The Fallen King

The Fallen King In Darkness We Must Abide - 8 by Rhiannon Frater

To my mother, for always believing in me.

Nostalgia gripped Vanora as her car wound through the neighborhood where she had spent so many happy times with Rhonda. Her best friend was gone and with her so was Vanora’s tether to the life she had created in Austin. Though her aunt and uncle had offered her a place to stay, she couldn’t risk their lives. They had the luxury of having a home, family, and love. She couldn’t bear the thought of her presence ripping that away.

The darkness that Roman had set free when he’d unchained the moldering coffin he had brought home from Romania had swept into her life with the crushing weight of a tidal wave. She was drowning and wondered if there could ever be any escape. Yet, she knew she wouldn’t stop fighting to break free.

The light pooling at the base of the street lamps illuminated the wet asphalt. The lighted path beckoned her toward the downtown area. She couldn’t leave Austin without one last sweep through its heart. Turning her car onto Congress Avenue, she drove toward the glowing visage of the Texas State Capitol building. The pink granite appeared ivory in the glow of the spotlights. The downtown skyscrapers stood like sentinels along Congress Avenue, their glittering glass facades and windows reflecting the lights of the busy city.

Tears lingered in her eyes, but Vanora refused to let them fall. She didn’t want to hold onto the sad memories, and instead tried to concentrate on the good. As Vanora circumvented the grand building and headed toward the University of Texas, she felt her chest tighten.

Soon after Rhonda had moved to Austin, the two friends had walked all around the capitol and downtown area, giggling. The two friends had hopped onto a bus, rode around the capitol complex, then disembarked on The Drag. Strolling along the line of shops and restaurants while gazing at the University of Texas bordering the other side of the street, they had made grand plans for their intertwined futures. Everything from scheduling classes on the same days to possibly moving to somewhere fabulous like New York or Paris after graduation had been discussed, dreamed about, and plotted.

Of course, real life had revealed those grandiose plans to be nothing more than daydreams. Their friendship had remained as they endured their share of ups and downs, but Vanora had cherished every second. Rhonda had been more than just her best friend. She had been the anchor to a life that wasn’t filled with vampires, death, and fear. Vanora had been able to finally live a life that was free of all the darkness that had nearly drowned her.

Or had she?

As Vanora steered her little sedan along Guadalupe, the university loomed over the strip of street that was dubbed The Drag. She shivered inwardly in spite of her determination to not let her thoughts dwell on the maudlin and horrific. The darkness caught in the swaying boughs of the trees lining the road brought to mind a spider’s web wiggling with terrified bugs caught in its fine silk.

“Okay, get your head out of morbid town,” Vanora chastised herself.

It was to be expected that she’d be unnerved by the events of the last few days, but she had to keep her head together. Yes, there were forces at work that she did not fully understand, but it wouldn’t do her a bit of good to freak out just because the shadows in the trees appeared a little too dark. She had to remain focused and strong. Dealing with her brother was not going to be a difficult task. Roman was very stubborn, a Socoli trait, but she was determined to wear him down. She wasn’t sure where they could go to be safe, but her dreams and Armando’s warnings had convinced her that she had to persuade her brother to flee Houston.

“Oh, Rhonda,” Vanora sighed. All their dreams born in youthful hope were shattered and strewn across the city, tangled in the fabric of her memories.

There was no solace to be found.

Guadalupe Street merged into Lamar Boulevard. It was a route she had taken with Rhonda often in the past. The city did contain fond memories, but it was difficult to unearth them beneath the thick fog of her emotions. Austin was a foreign land to her now. Its familiarity was already weighted down with the past. It wasn’t home anymore and she felt that truth keenly.

As she took a right past the Half-Priced Books where she and Rhonda had spent hours scrounging for novels, her fingers gripped the steering wheel ever tighter. The cold air and humidity formed a mist over the road and fogged up the edges of her windows. The quiet of the night enshrouded her and she flipped on the radio just to escape the silence.

When she at last nudged her car onto the on ramp that would put her on course for Houston, she released a long exhalation. It was a relief to be on the road at last, yet she feared what awaited her at the end of her journey.

As the car left the city lights in its wake, the little vehicle was swallowed into the night.

* * *

Armando was both amused and annoyed by Vanora’s little trip down memory lane as her little sedan slipped through the streets of downtown Austin. Keeping pace with the vampire tracking her was easy enough. The vampire had the presence of someone younger and not nearly as powerful as Armando. Althea’s progeny was so intent on Vanora that he didn’t appear to detect Armando’s presence.

The fact that the vampire was so young was shocking. It indicated that all of Althea’s powerful vampires must have remained behind to battle Aeron and died with her and Parthenia. Though Vanora’s stalker had the aura of a vampire over a hundred years old, he was a mere babe compared to most of the vampires created by the last of the Seven Sisters and her lover. Althea had to have been very desperate to impart her final revenge on one of the youngest of her creations.

Moving swiftly through the night, Armando was a mere shadow flickering along the ground. Infused with the blood of many mortal victims (though he had been careful not to take a life), he was at full power. At each stop light he paused in the gloom surrounding buildings or trees, cloaking himself as the assassin did the same. It was obvious Althea’s man was waiting for Vanora to leave the city limits before he attacked. The closer her little car crept to the outskirts of town, the easier it was for Armando to track him.

Since it was the middle of the night, the traffic was light and soon Vanora’s car was the lone vehicle on the long stretch of highway. As the pale illumination of the city lights against the overcast sky diminished, Armando prepared himself for the inevitable attack.

Vanora’s car was just past the small town of Manor when Armando sensed a powerful presence at his back. Hurtling himself into a tree, he hunkered among the limbs and hid himself further in the shelter of his power. Below, a shadow shifted against the inky backdrop of the night. After a slight pause, a woman with masses of red hair emerged from the murk and peered up at him.

“You can’t hide from me Armando,” she said in her Scottish brogue, smirking.

“Nelly,” Armando whispered.

Older than Armando, Althea’s favored offspring was a true threat. Armando realized now he had been lured into a trap. The male vampire must be Robert, Nelly’s companion.

With a wild grin of delight, Nelly leaped into the air and kicked the trunk of the tree in which he was perched. There was a loud crack as it splintered apart. Armando threw himself clear of the branches, landing lightly on the highway below.

“Babysitting for Aeron?” Nelly teased, standing with her feet apart.

“Still doing your dead mistresses’ dirty work?” Armando made a point of adjusting the cuffs of his leather jacket and pretending not to be threatened by her, though he continued to watch her through long his lashes.

Nelly’s green eyes flared red. “Your murdering bastard of a creator will die at my hands.”

Clasping his hands before him, Armando settled his amber gaze on her. “We both know that won’t happen.”

Taking a sharp step forward, Nelly glowered at Armando, her power beating against him like dark waves.