In Darkness We Must Abide: The Complete Second Season: Episodes 6-10

by Rhiannon Frater

  Within her was the niggling feeling that she was missing vital information, but it wasn’t in front of her. Vanora stared at her sister’s artwork in dismay. She’d been convinced there was some hidden meaning in the swirls and strokes of paint, and that feeling was not leaving her.

  The racks lining one wall were filled with Alisha’s art pieces that were not born of her gift. Vanora hesitated, then hurried over to them. Maybe Alisha hadn’t realized the significance of a painting and stored it among the others. Sometimes Vanora’s gift was much stronger than other times. Carefully, her long fingers flipped through the canvases, surveying each one with thoughtfulness. She definitely felt drawn to this location and trusted her instincts. It was in the third rack that she found a painting that literally made her gasp aloud.

  Painted in vivid colors were seven women in a circle, each gripping the ankle of the one before her. Jerking it free of the racks, Vanora stared at the image with disbelieving eyes. The only difference between Alisha’s painting and her sketch was that these women were floating in the dark night sky and glowed like stars. It took several seconds for Vanora to make the connection.

  “The Pleiades,” she whispered.

  But what did the seven sister goddesses of Greek Mythology, or the constellation named after them, have to do with what was occurring in her life?

  With trembling fingers, Vanora set the painting aside and continued her search through Alisha’s art. She was almost to the final few when she nearly dropped the canvas she had drawn from among the others.

  The albino vampire stared out of the painting with his mesmerizing lavender eyes. Trembling so violently she could barely withdraw the oil painting from the rack, she pulled ragged breaths of cool air into her lungs. Dizziness swept over her and she fought to retain her balance.

  Vanora carried the painting to the work table and laid it on the surface. Hands pressed to her lips, she stared at the flawless face that was perfectly captured by her sister’s talent. Though he wasn’t depicted as a vampire, but a warrior, there was no mistaking that this was the same man who had entered her dreams, her visions, and even her apartment that one fateful night. His white hair was long and plaited and he wore a beard that made him seem even more imposing. The pale sculpted beauty of his chest was covered in blood, and he held a sword and battered shield as he stood beneath a glowing white moon. As always, her sister had perfectly captured the brilliance of light for it was as if the moonlight poured out of the painting to illuminate her hands.

  “The Pleiades.” Vanora traced over the constellation of the seven sisters tucked into the evening sky in one corner. “What does it mean?”

  Returning to the first painting, she laid them side by side and flipped on the overhead lamp. What she had missed the first time she’d viewed the painting of the seven sisters was that the dim outline of a winged man was superimposed over their celestial form. Only the barest difference in the paint colors gave the figure definition. Tilting her head, Vanora scrutinized the painting of the albino warrior and soon spotted a similar vague outline.

  Feeling sick to the pit of her stomach, Vanora hurried out of her sister’s studio, darted into her bedroom, and grabbed her phone from the bed stand. She hesitated briefly, studying Armando’s silent form. Tears pricked at her eyes and she pressed one hand to her shivering stomach. If only he were awake, so she wouldn’t be forced to face this terrible revelation by herself. Yet, a piece of her was unwilling to share what she’d discovered with him. In fact, the thought of imparting her revelation to him terrified her.

  Vanora didn’t want to search for the cause of her reluctance. She wanted to cling to her love for him and what little happiness it brought her.

  At last, she returned to her sister’s studio. It took a little bit of time to get decent pictures of the paintings, but she was satisfied with a few she had taken.

  The desperate need for an explanation of the images filled her and she fidgeted with the ends of her long hair as she stared at the art pieces. She was terribly afraid, but excited. The paintings held great significance; she just needed to ask the right person to acquire the answers she craved.

  Again she thought of asking Armando and again the reluctance she immediately experienced frightened her. Armando was keeping something from her, but what? Did it have to do with the strange women and the albino vampire?

  Looking over her shoulder at the remaining paintings, Vanora was reluctant to continue her search. What if there was something even direr hidden in the remaining pieces? She had to know if there was even if she was afraid.

  Carrying the two paintings to the racks, she stored them away before starting to review the last few canvases. The only other canvas that gave her pause was of a giant wolf staring forlornly at the moon. In Roman’s dream he had said the wolf would reveal the truth. Her teeth tugging on her bottom lip, she set the painting on an empty easel and studied it.

  The power of her gift hit her so violently it knocked her on her ass. Her body caught in the vice grip of the burgeoning vision, her heels thumped against the floor as her eyesight dimmed. Fingers scrabbling at the floor, she gasped for air. Then the world went utterly dark.

  Dragging ragged breaths into her heavy chest, Vanora steeled herself for what came next.

  Then it began.

  In vivid flashes, Vanora witnessed her sister desperately spreading thick layers of paint over a finished painting. The rapid-fire images revealed Alisha’s frenzied attempt to cover the scene with a new work. The art Alisha was hiding beneath the globs of oil paint sent chills of terror through Vanora’s already seizing body. It was the death of Carys that Vanora had witnessed in her birthday vision. Her mother floated in the river with a jeweled dagger plunged into her heart while the silhouette of the albino vampire obscured the moon.

  In a matter of seconds the terrible vision was over, leaving Vanora completely blind. Groaning, she rolled onto her side and clenched her eyes shut. The ringing in her ears made her head hurt and she fought to keep her lunch down.

  Run, Vanora, run! Fight fate, her mother’s voice whispered in hear ear.

  “It didn’t save you,” Vanora cried out.

  The words spilled out of her mouth and felt like truth. Had her mother run away? Born in Wales, her mother had settled far away from her ancestral home. Had she been running too?

  Silence was her only answer.

  It was a struggle to return to her room. Without her sixth sense, she could only make out dark shapes in the murky hallway. She stumbled a few times, but eventually found her way. When she reached her personal bathroom, she couldn’t hold her lunch down any longer. Her body shook in the aftermath as she wiped her mouth with a tissue. Still blind, she managed to brush her teeth and wash her face.

  “I need answers,” she whispered, not certain who she was praying to.

  God? Her mother? Roman?

  Ask the vampire you love so much. Ask him.

  Cary’s voice in her mind.

  But was it really her mother, or her own tortured psyche. What was Armando keeping from her?

  “I love him and he loves me,” Vanora murmured, pressing the heels of her hands to her blind eyes.

  You are not for him and he is not for you.

  “Shut up,” Vanora growled. “Shut up!”

  Was this her mother uttering truths from beyond the grave or a manifestation of Vanora’s fears?

  Lowering her hands, she was relieved to see that her sight was gradually returning. Once in her bedroom, she slipped her phone out of her robe pocket and placed it on the bed stand. Five more hours until sunset. Again, she fought against tears of frustration and despair. If only Armando was awake he could comfort her. It was still very cold in the room, but she didn’t dare stagger around half-blind to alter the thermostat.

  Instead, she stripped off her clothes and crawled under the covers. It was even colder beneath the sheets. She wanted to hold Armando while she slept, but he was too chilly to curl against. Finally, she settled
on tucking the blankets around her nude form until the covers trapped her body heat.

  Sidling up to Armando, she dared to snuggle into his side again. He was still cool to the touch, but the warmth from the blankets slowly absorbed into his skin. Vanora intertwined her fingers with his and closed her eyes. She needed to sleep. Exhaustion was eating her up and she couldn’t bear to be awake any longer.

  As Vanora finally drifted off to sleep, she wondered if she’d be brave enough to face the truth.

  * * *

  Armando woke. For a split second he was muddled, then he remembered where he was and why the bed was so deliciously warm. Instantly, a smile slid over his lips. Shifting onto his side, he observed the young woman sleeping next to him.

  Every time he gazed at Vanora, he was enthralled by her absolute loveliness. It wasn’t just the delicate beauty of her features, the slender lines of her limbs, or her snowy hair and fair skin. Armando had lived long enough to have taken lovers of every shape and color. What drew him to the human was the essence of the woman. It emanated out of her like moonlight. He called her his moon goddess for a reason. In her radiance, he felt more attune to the man within and not the monster. Vanora made him want to be a better man to be worthy of her. She was strong willed, powerful and intelligent, but it was her compassion and loyalty that exalted her above the women Armando had surrounded himself with for centuries.

  In the muted light cast by the lamp on the bed stand, her white lashes cast long shadows over her face that resembled tears. Frowning, he touched her cheek gently. He hated that so much had happened to bring her pain. What he hated even more was that Aeron would soon arrive to lay waste to her life and claim her.

  Armando wasn’t a fool.

  Their time was short and he knew it.

  The mere thought of his Master made him shiver. Pressing a kiss to Vanora’s brow, he threaded his fingers in her hair, and tilted her head so he could feel her breath on his skin.

  For so long, Aeron’s will had been Armando’s purpose in life. He had stood at Aeron’s side and done his bidding without question. It was Aeron’s bite that had released him from the mortal coil and his blood that had made Armando a creature of the eternal night. They’d spent many nights in battles against the Seven Sisters and their forces, but they’d also caroused like two merry young men. There had been much blood, wine, song, women, and revelry. It was known among all Aeron’s vampires that it was Armando that Aeron loved most. He called him his son and exalted him above all others. Even over his delectable little killer, Lorelei.

  Aeron was noble, strong, intelligent, loyal, and powerful. Armando loved him as a father. Their relationship was sometimes fraught with the same complexities of a human father and son relationship. He had never doubted Aeron until he had met Roman and never feared his Master until he’d loved Vanora. Aeron wanted what Armando treasured most, and this left the Spanish vampire torn. The Socolis had utterly toppled Armando’s world, and he was lost in the new one he now inhabited.

  Armando wiped away unexpected tears for his dark lashes.

  Though Aeron was brutal, he was also an honest man who did what he felt was right. Though Armando was furious with Aeron for the death of Roman, he understood the reasoning behind the act. Aeron was a man of another era and mindset. Removing the leader of his enemies was a clever move to destabilize wherever he wanted to conquer.

  Lightly rubbing his thumb over Vanora’s lips, he felt the warm puffs of her breath against his palm. Her humanity terrified him. It made her so much easier to hurt, or to kill. His only solace was that Aeron wanted Vanora as a living woman. That much had been made clear to Armando from the moment he’d been sent to watch over her. His Master had been very troubled by Roman’s transformation into a vampire. Armando still remembered Aeron’s relief that Vanora had not been transformed into a creature of the night.

  Aeron was a huge believer in oracles. He’d sought out many over his long life. It was the prognostications of the oracles that had sent him on his quest to destroy the Seven Sisters. His Master firmly believed that Vanora was the fulfillment of a prophecy given by a soothsayer long ago, but never revealed exactly what her role in that prediction would be. The vampire tended to be secretive about certain matters.

  Armando couldn’t bear to lose Vanora to Aeron.

  Aeron had many brides and one favored queen. Throughout his time with Aeron, Armando had watched queens fall out of favor and disappear. Aeron’s latest queen, Mirrah, had been with him the longest. Aeron fell madly in love with women, revered them, then grew frustrated when they revealed themselves not to be perfect. Vanora should never suffer their fate.

  Yet, could Armando refuse Aeron’s will?

  Armando had Aeron’s blood in his veins and Aeron’s edict imprisoning his will. He recognized he was grasping at the thinnest threads of hope that his love for Vanora and the wording of his Master’s edict would somehow liberate him and allow him to escape with Vanora. Of course, Aeron would hunt them down and discover where they were hiding. It was inevitable. And when he did find them, he’d kill Armando for his betrayal and take Vanora.

  Armando gazed adoringly at the young woman’s face. He loved her so much, but he knew she was truly not his. The Fates had conspired against them to give her to Aeron, his Master, who wanted her for reasons hidden to Armando.

  But Aeron wanted her to be mortal.

  Maybe if Vanora was no longer human...

  His teeth grew to sharp points behind his lips as his eyes shifted to watch the gentle throb of her pulse in her throat. Leaning forward, he felt the need to feed rising.

  The white eyelashes lifted to reveal the lavender and dark purple hues of her eyes. A slight smile pressed onto Vanora’s pale pink lips when she saw him hovering over her. If he had breath, it would be caught in his throat. The love that burned in her gaze made him whole, yet terrified him.

  Lifting her hand, Vanora traced edges of his mouth with the very ends of her fingers, her nails lightly scratching his skin. The points of his teeth retracted as he waited for her to speak for he couldn’t find the words to express how he felt in that instant. Instead, she raised herself up on her elbow and kissed him. Her lips were demanding and full of yearning.

  Neither one of them dared speak, so instead, they kissed with unchecked passion. Vanora’s slim body straddled his and he was lost in the fragrant curtain of her white hair as it fell over him. He almost felt human in the flush of her presence. It was her choice to take him deep inside of her silky wet sex and to dominate his mouth with her tongue and lips while she swayed her hips over his.

  Enraptured, he let her take control their lovemaking, overwhelmed with her love and desire. When she finally shuddered into a climax, he shifted her white tresses away from her face so he could witness the beauty of the moment. Her pleasure called to his and he groaned as he came hard inside her. Vanora sucked on his bottom lip as she rode him through his orgasm. He could feel and hear her heart wildly beating as her blood rushed through her body to the sensitive spots that burned with pleasure. The desire to bite and feed came promptly, but he fought against the need.

  “I love you,” Vanora murmured against his lips, her lavender eyes capturing his gaze. “I love you so much it hurts.”

  “I feel the same,” he answered, surprised he even had a voice.

  Though they were still intricately linked, his cock still deep in her, the sensation of suddenly being adrift from her frightened him. Clutching her arms with his hands, he dragged her down into another searing kiss. Perhaps she was experiencing the same fear, for she responded hungrily.

  “Are the others awake?” she dared to ask when he flipped her onto her back and pinned her to the bed so he could stroke himself in and out of her.

  “No. Not yet.”

  “Then we have time.”

  For the next hour, Armando lavished her with the love he’d pent up inside himself since the night he lost her. He made love to her with his mouth, fingers, and dick, determin
ed to satisfy her in every way. Her warmth was his warmth. Her sweat dotted his skin. Her breath was shared by their kisses.

  When the other vampires began to stir in the deep recesses of the house, the couple finally climbed out of the bed to prepare for the night. The sadness and apprehension in Vanora’s eyes made him ache for her, but there was nothing he could do but let her know he was there to comfort her. Strangely, she seemed more haunted now than when they had gone to bed. In the stark light of the bathroom, he saw her glance at him with a question lingering deep in her eyes, yet it didn’t cross her lips.

  In the shower, he attempted to keep a dignified distance, but when Vanora pressed him to the tiles and slid to her knees to slip him into her mouth, he was lost. She was a novice, but learned very quickly how to pleasure him. That much was very evident by the way she left him gasping and trembling from her ministrations.

  In the aftermath, as he held her beneath the hot stream of water, he again sensed that they were both attempting to love each other as much as possible before the world did its best to tear them apart. He wasn’t the same vampire sent to protect her and deliver her to his Master anymore. He wasn’t too sure who he was now, but he did know he loved her enough to die for her.

  Armando left her side only long enough to slip into the shadows to find the clothes that had been soaked the night before. Someone had hung the items in the laundry room and he dressed swiftly.

  While passing through the kitchen, he observed the single bowl and drinking glass sitting in the sink. Vanora had evidently risen and eaten at some point. The sight gave him pause. Had something happened during her waking hours? Something had changed in her gaze since he’d fallen asleep. Though Vanora was doing her best to show him how much she loved him, there was something amiss.