In Darkness We Must Abide: The Complete Third Season Page 15

  “Armando, I love you. With all my heart. Though the universe is conspiring against me, I will fight to be with you.”

  “I am not yours. You are not mine.” Armando sighed, running one hand through his messy curls. “I always knew this. When Aeron told me that you were destined to be his Queen, I assumed he meant in the same way his current wife, Mirrah, is his queen. I never, ever dreamed that it was so much more. I used to be so furious that he was treating me like a babysitter for his newest obsession. Now I realize he entrusted me with the one thing he holds most dear in the entire universe other than his own white ass.” Armando laughed bitterly, shaking his head.

  Vanora let him talk, recognizing he had to work through this situation. It was awful, and the heaviness of the magic weighed on her, choking her. How must he feel?

  Resting his cold palm against Vanora’s cheek, he peered into her eyes. “He trusted me to take care of you until the time came to deliver you to him. He believed I would protect you and never betray him. I loved him for centuries, Vanora. He was my brother, my father, my dearest friend. At his side, I found solace in the violence and war. It allowed me to not hurt. To not mourn my wife or dead child. It let me be cruel. There was solace in the cruelty. I want to be cruel now.” Armando’s fingers trembled against her cheek. “I want to be angry. I want to take you to him and throw you at his feet and be done with all this. To not feel this pain.”

  A sob escaped her lips and Vanora said, “I’m so sorry. I don’t want to hurt you.”

  “It’s too late. You’ve cut me to the core. I was foolish. I fell in love with you and betrayed Aeron and myself. If I had only obeyed him, then I could take you to him and not care. Not feel this despair.”

  Resting her fingers against his hand, Vanora said, “I don’t want to be with him. I want to be with you.”

  “We’ve destroyed you, Vanora. Aeron and I. And the Fates. And whoever else created this fucking situation. We took a girl full of goodness and light and filled her with our darkness.”

  Unleashing her magic, Vanora let Armando see the white light tracing beneath her skin. “No, Armando, I’m filled with light.”

  Armando took a sharp step back, clearly unnerved, but enraptured.

  The magic inside her was warm and felt like bubbles gliding through her veins. It was a pleasant sensation, but she understood that the manifestation was just one more confirmation that she was doomed to play her part in the coming battle against Aeron.

  “It’s brighter than last night,” Armando whispered. “You’re stronger than last night.”

  Vanora nodded. “Yes, I am. Armando, I can destroy Aeron. I just need time. We have to hide until I can figure out a way to kill him. I want us to go into hiding together.”

  “I’ll betray you,” Armando rasped. “I’m struggling to not seize you and take you to him. You have no idea how hard it is to stand here and not obey him.”

  Rubbing her lips together, Vanora tried to form the words in her mind before speaking aloud. She didn’t want to spook Armando any more than she already had. “I share Aeron’s soul. I have the power of his mother. I believe I can remove the edict.”

  Armando stumbled back from her and sat down hard on the edge of his bed. Gaping at her, he set his hands on his knees as though to steady his trembling hands. Was it a response to her revelation? Or was it the result of his battle against Aeron’s edict?

  “Can you?” Armando finally asked.

  Vanora sucked in a sharp breath, then nodded. With her power manifesting, she could actually see the threads of the edict wrapped around Armando’s head. It resembled black cords with long wicked thorns puncturing his temple. “Yes, I do.”

  Rubbing his palms against his knees, Armando didn’t take his eyes from her. “You’ve changed so much in such a little time.”

  “I’m still me,” Vanora said, but his comment still inflicted pain. “I’m still the girl you love.” Maybe it was selfish, but she wanted him to assure her of his love and faith in her. “You do love me, right?”

  “The edict is interfering with my thoughts. It’s hard to focus.” Armando snarled with disgust. “I look at you and I want...to take you to him.”

  “Then let me try to remove the edict,” Vanora urged. “Because if you try to take me to him, I will fight you. I don’t want to fight you, Armando.”

  “If you share his soul, will you have power over me and his other children?” Armando visibly shuddered.

  “I don’t know. And I wouldn’t really know how to impose it. Undoing the edict seems more plausible than trying to impose one.” Vanora raised her hand and lightly touched the blackness of the edict.

  Armando gripped her about the waist with both hands. “I felt that.” His fingers twitched against her sweater. Did he want to seize her to drag her away, or was he seeking comfort?

  “Let me try...” Vanora whispered. The cold, ugly, slimy sensation of the edict beneath her fingers revolted her, but she wanted to free Armando.

  “Do it,” Armando finally answered. Resting his head against her chest, he submitted to her power.

  Vanora took hold of the edict with both hands. Afraid, but determined, she started to drag the thorns of the edict out of the man she loved.

  Aeron kicked the bodies of the human he had drained to one side and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Glutted, he relished the sensation of the blood restoring his strength and life. The feeding hadn’t been very exciting. His servants had brought him some humans held captive in Aeron’s haven, so the thrill of the hunt had been missing. He’d decided to meet his wife upon her arrival, so he’d willingly chosen to stay and wait for her.

  Lorelei sat on the steps leading to his white marble throne clad in a white lace dress, white ankle boots, and white leather jacket with her golden hair twisted into knots on either side of her head. She was fully healed from the night before and the blood she’d consumed added a rosy glow to her cheeks. Blood stained her lips red, and he leaned over to kiss a drop from the corner of her mouth.

  Lorelei stuck out her tongue at him.

  Chuckling, Aeron sprawled on the steps next to her. His servants dragged out the drained bodies while a maid quickly washed the blood away. Outfitted in white leather pants and a white silk shirt, Aeron was barefoot. He had considered dressing up a bit more, but opted against it. Mirrah didn’t merit such an honor.

  Aeron’s favorite daughter sat next to him in silence, her tiny hands clasped together. He’d adored Lorelei since he first saw her slicing the throat of a man who tried to sexually accost the homeless girl. Even after the man collapsed, Lorelei had kept hacking at him to make sure he was deceased. When Aeron had seized the human girl, intent on making her one of his own, she’d done her best to cut his heart out. He adored her.

  Though some of his court suspected Lorelei was his lover, Lorelei refused to be touched sexually by anyone. Furthermore, Aeron had never been interested in her in such a manner. She was a child in his eyes. As far as Aeron was concerned, Lorelei was his daughter in every way but by mortal blood.

  Turning her head, Lorelei frowned. “Can I kill her?”

  “No.” Aeron answered.

  “I hate her.”

  “I know.”

  “Promise me you hate her now.”

  “I hate her now,” Aeron assured Lorelei.

  “Because when you loved her, I hated you.”

  “I know.”

  Aeron regretted ever being besotted with Mirrah. In the haze of infatuation, he’d allowed his queen too much leeway. It had hurt Lorelei deeply to be shunted off to the side and left to her own devices while Aeron had been distracted. Mirrah had later attempted to send Lorelei away with the excuse that she’d be better utilized seeking out the rogue vampires who’d escaped previous purges. That was when Aeron had finally shaken off his wife’s influence and recognized her jealousy. Of all his children, Aeron loved only two like his own flesh and blood: Armando and Lorelei. For that reason, Mirrah hated both.
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br />   Resting her head against his shoulder, Lorelei sighed. “I want to cut off her head.”

  “I know, little one.” Aeron wrapped one arm around her slender shoulders and snuggled her into his side. “Don’t fret. Mirrah hasn’t had power over me in a very long time.”

  “But what about when she comes? Will she have power over you?”

  The thought of Vanora at his side thrilled Aeron and filled him with hope. Their time was soon. “Vanora will not hurt you because I love you. She will love what I love.” Aeron had yet to explain the entire story about Vanora to Lorelei, but he knew he needed to very soon. Lorelei often fell to mercurial moods, so Aeron always kept her focused on one task at a time. “It will be different with Vanora. I swear it.”

  Lorelei looked doubtful. “I didn’t care for her much when I watched over her. So boring. So mundane.”

  “That was before she awakened to her true role,” Aeron assured Lorelei.

  “Whatever.”

  The doors to the throne room were open and revealed the long corridor beyond it. Candlelight flickered along the walls. Mirrah’s ship had docked during the day, so he knew she would soon arrive. A part of him missed the days when he’d loved her, but he also loathed how enslaved he’d been by her wiles. Now that Vanora was in his life once more, he was suffering pangs of remorse for having called another wife.

  The door on the far end of the corridor swung open.

  “She’s here,” Lorelei muttered sarcastically. “Yay.”

  When Mirrah appeared at the far end, Aeron noted how lovely she looked in the light. Long black hair falling in thick curls down to her waist, she wore a dark blue dress that clung to her curves and impossibly high heels that clicked when she walked. Behind her strode the Brides dressed in matching white dresses that hugged their bodies provocatively. At some point in the past, each of the women had caught his interest long enough for him to make them a Bride. Though they were all lovely and he still occasionally crawled into their beds, they didn’t hold the allure they once had. Mirrah was very jealous but only of those he actually cared for, so the Brides weren’t a threat.

  Aeron considered not rising when Mirrah entered the throne room, but decided to mind his manners. Gliding to his bare feet, he tucked his hands into the pockets of his leather trousers and waited for her at the base of the throne.

  Mirrah’s red lips slid into a bright smile as she strode up to him. “My king.”

  “My queen,” Aeron answered, leaning over to press his lips against hers.

  Mirrah clung to him and kissed him with a savagery that reminded him why he’d loved her so much. She was intoxicating. “We come victorious. The last of Lampado’s children are dead. They no longer prowl the streets of Prague.”

  “Well done, as always.” Aeron touched one of her ebony curls. The silky softness enthralled him. If Vanora wasn’t joining him so soon, he’d be tempted to sleep with Mirrah one last time.

  Mirrah pressed her body against his, soft and beguiling. “I live to please you.”

  The silent Brides filled the space around them. Thirty in all, the women were from every race and all breathtakingly beautiful, yet Aeron found himself even more disenfranchised from them than ever before. Only Mirrah stirred any remaining passion in him.

  Mirrah cast a dark look Lorelei’s way.

  Lorelei flashed a wide, fake smile.

  “I see your little one is still lurking about.”

  Aeron stepped away from Mirrah, brushing her hands off his flesh. “I don’t have time for your pettiness.”

  Rolling her eyes, Mirrah set one hand on the swoop of her hip. “Will you take offense if I ask where Armando is?”

  “He’s doing my bidding,” Aeron replied.

  “I heard that you finally killed that annoying little do-gooder he was hanging about.” Mirrah’s pale blue eyes studied Aeron thoughtfully. “I don’t know what took you so long to kill him.”

  “Everything to its own time,” Aeron answered dismissively.

  For years, Mirrah had waged war on a separate front against the Seven Sisters. She had killed Lampado with her own hands and delivered her blood to Aeron. It was one of the reasons Aeron had loved her so much for so long. She’d outlasted all his other queens by centuries. There had even been a time when Aeron had been so enamored with his warrior queen, he had almost abandoned his quest to find Vanora. But now that he’d seen his future bride and queen, Aeron could no longer hold Mirrah in the same regard he once had. She was a pale imitation of the woman who would soon sit at his side. In that moment, he felt the last embers of the love he’d had for Mirrah extinguish.

  The Brides remained unmoving around him, statues of elegance and beauty. He barely remembered their names. They were truly Mirrah’s now.

  Mirrah’s eyes narrowed. “What’s wrong? Why are you so...cold?”

  “He’s always been cold, Mirrah. You just ignored it.” The familiar voice was jovial, but a tad cutting.

  Aeron rose to his full height as the broad-shouldered man with golden brown skin and thick wavy dark hair entered the throne room. Though he wore modern clothing, Pólemos, the War Wolf, had the bearing of an ancient warrior. Flashing a wide, mocking smile, Pólemos came to stand at Mirrah’s side. Before Leto had joined Aeron’s cause, Pólemos had been the mightiest of the werewolves fighting on his side.

  “My loyal wolf,” Aeron said with affection, and clapped Pólemos on the shoulder. The werewolf’s skin was fiercely warm against his palm.

  “My king,” Pólemos answered. “I have returned your queen.”

  Mirrah shook her head. “I have returned with your pet wolf at my side.”

  Pólemos deliberately stepped from Mirrah’s side to Aeron’s, clearly shifting his allegiance. Aeron had given Pólemos and his wolves to Mirrah for her battle against Lampado. He had a feeling that Mirrah had used Pólemos for more than just battle. Pólemos loved conquering both men and women in combat and in bed. At one point, the thought of Mirrah bedding Pólemos would have incensed Aeron, but now he didn’t care. The long war against the Seven Sisters was over at last, and Aeron was prepared for the world to change once more. The promises of his mother’s prophecies had compelled him through years of frustration, bloodshed, and violence. He stood on the threshold of his destiny, and at last, his patience had worn thin.

  Vanora should be at his side, not Mirrah.

  “Houston is burning. The last of the rogue vampires will be purged, then we will move on to cleanse the rest of this continent,” Aeron said, then returned to the steps where Lorelei still lounged. Instead of sitting at her side, he sat upon the white marble throne. Pólemos took up his place at the base of the dais while Lorelei moved to stand at Aeron’s side, one small hand resting on the armrest.

  “Where is my throne?” Mirrah was not foolish and her expression revealed her trepidation.

  Aeron gestured vaguely. “It is in storage still. You were not here, so it has not been moved yet.”

  “I see. Well, see that it is set up.” Her words were clipped with annoyance. “Where are the chambers for me and the Brides?”

  “Lorelei, please escort the queen to her new chambers and make certain her luggage is delivered.” Aeron pinned Lorelei with a warning look.

  “Fine.” Lorelei scowled as she hopped down the stairs and motioned for the other women to follow her.

  Mirrah hesitated near the bottom step. “I expect to see you later so we can have a more personal reunion.”

  “I will be there,” Aeron assured her, then flashed his most seductive smile.

  Satisfied, Mirrah followed after Lorelei.

  The Brides trailed behind her.

  Pólemos shifted about on his feet to look up at Aeron. “It is good to see you again.”

  “And I am pleased you are here. You and your war wolves will be needed.”

  “Does my mother not satisfy your needs?” Pólemos smirked.

  “She tends to do things at her own leisure,” Aeron said vaguely.<
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  “Age has weighed her down,” Pólemos agreed. “She doesn’t understand the urgency of our war.”

  “She’s out searching for the last remnants of Roman’s vampires, so at least she’s enjoying the hunt.”

  “I’m still amazed that you trust her.”

  “I trust only a few, Pólemos. She’s not one of the few. Not yet. Though she’s been a formidable ally thus far.”

  Leto was a goddess, and for that reason, Aeron wanted her at his side. Yet, gods and goddesses could be duplicitous creatures. He wanted to believe her support was unwavering, yet he couldn’t afford to not regard her with some suspicion.

  “I need you to go to the Socoli Mansion with your war wolves and see if you can track Alisha Socoli. She escaped last night. The mansion is in ruins, but if anyone can pick up her scent, I know you can.”

  Pólemos nodded. “Very well. Lorelei already emailed me all the pertinent information.”

  Aeron chuckled. “How far we’ve come, old friend.”

  “From the battlefields of ancient Rome...” Pólemos was already tapping away at his iPhone “...to this.”

  “It’s merely magic of another sort,” Aeron decided. “When you find Alisha Socoli, do not kill her. Bring her to me.”

  “And anyone with her?”

  “Kill them.”

  “Do you think Vanora will be with her?”

  Aeron sighed wearily. “I doubt it. That damn incubus is probably going to try to flee the city with Vanora.”

  The War Wolf glanced at Aeron. “Why doesn’t Vanora come to you?”

  “She regards me as her enemy.”

  “Well, you did kill her brother and burn her home to the ground.”

  Years before, Pólemos had suggested kidnapping Vanora and having her raised by people of Aeron’s own choosing. Aeron had rejected the idea, fearful that his enemies would then target Vanora. Instead, he’d sent Armando to watch over her. It had seemed like the wise thing to do, but he wondered if he had waited too long to reveal himself to Vanora. She was now a formidable woman who regarded him as her enemy. When he’d seen the fear in her eyes in Carlotta’s home, it had wounded him. Yet, Aeron had to believe that once they were together Vanora would lose her fears and embrace him as she once had in his dreams.