Vampire in the Night: In Darkness We Must Abide, #1

by Rhiannon Frater

  “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.

  40

  “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 dream 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 a 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.”

  “So what do I do?”

  “Well, I say ignore the bastard while he’s not here. Just…live your life. Go have fun. Armando is doing whatever it is he needs to do and you do the same. Maybe the dream with Mom was about a broken heart and being afraid of someone hurting you. She always took such good care of us and if she was here I know she’d say the right thing.”

  “Roman says I look like her.”

  “You do. You’re tiny-boned like she was. Bird-like. My little swan. I’m all clunky like Dad. I got that Socoli height and broad shoulders.” Alisha playfully flexed her muscles. “I am Wonder Woman!”

  Vanora sat up, a smile slowly seeping onto her lips. “What about my albinism?”

  Smoothing out Vanora’s disheveled hair, Alisha gave her a tender look. “Mom said it’s from her side of the family. Another gift to you from her.”

  “The dream, Alisha, it was so real. Like it really happened.”

  “But it didn’t. Mom and Dad never made it out of the car, Vanora. Besides, who would stab Mom? It makes no sense.”

  “She said it was because whoever would hurt me would be stopped by her. They were eliminating her to get to me.”

  “Then, I’ll stop whoever tries to hurt you.”

  “Because you’re Wonder Woman.”

  At times like these Vanora looked like a little girl again, not a young woman about to seize hold of life. “No, because I love you.”

  Much to Alisha’s relief, the conversation turned to other topics and Vanora’s tears finally faded. By the time she left her sister’s room and entered her studio, she felt exhausted, hungry, and anxious. Walking to the far side of the large room, she placed her hands on the two wall sconces and pushed. The secret hideaway slid open. Stuffed with so many paintings that Alisha never wanted anyone to see, she wasn’t even able to slip inside anymore. Her grandfather had built the secret room out of paranoia. Ironic that she now used it to hide her premonition paintings because she was just as paranoid. Carys’s powers had manifested in visions, Vanora apparently could sense emotions and had vivid dreams, but Alisha’s abilities were trapped within her artwork. She never wanted anyone to see them, but she couldn’t bear to destroy them either.

  It took a while, but she finally found the canvas she was searching for. Drawing it out, she stared at it in despair.

  It was of her mother floating in a river, fire on the far bank, and a full moon pa
rtially obscured by the silhouette of a tall, muscled man hovering before it. Closing her eyes, she pressed her hand to the center of the painting, covering the jeweled dagger she had painted. It was plunged into Carys’s chest.

  “What does it mean?” she whispered, but there was no answer.

  Her paintings were full of symbolism, parables of the truth. The figure in the sky didn’t resemble Armando. The shape reminded her much more of Sin’s tall, sleek musculature. With a sigh, she shoved it back among the other paintings. Roman would never believe her story and Vanora was already frightened enough.

  Alisha would just have to stay alert and hopefully be able to decipher what Vanora’s dream and her painting truly meant.

  41

  Halloween 2007

  Vanora rushed to the front door as soon as she heard the doorbell ring. She’d been escorting vampires into the ballroom since the party started an hour after sunset at eight. Her excuse was that she was trying to be helpful, but she was very anxious about Armando’s arrival. It was nearly nine, and most of the guests had already arrived. She was terrified that he wouldn’t actually show up, and she was certain her heart couldn’t handle that development.

  Yanking the door open, she squealed with delight.

  Sheila and Alexander stood on the threshold of the Socoli mansion. She was dressed as Bela Lugosi’s Dracula and he was Gary Oldman’s version. Sheila twirled her long satin cape, while Alexander tipped his gray top hat.

  “Great costumes!” Vanora declared as she greeted them.

  Sheila grinned. “Happy Halloween, Vanora. Glad you like the duds. Took Alexander here forever to get ready.”

  Alexander shrugged but smiled.

  “You’re really fancy! Who are you?”

  “Cinderella’s fairy godmother,” Vanora responded, modeling her opulent gown of white chiffon and silk. A tiara sparkled in her hair and she had a rhinestone wand in one hand.

  “Not Cinderella?” Sheila asked in surprise.

  “Fuck her. I want the power!” Vanora winked

  “I like your style,” Sheila said, laughing.

  “Come in! The party is in full swing.”

  Vanora steered the new guests through the foyer and down a long hallway. With great flourish, she flung open the doors to the large ballroom decorated in opulent, elegant Halloween décor. It was packed with people clad in outrageous costumes, dancing to the music blaring forth from strategically placed speakers. Roman, dressed as Zorro, gallantly strode up to his new guests to greet them.

  “Happy Halloween,” Roman said, eyeing Sheila. “Why didn’t you dress up, Sheila?”

  “Very funny, Roman.”

  Next to her, Alexander smirked.

  Roman kissed Sheila’s cheek. “Let’s just say the costume isn’t much of a stretch.”

  Sheila playfully hissed at him, baring truly fake-looking plastic fangs, then tugged Alexander toward some friends.

  Vanora smacked Roman with her wand. “You’re so mean.”

  “Eh. I have that whole anti-Dracula thing going, you know.”

  “Roman, you look like Dracula dressed as Zorro.”

  Laughing, Roman grabbed her hand and twirled her about. Vanora loved the way her skirt flowed out around her legs and sparkled in the light cast from the chandeliers. Roman spun her about a few times, then pulled her away from the edge of the dance floor.

  “Having fun, Vanora?” Roman asked, sweeping his cape back.

  Vanora nodded with delight. “Yeah, the costumes are really great.”

  Roman glanced around the room, smiling with approval. “It’s one of the best parties we’ve ever thrown.”

  “It’s almost like a movie or a soap opera. Really over the top and kinda crazy.”

  “Vampires celebrating Halloween is a bit crazy.”

  The front door chimes echoed through the house and Alisha cried out, “I’ll get the door!”

  Checking the clock on the mantel, Vanora tried not to rush after the doorbell. It had taken her hours to get ready and she wanted to look her best when Armando arrived. Though a part of her was convinced Armando would pretend nothing had ever occurred between them, she also wanted him to think she was beautiful, elegant, and mature. If she showed up at the door ruffled and acting like an anxious teenager, she’d look like a dolt.

  “So…how do you like the dress?” Vanora posed for her brother.

  Roman looked proud, yet concerned. “You’re beautiful. Like a princess bride. Though you can’t go getting married!”

  “Really? That’s what you’re going to say to me?”

  Roman kissed Vanora’s cheek fondly. “You’re my little sister. You’re little. And my sister. I may still lock you in the attic.”

  “I’m about to punch you.”

  “Where do you get this violent streak from?” Roman pretended to be horrified.

  Vanora was about to make a snappy retort when she saw Roman’s eyes light up with sudden interest. She whirled around to see what had caught his eye. A man dressed as a Venetian plague doctor stood in the doorway clad in a long black coat, wide-brimmed hat, and black mask with a long hooked beak. Though that bleak costume was impressive, it was the woman standing next to him that had caught Roman’s eye. Dressed as a fortuneteller, the woman’s raven hair and flashing black eyes were a stark contrast to the brilliant red and gold outfit that clung to her provocative curves. She observed the revelers, smiling broadly until her eyes fell on Roman, then her entire air changed. Her expression mirrored Roman’s rapture.

  “Is that Armando?” Vanora asked her stupefied brother. The fluttering in her stomach and the abrupt hitch in her breathing seemed a good indication that it was. Which meant the woman next to him was the mysterious Carlotta. The mere sight of her made Vanora want to crawl into a hole and die.

  “Let’s find out.” Roman was already moving toward the newly-arrived couple and Vanora followed in his wake.

  “Good evening, Roman,” Armando’s voice said from behind the mask as they approached.

  “Welcome, Armando. I’m glad you could make it,” her brother said grasping his friend’s hand. Roman’s eyes slid toward the bewitching woman. “And who is your lovely companion?”

  “I am Carlotta,” the woman responded as she offered her hand. “And I am so pleased to meet you.”

  Roman gallantly kissed it. “I believe the pleasure is all mine.”

  Golden eyes behind the gruesome plague mask glinted at Vanora and she slightly waved her wand. She felt like a dolt.

  “Carlotta is an old friend from times past. She recently surfaced in Houston and when I told her about you, she wanted to meet you,” Armando said by way of introduction. “She has read your works and-”

  “Enough, Armando,” Carlotta said, dismissing him with the wave of her hand. “Roman, I find your concepts intriguing. I have lived in darkness for so long, I have forgotten what it means to be mortal. Your book reminded me of the glory of mortality, and I felt so ashamed. You must help me.” Carlotta tucked her hand into the crook of Roman’s arm and stared up at him with adoring eyes.

  “Of course! I’d love to discuss my philosophies with you.” Roman was completely enraptured by the beautiful woman.

  Vanora fought the urge to roll her eyes.

  Carlotta demurely lowered her lashes. “I am so ashamed of what I have become.”

  “Please, don’t say that,” Roman objected as he slowly led her away.

  Behind his mask, Armando chuckled.

  “Who’s that?” Vanora asked falling in beside him.

  “An old friend.”

  “An old friend, huh? How old?”

  “I think around three hundred plus years,” Armando responded, gazing after Roman and Carlotta.

  “She doesn’t look it,” Vanora observed, scorn seeping into her voice. She wanted Armando to be looking at her, not at Roman and Carlotta as they made their way through the costumed revelers.

  Armando turned to regard her. “Well, I suppose. It’s a v
ampire trait.” His tone was completely serious.

  “Earth to Armando,” Vanora sighed with exasperation. “I’m making a joke here!”

  Inclining his head toward her, Armando’s muffled voice said, “I know. I’m teasing.”

  Tucking a loose curl back into her ringlets, she tried not to visibly preen in front of him. With a sinking heart, she realized that he was still watching Carlotta. In fact, most of the vampires were observing her. Alisha stood on the other side of the room dressed like Tinkerbelle with her mouth hanging open as she watched her brother openly flirt with the newcomer.

  “Sorry if I seem distracted. My attention is a bit scattered.” Armando’s accent sounded heavier than usual.

  Vanora regarded the voluptuous vampire as she clung to Roman’s arm, speaking to him animatedly. “Uh huh. I can guess where it is.”

  Armando gave her a sharp look. “We’re friends,” he said quickly.

  “Friends?” Vanora swiveled toward him, her skirt swishing around her.

  “You look lovely.”

  “You’re changing the subject.”

  “You look like the Queen of the Moon,” Armando continued.

  “Close friends?”

  Armando shrugged. “It’s a lovely dress. Are you supposed to be a queen?”

  Vanora hated that the ugly mask he wore hid his face so thoroughly. Knowing she wasn’t going to get anywhere, she obligingly went along with the change in conversation. “I’m a fairy godmother.”

  “Ah, you went for the power, huh?”

  “Absolutely!”

  “You look divine.” The amber eyes behind the mask smoldered.

  Vanora blushed and she nervously fussed with her sparkling wand. “Uh, well. Halloween!”

  “But then again, you’re always beautiful.”

  Tilting her head toward him, she felt ridiculously happy at the compliment. “You’re sweet.”