In Darkness We Must Abide: The Complete First Season: Episodes 1-5

by Rhiannon Frater

  “Four-hundred years old!” Vanora exclaimed. “God, that’s ancient!”

  “Yes, I am. All of these years I have lived many lives, lived in many places. During my travels, I have been with our kind many times. But when I decided to become Antonio Ferrer, I cut myself off from them. I had to. I‘d made the conscious decision to live openly in the mortal world. Many of our kind are too terrified to do such a thing. I could not live in secrecy anymore. There were twenty in my pack a decade ago. We had been together for close to a hundred years. We were all very wealthy, due to the fact that we have been hording jewelry and the like for centuries. We lived in an abandoned house, and I admit that we hunted in the ghettos for our prey. Then, one night, I just couldn’t live like that anymore. When I announced I was leaving, there was an intense fight among us. Vampires do not like to change from the old ways. Only nine of us survived the fighting. We split our money among us and I left. They went back to living their desolate lives. I claimed a trust I had set up for myself a hundred years before and discovered that I was richer than I ever imagined. I wrote a book, which sold. I moved into an apartment, bought a car, and entered into the world of mortals.”

  “Amazing,” Alisha whispered, entranced by his story.

  “A few years ago, I went looking for the other nine. They were all dead. Staked through the heart in the basement of the old house. I believe hunters found them.”

  Alisha winced. “Oh, God.”

  Roman was unsettled by the story. He gently stroked Vanora’s hair, the simple action calming him. “Hunters? Who are they?”

  “You know, vampire hunters, like in the movies. Right?” Vanora cut in.

  Armando smiled at her. “Exactly. For as long as there have been vampires, there have been hunters. It is wise to avoid them at all costs. Slaying a large amount of humans is not recommended. The hunters always arrive when such killings occur.”

  “We don’t drink human blood,” Alisha said.

  Armando raised an eyebrow.

  “Finish your story then I will tell you ours,” Roman said.

  “It was then, looking at those bodies in that horrible house, that I knew I had been wise. In the old days, we had not been so frightened, but as the world became more modern, we were forced underground. Vampires lost their way in the new world and clung to the old. I have found many vampires during the years, but they were living desolate lives. I had given up hope of finding one of my own living as I do. You are the first vampires I have found living openly.” Armando sank into silence, his face pensive.

  “We could never live such a bleak life,” Roman said softly.

  “And we have Vanora to think about,” Alisha added.

  “So that is why I am here,” Armando said after a beat. “To find new friends.”

  The tension in the room gradually alleviated as Armando spoke in his accented, even tones. It didn’t take long for Roman to believe that this cultured elegant man was sincere. Armando was charming and likeable, his eyes sparkling as he spoke, his words weaving a fascinating tale of an immortal man watching history unfold before him as he hid in the shadows.

  Armando sat in the oversized leather chair sipping the red wine Alisha had offered him. The early hours of the morning were slipping away. Vanora was trying hard not to fall asleep, her head resting on Alisha’s shoulder. She was completely enraptured by the newcomer. In the grocery store, she thought he was the most handsome man she’d ever seen, but now he seemed even more alluring. She loved the way he moved his long, elegant hands when he spoke and how his eyebrows arched at certain parts of his story.

  “The old ways died for vampires as well as mortals when the new world was discovered. We came here seeking to escape the life we were confined to in the old world. A life rife with superstitions. We lived like animals in tombs and deserted churches, starving ourselves into madness, then roaming the night like a pack of bloodthirsty wolves. The hunters slaughtered us at every turn. Then we came here and we, too, found freedom. But as mortals so often do, we once more fell into the old pattern of rules and codes of ethics. We fell back into that abyss and I would not follow. Once I was out of the dark life I had lived with my companions, I realized that my knowledge of history could be beneficial, not only to myself, but to others. That is when I started writing.”

  “I wish I could write. I really like the books. I haven’t read any of yours.” Vanora yawned.

  “Well, should you ever want to know about the history of Spain and her influence in the Americas, you should read them,” Armando responded.

  “She’s very much into her own Celtic ancestry,” Roman said wryly. “I don’t think any Romanian genes found their way into her. Or Alisha, for that matter. I call them my Celtic witches. Fascinating how sometimes one parent isn’t reflected in a child.”

  “I am pure Spanish. I don’t understand dual backgrounds. However, Vanora does resemble some Romanians I’ve known. But then again, she looks somewhat like a Welshman I was once acquainted with,” Armando commented, then sipped his wine. His golden eyes studied Vanora with acute interest.

  Her teenage hormones were getting the best of her and she knew it. Blushing under his gaze, she snuggled into Alisha’s side. There was no way he’d be interested in a dumb fourteen year old girl, but it was very different to crush on an older man—much, much older—than a stupid boy at school.

  “You should go to bed now,” Roman suggested. “Your eyes keep closing.”

  Vanora stood up wearily. “Fine. Tyrant.”

  “Teenagers are so dramatic,” Roman said to Armando.

  “I’m now remembering that,” Armando admitted, grinning.

  Vanora leaned over and kissed her sister’s cheek. “Good night, Alisha.”

  “Until tomorrow.” Alisha embraced Vanora lovingly.

  Vanora wrapped her arms around Roman’s neck and kissed him on the cheek. “Night, Roman.”

  Roman kissed her on both of hers. “Don’t forget your prayers.”

  “In this house! Are you kidding?” Vanora rolled her eyes. On impulse, she walked over to Armando and extended her hand. “It was nice to meet you, Armando.”

  Armando stood up and bowed slightly over their handshake. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Vanora.” His golden eyes stared into hers with a dark, searching intensity that was slightly unsettling.

  Vanora jerked her hand away, averting her eyes. Feeling suddenly embarrassed, she escaped up the stairs to her room and locked her bedroom door behind her. Her body was shivering. Sitting down at her vanity, Vanora stared into her reflection. Her long, white blond hair spilled over her shoulders and framed her face, which was very flushed. Armando had done something to her that no one else ever had. He had made her realize that she was becoming a woman.

  Armando let himself into his penthouse apartment, his keys jingling in his fingers. That must have alerted Carlotta, because she swung the door wide open. The vampire stood before him in a frothy red negligee made of yards of satin and lace. Even though it did not reveal much flesh, it clung to her curves sensuously. Her long raven hair fell into a tumble of curls down to her waist, and the comb in her hand indicated she had been busy combing it out.

  “Where were you?” she demanded in her rich accent.

  “I told you,” Armando responded as he pushed past her.

  Carlotta slammed the door shut, her dark eyes flashing. “You tell me nothing. You just left.”

  Armando sighed, pulling off his black overcoat. “You knew I went to meet with that vampire.”

  “The one you’ve been spying on? He’s nothing,” Carlotta responded, dismissing him with her hand. “He knows nothing. He is nothing. He is not important.”

  Armando raised an eyebrow. “He must be if I was told to meet with him. Besides, I found him interesting. So was his sister. I found them to be...inspiring.”

  Carlotta sighed dramatically. She was an incredible beauty. Her dark exotic looks, her seductively voluptuous figure, and sultry manner made her allur
ing. Being a vampire made her irresistible. She strode into the middle of the enormous living room decorated all in black and white and picked up a magazine she had been looking at.

  “According to this, I should leave you,” she said with a playful smile. “I took this test in the magazine and it says you’re an asshole.”

  Armando scoffed at her. “You shouldn’t read such trash.”

  “I don’t read your books.”

  Armando refused to be baited. He was used to Carlotta’s fiery moods. She loved to fight with him when she was in a bad mood. He attributed it to the fact that she was a gypsy.

  Carlotta drew near, her eyes drawing his into their depths. “Why do you need to know them?”

  Armando poured himself some wine. “Why ask questions you already know the answer to? And, like I said, I find them intriguing. They are not trapped by preconceived notions of how we are to act.”

  “They amuse you.”

  “They’re very mortal.”

  Carlotta took his glass from his hand and sipped the wine, her eyes studying him. “You do things I don’t understand.”

  “That is the way it will always be,” Armando responded with a shrug.

  Carlotta handed the glass back to him thoughtfully. “Maybe I would like to meet them.”

  “I think they are far too boring for your taste,” Armando replied slyly.

  “Did you tell them of the others? Of him?”

  Armando shook his head. “I told them a little about the other vampires. The rebel vampires only. He doesn’t want them to know about him or the vampire world. He wants them to be isolated and watched. I concur. Let them be on their own. Let them find their own pack. Besides, the others are hardly ever around. And those here in the States are mostly rebels, and they keep to their own packs.”

  Carlotta nodded in agreement. “They sound so young and naive.”

  “That’s what I like about them. They are full of ideas, revolutionary ones. They aren’t hindered by what they think they should be. It’s refreshing.”

  Carlotta tossed her head and strode into the bedroom. A large canopy bed draped in dark blue velvet dominated the room. It was very old and very ornate. She crawled onto it and arranged her robes around her. Armando followed, deep in thought. Carlotta’s dark eyes studied his brooding form silently.

  It amused Armando when she tried to figure him out. She truly didn’t know him. He preferred it that way. Ever since he had stumbled across her all those hundreds of years ago, their relationship had been extremely complicated and yet so simple. They would fight with such intense hatred they’d almost kill each other and the next moment love each other with the passion only vampires could express.

  Tonight, her dark gaze was verging on cruelty.

  “You’re making me nervous,” Armando said suddenly, startling her.

  “Why?”

  “You’re too quiet. A dangerous sign.”

  “I’m thinking about how we met so long ago.”

  “That again?” He couldn’t help but smile. “You scared the hell out of me when you jumped out of that tree I was riding under.”

  “I wanted you.” Carlotta responded flippantly, her eyes intense. “I made you mine.”

  Armando started to undress. “Yes, I suppose in one sense you did.”

  “I don’t intend to ever let you go,” Carlotta continued.

  Armando lifted an eyebrow. “What if I decide to leave?”

  “You won’t.” Carlotta stretched out on the bed with cat-like movements.

  Armando tossed his shirt and jacket over a chair and sat beside her on the bed. Leaning toward her, his eyes capturing hers, he said, “You are far too sure of yourself.”

  “Perhaps, but I know you need me just as much as I need you,” Carlotta responded, rolling over and resting her head on his lap. She gazed up at him seductively. “We are two of a kind.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  Carlotta snapped her body upright. “Why do you say that?”

  “You, my dear, hardly know me,” Armando declared, his golden eyes appraising her coldly.

  “I know you better than anyone!” Carlotta protested.

  “So you think,” Armando corrected.

  “So I know!”

  Armando stood up and finished undressing. “Are you staying?”

  Carlotta was flustered by his question. “Of course! It’s too close to dawn for me to make it home.”

  “Very well.” Armando made sure the curtains were tightly closed while Carlotta sat fuming.

  “I do know you well!” Carlotta abruptly shouted.

  “You share my bed, not my mind..”

  “You are trying to provoke me, you damn Spanish bastard!” Carlotta fumed.

  Armando narrowed his eyes. “I was merely telling you the truth.”

  Carlotta screamed with rage and yanked the curtains of the canopy closed.

  Armando grinned. He felt like ticking off the volatile gypsy. For some reason he was feeling extremely contrary. The evening’s visit had made him think of people and places that were long gone and of emotions he had long thought dead. Still smirking, he finished dressing in his silk pajamas bottoms.

  The phone rang abruptly, and he quickly snatched up the receiver. “Hello?”

  “Did you contact the Socolis?” The voice was one he knew well. It still had the power to make him feel utterly helpless.

  “Yes, I did.”

  “And the girl? Has she been brought over?”

  “No, she is mortal. Her brother and sister are caring for her.”

  “Are you sure they won’t try to try to bring her over?”

  “Yes, yes, I’m sure they won’t. They seem to hate being vampires and have an aversion to even acknowledging that they’ve entered the dark life. They live as mortals and still think as mortals.”

  “Weaklings,” the voice declared with disgust. “That’s good. Watch the girl carefully. You must protect her. She is the one.”

  Armando lowered his voice to say, “I realize you think that because she’s an albino-”

  “Did you not feel her power?”

  “Yes, yes, I did. The power I feel in her is so strong, and yet, she is so young.”

  There was a satisfied chuckle. “Then our time approaches. Very well. You know what to do.”

  “Yes, Master,” Armando answered as the line was cut off.

  Deep in thought, he pushed aside the curtains surrounding his bed aside. His silk pajamas slid easily under the satin sheets. Settling beside Carlotta, he drew the curtains close. The sun would soon be rising over the horizon, and weariness was settling in his limbs. Carlotta was lying with her back to him, obviously upset, muttering away in Spanish.

  “Carlotta,” Armando whispered.

  “Was it the Master?”

  “Yes, it was. All is well.” Armando rested his hand on her shoulder. “Carlotta, we are not alike in all things, but I do care for you very much.” He kissed the curve of her shoulder.

  “You are a bastard!” Carlotta snapped. “But I forgive you.” Rolling over, she snuggled up against him.

  Armando kissed her soft hair and held her close, enjoying the coolness of her soft body against his.

  “You do care for me very much, don’t you, you rotten Spanish bastard?”

  “Yes,” Armando responded.

  Carlotta kissed his neck affectionately. “I care for you.”

  Armando held his temperamental gypsy lover close and closed his eyes. They never said the word 'love' to each other for they knew that was not what they shared. Love was something Armando had not felt for a very long time and truly did not want to feel its fiery sting again. Love was far too painful and dangerous for a vampire to indulge in. An eternity is a long time to suffer.

  “Was Roman handsome?”

  “Yes, I suppose. You should like that he is very wealthy.”

  “Then maybe we should meet,” Carlotta decided.

  “Someday, perhaps. But not now. It�
��s too soon.”

  Carlotta kissed his chin and whispered, “Until tonight, my darling.”

  Armando closed his eyes and fell asleep as the sun rose.

  For the first few weeks after Armando’s appearance in their lives, Roman kept the vampire in his study during visits, significantly limiting his involvement with his two sisters. Armando was somewhat amused by Roman’s parental attitude toward Alisha and Vanora.

  During their talks together, Roman revealed to Armando the incredible mind of his new-found friend. Roman was a deep thinker, who constantly examined his life, searching for any flaws in his character which needed to be rectified and fortifying his strengths. Roman’s determination to remain as human as possible was impressive. He aspired to live a life that contained honor, love, and a measure of happiness. Armando was surprised to find himself challenged by those beliefs, but he still remained dedicated to fulfilling his Master’s orders.

  Roman found comfort in his new friendship. He had not realized the extent of his isolation until he finally had a companion with whom he could share his ideas. Roman enjoyed the challenge of Armando’s questions and found himself sinking many of his new philosophies into his journals. Slowly, a tome he christened Roman’s Law, emerged. When he finally allowed Armando to read the journal, the Spaniard asked for a copy, and Roman complied. Armando transcribed it, then contacted a local printer and requested a hundred leather bound volumes, the minimum amount the printer would allow him to order. He presented copies to Roman and Alisha as gifts and burned the rest.

  But what Armando did not know, was that several botched copies of Roman’s Law were thrown away in a dumpster behind the printing building. A dumpster diver found the books and sold them to a second-hand bookstore.

  April 2005

  Long, skinny legs draped over the armrest, Vanora slouched in one of the leather chairs in Roman’s study reading a book for school. It was a bit difficult to concentrate with the epic shouting match taking place in the hall.

  “I can date whoever I want!” Alisha yelled at Roman. “Just because you don’t like Sin doesn’t mean I’m going to stop seeing him!”