Rhiannon Frater - The Fallen King

To his surprise, she seemed more amused than peeved by his words. “Do you really want me to push you out of the car?”

Armando just grinned, noting her lack of a true answer. Then he grew somber at the sight just ahead. “The gates are open. The lack of security needs to stop.”

“Will a gate really stop a vampire?” Vanora sounded doubtful.

“No, but it may slow down a vampire’s mortal minions.”

“But not the vampire. So if a vampire wants to kill my brother, leaving a gate open isn’t going to do much.”

“You sound like Roman. Fatalistic. Is this a Socoli trait?” The last thing he wanted to hear from her was despair or defeat. Vanora was strong and a fighter. She couldn’t give up before the fight had really begun.

“I’m not fatalistic. I’m here to save my brother. I will save my brother.”

The resolve in her tone alleviated some of his worry, but Armando was too exhausted to continue the conversation. It would have to wait until later. Pulling the car up to the front of the house, he sensed the sun was hovering on the horizon. He had to sleep and soon. There was no other choice than to take refuge in the mansion. After he parked, he slumped forward, resting his head against the steering wheel. The impending sunrise was stealing away his strength and he just wanted to sleep.

“Armando, you can’t go to sleep yet.”

Armando didn’t realize he was starting to drift off until Vanora shook him.

“It’s difficult to function once the sun cracks the horizon.”

Armando could feel the sun rising. Luckily, they were shielded by the imposing mansion from the first rays of daylight. They had barely made it on time. Vanora stroked his hair, an old familiar sensation he’d wondered if he’d ever feel again. It comforted him, yet made his passion for her rise. He wished he could crawl into her bed and hold her close as he slept through the day.

“C’mon. Get out. We’re here. And when you get up, you’re going to tell me everything. I mean it. I want to know everything that you know.”

On impulse, he kissed her hand, relishing the taste of her skin. “When I awaken...” He stopped himself from continuing, realizing he wasn’t answering her question, but promising to make love to her.

“Get out before you fall asleep and I have to drag you.”

In a haze, Armando climbed from the car, helped her collect her things, and trudged to the main entrance in her wake. When she held out her hand, he laid the keys in her outstretched hand. It was then he noted she was wearing the birthday gifts he had given her. Maybe he was delirious in his sleep-deprived state, but he took it as a sign that she still loved him.

“What?” Vanora narrowed her eyes.

“It’s just good to see you home,” Armando lied, flashing a brighter smile at her.

“For now.” She unlocked the door, and shoved it open.

Vanora hesitated in the foyer.

It wounded Armando to know she was still so afraid of the vampires. “They’re asleep. Roman, Carlotta, Alisha...a few others...” The luggage slipped from his grip as he sagged against the wall. He didn’t want her to fear the others or himself. He wanted her to see he was still Armando DeLeon, a man who loved her, and not just a vampire. “I’ve missed you.”

“You need to sleep. I’ll help you to a guest room.”

Disoriented, Armando rubbed his weary eyes. “I got you home...”

“You’re nearly asleep on your feet.” Vanora slid her arm around his waist, and he leaned heavily against her. “This isn’t good! I can’t carry you.”

Fingers tracing her cheek, Armando lowered his face. “I always dream of you.” Every day, when he closed his eyes, he always saw her face. Perhaps just one little kiss. Would it be wrong to taste her lips one more time? Moving to kiss her, he saw in her eyes that she would allow it. The love that he had hoped still burned in her heart was raging in her eyes. In that moment, he realized one little kiss would not be enough. It would never be enough. “I can’t.”

The sun was higher now and his strength was almost gone. Slipping into shadow, he fled up the stairs to the rooms above. Instinct guided him to a place of safety. As he settled into the darkness that would keep him shrouded throughout the day, Armando inhaled the sweet lavender fragrance that filled Vanora’s old bedroom. His thoughts were of her when he faded into the sleep of death.

The old room was just as she remembered it, except for it being much more tidy. Obviously Miss Robbins had prepared it for her possible arrival. Tossing her bags at the end of the bed, Vanora sat on the edge of the mattress. It was like she had never left. Old perfume bottles scented the room with lavender, a comforting familiar fragrance. She discarded her shoes, then laid across the bed. As she had growing up, she stared upward through the filmy fabric of her canopy.

How many times had she laid here dreaming about Armando? How many times had she tried to imagine his kiss? His touch? It felt like a million years had passed since she had been a teenager foolishly infatuated with the mysterious, handsome man. Now she was an adult woman who was foolishly in love with a vampire. Despite all her internal admonitions, the drive home had only confirmed that she still loved Armando. She was afraid of him to some degree, but she longed for him. In the wake of Rhonda’s death, she wanted Armando’s comfort. She wanted him to hold her close and promise that somehow she would be free of the darkness that was rapidly swallowing her world. Yet, she knew that to allow Armando back into her life and arms was dangerous.

With a sigh, she shifted about on the bed until she had the pillows tucked under her head. Sleep was tugging at her eyelids, yet she was afraid to sleep. What if she dreamed of the albino vampire? Or of Roman’s death again?

Vanora opened her eyes in the world of dreams to see the ocean crashing onto the shoreline. The crescent shape of a city near a bay sparkled like diamonds as the moon dappled waves undulated below the window.

“Armando?”

When she had dreamed of this place before he had been with her, but now she was alone. The room was empty, but a darkened doorway beckoned to her. Dressed in a simple white slip dress, she shivered in the damp cold air wafting through the room. It didn’t come from the open window, but the entrance to the room.

With great reluctance, Vanora walked to the door. A single candle tucked into a bronze candlestick burned on a small table and she picked it up to light her way. The foreboding doorway called to her and she hesitantly stepped through.

The hallway was arched and made of heavy stone. Steps led downward into an even deeper darkness.

The door slammed shut behind her.

Vanora closed her eyes, shuddering at the echoing boom. Instinctively, she knew that the door wouldn’t yield to her. She had to go downward into the dark. Forcing her eyes open, her gaze fell to the steps.

“Well, this sucks,” she muttered.

The stone was cold beneath her bare feet as she cautiously descended. The stairwell ended just before a long narrow room. The candlelight danced along the arched ceiling, stone angels, and inscriptions on the tombs.

She was in the Socoli mausoleum.

“Did you really think you could escape the dark?” a deep, menacing voice whispered.

It was the vampire who had murdered Roman.

“You’re dead. I’m not,” Vanora retorted.

“You have to resist fate.”

It was her mother’s voice.

Vanora reached out to trace the name Carys on the tomb next to her. “Mom, I am trying.”

“She can’t escape. There is no escape,” another voice taunted.

A small, girlish form with blond hair slithered in and out of the light thrown by the candle.