. The jolt sent a shock of pain up her spine, but she didn’t care. It was a relief when tears obscured her vision, so she didn’t have to see Rhonda’s empty face and terrified eyes.
In Darkness We Must Abide: The Complete Second Season: Episodes 6-10 Page 13
