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In Darkness We Must Abide (The Fallen King, Episode 8) Page 5


  “My, you’ve grown up and are even prettier,” Sheila said, lightly touching Vanora’s white-blond hair.

  Alexander nodded in agreement.

  “Hey, it’s Vanora!” Angel enthusiastically hugged Vanora. “You look great kid!”

  Vanora soon found herself surrounded by her old friends. The vampires greeted her with great warmth, hugging and kissing her. The experience of having such deadly creatures all about her was excruciatingly frightening. She handled her fears fairly well as she answered their questions and tried to sound like her normal self. It was difficult to keep track of Roman as more and more guests arrived. There were many more vampires than she remembered. At last she managed to slip away. Making her way through the crowd, she found Armando.

  “Where is he?” she asked.

  Armando gestured angrily to the dance floor. “With her! Dancing. Still!”

  Vanora felt chilled to her very core. It wasn’t just the wintery night air or because she was surrounded by vampires. Something far worse, far more evil, was lurking in the night, waiting to strike out at Roman. That knowledge slammed into her like a jackhammer and she gripped the table to steady herself.

  Armando instantly rose to steady her. “Vanora...”

  “It’s coming,” Vanora whispered.

  “What?” Armando’s golden gaze met her own.

  “Death...”

  “He’s gone.” Armando craned his head, searching through the crowd of partygoers.

  Carlotta was alone near the dance floor, sipping from a wine glass while speaking to several guests.

  “Go keep her occupied! I’ll find him!”

  Armando instantly rushed through the throng toward Carlotta.

  Vanora spotted Alisha talking with Sheila and pushed her past the party guests to her sister’s side. “Alisha, have you seen Roman?”

  “He was just dancing with Carlotta and...” Alisha’s eyes widened, then she looked about frantically.

  “I think I saw him go inside.” Sheila studied Vanora and Alisha’s distraught faces. “What’s going on?”

  “He’s in danger. I sense it.” Vanora was trapped in a nightmare.

  “What?” Sheila’s expression quickly changed from joyous to concerned. “What do you mean?”

  “She had a dream,” Alisha said swiftly.

  “Oh, shit.”

  “Nothing feels right, Alisha. Whatever is going to happen I feel it’s going to happen tonight.” Vanora’s body trembled while her head painfully throbbed. The urgency to find Roman was quickly becoming dire.

  “Go find him. Warn him.” Alisha stared across the pool toward the dance floor where Armando was flirting with Carlotta and attempting to get her to dance with him. Carlotta kept glancing away from him, obviously looking for Roman. “I’ll go help Armando.”

  “I’ll go check for him inside.” Vanora squeezed her sister’s hand, then hurried into the mansion.

  Most of the lights were on inside. Vanora could hear voices in the kitchen. Rushing down the hall, she fought the panic swelling within her.

  Roman stood next to the kitchen counter holding a bottle of wine in one hand while Ryan and Miss Robbins poured blood into wine decanters. They were chatting, laughing, and smiling, yet Vanora could only stare at her brother as fear bubbled up inside of her.

  “Roman,” Vanora gasped.

  Her brother cast a surprised look in her direction. “Yes? Is something wrong?”

  “Can I talk to you?”

  There was a slight puckering between Roman’s eyebrows, but he nodded. “Of course.”

  “It’s private.”

  Miss Robbins and Ryan made a point of pretending not to be listening.

  “All right.”

  Clearly mystified, Roman followed her out of the kitchen and into the dining room. The sounds of the party were far away and the night pressed up against the long windows. Vanora took a deep breath and faced Roman.

  “What’s wrong, Vanora? Is this about your friend?”

  The concern in his face made her heart throb with love and she took his cool hand in her own.

  “Roman, I had a really bad nightmare about you.” Immediately Vanora could see her brother’s annoyance, but she plunged onward. “It was very vivid and it scared me. You were dead in the dream, Roman.”

  “I am technically dead already,” Roman pointed out. He set the wine bottle down on the dining room table with a loud thunk. Tucking his hands into his trousers pockets, he regarded her with a mix of annoyance and sympathy.

  “You’re a vampire. That’s not really being dead.” Vanora met his gaze, willing him to see the truth.

  “I’m dead to the human world.” Roman gestured in the general direction of the party. “That world out there is the only one I exist in anymore. So, yes, I’m already dead.”

  “Roman, I know you don’t buy into my powers or Alisha’s-”

  “The witch stuff,” Roman said, nodding.

  “Right. But you’re a freakin’ vampire! You’re alive when you shouldn’t be! How can you not believe us?”

  With a sigh of exasperation, Roman jerked a chair out from beneath the table and sat down in it. “Vanora, all my life I’ve listened to the predictions of the women of this family. Some came true. Some didn’t. I believe that what came true was mere coincidence. Alisha shows me her paintings and gives me an interpretation. I look at those same paintings and see something entirely different. I can look at those paintings and make my prediction based off them completely true. I can’t base my life off of your fears.”

  Swallowing down the painful lump in her throat, Vanora said, “Rhonda is dead. I don’t want to lose you.”

  “Did you dream about her death?”

  The question hurt and Vanora flinched. “Yes, but I didn’t realize the meaning of the dream until she was gone.”

  Roman lightly tapped his fingers against the surface of the table. “Okay. So you didn’t know how to interpret the dream then, right?”

  “Roman, the dream I had about you was really clear! You were dead!”

  “My point, Vanora, is that your dreams are subjective. Let’s say your dream is true. I am dead. Dead to this world.”

  “You were dead before a throne!”

  That visibly started her brother, but he quickly recovered. “I’m no king.”

  “If our family hadn’t hidden our lineage from us, maybe you would have been. We are of the House Corvinus. But beyond that, Roman, you’re a king to those vampires out there!”

  “Again, two interpretations of a dream.”

  Leaning toward Roman, Vanora said, “Two vampires tried to kill me last night and Armando saved me.”

  “What?” Roman shot to his feet. “When?”

  “On the road. On my way here.”

  “You saw these vampires?”

  “I think I kinda saw one of them. Next to the road.”

  Roman’s eyes narrowed. “Armando was with you on the road?”

  Vanora nodded.

  “Armando was in Austin with you?” Her brother’s tone took a decided turn toward angry father.

  “That’s not the point.”

  “Oh, I think that is the point. Since you ran away to Austin, he has not been about that much. I thought it was guilt over what he did with you.”

  “Did with me?” Vanora exclaimed. “What does that mean?”

  “You tell me!”

  The Socoli tempers were getting the best of them and Vanora realized they were dangerously swerving off topic. “Armando brought me home to save you!”

  “So Armando is behind this!”

  “No, my dream is behind this! I dreamed you were dead. Then he came to see me and told me you were in danger. Alisha painted your death. This isn’t a coincidence!”

  “Has Armando been seeing you in Austin? Alisha told me you were seeing a human.”

  “Oh, my God, Roman! This isn’t about me and Armando! This is about you!”

  Wagging his finger in her face,
Roman said, “Armando is too old for you and he’s a vampire.”

  Vanora glared at her brother, ignoring his admonition. “Roman, this is about you! You being in danger! Armando saved my life!”

  “From vampires you didn’t see!”

  “Do you really think Armando is making stuff up? Why would he do that?”

  Roman flung up his hands. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s about you! He got you back here where he wants you!”

  “No, no, no! Armando loves you! He’s trying to save your life. He wants us to leave Houston!”

  “And he’ll go with us?” Roman shook his head with disbelief. “Our life is here, Vanora. My life is here. I’m not going to abandon it.”

  “But it’s true, Roman! There are vampires out there who don’t like what you’ve done. They’re coming for you.”

  Slamming his hands down on the table, Roman said, “I will not abandon our home! Our legacy!”

  “This isn’t about family honor, Roman,” Vanora protested.

  “Yes, it is, Vanora. The Socolis abandoned their ancestral home when the Communists took over Romania. Everything we could save is in this house. That mausoleum out there contains the bodies of our ancestors. This is our home. Our legacy.”

  “It’s just bricks and dead bodies, Roman.”

  Lifting his head, Roman stared at Vanora in disbelief. “I thought you understood.”

  “I understand that you’ve become king of your own small kingdom and you don’t want to leave it.” Vanora felt each word strike deep into her brother’s heart.

  To her surprise, Roman slowly nodded his head. “You’re right.”

  “Roman, please, let’s go. Let’s leave. Tonight. You, me, Alisha, Carlotta...”

  “Armando?” Roman’s eyes darkened at the mention the other vampire.

  Vanora nodded.

  “You and he...”

  “I love him,” Vanora said softly, averting her eyes.

  “And he loves you.” It was a statement, not a question.

  “We’re not together. He only came into my life to save you.”

  Dragging her into his arms, Roman held Vanora tenderly. “He’s too old. He’s a vampire.”

  “I know.”

  With a sigh, Roman released her. “Fine. We’ll go. Let’s finish this party for Carlotta’s sake. I’ll make preparations once it’s over. Where do you want to go?”

  “I get to choose?”

  “Yes. Choose.”

  “I guess wherever Armando says it’s safe.”

  Roman rolled his eyes. “Fine.” Plucking the wine bottle from the table, he leaned over to kiss her forehead. “I love you, Snow Pea.”

  “I love you, Roman.”

  The doorbell rang through the house.

  “I thought they knew to go to the back.” An icy finger slid along her spine.

  “It’s a new vampire. She’s a bit nervous. We’ve been corresponding by email and I invited her to come out tonight. That way she can meet everyone.” Roman strode out into the main hallway. “She’s a bit different from all the other vampires.”

  Following her brother as he strode toward the front door, Vanora’s hands began to tremble. Dread consumed her and she reached out to grab his arm. “How is she different?”

  “It’s a sad story, “Roman answered as his hand settled on the door handle. “She was made into a vampire at a young age.”

  “No!” Vanora screamed as he brother’s thumb pressed down on the lever.

  The door swung open revealing a diminutive blond girl dressed in a white lace dress and white granny boots.

  “Lorelei, you made it,” Roman said warmly.

  “Greetings, Roman,” the girl answered, her big eyes shining brightly in the light from the chandelier.

  “Don’t let her in!” Vanora cried out, surging forward.

  Lorelei’s eyes instantly narrowed.

  “Vanora?” Roman stood with his hand outstretched to welcome the vampire inside.

  Barely able to draw a breath, Vanora whispered, “She’s one of them.”

  “Someone’s been using her witch powers to spy,” Lorelei said, her lips forming a snarl.

  Surprise registered on Roman’s face a split second before Lorelei grabbed his hand, wrenched him through the doorway, and vaulted upwards, carrying him with her.

  The wine bottle crashed to the steps and exploded into a fountain of red liquid and glass.

  Vanora screamed.

  ***

  As Armando approached Carlotta through the vampires clustered along the edge of the pool near the temporary dance floor, he saw the gypsy’s gaze dart toward him. With a charming laugh, she squeezed the arm of the woman she was talking to, then excused herself to walk in the opposite direction of Armando. He immediately shifted into a dark mist, rushed through the partygoers, and rematerialized before her, blocking her way.

  “Ugh!” Carlotta threw up her hands at him. “I hate it when you do that!”

  Catching her by the wrist, Armando tugged her onto the dance floor and away from the others.

  “What do you want?” Carlotta demanded.

  “To dance with an old friend,” Armando answered with a flirtatious smile.

  “I need to find Roman,” Carlotta sniffed, though his answer had pleased her. She loved drama and Armando playing the resentful ex-lover pleased her.

  Sweeping Carlotta into his arms, Armando drew her into a slow dance. “He can survive without you hanging on his arm for a little while.”

  “Jealous?” Carlotta’s finely sculpted eyebrows rose playfully.

  “Me? Jealous? Of you?” Armando lifted a shoulder in a shrug, but gave her a smoldering look. He knew Carlotta’s vanity would never allow her to believe he wasn’t longing for her. If it would keep her dancing with him and away from Roman so Vanora could speak to her brother, Armando would play along.

  “Oh, dear Armando, you know that it was never that way between us,” she said, fingers tracing down his cheek. “We had passion and lust, but never love.”

  “And it’s love between you and Roman?” It was difficult for him to think of Carlotta loving anyone but herself.

  Surprisingly, her usual haughtiness and arrogance melted from her features as Carlotta nodded. “Very much so. He is...” She faltered, her dark eyes shockingly glinting with tears. Regaining her composure, she said, “I have never loved anyone before. It’s terrifying. I would do anything for him.”

  Losing his jealous façade, Armando drew her closer. “Carlotta, Aeron is coming...”

  “I know.” She lifted her chin, her eyes bright. “But Roman is safe. I’ve seen to it.”

  Armando gazed at her doubtfully. “Aeron will start a purge.”

  “Yes, but Roman is safe,” Carlotta insisted. “I spoke with Aeron personally and begged him to spare Roman.”

  “And he agreed?”

  Nodding her head, Carlotta smiled brightly. “Oh, yes, he did. I asked him not to kill Roman because I have found love and happiness. He said he wouldn’t.”

  The music took a decidedly darker turn and Armando glanced over to see Alexander had taken over the deejay equipment.

  “Aeron won’t kill Roman, Armando. His vow is sacrosanct,” Carlotta insisted, though there was a slight tremor of fear in her words.

  “With your very own ears you heard him say he will not kill Roman?” Armando faltered in their dance. Would Aeron truly spare the Socoli?

  “Yes.” Carlotta’s red lips spread into a beautiful smile. “He did. He never breaks his word.”

  Armando pressed a kiss to her cheek. “I wish you happiness, Carlotta.”

  “I am happy,” she answered.

  With a slight bow, Armando excused himself and hurried through the party. Stepping into the shadows, he gathered his thoughts. Aeron had promised not to kill Roman, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t have someone who served him do the deed. Carlotta had obviously not considered that possibility. Whenever Aeron began a purge he always killed the leader
first. Aeron was most likely still in transit from Europe, but Lorelei was in Texas.

  Vanora had to convince Roman to leave tonight. There was no time to squander. Frustration ate at him as Armando considered all the possibilities of what could occur. Glancing toward the house, he wondered if he should try to help Vanora convince Roman, but then realized his presence would most likely complicate the situation. Checking his watch, he decided to give Vanora ten more minutes before he would seek the siblings out.

  Glancing toward Alisha, he saw she was watching him with a worried look pressed onto her features. He knew his expression mirrored hers.

  Again checking his watch, Armando ignored the dread seeping into his bones.

  Somehow, they would save Roman.

  * * *

  Unable to breathe, unable to think, Vanora stood on the threshold of her home staring into the dark night. Her throat was pinched closed. Wordlessly, she called out to her sister.

  Alisha! Come!

  Resting her trembling hands on the doorway, Vanora struggled to contain her terror and panic. The girl from her dreams was real and she’d taken Roman. Fumbling with her collar, Vanora drew out her mother’s Celtic cross. It glowed softly between her fingers. Warmth and power emanated from the bit of silver granting her strength. Though terrified, Vanora stepped out onto the front steps. The light from the hallway spilled out onto the gravel drive below and she was reluctant to leave the lit area. Vanora’s car was still parked on the drive, the fresh dew sparkling on its dark surface. It was much colder outside, away from the heat lamps, and the air was damp and smelled of mold. It reminded her of the mausoleum.

  Coughing to clear her throat, Vanora craned her head to gaze upward. High above her, teetering on the edge of the roof, was the vampire girl.

  “Give me back my brother,” Vanora demanded hoarsely.

  “What was that?” came the taunting reply. “I can’t hear you.”

  “Give me back my brother!”

  Though the shadows hid the vampire’s face, Vanora could see the gleam of her red eyes as she gazed down at her.

  “Oh, you want your brother back?”