“That makes two of us,” Armando said, his laugh bitter, but his following kiss sweetly passionate.
Vanora didn’t know what she wanted other than to feel his hands stroking the backs of her thighs and his tongue and lips against hers. Drowning in the sensations of him, she tangled her fingers in his hair, afraid to touch him anywhere else. The throb between her legs was unbearable. When his hand slid around to caress her intimately, she was the one to pull way.
“I’m sorry,” he said huskily, stepping back.
Hands pressed to her bosom, she could feel her heart thumping beneath her fingers. “I...haven’t done that.”
A small smile played on Armando’s lips. “Of course.”
“I…uh…” Vanora struggled to contain the crazed passions coursing through her. “I just…You said that we shouldn’t be together, but this happened again. And if you say it again after we…did that, I couldn’t bear it.”
“Vanora,” Armando said in such a way that her knees almost gave out. Tenderly drawing her into his arms, he rested his lips against the spot where her neck met her shoulder. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“But you’re not for me and I’m not for you,” Vanora whispered into the softness of his hair.
Armando gently kissed her lips, then drew away. “I should go. I have a deadline for a new book. I’m behind.”
“You’re going to stay away, aren’t you?” Vanora’s voice caught in her throat and her head throbbed. Feeling weak, she leaned heavily against the wall.
“I think we both need to think,” Armando said after a long moment of hesitation. “To get our wits about us.”
“Do you want me?” Vanora dared to ask.
“Oh, God, yes.” Armando ran his fingers through his hair, the curls clinging to them. “And it’s all so wrong. Your age, my age, Roman, Alisha, my nature, your mortality, my-” He stopped himself.
“Your what?” Vanora was starting to regret not giving in to him. Maybe she shouldn’t have pushed him away. If she had sex with him, maybe he’d stay with her. Immediately she realized that was foolish to even consider, but the thought of him leaving hurt too much.
“My deadline,” he said at last.
Vanora nervously tugged her skirt down and adjusted the straps of her dress. “I see.”
“I’ll be back for the Halloween Ball. That will give us both time to think.”
“Armando….please.” Her voice cracked and a tear fell.
Immediately, he came into her arms. How could a kiss be so sweet, yet so full of hunger? She clung to him this time, reluctant to let him go, but he was resolved in his decision to leave.
“Halloween, okay? We’ll talk then.”
What other choice did she have? Vanora nodded.
“Nothing about this is easy.” Armando stroked her cheek, then kissed her forehead.
As the door clicked behind him, Vanora sniffled and wiped her eyes.
“Then how can you go?” she asked the empty foyer.
***
Armando stared at the screen of his computer, but truly didn’t see the words sprawling across the white expanse. Hands clasped and pressed to his lips, he tried to drag his thoughts away from Vanora. He was making some serious mistakes in his handling of her, yet he was unsure how to rectify the situation. The warmth of her body still clung to him, eliciting the need for blood and sex. He had lied to her when he said he didn’t want to bite her. She had no idea how close he’d come to sinking his teeth into her soft neck.
The cellphone rang beside him, and he quickly picked it up.
“What are you planning?” An airy voice with a slight lilt made him shiver.
“Lorelei,” he said with distaste.
Her mocking laughter filled his ear. “Have you missed me?”
“Why is he having you call me?”
“Because he’s busy…with things. You left a message saying you have something to tell him?”
Armando could vividly see Lorelei’s mocking little smile in his mind’s eye. He detested her. “Yes. There’s been a development. I may have figured out a way to keep Vanora in Houston.”
“Oh?”
“She has a crush on me. I can use it to keep her close.” Armando rubbed his brow slowly. He was certain that his Master would not be too keen on his plan.
Lorelei burst into chortles of delight. “Oh, that is wonderful. Our Master will be simply thrilled.”
“She’s young. It takes very little to keep her intrigued,” Armando said defensively. “I won’t sleep with her.”
“Just have sex?”
“Lorelei,” Armando hissed.
“Oh, you’re so defensive. Tsk, tsk. I’ll let him know when he’s done…doing…things.”
Armando hung up. Lorelei would twist things about to suit herself and to cause him trouble, but Armando was ready to defend himself. Lorelei was a vicious psychopath, but over time he had learned how to deal with her.
With a weary sigh, he sat back in his chair, staring at his manuscript with unseeing eyes. If only he could go home to Spain and leave all this behind. Yet, that wasn’t an option. He had to stay. He had to wait. Otherwise his life was forfeit.
With an angry exhalation, he turned off his computer and picked up the phone to call Carlotta.
September 2007
Vanora was startled when Sheila threw the newspaper she was holding down in disgust, her many bangle bracelets tinkling. “Did you read this article, Alisha? Some asshole is molesting children in Houston. Says in the paper that the police can’t find him because he dresses up like a clown, so there’s no definitive description of the man.”
The three women were in Alisha’s workroom, helping Alisha organize her work area. Sheila had been stacking the newspapers Alisha used to protect her work area when she’d spotted the article.
“Clown equals ick. Clown pedophile equals double ick,” Vanora declared in a disgusted tone. She was busy sorting out her sister’s paint brushes by size. It was boring, but she was desperate to keep her mind occupied with something other than Armando’s absence. Sometimes, she was certain Armando would return to claim her heart, and other times, she was positive he would crush it.
Alisha lifted her head, pausing in organizing her paints. “Are you serious? He’s back? That guy was around when Vanora was ten. There was a huge manhunt for him, then nothing came of it.”
“Well, if I ever get my hands on this bloke, he’ll never touch another child.”
Coming from anyone else, those words would sound like an idle threat, but Vanora could hear the dangerous undercurrent in Sheila’s tone.
“And they call us monsters!” Sheila slouched into a nearby armchair, clearly disgruntled with the whole situation. “Fucking pedos are the worst monsters on the face of the fuckin’ planet and the hunters waste their time pursuing us!”
Vanora carefully placed Alisha’s brushes into their new containers, feeling pensive. Now that she was older, Roman had relaxed his rules about allowing the vampires to visit, and she was still adjusting to their presence. Armando and her siblings never frightened her, but there was something about the other vampires that sometimes made her uneasy. Sheila and Alisha had grown closer during Vanora’s absence during the summer. Vanora rather liked the slender vampire with the punk rock attitude and fun fashion sense. Though Sheila had a fashion model figure, it had come from starvation when she was mortal.
Alisha sighed heavily, returning to her sorting. “If they ever catch him, they’ll toss him in jail for a few years then let him out to do it all over again.”
Sheila snorted with disgust, folding her long arms across her small breasts. Her heavy, studded combat boots clunked against the chair as she swung her legs. “In the old days, we’d hunt his sort for sport. We’d set him free in a remote area then have a shit-ton of fun hunting him down. Predators love hunting predators.”
A disquieting chill settled into the room. Vanora pressed her lips together, trying not to say anything, but her mo
uth won out. “But then you’d be just as bad as the hunters.”
Sheila made a face and shrugged her boney shoulders. “He deserves it. I’m reformed.”
“What do you think?” Vanora asked her sister.
Alisha carefully wiped off a paint container and placed it into her new cabinet. The older Socoli sister was obviously weighing her words before responding. At last, with a slight shrug, she said, “I don’t know, Vanora. It’s hard to say what’s right when it comes to people like that. I can understand why some parents take it into their own hands and kill the people who molested their children. If anyone hurt you, I’d lose my mind.”
“But you’d never kill anyone, would you?” Vanora persisted, her brow creasing.
Alisha avoided her sister’s inquisitive gaze. “Of course not, Snow Pea.”
Alisha’s words sounded hollow. Vanora stared at her sister worriedly. Ever since her return from summer vacation, she’d been aware of dark undercurrents in the house. Though superficially her siblings seemed the same, Vanora felt as though she were somehow losing them. She’d thought it was because she was soon moving away, but now she wondered.
“I’m just talking shit,” Sheila said, flashing a grin at Vanora. “C’mon. Don’t take it so seriously. Those days are long gone. Like I said, I’m reformed. Hell, your brother and sister never even had to kill anyone! It’s a whole new world. This fucker will screw up eventually and they’ll catch him and toss him in jail.”
Handing over the brushes to Alisha, Vanora studied the look on her sister’s face. There was something off about it. “You never had to kill anyone, right?”
“Roman was there for me,” Alisha answered swiftly. “He took care of me from the very beginning.”
A disturbing memory of Roman ordering Vanora to shut her bedroom door the night Alisha had awakened as a vampire slithered out of the depths of her mind. “But you weren’t okay when you woke up, were you?”
Swiveling about on her bare heel, Alisha set her hands on Vanora’s shoulders. “Roman made it right for both of us immediately. You know how he is. He fixes things right away. No dawdling. We have this life because of his swift action.”
Sighing, Vanora nodded. Sliding onto a stool, she hooked her feet onto the bottom rung. Clad in a summer dress adorned with flowers her sister bought her, she felt like a child all at once. Maybe she was being completely foolish thinking Armando would want to be with her. Maybe he was just playing with her emotions.
Sheila noted the tension in the air and stopped swinging her feet. “Vanora, your brother is a leader. He has his shit together like no other vampire I have ever met. Alexander and I fuckin’ love him. He’s awesome. And he’s not only your brother, but also your pappy. He’s got you taken care of. You’re safe. Fuck me, how long did it take him to let us hang around you? Months. How long did it take him to let Fancy-Spanish-Britches to hang around?”
“A very long time,” Alisha replied. “He was absolutely paranoid.”
“Speaking of Hot-and-Spanish, we swung by to see him the other night.” Sheila tossed the newspaper onto the stack near the chair.
Vanora tried not to look as keenly interested as she actually was.
“Oh? How’s his book?” Alisha wiped her hands on her jeans and set them on her hips.
“He says it’s coming along, but he was on a ‘break,’ if that’s what you call shagging a hot psycho gypsy woman.” Sheila rolled her eyes.
Vanora felt like Sheila had hit her with a truck. “What?”
“Some hot as hell chick was there. Carlotta.” Sheila exaggerated the name, rolling the “r” off her tongue. “A vampire I’ve never seen before.”
Vanora could feel Alisha staring at her, but Vanora pretended to be interested in her sister’s paint pallets, sorting them on the work table by size.
“So he introduced her as his girlfriend?” Alisha leaned against the table, her arm brushing against Vanora’s.
The warmth of her sister’s love sifted over Vanora like a soft snowfall. She could almost hear her sister’s voice whispering to her to be calm.
“No, no. He played it all off that she was an ‘old friend’ from back home.” Sheila made quotes with her fingers while rolling her eyes.
“So why don’t you believe him?” Vanora asked, trying sound nonchalant.
“Because this woman is no one’s old friend. Trust me. Plus, Sultry-and-Gorgeous was really uneasy throughout our visit. Even Alexander noticed, and he tends to be oblivious.” Sheila gradually became aware of Alisha’s uncomfortable expression and Vanora’s averted face. “Oh, I mean, maybe they were once together, but now…”
“It’s just a stupid crush,” Vanora said. “He’s a four hundred year old vampire. I’m seventeen. He’s just…”
“Obscenely hot?” Sheila suggested.
“Yeah.”
“You should totally fuck him!” Sheila plunked her heavy boots onto the floor and leaned forward. “I mean, he’s fucking hot as hell. And vampires are so good in bed. Trust me. All those years of experience. Wow. You should totally get him into bed.”
Alisha winced, shaking her head.
Vanora covered her face in embarrassment.
“You already fucked him?” Sheila sounded lost.
“No!” Vanora set her head down on the work table. “Gawd, does everyone know about my crush?”
“Yeah. Even Alexander notices and he’s-”
“Oblivious,” Vanora muttered.
“Yeah.” Sheila hesitated. “But you should still totally fuck Armando.”
“Sheila!” Alisha flung up her hands. “Stop embarrassing her.”
“She’s seventeen, for god’s sake! Back in the day she’d be an old maid!”
The door opened and Vanora lifted her head to see Alexander slip in. Dressed in tight black jeans, a Sex Pistols sleeveless t-shirt, and his long black hair hanging over his shoulders, he looked a bit like a rock god. The only thing that detracted from his beauty was the obscene scar on his neck. The mute vampire sprawled out on his partner’s lap, draping one arm over her shoulders.
“So Vanora should totally fuck Armando, right, babe?”
Alexander barely had time to nod before Roman peered in. “What about Armando?”
“He’s dating some new vampire in town,” Vanora said, hoping to divert all attention from herself and her need to cry for several hours…or maybe years.
“Huh. Maybe he’ll bring her to the Halloween Ball.” Roman looked around the studio. “Did you change something in here?”
Alisha rolled her eyes, then pointed to the massive new storage cabinet.
“That’s new?” Roman blinked, confused.
Leaning over Alexander’s arm, Sheila looked at Vanora, a conspiratorial smile on her face. “Obviously, some people have noticed certain things.”
“I knew something was different,” Roman said, frowning.
Sheila mouthed, Go for it.
Alexander nodded, agreeing.
Alisha shook her head adamantly.
“I’m not oblivious,” Roman protested, completely missing all points of the conversation.
Even Vanora laughed.
***
“Want to talk about it?”
“No.” Vanora stared through her canopy at the ceiling.
Alisha settled on the bed next to her. “Not even a little bit?”
“Nope.”
“Maybe she’s just a-”
Holding up one hand, Vanora shushed Alisha. “No.”
Biting her lower lip, Alisha struggled to not continue. It was hard to see her sister in pain and not do something about it. The desire to meddle was almost overwhelming. But wasn’t this exactly the same sort of thing that drove her nuts about Roman? Fixing her ponytail, she struggled to not say what was on the tip of her tongue. Running the words through her mind, she recognized how much she’d sound like Roman talking to her about Sin.
The mere thought of Sin made her hurt.
“Do you ever d
ream about Mom?”
Leaning back on her hands, Alisha sighed. “I used to.”
“I dreamt about Mom. On my birthday.” Vanora’s voice had an odd quality to it. It was unnerving.
“Was it a good dream?” Somehow, Alisha doubted it was.
“It was about the accident. Dad was in the car. It was on fire. But Mom was in the water, in the river. I could see that someone had stabbed her.” Tears slid down into Vanora’s hair.
Alisha felt the fine hairs on her arms and the back of her neck stand on end. “She died in the fire,” Alisha said, gently rubbing Vanora’s hand. It felt unusually cold.
“Mom was warning me about someone. She wanted to protect me from someone who was going to hurt me.” Vanora wiped at the moisture collecting along her hairline.
Alisha opened her mouth, then quickly shut it. It was best not to assume it was about Armando, if it was an actual warning.
“I’m just like her, you know. I can feel things. I can sometimes pick up what people are feeling, almost hear their thoughts. It’s like there’s this static field around me that plugs into everything and everyone. It hurts.”
Leaning over her sister, Alisha kissed her forehead. “I’m sorry, baby.” She gently combed the silky pale tresses from her sister’s face.
“If I could just control it somehow, it would make things so much easier,” Vanora continued, small hitches in her voice. “I couldn’t understand what Mom was warning me about. It’s not Armando. I know it can’t be.”
“Vanora, what happened between you and him?”
“It can’t be him,” Vanora said again. “It can’t be. Because when he kissed me I felt…”
“He kissed you?” Alisha had the strong desire to go rip Armando’s head off his shoulders and beat him with it.
Rolling over, Vanora clung to Alisha, her arms around her waist. At times like these she was more of a daughter than sister. “He cares about me. I felt his emotions. And he was afraid, too. So it can’t be him, right? He wouldn’t hurt me if he cares about me.”
Alisha thought of Sin and how much she had hurt him. She’d loved him so much and in the end she had walked away. “It’s not that simple. Love is never simple.”
In Darkness We Must Abide: The Complete First Season: Episodes 1-5 Page 25
