 
# Vampire in the Night

## In Darkness We Must Abide, #1

## Rhiannon Frater

# Contents

Part I

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Part II

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Part III

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Part IV

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Part V

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Chapter 45

Chapter 46

Chapter 47

Chapter 48

Epilogue

Also by Rhiannon Frater

About the Author
In Darkness We Must Abide

Book 1

by Rhiannon Frater

Copyright 2013 - 2020. All Rights Reserved.

Cover art and design by KDS Cover Concepts

Interior formatting by Kody Boye Publishing Services

Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored, or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form, or by any means (electronically, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise) without the proper written permission of the copyright owners, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

This book is a work of fiction. People, places, events and situations are the product of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or historical events, is purely coincidental.
_To my mother, for always believing in me._

# Part I

**_Present Day_**

_With his presence still sizzling on her skin and his amber eyes still haunting her thoughts, Vanora pondered the words that Armando had spoken in his silky Spanish accent._

_You must go home, he had said._

_Hugging herself, she gazed into the darkness surrounding her, wondering if Armando still lingered in the shadows observing her. That he had sought her out both thrilled and terrified her. When she had first seen him standing on the lighted path of her apartment complex, the mere sight of his enigmatic smile had set her heart aflutter. But now that he had slipped back into the darkness, her heart beat with fear._

_Could she go back to Houston and face all she had run from? Could she forget the evils she had witnessed on her eighteenth birthday? Could she just abandon the life she had meticulously created for herself over the last two years and return to the mansion that was haunted by death and pain?_

_You must go home._

_Armando's words echoed in her mind._

_Vanora lifted a hand to brush away her white-blonde hair and turned to face the aqua waters of the swimming pool that glimmered in the moonlight._

_To go home meant she would at last cast aside her trepidation and face the monsters of her nightmares. Was she strong enough to do so? Was she strong enough to go home and save the ones she loved?_

_With a surrendering sigh, she admitted to herself that it was time to return to her childhood home. It was difficult to concede, but her reluctance to return was partially because she feared allowing Armando into her life once more. Though the creatures that dwelled in the darkness were terrifying, it was Armando who surely frightened her._

_Only he could truly steal away her heart and soul..._

# 1

**_Ten Years Earlier_**

**_2001_**

Under dreary, somber skies, Death arrived that Winter morning to claim their souls. Shrouded in the darkness of a rotting coffin, a soulless evil slumbered in silence, waiting for the night.

A dark and musty gloom had settled heavily over the Socoli Estate with the arrival of the dead. Cold rain drizzled off black umbrellas, as dark figures trudged solemnly beside the long line of ancient coffins. Adding to the dismal scene was the destination of the mourners: a grotesquely Gothic mausoleum newly erected on the estate grounds.

From behind a rain-streaked window of the Socoli Mansion, a young child watched the procession below with morbid fascination. Riveted by the grim scene, young Vanora Socoli hummed while dragging her tiny, very pale fingers through the condensation decorating the cold glass panes. Her ghostly reflection peered back at her and she stuck out her tongue at the girl in the window.

Pale white-blond curls fell neatly to the collar of her black velvet dress and framed a heart-shaped face decorated with big eyes fringed with long whitish lashes. Though Vanora strenuously claimed her eyes were blue, they actually purple in hue, a trait of her albinism.

All morning the family had been gathering for this event and she had hoped to be among them since the sun was nowhere to be seen, but she had been banished to the playroom by her older sister. Vanora scowled. She hated being treated like a little kid even if she _was_ a little kid.

Roman Socoli, her much older half-brother, had worked very hard to bring the dead Socolis to Houston, Texas. Even though Vanora did not fully understand why he had felt obligated to do so, she felt proud that he had succeeded in his task, even if it meant he had brought home a bunch of creepy dead people.

Vanora returned her gaze to the ceremony and watched until she saw the heavy door of the mausoleum close behind the dead and the priest gave his final blessing. Emulating the dark shapes of her family below, the little girl genuflected, then hopped off of her perch on the window seat. The ten-year-old hurried along the darkened hallway to the stairs and sat on the top step to wait for her brother and sister to return from the funeral. Watching the front door expectantly, Vanora chewed on her thumbnail. Her sister had painted her nails a soft pink color the night before, but most of the lacquer was gnawed off.

The heavy door swung open a few minutes later and Alisha Socoli entered, shaking the rain from her umbrella.

"Hello," Vanora said.

"Sweetie, what are you doing sitting there? I thought you were watching _Dracula Bites Frankenstein_ or something like that." Even wet and cold from the rain, Alisha was beautiful. She was tall and slim with a delicate face framed with gold hair and graced with soulful blue eyes.

"I wanted to see the coffins," Vanora said pointedly.

"Ugh! Little girls should be playing with dolls, not watching funerals in their own backyard. Why Roman ever wanted to bring all the dead Socolis from the estate in Romania I'll never understand." Alisha visibly shuddered.

"Family owner, that's what he told me."

"That's family honor, Snow Pea," Alisha corrected, her somber expression cracking under a smile. Again she shivered, sweeping a hand through her blond hair.

"Are you scared?" Vanora asked, tilting her head.

"Scared?" Alisha blinked in surprise but appeared to actually ponder the question. "No, no. Roman did the right thing. I just..." She shrugged dismissively.

"Just what?" Vanora persisted.

"I'm famished." Alisha held out her hand. "Let's get a piece of chocolate cake."

"Yay!" Slipping off the step, Vanora gripped her sister's damp, cool hand and walked alongside her toward the kitchen. "At least they can't come and get us.

"Snow Pea, what a horrible thing to say!" Alisha shivered. "Ugh!"

"Did you see _Night of the Living Dead_? It was so _gross_! All these dead people, all green and gross, climb out of their graves and start eating _people_. And they walk like this," Vanora twisted her body and hobbled along. "Brains! Brains! I need brains!"

"Will chocolate cake do, zombie person?" Alisha asked, rolling her eyes.

"Sure, _if_ it has brain frosting." Vanora pushed open the kitchen door and hopped in with a flourish.

"That's it! I don't think I should let you watch any more horror movies. You're awful!"

"Oh, I think she's an angel," Roman Socoli declared walking up behind them. A handsome man in his early thirties, he had dark thick hair and striking gray eyes. He swept his youngest sister up into his arms. "I saw you watching from the window."

"I wanted to see the coffins." Vanora played with the small cross pin on his tie.

Roman laughed. "Really? Did you find them exciting?"

"Nah. I couldn't really see them. Stupid ol' rain made it hard to see."

"The old ones are at peace now. It was important to bring them here before the government in Romania destroyed the old Socoli Estate. Family honor is very important, Vanora. I want you to always remember that. A family must stay strong and protect each other. That's why Alisha and I have raised you since our father and your mother died in that horrible accident. We Socolis always take care of each other." Roman grinned and kissed Vanora's forehead. "And we also took you in because you were too weird for the people at the orphanage."

"Really?" Vanora eyed him skeptically as he set her down. She didn't truly believe him, but he looked a little serious.

Alisha glanced up from where she was busy slicing into the remains of a delicious chocolate cake they'd had for dessert the night before. Winking at Roman, she said, "Truth be told, we tried to pawn you off on the rest of the family and when they didn't want you, we went to the orphanages. Then the dog pound, but we found out they don't take kids."

"You're lying!" Vanora protested. "I'm a wonderful kid and anybody would love to have me as their kid. And that's a fact!"

"I guess we don't have to worry about her self-esteem," Roman decided.

Vanora hopped onto one of the stools surrounding the small kitchen island and grabbed a piece of cake in one hand, making quite a mess. "Brain frosting, right?"

"Of course! Want a piece, Roman?"

Looking vaguely ill, Roman made a face. "With brain frosting, I don't think so."

Munching happily on her cake, Vanora grinned with delight. "Roman, it's pretend brain frosting."

"Oh, I see! Well, then I'll take a piece, too!" Sliding onto the stool next to her, he set his elbows on the counter.

Alisha obligingly slid a plate over to him, then handed him a spoon so he could tuck into the slice she had served him.

Vanora barely remembered her parents. They had died when she was four and Alisha and Roman were the closest thing she had to parents. Though their images remained ingrained in her mind from all the photos tucked into fancy frames and scattered throughout the grand house, but it was Roman's strong presence and Alisha's warm smile that made her feel safe.

"Roman, you know what?"

"What, Vanora?"

"I'll always take care of you and Alisha."

"You want to know a secret, Vanora?" Roman whispered, leaning toward the little girl.

"What?" Vanora asked.

"You already do." And with a wicked smile, he bit into her chunk of cake and kissed her forehead.

"You're weird," Vanora decided over another bite.

"It must run in the family," Alisha said. She crossed her eyes and stuck out her tongue.

The siblings burst into laughter as the rain fell softly beyond the kitchen windows.

# 2

Roman Socoli stared solemnly out his bedroom window. Night had fallen over the estate and the trees surrounding the house now resembled a darkened mountain range. The sight vaguely reminded him of Romania. Roman hadn't seen Romania until after the collapse of the Soviet Union. He'd been born in Houston, Texas to parents who still remembered their homeland and instilled in him a loyalty to a country he had never seen.

His mother, Anna, had died when he was ten, and his father soon after married Carys, Alisha and Vanora's mother, a native of Wales that he'd met on a business trip. Though Roman was proud of his heritage, his life and future were in Texas, far from a past of pain and despair inflicted on his family.

The glistening white stone mausoleum caught his eye. Satisfaction filled him. He had made the right decision in bringing the dead Socolis home. It was rewarding to preserve what he could of his heritage. His grandparents had escaped communist Romania with few family treasures in the 1950's to escape the Securitate. Their estate had been co-opted by the government, and later, after Nicolae Ceaușescu had been deposed, the new government had retained the property.

When Roman had returned recently to negotiate for his ancestors, it had angered him to see the former Socoli Estate – now converted into a government-run mental facility – falling into ruins. It was a sad reminder that life is fragile. He seemed destined to learn that lesson over and over again in his life. First his mother, then his father and stepmother had died tragically. At least Anna had known cancer would claim her life and had prepared for the end, but Anton and Carys had died swiftly when their car flipped over the railing of a bridge and plunged into the shallow river bed below.

_Dark thoughts for a dark day_ , Roman thought. _Stop it now or you'll be up all night drenched in memories._

There was a soft knock on his bedroom door.

"Come in."

Alisha entered in her nightgown and robe. "Vanora is finally asleep. She was really hyper over today's events. Her wild imagination, you know. And here I was worried that she might be upset. She's positively thrilled to have that thing out there."

"I just hope she'll get out of bed in time for school tomorrow. I don't feel like being late to work."

"I'll take her if she gives you grief." Alisha drew near the window and peered out into the darkness. "Ugh, that thing! I didn't know you could see it from your bedroom!"

"It's a nice view. The contractor did a very good job building an old-world mausoleum."

Alisha hugged herself tightly, shaking her head. "Yeah. A mausoleum. Not a nice greenhouse or cabana. A mausoleum."

"Oh, c'mon now, Alisha. Don't tell me it's still giving you the creeps."

"It was bad enough when it was being built, but it's worse now that there're bodies in it." She made a face as she sat on his bed and plucked at her robe's belt. "Truthfully, Roman, ever since you brought those coffins home, I've felt..." she faltered, her gaze falling to her bare feet. "Well, I feel frightened."

Roman was slightly surprised at his sister's confession. He understood that she was an artist and prone to being overemotional and extremely over-imaginative, but this was preposterous. They had discussed the importance of preserving their family's dignity by bringing the bodies to the estate in America. He had thought she truly understood why it was so important to him.

"Alisha, you know I brought them here because they are our ancestors and deserve the decency of being buried properly on the Socoli Estate, wherever it may exist in the world."

Alisha sighed. "I know that!"

"Then what is the problem?"

"They scare me, okay?"

Roman chuckled, shaking his head. Sweeping his dark hair off his face, he looked at her with amusement. "Alisha, you have no reason at all to fear them. They are dead!"

Lightly biting her bottom lip, she seemed to be hesitant, apparently considering her words. "Roman, why was the coffin of our great-great-great-grandfather chained?"

Roman groaned. The chained coffin had caused him a lot of grief and had been quite a scandal when removed from the mausoleum in Romania. He didn't feel like discussing the topic again, but he could tell his sister was unnerved. "Alisha, it was an incredibly disrespectful act by some very foolish people. Superstitious fools probably believed our ancestor was a vampire and chained the coffin. The estate did exist in Wallachia, you know."

"Didn't you think that maybe it was a good thing the coffin was chained?"

Wearily, Roman said, "Alisha, please, don't start. I don't want to hear about vampires."

"I don't believe in vampires, Roman, it's just that when you said what you did about the chains being removed, I felt a chill flow through me." Alisha slid off the bed and moved to press her face against the glass, straining to see the mausoleum.

Brushing his fingers lightly over his upper lip, Roman studied his sister. "Alisha, I know you pride yourself on your Celtic Second Sight, but the uneasiness you feel has to do with the simple fact that today we dealt with death. We were both reminded of our own mortality today. I was thinking of Dad and Carys just before you came in."

"I know you think I am just a hysterical artist with a wild imagination, but trust me when I say something isn't right. You're Romanian. Can't you believe in the Second Sight?"

Roman chuckled lightly. "I believe in what I can see."

Alisha gave him a frustrated look, then flung up her hands. "Fine. I'm going to bed."

"Alisha, I don't want to demean your opinion or upset you. It's just that they're dead and buried. There's no way on this earth they can hurt you."

"My mind tells me the same thing, but a voice within me is crying out that something is horribly, terribly wrong." Alisha kissed her brother's cheek goodnight and opened the door.

"Good night, Alisha," Roman responded, returning his gaze to the view beyond the window. He saw his sister's worried expression reflected in the panes of the window.

"Roman, are you ever afraid?"

Roman shook his head. "Should I be?"

"Maybe we all should be," Alisha responded before closing the door behind her as she left.

_She's getting stranger every day,_ Roman mused.

Sometimes his sister mystified him nearly as much as Carys had when he was a child. Alisha had not only inherited Carys's flowing golden hair and blue eyes, but her artistic talent and a strong belief in the supernatural. Roman was more like their father: pragmatic and even-tempered. This evening, Alisha was acting odder than usual, but Roman simply couldn't put any faith in her feelings. There was no way he could believe the dead could harm them. They were dead and buried safely in the mausoleum.

"The dead are dead," he muttered.

A shadow flickered across the lawn and before Roman could fully catch a glimpse of it, it vanished.

* * *

An hour later, Alisha gave up on reading herself to sleep and glanced warily at the French doors that opened to her balcony. The darkness of the night pressed against the panes, and the glass reflected her anxious expression.

Something was out there watching her.

Tossing back the covers, she slid out of bed and slowly advanced on the doors. Her skin was on fire with thousands of hot pinpricks and her breath became increasingly shallow as fear clawed its way through her mind. The notion of being watched overwhelmed her so strongly that her hands quivered when she drew the curtains, deftly shutting out the darkness of the night. Backing away from the windows slowly, she was too afraid to look away.

The doorknob of her bedroom door began to turn and Alisha whirled about.

"Who's there?" Alisha demanded in a rough voice.

"It's me," Roman said, slightly embarrassed as he poked his head in around the door. "I'm sorry I frightened you. I was just checking up on you. I thought you'd be asleep."

Alisha was flushed with relief. "I couldn't sleep and when I did, I had these horrible nightmares."

"After what you said earlier, I was worried about you. I didn't mean to sound like such a jerk about dismissing your worries."

"Eh, you're always a jerk. You're my brother." Alisha forced a small smile. "I'm okay now, I think."

"Good."

Alisha climbed into her bed and pulled the blanket over her. Roman strode over and tucked her in, acting as though she were twelve instead of twenty-two. Being ten years older than Alisha, Roman had always played the role of surrogate father when their father had been traveling abroad. As she grew older, they had realized that he could no longer be a surrogate parent to her and their relationship had changed. In many ways, Roman was a muddled combination of an older brother, father, and dearest friend in Alisha's mind. She smiled at him wistfully. Roman had sacrificed so much to raise her and their little sister in the wake of their parents' deaths.

"Roman, thank you for being here for me and Vanora."

He looked a little startled by her words. "Where else would I be? It was my duty to take care of you. Besides, I love both of you, even if you're both obsessed with monsters from the grave," Roman said briskly but with a smile.

Alisha glanced warily at the French doors. Roman's gaze followed hers.

"Alisha, nothing is out there."

"Roman, do me a favor. Lock your bedroom door and windows," Alisha said abruptly.

Roman gave her a sharp look, then smiled and nodded. "I will. For you."

"I know you think I'm paranoid and all that, but I'm worried."

Roman nodded somberly. "I understand. I think about all we've lost and I feel afraid, too. I can't imagine life without you and Vanora."

Resting her hand on Roman's, Alisha said, "And we can't imagine life without you."

Her older brother smiled, then departed, turning off the overhead light and plunging into darkness. Alisha reached out with a trembling hand and turned on the lamp next to her bed. Straining to see in the dim light, she examined every shadow lurking in the bedroom.

"Oh, please, God, let Roman be right. Don't let there be anything out there," she prayed fervently.

* * *

Vanora sleepily fumbled with the lock on her window, then felt it open. A cool gentle breeze flowed into her bedroom, alleviating the stuffiness. Still burdened with sleep, she stumbled to her large canopy bed. Her sleep-laden eyelids gently closed and she felt the sweetness of a coming dream. Abruptly, the comforting sensation was gone and she felt as though she were falling into a deep black pit. Vanora tried to waken, but sleep was engulfing her.

Fighting upward toward the surface of her dreams, she tossed about in her bed. Sleep was a dragon consuming her and she fought it valiantly. Her eyes flicked open and for an instant, she saw a lean, gaunt figure silhouetted in the window before she was swallowed by darkness again.

Frantic, Vanora forced her eyes open again. The room was dark and ominous. Fear embraced her so tightly, she could scarcely draw a breath. She attempted to move, but her limbs failed her. Eyes wide and staring, she tried to discern the familiar shapes of her bedroom furniture and toys. Gradually, the awful realization that something or someone was crouched on her toy chest swept over her.

Deliberately, the eerie gaunt figure climbed off the toy chest and walked erratically toward the bed. The moonlight streaming through the window fell upon a gnarled, skeletal hand when it grasped the bedpost. Vanora struggled to call out, but every word strangled in her throat.

The creature moved again, climbing onto her bed. It crept into a moonbeam, and Vanora saw a skull-like face, bulging hunger-filled eyes, and a gaping mouth with long sharp teeth protruding from dry, shriveled lips.

Whimpering, Vanora felt the creature's body climb over her, its gross head blocking the view of her room. Its claw-like hand pulled the covers away from her chest. With terrifying deliberateness, its grotesque head began to lower.

Unexpectedly, a glowing, luminescent light began to shimmer in the night, causing the creature to hesitate. Vanora saw the source of the light at the same moment the creature did. The silvery, glowing light expanded, spreading out over her body.

The thing rasped furiously in a foreign tongue, then flung itself from the bed. With a shriek of rage, it hurtled through the window.

Vanora pressed her tiny hands against the tiny silver Celtic cross hanging about her neck. It was very warm to her touch, and Vanora watched with fascination as the light emanating from the cross slowly dissipated. Afraid to be alone in the dark of her room, Vanora scrambled from her bed.

# 3

Alisha awoke with a start when Vanora pounded on the bedroom door.

"Alisha, it's me," her little sister's voice called out urgently.

Alisha rushed across her room and opened the door immediately. Vanora scurried in and leaped onto the bed. Alisha quickly shut and locked the door.

"What's wrong? What happened?" Alisha demanded anxiously.

Vanora peeked out at her sister from behind the comforter she was clutching to her face. "There was something in my room!"

"What do you mean, Snow Pea?" Alisha knew that she had lost all color in her face as her hands began to tremble.

"A monster, Alisha! It was in my room! It came to get me, but it went away!" Vanora wailed and flung her arms about Alisha.

Immediately, Alisha crawled onto the bed and wrapped her sister in her arms. "It's okay, sweetie. You're safe now."

"It tried to hurt me!"

The older sister stroked her sister's white-blond hair distractedly. Her mind was whirling with thoughts that just couldn't be true. "What did it look like?"

"All ugly and thin and gross!" Vanora whimpered. "It saw Mama's cross and ran away!"

"Thank God!"

"You believe me?" Vanora questioned in an awed voice.

Alisha gently wiped tears from her sister's face and nodded. "I do. There is evil out there. I felt it earlier. How did it get in?"

"I opened my window because it was hot," Vanora reported, sniffling.

Alisha thought this over. "I thought they had to be invited in," she said under her breath and walked over to the large oak bookcase lining one wall. She plucked Bram Stoker's _Dracula_ off a shelf and flipped through it.

"What has to be invited in, Alisha? What is it? I'm scared!" Vanora whispered.

"You're wearing your cross. It can't touch you. The windows are locked and so is the door. It can't get in unless we let it in," Alisha responded.

"You mean it's a vampire! Like Dracula!" Vanora sounded both terrified and a little thrilled. "You said monsters aren't real!"

"You have your cross! You're safe! It was scared off once already." She touched her neck gently then looked confused. "Where's mine?"

"What is it?"

Vanora's wail was not helping her nerves.

"My cross," Alisha responded and walked toward her vanity. "I must have taken it off."

"Mama told us to always wear them. She said we always had to have our crosses on! It's very important!" Vanora scolded, hugging a pillow to her body and rocking back and forth.

"I know, I know!" Alisha opened her jewelry box and searched about for the small silver cross.

A tree branch tapped rhythmically against the window. Alisha grew more frightened with every passing moment. The vanity was directly in front of the windows and Alisha felt too close to whatever was out there. And she was very much convinced that something _was_ out there.

"Find it!" Vanora ordered, holding her cross tightly in one of her tiny hands.

"I'm trying!" Alisha's body tensed, every nerve terrifyingly alert. Hands trembling, she searched through the drawers of her jewelry box.

Unnervingly, the sound of the branch brushing against the window abruptly ceased. Alisha stopped and listened. Silence. Fearfully, she looked at the drawn curtains. Cold, tangible waves of evil pulsated against the panes of the French doors, trying to force them open. Alisha sensed a malevolent presence beyond the doors and it terrified her to the very depth of her soul. Yet, the temptation to pull back the curtains and see what had escaped from the rotting coffin gripped her. Trembling, she reached out toward the drapes.

"No!" Vanora screamed.

Alisha hesitated.

Something struck the balcony door with great force. Both sisters screamed. Alisha fully expected a hideous creature to leap through the French doors into the room, but the doors held fast.

Alisha ran and leaped onto the bed, Vanora throwing her arms about her. They both held onto the tiny cross, holding it up in the direction of the French doors.

"Go away!" Alisha ordered in a shaking voice.

"Yeah, go away!"

"We don't want you! Go away! We won't let you in!" Alisha shouted, her confidence swelling slightly. The cross burned with power in her hand.

The doors trembled.

"It's trying to unlock the doors," Vanora whispered.

A soft scratching noise emanated from beyond the curtains.

Anger overcoming fear, Alisha climbed off the bed and grabbed her sketch pad off her desk. Grabbing her charcoal pencil, she drew in long, swift strokes. The scratching at the doors continued, again the doors were tried, then the scratching started again. Alisha showed her sister the enormous cross she had drawn then started toward the doors.

"Alisha, don't! It'll get you!"

"No, it won't!"

Grasping the sketch pad firmly, Alisha viciously yanked the curtain back and slammed the drawing against the glass panes. She only saw the emaciated form, with the shrunken features, and gaping mouth, for an instant, then an unholy scream rent the night air and it threw itself over the balcony railing to the ground below.

"It's gone!" Relief and confidence swelled within her. She wrenched the doors open and shakily stepped onto the balcony holding the pad firmly. To her horror, she saw it climbing up the wall toward her.

"Where is it?" Vanora's voice was a terrified wail.

"The bastard doesn't learn!" Alisha exclaimed and moved toward it, the drawn cross between her and the creature.

It howled as if in pain, then averting its face, muttered something in a foreign tongue.

Alisha retreated to her room and locked the doors quickly.

"Bring me the tape," Alisha said in a hushed, hurried voice.

Vanora didn't move.

"Bring it!"

The youngster ran to the desk and grabbed the roll of tape. Alisha tore the drawn cross from the pad and pressed it against the window. Vanora joined her and pulled pieces of the sticky tape off the roll. Alisha secured the cross to the window with feverish intensity.

"I can see it! Vanora sobbed.

"Don't look at it! Don't look at its eyes," Alisha ordered.

Another scream rent the night, then the thing appeared to disappear into the darkness. But Alisha knew better. She'd looked into the glowing eyes and had seen the centuries-old hunger. It would return again and again, for it was desperate to feed on the blood of the living.

Finally finished, the sisters crawled onto the bed and covered themselves up.

"It's still out there!" Vanora whispered.

"I know, Vanora," Alisha responded.

"Can we call the police?"

"They can't help us with this."

"What is it?"

"It is one of the old ones. The one from the coffin that was chained. Roman set him free. It can roam the grounds and probably get into the house because we descended from him." Alisha pressed her cold, trembling fingers to her forehead. "I knew bringing those coffins here was a really bad idea."

"But if we are his family, why does he want to hurt us?"

"Because he is insane with the hunger. Vampires crave blood and after being locked in that coffin for a hundred years or more, he's insane with the desire to feed."

Vanora's little body was shaking so hard, Alisha regretted being so honest with her. "You have your cross, Snow Pea. It will protect us."

"But what about Roman?" Vanora asked.

Vanora was so white, her skin flushed a bright pink when she was upset. Her purple eyes were swollen and filled with tears and it broke Alisha's heart. Gently, she stroked her sister's snowy blond hair.

"I wouldn't worry about him. He has that giant mother-of-pearl cross in his window and he always wears his cross around his neck. Right now he's sleeping and is perfectly safe. And so are we," Alisha said, trying to convince herself as well as Vanora.

Vanora glanced toward the door that opened into the hallway, pressing her lips tightly together. "Maybe we could go knock on his door?"

"I don't want us to risk leaving the room. We know it's safe in here."

"Call him?"

"Okay, we'll do that. Though he's probably just going to be cranky." She was almost afraid to call and not have him answer. Then she would have to risk running down the hallway to his room. Alisha picked up the phone and dialed Roman's extension.

"What is it?" he sleepily answered.

"Uh, is everything okay?" Alisha's fingers played with the telephone cord.

Vanora's big eyes watched Alisha anxiously.

"What?" Roman sounded more asleep than awake.

"Are you okay?"

"Go back to sleep, Alisha," Roman mumbled and hung up.

"He's fine," Alisha assured Vanora. "And cranky."

"I wish morning would come," Vanora whispered.

"So do I, Snow Pea. So do I."

# 4

"Get up, you have to go to school," Roman said, shaking Vanora awake. "What're you doing in here anyway? You gave me such a fright when I found your bed empty."

Alisha stood next to the bed, nervously tugging on her robe as she watched Vanora's eyes focus sluggishly on Roman as he leaned over her.

"Is it morning?" her little sister asked.

"Of course. What sort of a question is that? Hurry up! I'm already running late as it is," Roman said, knotting the red tie that hung about his neck.

Vanora gazed at her older sister questioningly, and Alisha nodded, urging her to obey.

Reluctantly, Vanora crawled out of bed. "I don't feel well."

"I know you have a spelling test today. You're not getting out of it. Now, hurry up!" Roman ordered.

Vanora groaned, scowled, and then reluctantly left the room.

"I guess yesterday unnerved her more than we thought it did. At least she crawled into your bed, Alisha, and not mine. Her feet are always so cold, and she kicks the hell out of me."

Trying to muster up her courage and sort out her frightened thoughts, Alisha said, "Roman, I have to speak to you. It's important."

"Can this wait? I have a big meeting today first thing and then I'm flying to Austin to meet with that real estate agent about that property that might be opening up. You know I want to expand the company." Roman retied his tie, obviously frustrated at the bit of fabric's lack of cooperation.

"I'd rather it didn't," Alisha answered.

Glancing at his watch, Roman grimaced. "It's going to have to." He darted back into the hallway as Vanora slipped back into Alisha's bedroom.

"Do I have to go to school?" Vanora asked in a plaintive voice. She was slathering the heavy-duty sunblock she had to wear to protect her skin and still yawning. Due to a lack of melanin, Vanora was prone to severe damage from the sun.

Alisha nodded. "You'd better go. I'll pick you up right after school."

Vanora pouted as Alisha pushed her firmly out of the room. Dragging her feet, the little girl returned to her own bedroom.

Alisha ran down the stairs and entered Roman's office. "Roman?"

He barely glanced up at her. "Make it fast."

"Roman, I want you to seal that coffin back up!" Alisha blurted out.

"Are you seriously going to bring this up again?" Roman asked as he searched through a drawer.

"You let something truly evil out when you unchained that coffin!" Alisha declared.

Roman studied her evenly, taking in her rumpled hair, bloodshot eyes, and trembling lips. "What happened to you?"

"That thing you set free was outside the house last night, Roman! I saw it! Vanora saw it! It wanted to kill us!"

Roman sighed heavily and slid a folder into his briefcase. "I've never known you to drink, but Alisha, did you get smashed last night?"

"No!" Alisha slapped the briefcase lid shut and glared at Roman. "Maybe you don't believe in the supernatural, but I do! But I never believed that something so evil could exist until last night."

Roman stared at her for a long moment. He actually looked a little unnerved. "What did you see, Alisha?"

"A vampire!"

Roman sighed and locked his case. Casting a concerned look at Alisha, he said, "Once the sun is higher in the sky, you will realize what foolishness you're spouting. This, Alisha, you have to see, is absolutely absurd. Vanora has been watching far too many horror movies and you, well, I can understand how the new mausoleum could spark your imagination."

"I wish you would listen to me!"

"I am listening! What am I supposed to do Alisha? Call Van Helsing to come take care of our vampire problem?"

"No!"

"Then what?"

"Roman, please, put the chains back on that coffin. For me. Please!"

Shaking his head, Roman tugged on his suit jacket.

"Roman, listen to me! I'm not imagining this! Vanora saw it, too! She said it crawled into her window and tried to attack her."

"Alisha, she had a nightmare!"

"I saw it, too!"

"We'll discuss this later. I'm running late," Roman said with a soft snort and brushed past her.

"Don't treat me like a child!"

"Don't act like one!"

"I know what I saw!"

Vanora stood in the hallway in her school uniform, her satchel in one hand and a peanut butter sandwich in the other. Dark sunglasses covered her sensitive eyes, but Alisha knew the little girl was watching them with concern.

"Are you ready, Vanora?" Roman asked, but didn't wait for a reply as he strode down the stairs to the entrance hall.

Vanora tilted her head so she could look over the top of her sunglasses. She questioned Alisha with her eyes.

"I'll do what I can," Alisha said with a sigh.

Vanora nodded and motioned to her cross. "Don't forget."

Alisha touched her neck. "I'll find mine. I'll pick you up after school." She kissed Vanora on both cheeks and smiled. "I'll see you later, Snow Pea."

"Bye," was the peanut butter smothered reply.

# 5

Alisha's white Camaro wove in and out of the two o'clock Houston traffic at speeds exceeding seventy-five miles per hour, the speed most Texan drivers cruised at despite the posted signs. She sat behind the wheel, her face tense and determined. After a frustrating hour of trying to get the dial-up modem on Roman's new desktop computer to work, she had given up and spent most of her day traveling to Houston's various libraries searching for books on vampire lore after several bookshops had turned up empty. They had all been a dead end as well. The library computers all reported the vampire tomes to be in-house, but when Alisha sought them out, the shelves were empty. Finally, a librarian had confessed that most vampire books disappeared into the backpacks of teenagers.

Alisha took an exit, effectively cutting off a cowboy in his gleaming truck. He honked at her, and she promptly flipped him off. She was in a desperate and foul mood. She didn't know what she was going to tell Vanora. Her younger sister was counting on her to save them from the monster that had invaded their lives.

Alisha felt fiercely angry with Roman and his family honor. Sometimes his high ideals caused him trouble he could have otherwise easily avoided, but he was so kindhearted, he didn't even stop to consider any other way than the honorable one. Alisha was well aware of the fact that Roman had, in essence, postponed starting his own family to care for his half-sisters. Even though she felt guilt over his delayed life, he didn't seem to ever regret the decision to be their guardian.

Pulling hard on the wheel, Alisha skidded around a corner and nearly avoided slamming into another car.

"Damn! Damn! Damn! Damn!" she cursed under her breath fiercely.

The hot Texan sun was beating down through her windshield, virtually cooking her alive. Just driving about Houston today had given her the beginnings of a lovely tan or a rotten burn. The sunlight made her feel safe, but she knew that the sun would soon begin to dip below the Houston skyline.

She glanced over at the only vampire book she had managed to find in the children's section of a library. It only repeated the vampire lore of the Hammer Films. But in the end, it was all she had. Spotting a flower shop ahead, Alisha made up her mind as to what her first step would be.

* * *

Vanora sat quietly on a bench in the hall, listening to the muted sounds of people talking in the classrooms. The bell had already rung for dismissal of the lower classes, and most of the kids were outside loading onto the bus or waiting for their parents. Though she regularly applied sunblock to her skin and wore her dark glasses, Vanora didn't dare stand outside to wait for her sister. After she had suffered a nasty sunburn after a romp around the playground on a hazy day, the school determined she was not allowed outside due to liability issues.

With a sigh, Vanora pushed her sunglasses up on her nose and glanced out the glass inset in the doors to look for Alisha's car.

Two kids from another class on her grade level sauntered past her on their way out the front doors. The two little boys, dressed in blue blazers and gray trousers, were a study in contrasts: one a fair-skinned white boy with blue eyes and blond hair, the other black with dark brown skin and eyes. Giving her sharp, quick looks, they whispered to one another, laughing while they obviously talked about her.

Vanora ignored the other students, her eyes staring through the tinted lenses of her sunglasses at an announcement taped to the wall. Though she knew they were making fun of her, she was determined not to let them know they were hurting her feelings. This was her third school since kindergarten and after half a year of attendance, she was still the focus of much gossip, jeering, and bullying. Her wintery white skin, white-blond hair, and purple eyes fringed with white lashes were the source of much mockery. Additionally, her inability to be in direct sunlight, the necessary use of her sunglasses, and her parasol made her the brunt of vampire jokes. Even though the school had held an assembly to discuss tolerance, the bullying didn't stop. It just became more subtle. It was ironic that she was accused of being a vampire and now one was haunting her life.

The boys shot her smirks over their shoulders before shoving open the front doors. "See if she bursts into flame," one of them snickered.

The doors banged shut behind them.

With a sigh, Vanora checked her Mickey Mouse watch. Alisha was fifteen minutes late. She had to keep reminding herself that the vampire couldn't hurt Alisha during the day.

Two short honks followed by a long one informed her that Alisha had finally arrived. Grabbing her book bag, she rushed out the doors and down the steps. Only a smattering of students remained, and she could feel their eyes tracking her as she ran to her sister's car. Leaning over, Alisha shoved open the car door for her.

"Who are all the roses for?" Vanora asked, peering into the back of the car.

"Well, hello to you too, Snow Pea," Alisha said with a forced smile. "You have to sit in the front today, so put on your hat. As you can see, the back is occupied."

Vanora rolled her eyes, climbed in, pulled on her seatbelt, and hugged her sister. Alisha gave her a kiss on the cheek before shoving a wide-brimmed hat onto Vanora's head and tilting the brim down.

Vanora twisted in her seat and stared into the backseat, which was overflowing with deep, red velvety roses. Their sweet perfume filled the car to the point of being overwhelming. "These are for the vampire, aren't they?"

Alisha concentrated on maneuvering past the few remaining buses parked on the curved drive and directed her car toward the iron gates. "We'll talk about it later."

"I may be a kid, but I'm not stupid. These are for the vampires, right?"

Her older sister sighed, rubbed her nose, and didn't answer.

"I saw it myself. I know that it is real, Alisha," Vanora said sullenly. "All day I have been trying to forget, but I can't. I'm really afraid, Alisha."

"Snow Pea, we need to be calm," Alisha said in a soft, firm voice. She took Vanora's hand firmly in one of her own. "All day I keep thinking that this can't be real. That it's not happening."

"You saw it too, Alisha!" Vanora wailed. "You did!"

"I'm not denying that, Snow Pea, we both saw that thing, and yes, the roses are to protect us. I also bought several crosses. You can sleep in my room if you'd like tonight. In fact, I would prefer it."

Vanora stared at her sister with large, fearful eyes. "I don't want to be alone in my room."

Alisha turned out of the drive and rubbed her brow wearily. "We are going to put the roses in my room and hang the crosses in the window and on the door knobs, but when we get home, I'm going to try to get into the mausoleum and deal with it."

"Are you going to kill it like in the movies?" Vanora asked in a quivering voice, pulling one of her long ivory braids over her shoulder.

"I don't know if I can." Alisha reached into her purse and pulled out a long, sharpened stake. "I got this at the lumberyard. If I can get into the mausoleum, I will try to kill it. I'm not sure if I can go through with it though. I don't think I can kill anyone."

"I'll help you, Alisha."

"You're so sweet, Snow Pea," Alisha said with a smile. "But I think I have to kill the Vampire because little girls shouldn't have to hurt anyone. And stop chewing on your hair," she added pulling the tip of Vanora's braid from her mouth.

* * *

The Socoli sisters ran across the large sprawling lawn down to the mausoleum nestled in a circle of oak trees. The long, leafy boughs hovered over the tomb, casting dark shadows that danced over the white surface. Even in the bright afternoon sun, the atmosphere was menacing.

As Alisha approached the imposing Gothic building, she slowed and took several deep breaths. Maybe it was her sister's youth, but Vanora seemed far less afraid than Alisha. The little girl's fingers clutched the brim of her hat tightly while she stared at the grim building with an enraptured expression.

"It's kinda cool that monsters are real, but I don't like _this_ monster," Vanora said matter-of-factly. "Anyway, the sun is out. It can't hurt us now." She patted her sister's back soothingly. "Don't be scared."

_Then why am I so damned scared?_ Alisha thought. She hugged Vanora tightly. "I'm trying, Snow Pea."

The creature knew they were outside the crypt. Alisha was certain of that. The evil emanating from within the mausoleum was so tangible her hair stood on end. A dark, ominous force thrust against her, trying to make her flee. The pressure was so great, she felt as though she was going to collapse. Slightly lightheaded, she laid her hand over her hammering heart.

"Snow Pea, stay outside."

"I want to help kill it," Vanora protested. Her small hand clutched her cross in one hand, and her delicate jaw was set with resolve.

"Just obey me," Alisha ordered.

After a long, annoyed sigh, Vanora nodded.

Swallowing hard, Alisha took hold of the scrolled handle of the mausoleum door. She yanked it and felt her muscles straining. The door did not budge.

"Oh, please, don't do this," she exclaimed.

Taking hold of the handle with both hands, she tugged with all her might. The heavy metal door did not relent. Vanora's hands joined the struggle and her pale face strained as she pulled in vain. The door would not budge.

"It's not going to open," Alisha grunted.

"It has to!"

Alisha let go with an explosive sigh. Leaning against the door, she said, "I was afraid of this. Roman had it sealed."

The world was perfectly silent. Only the rustling of the leaves whispered in the breeze. The sisters stared at each other with frustration. Alisha was overwhelmed by the pulsating evil slithering over her body. She wanted frantically to run away, but she had to find a way to defend herself and her family. The vampire wasn't going to leave on its own.

Vanora grabbed hold of the door handle and struggled to open it. "It's in there right now. It's helpless!"

Alisha ran her hands through her hair and stared at the mausoleum with loathing. "We can't get in, Vanora. Why wouldn't Roman listen to me today? Dammit!" Alisha slammed her hand against the heavy doors with disgust. "Why did he have to be so stupid?"

"Roman doesn't know monsters are real!"

"He should know to listen to me! He knows I have the gift! Forgive my language, but our brother is a bullheaded bastard at times. Well, we just can't sit here and do nothing." Alisha dropped to her knees and unzipped her bag. She pulled out several roses with a small gold cross bound about them. She slipped the bouquet through the door handles and whispered a soft prayer.

"That's all?" Vanora asked with disbelief. "It's going to get us!"

Alisha placed her hands on Vanora's waist and peered up at her through her bangs. "No, it won't. We will be safe. I promise you."

"They always kill the vampires in the movies, Alisha!" Vanora cried, once more tugging on the door.

Alisha felt tears welling in her eyes. No matter what she said to Vanora, she really didn't feel safe. The darkly mesmerizing atmosphere permeated everything around her, even piercing into her soul. It convinced her that this was no simple battle. Everything she loved was in jeopardy, as was her very life. All through her life, she had known evil existed, and on a few occasions, she had felt the cold touch of its hand in certain circumstances. The day her parents died, she had known before the phone had rung and Roman had broken the news to her that they had died. She had felt evil's ruthless presence in her life that fateful night when she had lost her parents forever as she did now this hot afternoon. Even the bright Texas sunlight didn't seem to touch the mausoleum. It was shrouded in the shadows of the oak trees, which stood guard over it. The evil had embedded itself into their lives and destroying it was going to take all their will and strength. This was not a battle she could run away from. It would follow them. They were of the creature's blood, and instinctively she knew it would find them wherever they fled.

Shivering despite the day's heat, she drew her jacket closer about her.

"Snow Pea, there is nothing we can do today. We had better get in. It will be night soon."

Vanora's face paled significantly. "Okay. But we have to kill it tomorrow, Alisha."

"Okay, Snow Pea. Come on." Alisha stood up shakily and extended her hand. "We have things to do. We have to prepare for tonight."

As they strolled across the lawn to the house, Vanora glanced back toward the mausoleum where Death slept. "You can even feel him in there, can't you? All over your skin. You can feel it."

Alisha glanced at her sister with surprise. "You feel it?"

"Real strong. It almost makes me feel sick," Vanora confessed.

Alisha kissed the top of her sister's head. So Vanora had inherited Carys's Second Sight. She had wondered if that was the case but hadn't expected a full confirmation until puberty. That was when her powers had fully manifested. "Yes, I feel it, too."

Vanora wrapped her arms around her sister's waist and held on tightly. "We'll beat it, right?"

"Of course," Alisha said, hoping she sounded sincere.

# 6

Rushing about before sunset, the sisters filled every extra vase they could find with dark red roses and positioned them around Alisha's bedroom. Once the bedroom was ready, Alisha double-checked every window and locked every door, while Vanora hung the cheap metal crosses Alisha had bought in all the windows.

"Why is he coming after us?" Vanora asked Alisha once they were sure the house was secure. "Why not the neighbors?"

"According to several books I read when I was a teenager, the vampire always goes after family members first. I'm not sure why, but supposedly they do," Alisha answered as she hooked a gold chain onto the doorknobs of her French doors. A large cross hung from the golden loop.

Vanora finished tying several roses to the bedposts and admired her work. "I put these here to protect us better. Are you sure roses work?"

"They should. It says so in Bram Stoker's _Dracula_. Plus, we have our crosses. You are wearing the one Mama gave you?"

Vanora fished it out of her shirt and held it up.

Alisha touched the cross her mother had given her that matched the one her little sister wore and smiled. "See. We're safe."

"Maybe we should have gone somewhere else. Like a motel."

"I thought of that, but I have a horrible feeling it would find us wherever we went. I think we are safer defending ourselves here." Alisha pulled back the curtain and peered out at the darkening sky. The sun was low on the horizon, only a few streaks of pink and gold still visible.

"What about Roman?" Vanora asked worriedly.

"I told you he left a message on the answering machine and that he won't be home probably until tomorrow morning."

"What about Miss Robbins?" Vanora's eyes were wide as she worried about the fate of their housekeeper.

"He goes after family members, remember? Besides, I already told her to go home."

"What if Roman comes home when it's still dark?"

Alisha took a deep breath and tried to have patience with her sister. "He always wears his cross, Snow Pea. He'll be safe," she said hopefully.

Vanora granted her a dubious look.

Alisha wished her brother would just listen to her, but he clearly thought she was overreacting. Approaching her bed, she opened the bag she'd laid on it earlier. Vanora watched her with great interest as Alisha removed a stake and a hammer and placed them on her nightstand.

Vanora's purple eyes were so enlarged with fear, Alisha thought they might pop out at any moment.

"Blink! Please! You look like a zombie!"

Vanora fluttered her eyelids and took a deep breath.

"Let's find something to eat, Snow Pea. Come on."

They went down to the kitchen and made a few sandwiches, all the while keeping a sharp eye out the windows. Grabbing a bag of chips and some sodas, they ran back up the stairs and locked themselves into Alisha's bedroom.

Alisha moved to the window once more and gazed up at the half moon and glistening stars. Her gaze swept over the lawn below and a chill pierced through her body. Something was watching her. She quickly closed the curtains and turned away, yet she still felt the hungry, penetrative gaze of the creature who longed for her blood.

Vanora watched her from where she sat on the bed while munching on a sandwich. Seeing her older sister's expression, she asked worriedly, "Is it out there?"

_It's out there and determined to destroy us! There is no hope!_ Alisha thought despondently. A pall of despair filled her, but she didn't want to frighten her little sister.

Instead, she said, "No, just looking at the sky." Picking up the remote control, she clicked on the television. She settled onto the bed next to her sister, too sick with fear to eat any of the sandwiches or chips.

"I'm afraid," Vanora whispered, pulling the covers up around her waist. She dug into the bag of chips and stuffed several into her mouth. "Are you?"

"I'd be an idiot not to be," Alisha said with a weak laugh. "But we're safe. You have to remember that. As long as we are wearing these crosses, we are safe."

Vanora touched her own cross gently with her small fingers. "I believe you, Alisha."

"God will take care of us. I promise. Now, let's pretend that horrible thing doesn't exist and watch a show." Snuggling up to her sister, she tried to immerse herself in the dealings of the Charmed sisters in the newest episode, but her gaze kept sliding to the covered balcony doors.

* * *

Roman's Mercedes pulled into his estate well after midnight. It had been a long, strenuous day and he had barely caught a flight home. Now all he wanted to do was call his girlfriend Norma before falling into bed for a well-deserved rest. If he felt this awful tomorrow, he would not be up to taking Vanora to Astroworld like he'd promised.

Roman rubbed his eyes blearily and tugged his tie loose. Unbuttoning his collar, he sighed as he caught sight of the well-lit house. It appeared that every light was on. Alisha and her ghost stories. Annoyance pricked at him, but then it was drowned away when he realized that even though all the windows were illuminated, hardly any light streamed out the windows to brighten the lawn. In fact, his headlights barely sliced through the night. It was as if he was driving through a dark mist that obscured his surroundings.

_Alisha is getting to you. Careful, Roman,_ he warned himself. His sleek Mercedes slowed to a stop before the front entrance of the great house. Gathering his briefcase and overcoat, he pushed the car door open. The gravel crunched beneath his feet as he exited the car. He activated the alarm and shoved his keys into his pocket.

A soft, menacing chuckle slithered through the night.

He whirled about but saw no one. It was difficult to see through the intense darkness. Roman glanced toward Alisha's bedroom window and saw that the curtains were tightly drawn.

"She's got you hearing ghosts now," Roman whispered under his breath. Pushing away his growing sense of unease, he walked briskly toward the front door. It was so eerily silent, his breathing seemed abnormally loud

"Good evening, my dear son," a low voice rasped out of the night.

Roman whipped about, but again, no one was to be seen. The night seemed to gather itself into a great wave and crashed down upon him. Utter darkness engulfed and disoriented him, and he abruptly felt distinctly alone, as though the world beyond the dark had ceased to exist.

Except for some _thing_ lurking in the shadows, calling his name in a hoarse whisper.

_It's nothing. Alisha just has me buying into her insanity. I'm overworked and a house light went out temporarily blinding me. I don't hear someone calling my name._

"But you are," the voice cackled.

"Who's there?" Roman demanded in his harshest tone. Someone was out here. Perhaps it was Alisha playing a prank on him. He knew the thought was ridiculous, but he had no other explanation. "Alisha? Alisha, is that you? This isn't funny?"

"No, my son. It is I. The one you freed," the voice answered.

Roman's night vision slowly returned, and he backed swiftly toward the front doors. "Whoever you are, you need to leave immediately before I call the police!" he called out, determined that everything was normal. Perhaps a homeless person had wandered onto the property. "This is private property. You must leave immediately" He stumbled, unsure of his footing, blinded by absolute gloom once more.

"You brought me here. This is my home now, isn't it, my dear son?" the disembodied voice continued, growing stronger, clearer, more masculine. "When you entered the tomb and I heard your voice through my sleep, I knew you would be the one to free me from my prison."

It was then that Roman realized the voice was speaking Romanian. He froze in mid-step, unable to move, icy waves trailing up his spine and through his muddled mind.

"Who are you?" Roman managed to rasp.

"Your new master," was the hypnotic response. "Your sisters are willful women. They will not let me in. They have guarded themselves well. I tried calling them, but some strange magic in a box is too loud for them to hear me call."

"This can't be!" Roman plunged into the night, flailing to find his way through the murk. He bounced off a tall planter and realized he was very close to the front door.

"Yes, come close, my son," the compelling voice whispered.

Roman banished his growing fear, gathered up all his strength, and darted for the front door. Relief filled him when his hand closed over the doorknob and he jammed the key into the lock.

"I'm going to call the police!" he shouted.

The knob was turning in his grip when he felt something grasp his collar and take hold of him from above. Before he could react, his feet lifted off the ground. Craning his head, he saw a hideous emaciated and deformed creature perched on the wall like a spider on the stone archway over the front door.

Roman's breath left him as the creature's glowing eyes caught him in their power. The thing cackled with glee, opening its deformed mouth, revealing long, glistening fangs.

Roman's briefcase fell from his hand and crashed to the ground, his overcoat settling over it with a soft thump.

* * *

Alisha awoke abruptly. The television was still on with some asinine infomercial yakking away. Vanora was snuggled into her side, her small fingers clutching her cross.

Alisha could have sworn she heard someone call out to her. It had been a scream of agony and fear. Her long fingers searched for the cross about her neck and clasped it tightly. Snatching up the remote, she clicked off the television. The house was silent and calm, the only sound coming from the branch scraping against her window.

"I have to get that damned tree trimmed," she muttered.

Glancing at the clock, she saw it was well after midnight. Maybe Roman had come home early and he had been calling at her door. Carefully she slipped out of bed and picked up the telephone. She dialed the extension in his study, but he didn't answer. She then phoned his bedroom. Still, there was no response.

"I must have been dreaming," she decided.

Alisha was just about to crawl back into bed when there was a sharp rapping at her balcony doors. Alisha froze in fear, her breath catching in her throat.

"Who is it?"

The tapping continued.

A sudden fierce anger seized her and Alisha rushed to the curtains and whipped them back. An old man stood beyond the French doors in tattered clothes, a small smile on his thin lips. Fresh splotches of blood stained his grimy coat. Her eyes widened in disbelief as the old man grinned at her. He said something in a foreign language that she didn't understand.

"What have you done?" she cried out.

The vampire smiled charmingly and laid one hand on the window.

Alisha distinctly felt a hand touch her breast. She jerked back from the invisible grasp.

The vampire's eyes glowed like coals and he lowered his thick brows over them. Staring at her intently, his expression hungry and full of desire, she felt his mind touch hers.

_You're next. I shall be your Master and you shall be my Bride._

Alisha could not move for a long moment and when she did, it was with languorous movements. She held out her cross and felt it grow warm in her grasp. The old vampire grimaced and shrank from the window and vanished into the night.

Alisha shut the curtains, her body and mind feeling numbed. She rushed to the bed stand and rested her hand the telephone. Gazing at her still sleeping sister with tears glistening in her eyes, Alisha dialed with trembling fingers.

After several rings, a voice said, "911. State the nature of your emergency."

"My brother," Alisha gasped.

"Excuse me, ma'am, could you please speak up?"

"My brother! Please send someone."

"What has happened to your brother, ma'am?"

"I think-I think-" Alisha choked, large sparkling tears decorating her eyelashes. The words wouldn't come out of her strangled throat.

"What happened to him, ma'am?" the voice on the other end asked.

"There's an intruder in the house. My brother...my brother! Roman...oh God, Roman!" Covering her mouth, horror filling her, Alisha collapsed to her knees, the telephone receiver pressed to her ear.

"Ma'am? Ma'am?"

"I think my brother Roman is dead."

# Part II

**_Present Day_**

_...you must go home, Vanora..._

_Armando's words haunted her as she packed her bags. Though she didn't want to admit it to herself, she knew she would never return to her small apartment in South Austin. Her time here was at a close and all she had gained in this small city would now fade to memory._

_Tucking a long strand of white-blond hair behind her ear, she glanced at her cellphone. Armando had left a number for her to call once she made her decision. Biting her full bottom lip, she tried to ignore the fluttering inside her stomach. She could still feel the touch of his hand on her cheek and the cool power of his presence. It made her feel both vulnerable and safe._

_Settling onto the end of her bed, she picked up the phone and stared at her reflection in the black glass. Armando had called her beautiful. He didn't find her ghostly white skin and hair unsightly and thought the lavender shade of her eyes was enchanting. Maybe it was the flush he had brought to her face, but for once Vanora could see her rare beauty._

_Wiping a tear away, she activated the screen and quickly punched in the numbers she had memorized. The same number she had pretended to ignore._

_"Vanora," Armando's voice breathed, picking up after just the first ring._

_"You're right. I can't hide," she said, her voice tremulous._

_"So you're coming home..." Armando said. He sounded both pleased and sorrowful._

_"Yes."_

_"Then I will see you again soon."_

_Her heart beat a little faster as she licked her lips. "Yes."_

_"Then I am pleased," he said and ended the call._

_Clutching the phone to her breasts, Vanora took a deep breath before slowly exhaling it. Tears glittering in her eyes, her thoughts drifted to her family and the terrible fate that had befallen them._

# 7

**_Ten Years Earlier_**

**_2001_**

The police were disturbed by the atrocious death of Roman Socoli but determined it was not a murder. The deep tears in his neck and the claw marks on his body were indicative of an animal attack. One of the officers suggested a rabid coyote had wandered into the city limits. Nicolau Socoli, Alisha and Vanora's uncle, convinced the police not to release any information on Roman's death due to Alisha's state of mind.

Alisha was inconsolable and adamant that Roman's burial should immediate. Her uncle protested and the funeral home balked at the request. Furious, Alisha began making calls to Roman's highly placed friends and soon the way was cleared for his burial at the family estate, citing cultural and religious reasons Alisha concocted. It was the only time she had ever used the family's clout, and would not allow anyone to tell her no.

The funeral home was distressed by the insistence that Roman not be embalmed, nor his looks repaired. Alisha instructed them to clean up the body, place it in a coffin, and seal it with chains. Nicolau Socoli overhead this request and later instructed the funeral home to disregard the order for the chains.

* * *

The small group stood outside the mausoleum, the late afternoon sun dipping toward its resting place. Only six people were gathered around the mausoleum for the quick funeral. Alisha stood next to her younger sister, holding a black parasol over their heads. Both were dressed in nondescript black dresses that fell to their ankles and wore thick veils of black lace.

Uncle Nicolau and his wife, Crystal, stood next to them in funeral black. Their uncle remained stoic, though his gray eyes were filled with tears. He looked like an older version of Roman and his crestfallen expression spoke of the close relationship he'd had with his nephew. His wife stood next to him, her hand clutching his, the contrast between his pale skin and her dark skin vivid in the waning light. Weeping softly, Norma, Roman's longtime girlfriend, sat on a lawn chair, trembling with emotion while her father leaned over and attempted to comfort her.

The priest's words were faint and distant to Alisha's ears. Eyes fastened on the rose bouquet resting in a stone vase on the side of the small building, she lamented internally that someone had removed it from the handle where she had left it. It had probably been the gardener. Anger welled up within her. Because of one simple act, her beloved brother was dead.

Vanora whimpered softly and Alisha held her closer.

Alisha gazed upon the enormous coffin with fear. Her request for it to be chained had obviously been ignored. Everyone considered her to be hysterical with grief. She supposed she couldn't judge them for thinking her story overwrought. They didn't know what evil existed in the night as she did. It was utterly hopeless. It was if fate was determined to destroy her. Gazing up at the sky, she realized that night would soon be upon them and that meant...

Alisha watched through tear-filled eyes as the final rites were finished and the coffin her dear brother lay within was lowered into the mausoleum by employees of the funeral home. Uncle Nicolau moved to help, a tear finally escaping to trail down his cheek.

Lips trembling, she fought against the desire to follow the men into the mausoleum, find that horrible creature's coffin and pound a stake straight through its murderous heart. But then, wouldn't she have to strike down Roman also?

Weeping, Alisha lowered her head. What was she to do? How was she to fight the evil that was consuming their lives?

The sky darkened as the sun began to slip beneath the horizon.

* * *

Dinner was a quiet affair. Alisha hardly spoke and her aunt and uncle kept trying to console Vanora, who had not yet stopped crying since Roman's body had been discovered by the police unit responding to the 911 call. Alisha sat staring at her plate, unable to bring herself to eat. She couldn't concentrate on the conversation for all she could hear replaying in her mind over and over again was the vampire's promise to make her his.

Finally, Nicolau and Crystal kissed the girls goodnight and climbed the stairs up to the guest bedroom. Alisha and Vanora sat alone in the dining room. Vanora wiped the tears from her face with her napkin and looked across the table at her sister.

"It's dark outside," Vanora whispered.

"I know." Alisha stood up and threw down her napkin. She didn't mean to sound so abrupt, but fear and anger made it difficult to curb the sharpness in her voice. "I know. Come on. It's time for you to go to bed."

"But I don't want to go to sleep," Vanora protested.

Alisha took her hand firmly and pulled her from the chair. Without a word, she led her sister up the stairs and into the younger girl's bedroom. Vanora obediently followed, sniffing and rubbing her eyes. Her face was so red it stood out in sharp contrast to her white hair. Her purple eyes were red and swollen and tears continuously streamed over the curve of her cheek. She was a pathetic sight.

"Get ready for bed," Alisha ordered. She hated the sound of her own voice. It sounded so sharp.

Vanora sniffled loudly and started to tug off her funeral attire. Alisha drew a fresh nightgown from the dresser and tossed it onto the bed. She loved her sister, but she couldn't waste time consoling her. Time was running out for both of them. Giving her sister a little privacy, Alisha strode to the windows and made sure the windows were locked securely.

"Do you think Roman is awake yet?" Vanora asked in a tremulous voice.

Alisha glanced sharply at her sister. The ten-year-old stood a few feet behind her in her pale pink nightgown, looking both angelic and frightened. They had not spoken about the implications of Roman's death. The early morning when the police arrived to find his body had been a nightmare and the rest of the day a surreal blur. The truth of the matter was that Alisha had been consumed all day with the horrible thought of her brother stalking them, but she did not want to speak openly to her little sister about her fears.

"Do you think he's awake?" Vanora asked persistently.

"Snow Pea, I don't know."

"But he's going to wake up, isn't he?"

Alisha nodded, pressing her lips together to stop the scream that had been lodged in her throat all day from escaping.

A hiccupping sob escaped her sister's pink lips. "I don't want him to be dead."

Alisha rushed to her sister and knelt before her, resting her hands on her waist. "If you see him, stay away from him! Don't let him into the house!"

"I'm not stupid," Vanora retorted. "I may be a kid, but I do have a brain."

Alisha sighed explosively, rubbing her hands over her face. "I know, I know, sweet pea. I'm so on edge. I didn't mean to be short with you."

"I know, Alisha. I'm sad, too. And scared." Vanora slid her arms around her older sister's neck and kissed her cheek.

Nodding and fighting back tears, Alisha said, "I need to find someone to help me, but I'm afraid that no one will even believe me. Uncle Nicolau might, but I can't be sure."

"Do you think Uncle Nicolau and Aunt Crystal are safe?"

"I hope so, Vanora. They're very devout, so I'm sure they are wearing crosses. I hope that is enough."

"It wasn't enough for Roman."

"He wasn't wearing his." Alisha stood, her body trembling. She had found Roman's cross while selecting a suit for him to be buried in. "He forgot it on his dresser yesterday morning."

Stroking the cross around her neck, Vanora whimpered. "I don't want him to be dead."

"I don't either, Snow Pea." Alisha pulled back the covers to the bed. "Come on. Hop in."

"I want to sleep with you," Vanora protested.

"I'm not going to sleep tonight. I have to think, make plans. Perhaps we should have gone to Austin tonight instead of waiting until tomorrow. Maybe we should have run away last night." Would running away save them? She doubted it. "I have to think."

Vanora crawled into the bed and adjusted her cross. "But what about Roman? We can't leave him."

"Roman is a vampire now!" Alisha said sharply, her anger flaring.

"I don't want him to be," Vanora wailed in despair, her face contorted.

Alisha was instantly repentant. "Oh, Snow Pea, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I just feel so helpless. I shouldn't have said that." She sat on the edge of the bed and embraced her sister lovingly.

"He's still our brother! Is he really going to hurt us?"

"I can't believe that Roman could ever hurt us, but we can't chance it. If you see him, run!"

"Okay," Vanora said in a low voice.

Alisha kissed her sister's forehead. "Sleep now. Tomorrow we'll see what we can do."

"Okay," Vanora said in a shuddering voice. "I love you."

"I love you, too." Alisha walked to the door and pulled it open. She rotated the button on the doorknob so the door would lock when closed. "Good night," she said, reaching for the light switch.

"Leave the lights on!"

"Of course."

Alisha shut the door behind her quietly and strode up the hall to her room. Locking the door behind her, she felt much safer. The thick, sweet smell of the roses filled her room, comforting her. The curtains were drawn tightly over the windows and she knew the French doors were securely locked. Certain that she was safe, Alisha entered her gleaming bathroom and turned on the shower. After crying so much today and standing outside of the mausoleum, she felt stiff and dirty. A long hot shower would be a balm to her aching, tired body.

In her room, she drew a clean, fresh nightgown from her dresser and some lacy underclothes, which she laid out on the counter in the bathroom. Pulling off her dress, she caught sight of her red, swollen face. Sweeping her blond hair back from her face, she stared at her reflection. The blotchy red spots and swelling made her not even look like herself. The small cross glimmered between her breasts and she took it off and laid it gently on the counter. She didn't want it to discolor and she felt safe with another cross hanging on the doorknob.

Once in the shower, the hot, soothing water streaming over her body, Alisha started to feel a little better. She shampooed her hair gently and felt the muscles in her neck relax. Through the sound of shower spray, she heard a soft ringing. Turning off the water, she listened intently.

Grabbing a towel, she raced into the bedroom. Just before she reached the phone, it stopped ringing.

"Damn it," she muttered under her breath.

Shivering, she dried herself off, hoping the caller would call back. Hurrying back into the bathroom, she started to dress for bed. She was just pulling on her nightgown when the phone rang again. She snatched up her silver chain and fastened it about her neck as she ran into her bedroom and answered the phone.

"Alisha, this is Nicolau. Crystal heard someone knocking on our bedroom door. I was in the shower and she was spreading some of that beauty muck all over her face and told whoever it was to wait. Well, the knocking continued. For some reason, Crystal got very scared. She said she kept asking if it was you and there was no response. I called you a few minutes ago and you didn't answer. Were you over here? Tell me it was you, or Crystal is going to be calling the police. It was you, wasn't it?"

Alisha felt fear clutch her in its cold grasp. Someone was in the house. A door or a window must have been left unlocked. Was it Roman or the other one?

"Yes, it was me, Uncle Nicolau. I didn't answer her because Vanora is asleep and I didn't want to disturb her. I just wanted to wish you a good night. You do have your door locked, don't you?"

"Why do you ask?"

"There have been some burglaries in the neighborhood recently. Roman's death has me unnerved. I just think we should be careful."

"True, true. We lock our doors out of habit, so don't worry about us. I'll see you in the morning then, Alisha."

"Good night, Uncle Nicolau," Alisha said, fingering her chain, her expression thoughtful.

Hanging up, she snatched up the stake and hammer she had set on her bed stand the night before. Holding them in her trembling hands, she took several deep breaths. With a surge of confidence, she walked toward the bedroom door. She was tired of being afraid. She going to face the vampire and kill it. It was as simple as that.

The door shut behind her with a soft thud.

On the bathroom floor, a small silver cross that had slipped off its chain glinted in the light.

# 8

Roman awoke with a scream.

Frightened to find himself in total darkness, Roman struggled to capture a horrifying memory that lingered just beyond his recollection. Disoriented, he rubbed his eyes furiously, but still, they did not adjust to the blackness that surrounded him.

Where was he?

He wasn't in his room. It was never this dark.

What was happening?

Roman started to sit up, but his head cracked against something soft, yet unyielding. Confused, he lay back down, rubbing his head. Raising his hands, they nestled into a velvet cushion. Pressing harder, he felt a harder surface beneath the padding.

It was then he realized he was enclosed in some sort of box.

"What the hell?" His voice was a roar in the enclosed space.

Roman pressed his hands up, utilizing every bit of his strength. With a loud crack, the lid flipped open.

Roman scrambled to sit up, his hands grasping the edges of the container he had been trapped within.

His blood ran cold.

He was in a coffin within the mausoleum.

"Dear God in Heaven!" Roman's voice echoed through the vast chamber.

With great haste, he clambered out of the coffin and stood among his long-dead relatives. Incredible waves of fear engulfed him as he trembled in shock.

"What is this?"

A torch wavered above an open coffin several feet into the mausoleum. Roman approached it with trepidation. He recognized the coffin as the one that had been bound in chains. Staring into the empty coffin, he remembered gazing into the face of a demon while being lifted off the ground. His hand flew to his throat, the horror and searing pain of the memory piercing his mind. Instead of the gash that had been torn by long fangs, his hand touched smooth flesh.

"No, no, this can't be," he whispered.

The coffin before him was empty. Old, tattered clothes were shoved into one corner of the large coffin. The old one had risen. Alisha had been right. There had been a vampire. Correction. There _was_ a vampire.

"Then I'm-" Roman choked on his words. Running his hands over his face, he could feel no physical difference. All that he felt was fear and horror. "It can't be. No! No! No, this can't be happening. I'm dreaming. This is a nightmare. I am Roman Socoli!"

Yet, he was different. The shadows no longer hid secrets. With his new vampire power, he could see every little detail of the mausoleum's burial chamber.

"Oh, God," he whispered. "Oh, God."

The fear disappeared and rage engulfed him. Fury like he had never felt before consumed his body and mind and with a tormented cry, Roman lifted a fist above his head. He slammed it down onto the side of the old one's coffin. The wood split apart beneath the force of his blow.

Roman staggered back in shock, gaping at the damage he'd inflicted so easily. The sheer physical strength he felt throughout his body and the magnitude of his emotions were overwhelming. He collapsed against a pillar, buried his face in his hands, and wept.

As he sat in the mausoleum, a sorrowful figure sobbing uncontrollably, the power of an unfathomable desire grew deep within him. Roman was far too depressed at first to pay much heed to it, but then it felt as if a fire was spreading from his chest into his limbs. He pulled off his jacket and wiped his tears away. He had to think clearly and make plans. He would have to talk to Alisha and tell her what had happened. That he truly wasn't dead. Alisha had to understand. She believed in the supernatural.

An incredible pain ripped through his abdomen. In agony, he fell onto his side, writhing.

"The hunger speaks, my son."

It was that same horrid voice from the previous night. It drifted from the shadows lingering around the heavy doors.

Roman lay curled on the floor, panting and struggling to control the agony churning within him.

A tall, elegant man dressed in one of Roman's blue suits moved into the torchlight. His hair was silver and his eyes were a dark blue under heavy brows. His appearance was that of someone in their sixties and he gazed down at Roman with a wicked smile upon his thin lips.

"You have to feed, Roman. You are now what I am. You must feed as I must," the vampire said.

"You did this to me!"

"You need not thank me, my son. I give you the Dark Gift with great joy."

"Gift? It's a curse!"

The old man tapped Roman's knees with his foot. "I was so tired of being alone, my son, and now you have joined me. I am happy. It's been long since I roamed the night. Across the seas, I called to you and you answered."

Roman pressed his hands against his belly, the pain unbearable in its force. "No, no."

"Yes, I did. With the last of my power, I called to blood and blood answered."

Horrified that his noble actions could bring such evil into his life and that of his sisters, Roman shook his head adamantly. "No, it's not true!"

The old man chuckled. "I have been calling out for so many years, but you were the first to heed me. I grant you immortality in gratitude."

Shivering, Roman lashed out at the creature, but the vampire easily avoided him. "The sun has been down for three hours. It is nearing midnight. You have time to feed. Your Uncle and his wife are very snug in their bed, but unfortunately untouchable. Your little sister, Vanora, is also very safe. She is as pale as the moon. She will be a beautiful creature of the night."

"Don't hurt them, you bastard!"

The vampire laughed with amusement and leaned against Roman's coffin. "I have fed. It is you that must feed."

"Never! I won't hurt my family!"

"Strange," the old man said thoughtfully. "I awoke to this life with a hunger so powerful within me, I was quite mad until I fed. My wife was the one who joined me first, but the madness of the hunger never left her. She slew villagers by the dozen. They found her quite quickly and killed her." The old man fell silent, lost in thought. "Sometimes the madness stays with a vampire after they have fed. If the priest hadn't killed her, I would have had to in order to protect my other progeny."

Roman clawed at the pillar, trying to get to his feet. If he could collect one of the splintered pieces of the old coffin, he could end the nightmarish creature before him.

"When I was freed from my coffin this time, the hunger was sheer torture. I tried to feast upon the little glowing one, but she was wearing a damned cross. Your other sister, the one who resembles my dear dead wife, is also very clever. She chased me away with a cross she drew on some paper." He chuckled with delight. "But even the smartest ones make mistakes. I'm enchanted with her, Roman. She will be a beautiful vampire Bride. She is in your office right now. It was there she confronted me. Lucky for me, the cross had fallen from her necklace. She is there now waiting for you. Go to her. Let her join us."

"You bastard! I'll kill you!" Roman grunted with pain.

"I think not." The vampires smiled at him with dark pleasure. "Soon you will go mad with the hunger. It is inevitable. I already can see the madness in your eyes." He leaned toward Roman to stare into his eyes. "Yes, it's there. Tomorrow you will be more receptive to my words. As for now, I shall wander the streets and see how the world has changed since the hunters trapped me in my coffin."

Roman watched with hate-filled eyes as the old man's body melted through the crack between the two doors into the mausoleum and vanished.

"I have to get out of here," Roman muttered. He had to get away from Alisha and Vanora. He couldn't hurt them.

Unsteadily, Roman moved toward the doors. The darkness within him boiled and whispered to him, the predator within rising upwards. His veins burned as he pushed through the pain and found his strength. Without hesitating, passed right through the crack in the doors just his great-great-great-grandfather had.

The house loomed before him, majestic and ominous. He stared up at its darkened windows with longing. This was his home and he would never be able to enter it again.

The hunger hit him again full force. Suddenly the longing was not homesickness. Roman clenched his fists so violently that his nails dug deep into the flesh of his palms.

"No! Never!" he whispered hoarsely.

Swiveling about sharply, he deliberately strode across the darkened lawn and away from the house. As the hunger billowed within him, his steps slowed.

Alisha was in the study, waiting for him.

"No!" Roman forced himself to walk on.

Within a few minutes, he reached the high stone wall that enfolded the estate. Roman lifted his hands and touched the cold stone. Could he scale it? Another wave of the hunger washed over him and the incredible desire to return to the house tore at him. The madness was coming; he could feel it. He swung about and stared at the house barely visible through the grove of trees. The desire to feed was becoming overwhelming.

"I have to control it," Roman whispered into the darkness. He placed his hands once more on the wall and wedged his fingers between the cracks. With hesitant movements, he climbed the wall. It was far easier than he had ever imagined. Easily reaching the top, he hesitated as the urge to return gripped him once again. With a growl, he leaped off the wall. In the back of his mind, he wanted to break a leg or, better yet, his neck, and end this mad dream. Instead, he landed effortlessly and safely on the sidewalk.

"Damn!"

A quaint, middle-class neighborhood that surrounded the estate emerged and his hunger surged. He had to get away from these people too. He could no longer trust himself . Every fiber of his being yearned for the life-giving warmth of blood.

Roman ran blindly for several minutes, dogs around the neighborhood barking and howling as they detected his presence.

Turning a corner, a majestic church came into view, its steeple rising into the night sky. At once Roman felt white fire licking his skin, and he came to a halt before the house of God, where an inner light illuminated the stained-glass windows. This was his church, the church he entered every Sunday.

The hunger was unbearable now, ripping him apart. Clenching his hands, he fought against the desire to return to the estate and feed on his sister.

_I have to die!_

Roman moved toward the church, fighting the Holy Fire repulsing him. The crosses inset on the doors blazed to life, blinding him. Covering his face, he staggered off into the bushes lining the building. Desperate, he kicked in one of the basement windows and slid inside. Hot invisible fire burned against his flesh.

"Dear God, help me," he whispered as he moved through the darkened basement. He sat down in a folding chair and hugged himself protectively. "I did not ask for this curse. Have mercy on me, please."

The discomfort worsened as the minutes ticked by. The holiness of the church and the hunger plunged Roman into a living hell. Hands trembling, he pushed his sweat-soaked hair from his brow.

"Kill me, God. Kill me now," he moaned in anguish.

Then something snapped within him and the beast that was his hunger seized full control.

Desperate to escape the inferno of holy power engulfing him, he threw himself about the basement, furniture splintering. His crazed, glowing red eyes caught sight of the broken window and he leaped easily through it and hurled away from the church.

* * *

Rachel Williams slammed the door of her car shut and heaved her grocery bag onto her hip. The pretty young woman with ebony hair and skin hated working so late at the local supermarket, but it was the only way she could attend school. She started to take a step forward, then hesitated. She never felt safe after dark, but the boarding house where she lived appeared strangely ominous.

Presently, the only people living in the house were the elderly couple that was her landlords. Lately, acts of violence had not been isolated just to 'bad' neighborhoods but were spreading into the suburbs. She'd just read about a young woman her age getting raped in the mall parking lot. All day she had felt nervous and wasn't exactly sure why, but now, staring at the unlighted house, she felt uneasy.

"Hey, lady, can you spare some change?" a young voice taunted from the shadows.

Rachel stiffened. Slowly, she swiveled about to see a young man, unusually pale and gaunt staring at her.

_A junkie! Great!_

"No, sorry," she responded, rapidly walked up the drive to the porch. The fear inside of her rose steadily as the kid paced her.

"Hey, lady, I'm sick. I need medicine. Just a couple of bucks." The young man wiped his face on his filthy shirt. "Come on, lady, hand some money over. I'm needy."

The punk stepped in front of her, directly in front of the porch, blocking her way. She stopped in her tracks, her mind racing. She could run for the back door but if he were to catch her, things would be far worse.

"Okay, fine. Maybe I do have a few dollars. Let me check," Rachel said.

Setting her groceries down on the gravel drive, her mind was whirring with possible escape plans. She reached into her purse and fumbled about for her wallet. To her relief, her hairspray bottle was in there too. Pulling the money out with one hand, she kept the other in her purse around the hairspray. "Here you go."

The young man moved forward and took the few bills. His pale face suddenly flushed and his eyes become crazed with anger. "Five dollars! Are you fucking joking? Look, bitch, hand over the rest! This isn't enough!"

Rachel's eyes narrowed. The rest of her money was for her tuition and she was not going to turn that over. "That's all I have. I'm in school and barely making it."

The junkie's face contorted with anger. "I need my medicine real bad, lady, and it costs more than five fuckin' bucks! Give me everything that's in your purse!" He grabbed her arm, his sweaty face twisted in his desperation.

Rachel whipped out the hairspray and squirted it directly into the young man's eyes. He screamed with anguish, ducking away from her, his hands rubbing his eyes. Rachel ran the second he let go of her.

"Get back here, bitch!"

She ran as fast as she could with her purse clutched to her breasts, her shoes slipping on the gravel drive. When she heard the junkie coming up behind her, his tennis shoes scattering the loose gravel, she let out a desperate cry.

"Now you're going to pay, bitch," the addict's hateful voice hissed in her ear as he grabbed hold of her hair and painfully pulled her against him.

Rachel let out a terrified scream.

The junkie jerked her head back, nearly tearing her hair from her skull. The stink of his rotting teeth and rancid breath almost made her gag. "Shut up, bitch!"

There was no way she was going to obey him. "Somebody help me!"

Slamming her into the side of the house, the attacker pressed his body against hers, trying to grab her purse. "I said shut up."

"Fuck you! Somebody help me! Somebody call 911!"

"I said shut-" The junkie's words were cut off by a scream of absolute terror.

Abruptly released, she fell to the ground, the gravel cut into her palms and knees. The sounds of a scuffle sent her crawling toward the back door. There was a gasp, then abruptly, silence.

Rachel was almost to the back steps when she was lifted off the ground and pressed against the side of the house. A man loomed before her, his face hidden in the shadows. His large hands were on her shoulders and he was breathing heavily.

"Don't hurt me, please!" Rachel sobbed, raising a hand before her face.

The stranger unexpectedly took hold of her hand and sniffed it. Rachel became aware of the fresh blood seeping through the abrasions torn in her palm. He started to pull her hand toward his face, then hesitated. Very purposely, he turned it over and kissed the back of her hand.

"I'm sorry I frightened you, miss," a soft, cultured voice whispered. "Are you all right?"

"Yes," Rachel answered in a shaky voice.

"Good." He released her hand and staggered away.

Rachel didn't move while watched in fright as the tall man leaned over and picked up the unconscious junkie as easily as he would a child. He turned, and in the light emanating from the street lamp, she saw his handsome features drawn into a mask of sorrow.

Rachel waited until he disappeared down the street, then gathered up her groceries and ran into the house.

# 9

Roman stared at the unconscious, still white form on the floor of the mausoleum. He was himself once more; the hunger was gone. He didn't remember much after entering the basement of the church. He'd returned to sanity after he pressed that poor young woman against the side of her house. She had looked so terrified it had somehow shaken him out of his rampage.

Leaning over, he pressed his fingers against the junkie's wrist. He was still alive. Roman shifted the man's head and peered at the tiny red marks ringed with white on his throat. He expected to feel remorse, but as he had fed and the hunger had faded, he had felt nothing more than satisfaction.

"Maybe I'm losing my humanity," Roman said, and the words horrified him.

Roman bent down and adjusted the man's body into a more comfortable position.

"I need you for tomorrow night. Sleep until then."

Roman stood and slipped through the mausoleum doors. He could trust himself now. The hunger was quenched, no longer raging through his body and pushing him toward madness. He had to check on Alisha and see that she was alive. Every door and window was locked, and he was reluctant to force his way into the house and cause alarm. Finally, he found one window in the kitchen open. Roman slipped through with ease and hurried to his study. He was almost there when he began to feel a sense of dread.

The door was ajar and lamplight burned within the room. His heart thudding in his chest, Roman pressed the door open. Alisha immediately came into view. She was sprawled on the floor, her arms thrown back over her head. Blond hair covered her face and Roman hurriedly knelt to push it back. Her still face was very pale and her breathing was jagged, her chest lifting without rhythm.

"Oh, Alisha, I should have listened to you," Roman whispered emotionally. He spotted the stake and hammer tossed into a corner and sighed. "And you are so brave."

He tilted her head gently, exposing cruel mangled punctures on her throat. They were healing over and somehow he knew that by morning they'd only be slight marks on her skin. Roman tenderly drew her nightgown over her legs to protect her modesty. Anger welled within him as he realized how brutal the old one had been with her. Bruises were forming on her pale arms but, thank God, she was still alive.

"I'll take care of you, Alisha. I won't let him get to you again. I won't let you become what I am," Roman swore vehemently.

He lifted her into his arms and carried her up the stairs to her bedroom. Laying her on her bed, he saw that what the old man had said was true. Her small, silver cross was absent from her chain. The heavy smell of the roses was beginning to make him feel as he had in the church, but not nearly so much. He fought against the pressure weighing upon him and covered his sister with her comforter. He then began to search for the small cross.

Alisha would never have left the room if she had realized the cross her mother had given her was missing. Alisha and Vanora were fairly fanatical about keeping the silver crosses about their necks. Carys had given them to the girls when they were very young and made them swear to never take them off.

Finally, Roman spotted the cross in the bathroom. He knelt down and stared at it for a long moment. "Please God, I need to protect Alisha. I realize that I am under a curse now, but please have mercy and let me pick up the cross."

His fingers touched the cool metal and he lifted the tiny cross carefully. Then, for an instant, he thought of the junkie lying in the mausoleum. It was as though the cross caught fire and the power threw Roman back. He lay on the floor in shock, processing what had just happened, then sat up. Reaching for the cross, he thought only of protecting Alisha from evil. When his fingers plucked the tiny cross from the floor, it did not repel him. Keeping his thoughts on Alisha, he carried it to her side and, with shaking fingers, restrung it onto the silver chain.

Feeling somehow refreshed and hopeful, Roman slipped the chain over Alisha's head and about her neck. He patted her hand gently and smiled. Perhaps, somehow, he could remain himself. Human. Not a beast driven by bloodlust. The clock in the hall began to chime. It was six in the morning. The sun would soon be rising.

Roman left his sister sleeping and rushed down the stairs and into the study. He snatched up the stake and hammer and left through the kitchen window. Racing down the lawn, he could see the horizon beginning to lighten. For the first time in his existence, Roman was afraid of the beauty of the morning sunrise.

Feeling very lightheaded and weakened, Roman entered the mausoleum. Staring at his empty coffin, he could not imagine living his life being forced to sleep within it during the day. The idea of sleeping in it even today did not appeal to him whatsoever, but he didn't have any other choice. Grudgingly, he crawled into it and hid the stake and hammer under the satin pillow. He was not about to close the lid, so he stared into the shadows waiting for the old man. Instinctively, he knew killing the old man face to face was impossible. He had a feeling that even though he was younger than his relative, the older vampire was the stronger one. His only choice was to try to awaken before the old man and kill him in his coffin.

A scraping sound informed Roman that the vampire had arrived. The old man emerged from the shadows and glanced disdainfully at the junkie.

"I would suggest that after you feed off of him tomorrow, you break his neck. It will prevent him from becoming a revenant. We don't need a rabid vampire desecrating our feeding grounds."

Roman pointedly ignored him.

The vampire glanced into Roman's coffin and grinned. "How did it feel to feed, Roman? Did the blood feel warm as it flowed down your throat and gave you life?"

Roman reached up and slammed the coffin lid down.

The vampire's laughter taunted him in the darkness as the sun rose and Roman instantly fell asleep.

* * *

Alisha awoke when Vanora shook her. She blearily stared at the girl, feeling very tired and drained of all her strength.

"What is it, Snow Pea?"

"It's very late, Alisha. Why aren't you up?" Vanora asked, crawling onto the bed.

Alisha glanced over at her clock. It was already past noon. "It's that late?" She sat up and swept her blond hair from her face. A wave of vertigo struck her and she sank back onto her pillows.

"Get up, Alisha. We're supposed to go to Austin," Vanora whined.

"We are?" Alisha asked, her mind feeling muddled and confused. "Austin?" Anger erupted inside of her. "Well, I'm not going!"

"Why not? What's wrong, Alisha? Tell me."

Alisha narrowed her eyes, trying hard to think clearly. "I don't want to go," she repeated firmly, though she wasn't sure why. "I'm staying here."

"Alisha, are you sick?" Vanora asked worriedly, touching Alisha's brow.

"Yes, I'm sick! Now leave me alone!" Alisha drew the covers over her head and closed her eyes.

"But we have to kill the vampire and make sure Roman stays locked up. We have to go to Austin and make plans," Vanora's voice whispered through the comforter.

Alisha grunted. What fantasies was her sister indulging in now? She was tired, depressed, and very short-tempered. The sun was blazing through the windows, but she didn't feel strong enough to get up and draw the curtains.

"There is no such thing as vampires and Roman is dead. Don't be making up stories about him."

Vanora drew back the edge of the comforter and her anxious eyes stared down at her sister. "Did Roman get you?"

Alisha sat bolt upright in bed, her face flushed and full of rage. She grabbed hold of her startled sister and drew her close. "Roman is dead! Gone! And there is no such thing as vampires!"

Vanora began to cry, her bottom lip quivering. "We have to kill it, Alisha! It's going to get us!"

Alisha's eyes grew wilder, more intense. "You stay away from the mausoleum and don't you dare tell anyone about your strange fantasies! You go to Uncle Nicolau and tell him we are staying here! Obey me, Vanora Socoli, or you'll be sorry!" Alisha hissed through clenched teeth.

Vanora sobbed in despair. "It got to you, didn't it? What am I supposed to do?'

"You stay away from me and that mausoleum!" Alisha responded viciously.

Vanora scrambled off the bed, her tiny face defiant. "I'll take care of you, Alisha. I'll bring things to protect you."

Alisha reached up and tore the cross from her neck and hurled it across the room. "Take this and these awful flowers and stay away!"

Vanora picked up the cross, her voice catching in her throat as she spoke. "You need this or it will get you again!"

"Get out!" Alisha screeched.

Vanora reluctantly left the room and shut the door behind her.

Alisha leaped across the room and locked the door.

# 10

Vanora stood in the doorway of her bedroom a few minutes later while her Uncle Nicolau pounded on Alisha's door and called out to her. Crystal knelt beside Vanora, her perfume hanging heavily in the air, and patted her back, trying to soothe her. Vanora wept uncontrollably.

"She's just upset about Roman, Nick. Leave her alone," Crystal said, sounding exasperated.

"We made plans. She just can't back out of them. We have our own children, Crystal," Nicolau responded. His eyes flashed with anger and his mustache twitched. "Alisha, talk to me please."

"I'm not leaving and that is final!" Alisha shouted. "Leave me alone!"

"We already discussed this, Alisha. I don't think it is wise for you and Vanora to be alone right now. Please be sensible."

"No!"

Vanora threw her arms around her aunt. "You have to make her go, Aunt Crystal!"

"We're trying, honey."

Vanora could only think of that awful creature lying in the mausoleum. He must have gotten to Alisha. She wasn't acting like herself at all. Her older sister was never cruel. How could she, a mere child, defend her sister and protect herself against a vampire? Vanora fought back her tears. Her uncle had to get Alisha away from the house. He had to save them. But if she said anything, she was positive they wouldn't believe her.

"Alisha, if you are going to be unreasonable, then we are going to take Vanora and go home," Nicolau said crossly.

Suddenly the door banged open and Alisha emerged, looking pale and slightly crazed. Her eyes, ringed with purple, were wide and unblinking. Her golden hair tumbled around her shoulders and brow wildly. Without a word, she leaped for Vanora and yanked her from Crystal. "No! She stays! We both do!"

"Please, Alisha, be reasonable. We have to return to our own children and you can't stay here in this awful house. We have plenty of room," Crystal said in a gentle, coaxing voice.

Alisha held Vanora closer. Her eyes appeared wild, inhuman. She took several gasping breaths and then spoke in a much calmer voice. "This is our home. We belong here. Go on. We'll be all right."

"You don't look healthy," Crystal answered. "You're so pale."

"I'm not feeling well," Alisha conceded.

"Then come with us and let us take care of you," Nicolau said triumphantly.

"No!" Alisha shouted, then calmed herself down. "No, it is best if we stay here."

"Vanora, are you going to come with us or stay here?" Crystal asked in a gentle voice.

Vanora stared upward into the face of her sister, who responded by turning cold eyes upon her. If she ran away, Alisha would become the same thing as that awful creature. Then everyone she loved would be gone. Vanora took a deep breath and said, "I have to stay. She needs me."

"I won't let you take her anyway," Alisha said in a harsh voice.

Nicolau threw up his hands. "I don't understand, Alisha."

Alisha seemed to go blank for a second, then nodded. "We are a family, Nicolau. I know you don't understand that, but Roman was like a father to both of us. Now only I am left to take care of Vanora. If I take her away now, then we will both suffer because this is our home."

Their uncle exchanged wary looks with his wife but finally said, "Very well. I don't see that we have a choice except to bow to your wishes for now. But if this erratic behavior continues, we may need to look into revising Vanora's guardianship. We never protested Roman taking care of you and we didn't argue when he had you added as a guardian, but if you don't pull yourself together..."

"My brother just died! You can't judge me for being upset!"

Nicolau sighed, rubbing his brow. "Very well. We need to get on the road. I wish you would come, but, I don't see that happening. We want you to keep in touch with us, Alisha. We care about you and Vanora."

Alisha nodded briskly. "Okay, that's fine."

Vanora stared at her worriedly. Alisha was being curt and rude. She wasn't acting like herself at all. How was a little girl supposed to fight against this kind of brainwashing evil?

* * *

The long shadows thrown by the trees surrounding the Socoli home lengthened and caressed the great stone building as the sun sank below the horizon. The house was silent and no one moved with its walls.

The eldest sister slept, haunted by terrible dreams that she could not wake from.

The younger sister curled up on her bed, clutching a cross tightly in her hand.

In the mausoleum, the vampires slept. Both dreamed of their plans for the approaching night. One dreamed of blood and victory, the other dreamed of murder and revenge.

# 11

Vanora stared out the hall window, toward the mausoleum silhouetted against the darkening sky. Dressed in jeans, tennis shoes, and a pink long-sleeved shirt, she kept watch over the fading sun from behind her dark sunglasses. Around her neck hung seven of the crosses Alisha had bought earlier in the week. The rest of the crosses Vanora had placed in Alisha's room for protection. Vanora's basic plan was to watch for the vampire and when she saw it emerge from its tomb, run into her sister's room to defend her. She wasn't quite sure if she could actually kill the vampire by throwing a handful of crosses at it, but the little girl was very determined to save her sister.

Her small, elfin face was reflected on the window pane and she stared solemnly at her pinched, frightened expression. She had to be brave and strong like the vampire hunters in the movies and like Buffy on television. For Alisha's sake, she just had to be.

The sun's rays faded from the sky and glimmering stars began to appear above the clouds. Vanora took off her sunglasses and narrowed her gaze on the mausoleum. It would happen soon. She raised Roman's binoculars to her eyes. The heavy metal doors abruptly came into clear focus.

It was only a few short minutes before thin, blue mist started flowing out from under the doors. It spread across the lawn like wispy fingers reaching for the house. At first, Vanora wasn't sure what was happening, but quite suddenly it dawned on her. The vampire was coming.

Dropping the binoculars, she ran down the hall to Alisha's room. Her small hand rounded the doorknob and turned it. To her horror, it was locked even though she had left it unlocked earlier. Frantically, Vanora began to pound on the door.

"Alisha! Alisha, open the door! It's me! Vanora! Alisha, open the door, please! It's coming, Alisha! Open the door! The vampire is coming!" Vanora called out fearfully.

* * *

Alisha stood in the center of her room, the crosses that Vanora had hung about her room dangling from one hand. Her eyes were wide and dazed, completely unseeing. She did not hear her sister's frantic cries, only the whispering voice calling to her softly. Oblivious to all but that haunting whisper, she walked into the bathroom and dropped the crosses into the commode.

* * *

"Alisha, please, Alisha!" Vanora screamed in horror. "It's coming to get you! I need to protect you! Oh, please, Alisha!"

* * *

The mist flowed in waves, undulating toward the house as the first feathery tongues licked up against the stones of the manor. The bluish haze swirled and pressed along the house. Deliberately it snaked upward, toward the balcony where a young woman stood in a long flowing black nightgown.

* * *

Roman awoke with a start. In the distance, he heard Vanora calling out in terror. Without thinking, he sat up and smacked his head against the lid of his coffin. Grunting, he flipped it back and leaped out. One swift glance informed him that the old man had risen.

Roman ran toward the doors and passed through the crack between. Then he was rushing toward the house, his feet slipping on the dew-drenched grass. If the old man touched his sisters, Roman knew he was capable of ripping him apart.

* * *

Vanora suddenly realized that Alisha was not alone in her room. She heard a man's voice speaking in a language she did not understand but was vaguely familiar. Chills flowed over flesh, raising goose pimples, and Vanora stepped back fearfully.

What had happened to the crosses she had placed in the room? Why weren't they working?

She glanced about anxiously, unsure of what to do. She was very much alone and the aura of the house seemed menacing now.

"Alisha," she whispered fearfully. "Please, Alisha."

There was silence beyond the door.

Vanora slowly backed away, clutching the crosses over her heart. "Alisha!"

* * *

Roman reached the house and tried the first door he came to. It would not yield. He rushed to a window when he heard Vanora screaming their sister's name.

"The balcony!" Roman muttered under his breath and ran toward the corner of the house.

An intense, savage anger mixed with desperate fear churned within him when he saw Alisha's pale form draped over the stone railing of her balcony. The old man stood behind her, gazing down at Roman. His gray hair was now shot through with black and his face appeared more youthful.

"You bastard!"

"Now she will join us. My blood is in her veins. Soon my Bride will join us, my son," the old man declared.

"Alisha, open the door! I need to help you!" Vanora's faint voice called from within the house.

"Ah," the vampire said, lifting an eyebrow. "The young white one." He moved purposefully into Alisha's bedroom.

"No!" Roman shouted.

Grabbing the thick ivy growing up the wall, he easily crawled to the balcony. His eyes fell on the still, pale form of his sister for a moment before he hurriedly pursued the vampire into the room.

The old man stood by the door to the hall. He pivoted about to face Roman, his eyes dark and intense. One long, slender hand settled on the doorknob. "Join me, Roman. Let us bring her over together. Then we shall truly be a family."

"Never!" Roman stepped purposely toward the old vampire.

"You will change your mind," was the confident response. "The hunger will come soon. Then you will have no choice." The old man yanked the door open and pounced on the little girl standing outside.

"No!" Roman shouted, rushing forward.

A wild scream sliced through the air and the old man staggered backward, his charred face illuminated by the pale moonlight spilling into the hall. Vanora stood before him defiantly, her crosses held before her, her eyes hard and determined.

"Leave me alone!"

"You little bitch," the old man roared in Romanian, cringing away from the little girl.

With a surge of confidence, Vanora held up her crosses and moved toward the injured vampire.

Roman seized the vampire from behind in an iron grip and yanked him into Alisha's bedroom. Vanora screamed in terror when she saw her brother. Grunting, the old man struggled against Roman fiercely.

"You will not hurt anyone else!" Roman hissed through clenched teeth.

Roman strained to keep hold of the writhing vampire as he reached out to grab the stake Vanora had left next to Alisha's bed. His fingers curled around the smooth wood shaft.

"You cannot kill me! I am your Master! My blood is within you! You will obey me!"

"No, I won't!"

Roman rammed the stake straight through the old man, blood spurting into the air. The vampire screamed, wrenching himself away from Roman. Thrashing about, the creature screeched in horror as his blood poured from his body. It pooled on the floor for a moment, then began to move swiftly toward Roman. Fascinated yet repulsed, Roman watched his ancestor's blood rapidly flow to his feet, then snake over his shoes to soak into his soaks and start to absorb into his body. Already the blood that had sprayed out over him had disappeared into his flesh. Roman experienced a sudden rush of pleasure just before he was almost completely overwhelmed by the power he felt escalating within him.

The old vampire shrieked, his body wasting away into a grotesque, gaunt creature. It cursed Roman in Romanian, spitting his words out with fury. Finally, his body wasted, his blood power absorbed into Roman, the vampire threw himself against the mantel of the fireplace. A fire erupted within his chest and with one last great shriek, he was consumed. The fire burned brilliantly, then nothing remained but ashes drifting across the floor.

Roman stared at the remains of his tormentor before falling to his knees, overwhelmed. He knew he was free from the creature's power, but he was still a vampire. He'd hoped that perhaps his mortality would return with the death of his creator, but it had not. He was now a greater, stronger vampire than before, the blood of his Master giving him power above that which he had before.

Then he remembered Vanora. He was almost afraid to look up and see the terror in his sister's eyes. The fact that she was afraid of him was almost too much to bear. He heard her small footsteps run past him toward the balcony. Roman stood and moved toward Vanora, who was trying to pull Alisha's body off the balcony railing.

# 12

"Alisha!" Vanora whispered, tugging on her sister. "Alisha, wake up!"

"She can't hear you, Vanora," Roman said gently.

Vanora glanced at him fearfully. "Stay away, Roman!" She had seen him slay the vampire, but she didn't trust him. The blood shed by the old vampire had pursued Roman and soaked into his skin. Vanora doubted that was a good thing.

"I won't hurt you. I'm your brother."

"I can't trust you. You're a vampire!" Vanora answered, large tears dripping from her white lashes.

"Vanora, I'm your brother!" Roman responded fervently.

"You're dead!" Vanora's voice was a wail.

Alisha's body slipped off the balcony rail and fell into Vanora. The little girl tried to catch her, but her older sister's weight dragged them both to the floor in a heap. Vanora cried out in fright when she saw the long rivulets of blood that flowed from the gaping wound in Alisha's neck. She pressed her hand against her sister's wounded neck, attempting to stop the bleeding.

"You can't help her," Roman said gently, his eyes filling with tears.

"No! She just fainted!" Vanora responded firmly.

"She will be what I am," Roman whispered. Despair filled him and he edged closer to his sisters. "Let me check on her."

"No!" Vanora fumbled with her crosses.

"I won't hurt her and I won't hurt you, Vanora," Roman said earnestly. The look of horror in Vanora's eyes pierced him to his very core. "If I do anything strange, you can use those crosses on me."

Vanora stared at him pensively, then at her sister. She didn't know what to do. Alisha felt so cold in her arms. Vanora was afraid she really was dead. She loved Roman with all her heart and she had always trusted him completely before, but now things were different. He was something other than human, transformed into a monster from her silly horror movies. Even his dark eyes seemed different, penetrating and intense. Vanora stared at him through her tears, wanting so desperately to throw her arms about him. But she couldn't believe Roman. In fact, Alisha had told her to run if she ever saw Roman again.

Vanora bent down low. "What do I do?" she asked her silent sister.

Roman knelt beside them. "Please, Vanora, let me check her. I'm worried about her. I won't hurt you or Alisha. Please, Snow Pea."

"Don't hurt her! If you do, I'll burn you with these!" Vanora scooted back from him and sat cross-legged a few feet away, her crosses held out defensively.

Roman crawled quickly over to Alisha and gently turned her head so he could better see the wounds on her neck. Already the ragged punctures were fading away and her skin was cool to his touch. With his fingers, he carefully pried her lips apart and exposed her teeth, which looked longer and sharper beneath her pale gums. As he was examining her, Alisha's face suddenly seemed to grow fuller, rosier. He placed his hand over her heart and felt nothing.

"What's wrong, Roman?" Vanora asked softly, her hands fidgeting with the crosses.

Roman took a deep breath and yanked off his coat. Laying it over his sister's still form, he looked up at Vanora. "Snow Pea, don't be scared. I'll take care of you."

"But you're a Vampire!"

"I'm still Roman Socoli, your brother," Roman said passionately. "I will always take care of you like I promised. Remember, family honor. Do you understand?"

Vanora's bottom lip was trembling and long streams of tears rolled down her face and dripped off her chin. "I want to believe you."

Roman smiled at her and suddenly, beneath his hand, he felt Alisha's heart start to beat and her chest heaved. She was now breathing peacefully, the blue tinge gone from her features.

"She's alive! I knew it!" Vanora exclaimed happily.

"Snow Pea, alive the way I am," Roman corrected. "She's now a Vampire."

Vanora's face crumbled with despair. She slumped forward, the crosses hanging loosely from her slackened hand. "Are you going to kill me, too?"

"I didn't do this, Snow Pea," Roman said defensively. "That old man did this to her and to me. I killed him to protect you."

"You're really not going to kill me?" Vanora asked hopefully. Roman, who now seemed so dark and powerful, was beginning to seem like more her brother. It was becoming harder to believe that he would actually harm her in any way.

"I could never do anything to you or Alisha. When she wakes up, she is going to be very scared just like I was."

"Was it icky?"

"Yes, it was. I want to be here for Alisha." Roman drew back Alisha's top lip past her gums and saw the twin, razor-sharp teeth beginning to grow out above her regular teeth. He lifted one of her slim hands, the hands of a gifted artist, and studied her nails. They were longer and sharper just like his. "I'm going to put her in her bed now, Snow Pea."

Vanora just stared at him in awe.

Roman lifted Alisha into his arms and carried her into her bedroom. Her face was serene, but it gave him no comfort. Tenderly, he placed Alisha on her bed and covered her with the satin comforter. He turned and saw Vanora standing on the threshold.

"What are you going to do?" she asked softly.

"Stay with her until she wakes up," Roman responded.

"And she'll be like you," Vanora whispered.

"Yes," Roman answered. "But she won't hurt you. She will be Alisha, but different. Like I am."

"How?"

"You're very young and I don't know how to explain this to you. I am Roman Socoli but I don't feel any of the inhibitions I did when I was mortal, physically, mentally, emotionally." Roman noticed his sister's confused expression. "Okay, Snow Pea, it's like waking up like Superman. Strong and powerful, but you can only come out at night."

"And you drink blood."

Roman rubbed his eyes wearily. "I'm trying to forget that part. I'll find a way around it or something. Now, listen carefully. Tomorrow, I want you to tell Miss Robbins that Alisha isn't feeling well and does not want to be bothered. Then tell Ryan and Miss Robbins to come to my study at seven o'clock for a meeting with Alisha."

"You're going to bite them?"

"No, no. I need them to help me. I'm not sure what I am going to tell them, but I'll think of something. If I'm to survive and take care of you, I will definitely need their help. And tomorrow night, when you see Alisha, don't be afraid of her. She'll probably be more frightened and upset than you will be." Tears filled his eyes and he struggled to contain them. The intensity of his emotions was difficult to deal with, but he would have to learn to adapt.

"Don't cry, Roman," Vanora said worriedly. "Please, Roman, don't cry."

Roman smiled at her tenderly. "Vanora, I am going to take care of you. I promise. Now, go to your bedroom and make sure your crosses are in place."

"I thought you said you wouldn't hurt me," Vanora said, her eyes narrowing.

"It is just in case there are any other vampires out there that will hurt you," Roman answered.

"Why aren't they hurting you now?" Vanora asked, holding her crosses slightly before her.

"Because I am not thinking evil thoughts, or doing evil," Roman replied. "If I ever mean to hurt you, your crosses would repel me. But don't worry about that. I will never hurt you. Now, go to sleep. Tomorrow, make sure to do the things I told you to do," Roman instructed.

"I'm afraid," Vanora whimpered.

"Don't be. I won't hurt you and I won't let anyone else hurt you." Roman gently patted Vanora's cheek. Her hand tightened on her crosses, but she didn't cringe away. "You're a brave little girl and I will do everything in my power to protect you, Vanora. I love you. I am so proud of you. Now, go to your bedroom and crawl into bed. Alisha can't tuck you into bed tonight, but perhaps tomorrow."

Vanora nodded and walked back toward the door. "When she wakes up, take care of her, Roman."

"I will. I promise, Snow Pea."

Roman watched the door shut quietly behind Vanora and sighed heavily.

How he was going to make this work was beyond him. He was now something he could not fully understand. The extent of his new powers had yet to be explored. Emotionally he felt no barriers. When he had felt like killing, he had done just that. When the desire to embrace his little sister had filled him, it had taken all his willpower to hold back.

Now, gazing upon Alisha, Roman felt deeply depressed. He leaned down and tucked the blankets in around her. Somehow he knew that Alisha would not awaken until the next night, so it was safe to leave her locked in her room. She wouldn't wake up in a cold coffin, confused and frightened. She would be in her bed, safe and sound, with him there to comfort her.

Satisfied, Roman left the room. Now that he was fully in control of his faculties and the old vampire was vanquished, he could make plans for his family.

Downstairs, he flicked on the kitchen light. He found a full bottle of white wine in the refrigerator and poured himself a glass. The liquid calmed his nerves, so he poured himself another glass. The gleaming white kitchen was spotless, as always, and it comforting to see that all was normal within the house. It was almost impossible for him to believe that he'd been declared dead and buried, and yet, he sat in his home enjoying a glass of wine.

Roman ran a hand through his thick curls. Feeling dust in his hair, he glanced down at clothes and realized how grimy he actually was after all the events of the night.

After finishing up his glass of wine, he rinsed it out and placed it in the drainer.

Roman leisurely ambled through his house, appreciating every room and enjoying the feeling of being in his own home and not in the damned mausoleum. His mind was made up. He would not be shut out of his own home and he would find a way to continue on as he had. One thing would be certain: he would not be sleeping in a coffin and draining his neighbors. He would act as normally as possible. He would simply be Roman Socoli if that was at all possible.

His body relaxed when he entered his bedroom. It was a relief to find it just as he had left it. The room was decorated with some of the few pieces of furniture that had been salvaged from the estate in Romania. Running his hand along the heavy chest next to the door, Roman felt almost normal. It was difficult to reconcile everything that had occurred within his very rational mind, yet he knew it to be the truth.

Peeling off his burial clothes, he turned on the shower in the blue tiled bathroom. When the room was full of steam, he stepped under the hot stream of water. It felt good to feel the hot torrents of water washing away the filth that coated his body. He enthusiastically scrubbed shampoo into his dark hair until he felt fresh and clean.

Afterward, Roman dried off with a fluffy towel and peered into the mirror. To his great surprise, he had a reflection. It was slightly transparent, but nonetheless, a reflection. Roman ran his hands over his face and leaned toward the mirror. His dark eyes burned with an intensity that they had not held before. On impulse, he pulled up his top lip to see what he had felt the night before. Sure enough, there were twin fangs retracted above his regular teeth.

"What do you know?" he murmured.

On impulse, he tried to make his fangs slide downward. Nothing happened. Roman's brow furrowed and he tried again. Still nothing. Then a thought occurred to him. Roman deliberately remembered his attack on the junkie. The two fangs slid down over his other teeth, white and gleaming. Abruptly, his refection vanished.

"Interesting."

Roman lowered his head and wiped the violent thoughts from his mind. He took several deep breaths and felt the fangs retract. Looking into the mirror, he was relieved to see his reflection again.

"Someone once said the mirror reflected the soul. I guess it does." Roman leaned against the counter and rubbed his brow. It was all too much for his brain to process.

Shaking his head, Roman returned to his bedroom and dressed in his favorite gray sweater and dark corduroy slacks. Feeling more relaxed and normal, Roman shoved his feet into his well-worn leather slippers. It was beginning to feel like a very normal evening.

Yet it was not.

He was forever changed.

Leaving the serenity of his room, Roman checked in on Alisha. She was sleeping peacefully, looking fair and beautiful on her satin pillows. Next, Roman tested Vanora's door and found it locked. Satisfied that his sisters were safe and resting in peace, Roman hurried down the large oak staircase to the main floor and briskly walked into his study.

It was exactly as he had left it. The leather chair crackled as he sat down, an old familiar sound. He ran his hands over the armrests, then pulled open a desk drawer. The business deal he had been working on when he had been killed was directly on top. The facts and figures meant nothing to him now.

Roman stood and searched a cabinet where he stored his leather journals. After selecting a new one, he returned to his desk and pulled out a pen. He stared at the blank page for a long moment, sighed, and rested his chin on his fist.

"Where to begin?" he wondered aloud.

His eyes roamed the room as he sat in silence. Everything was the same and yet, he was different. He turned to a fresh page and wrote at the top "Goals" and underlined it.

"I want to remain Roman Socoli and not become a beast," he whispered as he wrote. "Therefore I shall not kill innocent people but I will find a new way to feed. Animal blood, perhaps? I will continue to live in my house and sleep in my bed as I always have. I will find a way to control my estate even though that means revealing myself to Uncle Nicolau." Roman paused and pressed his fist against his mouth as he pondered the situation. "I will cling to God and fight this curse. I know that evil thoughts do nothing more than steal from my soul, and also from who I truly am. I must control this horrible hunger, the beast within. I will protect Alisha and Vanora, even if it means my death. If such a time comes that I would ever hurt any of them, I will kill myself."

The words began to flow as he continued scrawling his thoughts across the pages of the journal for the next few hours. When Roman felt his limbs growing weary at last, he looked at the clock. It would soon be sunrise. Was it true that he could not go out in the daylight? He closed his journal and stored it in his desk.

Roman hurried upstairs and into Alisha's room. He pulled the curtains shut and secured them with safety pins. No sunlight could get in, just in case the legends were true. Nervous and edgy, he paced restlessly.

"How do I know if the legend is true?" There was only one way.

Entering the hall, he stepped back into the deepest shadows and stared out the window at the far end of the hall. The sky was growing lighter, indigo turning to softer shades of lavender and blue. Gray shafts of light began to trickle through the window and onto the floor and Roman hesitantly stepped closer to the window. Pinkish-gold ribbons gleamed just above the horizon and Roman moved even closer. Pale beams of morning sunlight fell on his skin, fiercely hot, burning his flesh.

With a muffled cry, Roman fell back into the shadows. His skin was not scorched, just reddened slightly. Now he knew. The sun could harm him.

"In darkness, we must abide," he whispered sadly.

# 13

The house was full of shadows.

As Vanora walked through the halls of her home, she felt as though she dwelt alone in a nightmare world. The once comfortable surroundings seemed strange, even menacing. Yet she had faith in Roman. Her beloved brother had promised to take care of her and since he was a loyal man who honored his family above all else, she believed him.

Soon Alisha would be awake and Vanora would have her family back... in a strange and different way.

Vanora paused in the doorway leading into the kitchen and watched the middle-aged Miss Robbins hurry about. She wasn't really a miss: she was actually married to Ryan, the gardener, but Vanora had always known her as Miss Robbins and continued calling her that even after the housekeeper had married. Miss Robbins had a strong, stocky figure and shocking red hair streaked with white that she twisted into a braid that hung down her back. Her freckled face was always graced with a grin and laugh lines surrounded her green eyes. She liked to tell how she had left her native Ireland when she was a child because "Too many bombs going off is not good for my health," and how the Socoli's had taken her in. Vanora could not remember a time when Miss Robbins had not been in her life.

"What you be wanting?" Miss Robbins inquired when she became aware of Vanora. "A little snack perhaps?"

Vanora casually walked over to the housekeeper, who was busy kneading bread dough. "What's for dinner?"

"Dinner is a good six hours away, dear," Miss Robbins responded, eyeing Vanora thoughtfully. "I'm believing that you've got a bottomless pit for a stomach."

"Can I have some dough?" Vanora asked, leaning against the counter.

"Put some flour on your hands," Miss Robbins instructed.

Vanora rubbed her hands over the heavily floured wooden board, and Miss Robbins yanked a bit of dough off the lump in her hands.

"Here you go."

Vanora tugged on the dough with her fingers, her mouth set in a somber line. "Alisha wants to see you and Mr. Ryan tonight in Roman's study at seven o'clock. I forgot to tell you earlier. Are you mad?" Vanora felt nervous and unsure of herself. Was she doing the right thing by helping Roman?

"Nah, there's no reason to be mad. You told us in plenty of time. Will Alisha be eating with us or is she too sick?"

Vanora rolled the dough between her fingers thoughtfully. "I think she's too sick... kind of."

"Well, I'll make some for all of us and put a bit aside for her." Miss Robbins flashed her wide grin and dropped her dough into a large bowl and covered it to let it rise. "Are you going to make that into a wee loaf?"

Vanora balled up the dough and stared at it. "I think I mushed it up too good. Maybe I'd better throw it out." Her face was very somber. "I don't think it's any good for anything."

Miss Robbins studied Vanora worriedly. "Well, maybe we can make some cookies later on," she suggested.

"No, I don't think so," Vanora responded. She walked over to the sink and rinsed the flour off her hands. I'm going to be in my room. I have to do some thinking."

"Not playing?"

Vanora shook her head solemnly. "I have things to think about."

With a sigh, she wandered back into the murky corridors of the house.

* * *

Miss Robbins watched the moody child leave the kitchen, her hands plunged deeply into her jean pockets. It wasn't right for such a young thing to be so serious. After losing her brother, and in such a ghastly way, it was expected for Vanora to be upset. Instead, she seemed preoccupied and downright grim. She didn't even seem to be mourning Roman.

She shivered inwardly. Her dream last night was right. Something was seriously wrong in the house.

* * *

As the sun sank beneath the horizon, its pink and gold rays faded into a dark, cloudy sky. Windows began to light up in the imposing house and the clatter of people cleaning up after dinner mingled with the moaning of the wind.

Night had come.

# 14

Alisha's eyes snapped open, her hands clutching the quilt. Eyes wide and staring, she flipped her covers off and sat up, her body tensed. Her limbs were on fire, an unbelievable hunger, a deep dark desire, was spreading through her. Golden threads of hair fell about her shoulders as she slid off the bed. Her bare feet touching the cold floor, her black nightgown dissolved into the night about her.

"Alisha," a voice called out behind her, but she did not acknowledge him. Her senses were concentrating on one thing: the powerful, unbelievable hunger that was raging through her body.

She needed to feed.

* * *

"Alisha!"

Roman scrambled out of his makeshift bed and rushed toward her. This time his sister seemed to hear him and whirled about. Her eyes glowed brightly with the madness of the hunger. The hands at her sides were flexed, the fingers outstretched like claws. Roman was shocked at the inhuman appearance of his sister's face. This was not the Alisha he knew. Her golden hair fell about a feral face with flushed cheeks and eyes like coals on fire

"I want to help you," Roman said soothingly.

Alisha hissed.

"Please, Alisha. It's me, your brother, Roman," he persisted, stepping toward her.

A low growl rumbled through her chest. The ruby lips drew back, exposing long fangs sliding downward.

Roman hesitated too long. She evaded him, flung herself at the door and wrenched it open. Roman was after her in a second, tripping in his haste. Her long slender body appeared weightless as she sprinted down the hall toward Vanora's room.

"Alisha!"

The vampire turned on him, hissing. The hunger distorted her features, yet she was incredibly beautiful, more so than before. She threateningly growled at him while gripping the doorknob to Vanora's room. Roman was a few feet from her but he knew her newborn predator instincts made her faster than he was. He had to reach through the madness somehow.

"Alisha, you don't want to hurt Vanora. Please come to me."

"Vanora," Alisha said in a quite normal voice. The fiendish expression on her face was chilling. "Open the door, Vanora."

"Alisha!" Vanora's excited voice called out from within the room.

"Yes, it's me. Open the door, Vanora." Alisha's eyes were narrowed slyly. She grinned at Roman, her long teeth gleaming.

The door started to open and Alisha tensed to pounce. Roman sprang forward and caught her about the waist.

"Shut the door, Vanora!" Roman ordered.

The child had hardly cracked the door, but she immediately obeyed.

Roman rushed down the hall, the writhing vampire hissing and growling furiously. When they reached the windows at the end of the hall, Roman leaped through the glass panes. The explosion of shattering glass filled the night, then his feet touched the ground. Alisha almost slipped free, but he forcefully held her to him. Her sharp nails tore into his skin savagely as she fought to be free. The ferocity of her screams and gaze were terrifying.

The dew-covered grass was slick beneath his feet and he slipped, falling. Alisha wrenched free, scrambling away. He caught her, and she slashed him across the face. Rage filled Roman and he slapped her, knocking her over.

"Stop it, Alisha!" he roared. Taking several deep breaths to calm himself, Roman pinned her to the ground.

Hissing savagely, Alisha struggled against him.

Roman's anger subsided, replaced by overwhelming depression. Tears flowed as he pulled his raging sister to her feet. Resolute, he pulled her toward the mausoleum. Her sharp nails tore at the hand grasping her wrist, but his hold only tightened.

The mausoleum loomed before them, dark and grotesque. Roman passed through the closed doors easily and drew Alisha in behind him. Once inside, he hurled her toward the unconscious drug addict. With a howl of delight, Alisha fell on him, her nightgown spreading out about her like a cloak. The savagery of her attack was horrifying and Roman turned away.

The hunger growing within him tortured his senses while he listened to her feed. Reluctantly, he gazed at her form draped over the pale young man. Knowing he had to feed, Roman knelt. The fear and pain of what he had become mingled with the need to eat. Alisha sensed him near her and lifted her bloodied face and growled.

Roman covered his face with one hand and sank onto his heels. This was a nightmare. At that moment he wanted to die but knew he had to care for his sisters. It was his duty. He had to protect his family. Roman grabbed one of the man's wrists. Long teeth descending, Roman growled and bit into the yielding flesh.

It was nearly a half hour later when he heard a scream that jostled him from his bloodlust. He raised his head to see Alisha gaping at the bloody punctures in the junkie's throat. The hunger was gone from her eyes and replaced by horror.

Alisha lifted trembling hands to her face to cover her eyes and saw the dark crimson blood staining them. With a frightened cry, she cowered against the cold stone wall. Trembling, she gawked at Roman as he wiped the thick blood from his mouth.

"Alisha," Roman whispered.

Alisha frantically tried to wipe the blood from her hands on her nightgown.

"Alisha." Roman gently touched her shoulder.

Large, terrified eyes turned to him. "You're dead," she whispered.

Roman took her hands gently and wiped the blood from them with the bottom of his shirt. "No, I'm not. Remember what happened. I'm now a vampire."

She blanked for a second, then she gasped. "Yes, I remember! Oh, Roman! Oh my God!"

"You tried to warn me, but I didn't listen to you."

"You died!" Alisha's hands fluttered to her face. "Then I went to kill it!"

"Your cross had fallen from your chain. He fed off of you."

"Oh, God! I remember," Alisha uttered in a hushed voice.

"I tried to stop him from getting to you, but, last night-" Roman cut himself off. "Do you remember yesterday?"

"Your funeral."

"No, that was the day before," Roman said, shaking his head.

"I had dreams, Roman, that I was a puppet and someone was controlling me."

"That was yesterday. He was controlling you. I felt his thoughts flowing toward the house. Last night, he killed you. Then I killed him, but I was too late for you. I'm so sorry, Alisha."

Alisha looked puzzled, then terrified. Lifting her cleaned hand, she touched her fingertips to her wet lips, drew them away, and stared at the fresh blood on them. Her wide eyes settled on the form of the junkie.

"No! Oh, God, no! It can't be!" Alisha wailed.

Roman held her close as she cried mournfully, her entire body quivering. "We'll find a way to conquer this curse, Alisha."

"I want to die! I want to die!" Alisha sobbed. "Please, kill me!"

"I can't, Alisha," Roman whispered, stroking her hair.

"I don't want to live like this. I killed that man!"

"Please listen to me," Roman whispered vehemently. He took her face in his hands and piercingly gazed into her eyes. "I will find a way to protect us, save us from all of this. We will not feed off humans again. We do not have to take life. I will find a way to save us from this horror. We are still Alisha and Roman Socoli!"

Alisha closed her eyes, as though unable to gaze upon her hideous surroundings. "Please, Roman, please wake me up," she pleaded.

Roman pressed his forehead against hers, tears slipping down his face, mingling with hers. "I am your brother. I will protect you. I promise it."

"Make the dream end, Roman," Alisha sobbed. "Please make this nightmare end. Wake me up, please."

"It's no dream, Alisha. We are transformed. We are no longer mortal, but we can fight against what we are now. We will fight for our humanity."

"But we're not human!" Alisha protested. "I feel it inside. I know I'm not who I was!"

"But you are! You are Alisha Socoli! You must always cling to that fact, or you will become what you fear most." Roman held her tightly to him, wishing desperately to soothe her fears and his own, but the living nightmare would not end. They were supernatural creatures of the night, kneeling within a dark, dank mausoleum, the dead surrounding them, welcoming them to this world of endless darkness.

Alisha drew a ragged breath. "I want to die."

"Think of Vanora, Alisha. What will become of her?"

"She's not one of us?" Alisha face registered the horror of the mere thought of the desecration of an innocent child.

"No, but she needs us. She knows what we are now and I have spoken with her. She knows we will not hurt her."

"How can you be sure?"

"We've fed and there is no danger of us going mad with the hunger anymore. As long as we feed before the hunger can fully control us, we are safe around her. She needs us, Alisha. And we need her. We are a family. Tell me. Would you ever hurt her?"

"Never!"

"Neither would I," Roman declared. And yet the memory of Alisha's madness made him wince inwardly. The hunger was so powerful they must always control it. "We will find a way to survive.

Alisha drew away from him and peered down at the junkie. "Who was he, Roman?"

"A drug addict who got his drug money by harming others," Roman responded. "But that doesn't justify his death.

Alisha licked the blood from her lips, a casual gesture, and touched the dead man's hand. "I'm sorry."

Roman prodded him with his foot. "I will not add another to our ranks."

"If you break his neck, he shouldn't change," Alisha responded without thinking.

"Where did you learn that?"

"A book," Curious, Alisha ran her fingertips over her face. "Do I look the same?"

Roman studied her face, ethereal and delicate in the torchlight. "You are more beautiful."

"Can I see myself? Or is the legend true?"

Roman leaned forward and took her hands tenderly in his. "You can see yourself as long as there isn't evil in your soul. We seem to have a tenuous hold on our souls. We need to guard them against evil."

"Will God ever forgive us, Roman?" Alisha's eyes were bright with tears.

The family was deeply religious and Roman shared her fears. He chose his words carefully when he answered, drawing on all his years of church attendance. "I believe God always forgives the truly repentant. I still believe that is true for us."

Alisha nodded, blinking the tears from her eyes. "Yes, I think I do, too."

Roman stood and pulled his sister up. He gently wiped her tears away and kissed her forehead.

# 15

In silence, Roman quickly broke their victim's neck and enclosed him in his own casket. Alisha watched with a strange detachment that bothered her. Though a part of her was horrified at her new nature and what she had done, she did not feel the remorse she knew she should feel over Roman's actions.

"I'm still Alisha Socoli, aren't I?" Her voice was shaded with doubt. She felt as empty and desolate as any tomb and all she desired was relief from this nightmare.

"Yes, always. I know that you will overcome this curse. As will I," was Roman's impassioned reply.

Hope burgeoned within her. A piece of her always trusted Roman. He always took care of her and made sure she was safe. "I want to believe you, Roman."

Taking Alisha's arm firmly, he escorted her out of the mausoleum and locked the doors firmly behind them.

"We will never return," Roman assured Alisha.

Nodding absently, Alisha stood gazing into the velvet sky above. She was transfixed by the absolute beauty of the heavens, the dark richness of the indigo sky and the brilliance of millions of stars shining upon her. Alisha lifted her hands over her head, stretching upwards. The wind caressed her body, gently blowing her golden hair away from her enraptured face. Alisha could feel herself becoming one with the night, the sharp lines of her former reality spreading into infinity as her body loosened its earthy heaviness. She was one with the wind and sky and the eternal night.

* * *

Roman watched his sister in awe as she spread out her arms and allowed her body to ascended, caressed by the wind. She hovered like a dark angel, her eyes lifted upwards, an expression of pure pleasure illuminating her face.

"Alisha," Roman whispered.

She didn't respond.

"Alisha," Roman repeated.

Dreamily, she lowered her eyes to him. "Roman, this is so beautiful. Like a dream."

"Alisha, we need to get back to the house. Don't you want to see Vanora?"

"Of course I do," Alisha responded breathlessly, obviously delighted at her newfound freedom from the laws of nature.

"And we need to talk to Ryan and Miss Robbins about helping us," Roman continued.

Alisha didn't seem to hear him. Gaily laughing, she floated away from him toward the house, her long nightgown fluttering behind her like black wings.

"Well, she's still crazy," Roman muttered under his breath, then ran after her.

* * *

Alisha floated to her balcony before settling on the rail, her bare feet rested on the cold metal. With a bright laugh, she ran into her room and danced about in circles. She felt so free, so powerful. This was glorious! Something moving beside her caught her eye and she twirled about and stared into her full-length mirror. Her joy vanished as she gazed at her transparent reflection. She wasn't in heaven. She was in hell.

"Oh, God!" Alisha cried out and threw herself on the floor.

Roman found her weeping uncontrollably. "Alisha, darling, what's wrong? What happened?"

She sat up, wiping her tears away with the back of her hand. "I don't know! I just can't seem to control my emotions ! One minute I'm happy and the next I just want to die!"

"I understand. This is too much to absorb all at once. But we need to get our lives organized, and quickly at that. Listen, in thirty minutes we are to meet with Ryan and Miss Robbins. I need you there. I'm going to try and convince them to help us survive."

"You think they can?"

"I'm hoping so" Roman ran a hand over his face and exhaled wearily. "I certainly hope so, for all our sakes. So could you dress quickly and meet me down in the den?"

"If I can stop crying, I think so."

"Good. Now, I'm going to check on Vanora. You'll be okay?"

Alisha nodded. "Yes, I think so."

Roman kissed her forehead and moved quickly out of her room. Alisha remained kneeling on the floor, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. Gazing blindly upwards, she whispered a silent prayer.

* * *

"What does she look like?" Vanora asked as soon as Roman entered her bedroom.

"Just like before. Maybe prettier." Roman sat on the soft pink bedspread and tousled Vanora's white tresses lovingly. "So are you excited?"

"Are you sure she's okay? When she came by earlier, you took her away."

Roman could see fear creeping into his young sister's eyes and he laid a comforting hand over hers. "She wasn't ready to see you yet. She was still a little messed up from transforming. She's fine now."

Vanora studied him warily. "For real?"

"For real? Do I ever lie to you?"

"No, but..." Vanora touched his hand lightly. "You're so cold now."

"But I'm still your brother." Roman tilted his head so he could look into her purple eyes. "Right?"

Though he was pale with death, Vanora's skin was far whiter. Roman realized, with a sharp pang of sorrow, that she had always lived in the shadows of the world.

"Yeah, you are." A small smile spread across her rosy lips. "I can see it in your eyes."

That response elicited a bright smile of his own. "Alisha is just like me. I promise."

"I've been worried all day. I just want things back the way they were, you know."

Roman smiled. "I know that, Snow Pea. So do I. So does Alisha. And we are going to do our very best to try and make sure we keep together as a family."

"Family honor," Vanora decided.

"That's right. Family honor."

"Besides, it's kinda cool having a brother and sister who are vampires. You aren't going to go sucking the blood of the neighbors, are you? Because if you do, I can make you a list of some really nasty ones."

Roman couldn't help but laugh. "Vanora! My goodness! No, we aren't going to be sucking the blood of the neighbors. I'm going to try to work something out with Ryan's help."

Vanora considered this development, her face tightly screwed up. "Well, okay, but I still think that cat-killer, Mr. Jergen, deserves to get chomped."

There was a light knock at the door before it opened to reveal Alisha. Dressed in a white t-shirt and jeans, she looked like her normal self. Awkwardly, she entered the room, her eyes unable to meet Vanora's.

"Alisha!" Vanora flung herself off the bed into Alisha's arms.

"Oh, Snow Pea," Alisha choked, her eyes welling with tears.

"I love you!" Vanora sobbed.

"I love you, too, Snow Pea!" Alisha kneeled and gently held Vanora away from her so she could gaze into the little girl's trusting eyes. "We are going to take care of you, dearest. Roman and I will always love you and take care of you."

"And I'll take care of you!" Vanora vowed solemnly. "And Roman!"

"Then everything will be just fine," Roman decided and grinned.

# 16

Alisha sat behind Roman's desk in his study, reading his journal with fierce intensity. Her lips moved slightly while she read, her brow furrowed as she concentrated. Roman sat nearby distracting Vanora with magic tricks. It was a hobby of his and he was actually really good at sleight of hand.

Alisha was horrified and yet fascinated by her brother's account of his mortal death and vampire resurrection. It touched her to read how much he desired to protect his sisters and his fierce yearning to maintain his humanity. Reading quickly, breathlessly flipping the pages, Alisha consumed her brother's story with almost religious fervor.

Roman wrote with such intense passion she could feel his terror as she read and yet the intensity of his humanity had not disappeared. Roman was not just a vampire hating his new existence. He was like an ancient Greek god, struggling to control his inner power to prevent the destruction of those he loved. All of Roman's life he had struggled to gain some sort of control over his life and now that he had this incredible power he could wield at will, he wanted to use it to preserve his family. Alisha had admired her brother before, but now he was her mentor. When she finally reached the last page filled with Roman's sprawling handwriting, she shut the journal reverently. Looking at her brother, she could not help but feel awed by him.

"Roman, I don't know what to say," Alisha finally said.

Roman plucked a coin from Vanora's ear and just shrugged. "I just want to do what's right. Do you trust me?"

"Always," Alisha responded fervently.

There were heavy footsteps outside the door, then a quick rap on the wood. It was Miss Robbins' familiar knock. She opened the door and peered about the edge.

"Is it time for the meeting yet, Miss Alisha?" she asked. Then Roman caught her eye. "Oh, Lord! Sweet Jesus, Joseph, and Mary! It can't be!"

"Roman's back," Vanora said nonchalantly.

Miss Robbins crashed through the doorway in a dead faint. Her plump body landed on the oriental carpet with a soft thunk. Roman rushed to her side and knelt over her.

"Did you see how she fell? Straight down! Just like in the movies!" Vanora commented in awe.

"Is she hurt?" Alisha asked worriedly. She hurried over and bent over the fallen housekeeper.

"She just passed out. I don't think she hit her head very hard," Roman responded.

"What's this?" Ryan, the gardener asked as his gangly frame appeared in the doorway. "What's Ellie doing on the floor?"

"She passed out when she saw Roman," Vanora responded as she studied Roman's magic quarter.

"Roman?" Ryan's eyes fell to the man leaning over his wife. His dead master looked up at him and Ryan nearly fell over in fright.

"Ryan, let me-" Alisha started.

Ryan was halfway down the hall before she could even finish her sentence. His long, skinny legs pumping hard, he skidded around the corner and made a dash for the front door. Roman and Alisha pursued him. Roman moved faster than the wink of an eye and abruptly appeared before the fleeing man, one hand held out to stop the gardener.

"Ryan, please, you don't-"

Ryan spun about on his heel and shoved the door to the dining room open. Racing blindly, he bounced off furniture, and nearly tripped as he burst into the kitchen. Alisha skirted around him, elated at her swiftness. She twisted about and caught him firmly.

"Ryan, listen to me! You don't need to be afraid! You have to listen to us!"

"Roman's back from the dead, he is! Back from the dead! I saw his throat ripped out, plain and simple, just two days ago!" Ryan shouted wildly.

Roman came up from behind them and laid a gentle hand on Ryan's shoulder. "Ryan, I'm not here to hurt you."

Ryan shrieked and backed through the kitchen door. Knocking over a chair, and falling over one corner of the dining room table, he made a dash for the front hall. Alisha was much faster and caught him firmly with one hand.

"Ryan, we are not going to hurt you!" Alisha said firmly.

"How'd you-You were in there!" Ryan declared, pointing a trembling finger toward the kitchen.

"There is much we have to tell you," Roman said joining them.

Vanora leaned against the doorjamb and pocketed her quarter. "Yeah, like they're both vampires."

Ryan gasped and passed clean out, his limp body falling into Roman's arms.

"Thanks a lot, Snow Pea," Alisha sarcastically muttered.

Vanora just shrugged and smiled. "It was fun."

* * *

Two hours later, Ryan sat transfixed in Roman's study, sitting on the edge of his seat. The poor man had recovered from his initial shock and disbelief and now, after hearing all the facts, he believed everything that Roman had explained to him. His wife, Ellie a.k.a. Miss Robbins, sat next to him, her hands clutching his hand so tightly he had lost all feeling in it about an hour before.

"So tonight, Alisha woke up. It's my intention for us to continue on as before, with just minor adjustments to our life," Roman said as he wrapped up his incredible tale.

"He's dead," Miss Robbins whispered to Ryan. "We shouldn't talk to the dead."

"Shush," Ryan responded. "You're dead to the world, Mr. Roman. What are you going to do about that?"

"My intention is to go to my Uncle Nicolau and make some sort of arrangement with him so I can continue to have some influence over my company through him. I know I'm dead to the outside world, but my sisters are important to me. Instead of leaving them to live a life elsewhere, I intend to stay on the estate with them. In a few years, I figure I'll be able to go out and about to some places that I didn't use to frequent. As for Alisha, she is still alive to the outside world. She can continue on with her life, the only hindrance is that she has to live her life at night now."

"He's a devil, Ryan! A devil!" Miss Robbins muttered under her breath.

"It's Mr. Roman, Ellie!"

Roman sighed and rubbed his brow wearily. "I said I wouldn't hurt you. I don't want to hurt anyone. That is the primary reason I called you here."

"To suck our blood! Mother of God, help us!" Miss Robbins cowered in her chair.

"Don't you trust Roman?" Vanora asked, frowning.

"I don't trust this devil in his guise!" Miss Robbins responded.

"Be quiet, Ellie!" Ryan said sharply. Slowly, nervously, he stood up. "Look, Mr. Roman, I feel really bad for you, but I've got to know. You're not going to drain my blood, are you?"

"Ryan, I would never do that. I thought I'd made that clear in my story. I don't want to kill humans for blood, but I do need it in order to have the strength to carry out my plans. That is why I need your help."

"Do I have your solemn promise on your family honor that you won't hurt Ellie and me?"

"I promise," Roman said warmly, extending his hand.

Ryan hesitated, then, setting his thin lips into a determined line, shook hands with Roman. "Then I help you, the best I can."

"You're being a fool, Ryan!" Miss Robbins grumbled.

"Be quiet, Ellie!" Ryan stood up straight and tugged on his jacket nervously. "How can we be of service?"

"Well, we will need your protection during the day. Make sure that no one disturbs us in our rooms as we sleep, that sort of thing. Also, you once told me that your brother raises cattle for the slaughterhouse."

"Oh, I see. You need blood for nourishment. Cow blood might do you nicely."

"We'll need to try it, but I think we should be able to survive that way. Some of the old legends speak of vampires attacking farm animals when they couldn't get to humans," Alisha said.

"My brother's ranch is not too far out of Houston. I'm sure if I go and see him tomorrow, he'll help us out. I may have to tell him the truth, you know."

"Can you trust him?" Alisha asked worriedly.

Ryan grinned, flashing all his white teeth. "To tell the truth, he'll be thrilled out of his mind. Our Pop always told us plenty of tales when we were growing up. I didn't believe them, but my brother did. My brother believes in everything from U.F.O.'s to Nessie of Loch Ness. He'll be thrilled. I'm sure of it."

Miss Robbins was staring at her employers, her face contorted in her confusion. It was clear that she wanted desperately to believe that she was safe, but she was struggling with the fact that Alisha and Roman were no longer human. She fingered her crucifix nervously.

"Miss Robbins," Alisha said gently, "if we ever act like we want to hurt you, just raise that cross and we won't be able to go near you. If our intent is evil, anything holy repulses us. Besides, we won't require you to be here in the evening after dinner. We would like you to stay here during the day with Vanora, fix her meals and look after her. After dinner is done and the dishes are cleared away, you are free to go."

"Oh, well, I-" Miss Robbins faltered. She looked at her husband for support and he nodded at her encouragingly. "Well, I suppose that's fine. The young one will need me now."

"I'll get you your blood every day. Say a gallon each?" Ryan asked, pulling out a tattered notepad.

Alisha looked at Roman, who shrugged.

"We don't really know, actually," Roman said after an awkward moment.

"Well, we'll find out, won't we? Anything else, sir?"

"We'll be sleeping in our rooms. It's best if you let us alone during the day. We'll change our own bedding and leave out our clothes to be washed in the hall. I understand Miss Robbins's discomfort, so I think it will be best if we keep our interaction minimal," Roman said in his soothing tones.

"You're a good man still, Mr. Roman," Ryan said with a smile.

"That's something I really wanted to hear. Now you will have to take Vanora to school in the morning also, Ryan."

"That's fine. Anything else, sir?"

"Round us up a couple of virgins each night," Roman added with a wink.

Alisha snorted.

Vanora rolled her eyes.

Ryan chortled. "Yes, you're the same, sir."

"Is he joking?' Miss Robbins asked anxiously.

"Of course, he is!" Alisha said, laughing.

* * *

Vanora listened to the adults talking while playing with the cards Roman had given her. A slow smile slid across her lips. All of the sudden everything seemed back to normal just the way she wanted it. Alisha looked so pretty and happy. Roman was smiling just like he always did. Only Miss Robbins didn't seem like her normal self, but Vanora thought it was funny the way she kept crossing herself.

"See, everything is okay," Vanora said aloud suddenly.

Roman gave her a loving glance. "Didn't I promise that, Snow Pea?"

Alisha pulled her sister close and kissed her. "We're together."

"Forever," Vanora added.

* * *

After all was quiet in the house, Roman in his study, Vanora tucked into her bed, the servants long gone, Alisha sat alone in her room weeping. For a short while, she had been able to convince herself that all was normal once more in her life, but it was now painfully evident that everything was different. From the way she looked to the way she felt within herself. She now understood the heights of euphoria and the depths of despair. There were no longer boundaries on her emotions. The invisible barriers that kept love from becoming obsession and anger from becoming a murdering rage had dissipated. Physically, she felt the growing intense power of her vampiric nature. In her despair, she had punched her hand through the solid oak door to her bathroom.

Now, staring at the splintered hole, Alisha started to sob again. Her entire body responded to her hopelessness and she fell over onto the bed, burying her wet face in the pillow. Every fiber of her being was shuddering with emotion.

A gentle hand rested on her shoulder.

"Alisha," Roman's voice said softly.

She gazed upward into the concerned face of her brother.

"I heard you crying," he explained.

"I want to die, Roman. I can't face this!"

Roman sighed as he sat next to her.

"I know I acted better for a while. I mean things didn't seem so bad for a short time, but then I remembered! I remembered what I did!" Alisha pounded her fist against her chest. "I killed someone! I don't deserve to live!"

"Ryan is going to get us animal blood," Roman reminded her.

"Blood! Blood, Roman! Listen to you! Blood!" Alisha cried out, her fists clenched fiercely. "Blood! We need blood!"

Roman tried to calm her by patting her hand, but she sharply drew it away. "Don't you see what has happened? What _is_ happening? How can you be so calm?"

"Because I have to be," Roman responded in a low, tight voice. "If I let the fear I feel overwhelm me, I won't be able to function. I just can't let it get to me. I _am_ Roman Socoli no matter what else has changed. If I have to drink blood, so be it. Some people eat blood sausage and the brains of some animals, and they are mortals. We have to do what we have to do to survive."

"I'm terrified of what I am! I'm afraid of what I am capable of doing!" Alisha exclaimed.

"You are Alisha Socoli!" Roman said vehemently, seizing her hands. "Alisha Socoli, my sister, that has not changed."

Despair filled her eyes. "I'm not the same, Roman. Not completely. I feel it inside. If I embrace this new power completely, the power I feel buried within me, I don't know what I will become. And that terrifies me!"

"Then never embrace it," Roman said sternly. "I know I never will. Tomorrow I am going to contact Uncle Nicolau and ask for his help. I will keep a hold of my mortal life."

"We can't do this!"

"What do you want us to do? Lie in chained coffins until we rot away? Throw ourselves into a fire? Stake ourselves? Leave Vanora alone to be raised by Uncle Nicolau and Aunt Crystal? Tell me! Tell me what to do!"

Alisha lowered her head. "I do want to live...but not like this."

"We won't kill for our food. We won't sleep in coffins. We won't wander in the night like mindless zombies. We will stay here, in our house, sleep in our beds. You can continue to paint. You are not dead to the outside world. You can go shopping, go to the movies, visit friends--after the sun sets, that is. You are much freer than I am. I am dead to everyone out there. We can be with Vanora in the mornings before sunrise and be with her after sunset. We can live as we did before, just within limits."

"I can paint," Alisha said softly, clearly considering his words.

"Yes, just as you always have. You can continue with your career," Roman encouraged her.

Alisha brushed the tears from her cheeks and forced a smile. Still trembling, she ran a hand through her blond hair. "I can make this work, can't I?" she murmured under her breath, her face thoughtful. She scrambled off the bed and rushed over to her mirror. She gazed at her new, strange reflection and wiped the remainder of her tears away. "I'm still here. I'm still me," she whispered. "I am Alisha Socoli."

The darkness inside of her wanted to eat away her soul and twist her into something evil, but she would fight it. For herself, Roman, and for Vanora.

There was no other way.

# Part III

**_Present Day_**

_The darkness of night felt absolute around Vanora's car as she drove toward Houston in the early morning hours. A steaming cup of coffee from an all-night gas station fogged up the windshield, and she flipped on the defroster._

_Shirley Manson sang about being only happy when it rained, her voice pouring out of the car speakers. Vanora tended to listen to Garbage when anxious. Her pale fingers tapped lightly against the steering wheel. Though exhausted, she was determined to make the nearly three-hour trek back home before she lost her nerve and fled back to Austin._

_Sipping more coffee, she was glad for the sweet rush of sugar and caffeine._

_The headlights caught something large fluttering over the road ahead. It was too large to be an owl. Vanora slammed the Styrofoam cup back into the cup holder and leaned against the steering wheel, scanning the gloomy, overcast sky. Again, she saw a large shape swooping low over the trees._

_Braking hard, she pulled the car onto the shoulder of the road, gravel, and dirt spewing into the cool night air. Her hand gripping the cross around her neck, she stared into the small area saturated by the light from the car's headlamps. At the very edge of the light, there was something – or someone – standing in the gloom. She could barely discern the outline of the figure against the blackness of the night._

_Was it Armando? Or was it HIM? The nightmare man who haunted her and was coming to destroy all she held dear._

_"Armando?" she whispered._

_The wild thumping of her heart battled with the beating of the drum in the song pouring through her car speakers._

_"Armando?" she said louder._

_The phone rang beside her, making her start. The screen revealed Armando's number. Already the digits were burned into her memory._

_She answered, her fingers and voice quivering. "Armando?"_

_"Drive," he ordered. "Don't stop again. Just drive."_

_"Is that you in front of my car?"_

_"No. Now drive!"_

_Dirt, rocks, and dry grass bloomed into a thick cloud in front of the car and pelted the windshield. Vanora floored the accelerator and jerked the car back onto the road. Two shadowy figures hurtled past the passenger side of the car and vanished into the murk, filling her rearview mirror._

_For just a second, glowing eyes gleamed in the glow of the car's rear lights._

_Gasping for breath, Vanora drove much faster than she should have along the winding road. Tall trees loomed over the road, obscuring the sky._

_The phone rang again._

_Vanora pressed the phone to her ear, her breath caught in her throat. "Armando?"_

_"I won't let them hurt you. Keep driving," he said._

_For a second, she glimpsed him standing at the edge of the road, dressed all in black, watching the car speed past._

_"You're not alone," he said. "I'm here."_

_Her car hurtled onward in the direction of Houston._

# 17

For the next four years, the Socoli siblings lived their lives according to Roman's plans.

Roman continued to have influence over the business matters of his company through his Uncle Nicolau. After seeing his recently buried nephew alive and well, it wasn't very difficult for Nicolau to believe in Roman's rebirth as a vampire. Also, he had been raised listening to his grandmother's tales of a vampire within their own family and he was dismayed at the realization that all her wild stories were true. Saddened by the situation, Nicolau at first wanted to take Vanora to Austin to bring up with his own children but soon realized that she did not want to be parted from her brother and sister. So, their loving and loyal uncle vowed to assist them in any way possible.

After his revelation to his uncle, Roman dedicated his life to raising his youngest sister. After she was asleep, he spent hours collecting his thoughts on his evolving life as a vampire. Though he was saddened by the loss of his relationship with his girlfriend, he felt it best to not reveal himself to her and allow her to find a new love to build a life with.

Meanwhile, Alisha pursued her art career. Obsessed with painting the sun, sunrises, and sunsets, her ability to capture the beauty and harshness of light garnered the admiration of many art aficionados. According to critics, her paintings writhed with vivid emotions. Soon, her artwork was featured in multiple galleries in Texas.

Alisha enjoyed her success but kept her most disturbing paintings locked away. These were paintings that abruptly altered beneath her brush to become dark and menacing. One that was especially disturbing was of herself completely transformed into the epitome of a vampire. She had painted herself emerging from the mausoleum, dressed in white, hair swept back from her pale face, fangs bared and hands outstretched, seeming to reach out of the canvas. It was her secret pain, her secret fear. She kept it hidden with her other disturbing pieces, hiding it even from her brother. Roman was so pleased with how successfully he had fashioned a safe world around them, she was reluctant to share her deepest fears with him. Knowing Roman, he would worry that he was somehow failing her.

As for Vanora, she adjusted easily to her new life, seeing her brother and sister before sunrise and after sunset. It became normal and quite routine. Roman helped her with her homework and played video games with her, while Alisha drove her around to shop at the malls for new clothes and to the cinema to see the latest movies. It was easy for Vanora to forget what they'd become. They never showed that they were anything other than her loving brother and sister, except for the fact that she hardly ever saw them eat. Alisha could fake eating, drinking glassfuls of wine with her food, and throwing it up later. Alisha never lost her human desire for junk food, even when it made her seriously ill. Roman couldn't stand to even look at food.

Ryan's brother responded to Roman's request by providing fresh pig and cow blood, and Roman paid him handsomely. Ryan didn't fear his master and often stayed about after dark to play a round of cards. Miss Robbins finally stopped crossing herself continuously, even though a large crucifix was never absent from the chain about her neck.

"I'm only staying here for the child," she would proclaim often.

Miss Robbins avoided Roman, but gradually warmed up to Alisha.

So their lives continued on in their small world they created for themselves, isolated from the mortal one around. Often Alisha and Roman would sit alone in Roman's study and wonder if there were others like themselves, yet they were afraid to find out for certain. Would other vampires threaten their existence? There was no way of truly knowing. A year slipped by, then another. Then once more, their lives suddenly changed.

# 18

**_February 2005_**

Alisha stood in the snack aisle of Albertsons, studying her shopping list. Blond hair twisted up in a messy bun, she was clad in jeans with ragged cuffs, a wildly patterned slip dress, a crocheted shrug, and flip-flops.

"...and that is why we have to read _Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire_ before the movie comes out," Vanora was explaining while leaning against the shopping cart.

"Eh, kids always cheat on book reports by watching the movie. I did that with _Romero and Juliet_ when I was your age."

"Is that the one where they're naked?" Vanora arched her pale eyebrows.

"Yep, the one that got banned at your school." Alisha studied her list, then the shelf beside her. She was buying toiletries for Roman and he was very specific about what he wanted. She found his deodorant and tossed it into the basket. "I got to see it when I was in school, but that was before things got really...crazy."

"Roman blames it on President Bush," Vanora answered.

"Roman blames everything on the president," Alisha laughed. "But Roman hates all politicians. God, I still remember his rants about Clinton."

"Is it because of what happened to our grandparents in Romania?"

"Yeah, I think so." Alisha leaned over and pushed Vanora's glasses up on her nose. They were a new prescription. Vanora hated wearing her glasses, claiming her vision was just fine. Though she appeared to function well without them, Alisha was worried about her declining sight.

"Ugh!" Vanora slapped at Alisha's hand. "Stop it."

"You're looking over them, not through them."

"I don't need them. I keep telling you that."

"Well, your vision test says otherwise," Alisha said, her voice mom-firm.

Vanora sulked for all of two seconds, then became distracted by a display of makeup. "When are you buying me makeup? I'm almost fifteen! You said I can wear makeup at fifteen!"

"I'll take you to Sephora or MAC. Your skin is so sensitive, I want to make sure we get you quality makeup."

"Can I dye my hair?" Vanora looked at Alisha hopefully.

Alisha's face must have registered the pang of horror she felt at the thought of changing Vanora's snowy hair. Her sister's smile immediately vanished. "When you're older, if you want to try, we can see if a salon somewhere in Houston knows how to dye albino hair. It's not easy."

Vanora ran a hand over her flowing, wavy hair. "It's so boring."

Alisha leaned over the shopping car handle. "It's so beautiful. You're beautiful." It hurt her to see the doubt in Vanora's eyes. Though she attended a small private school with a strict no-bullying policy, Vanora still suffered stares while in public. A few people had even asked if she bleached her skin. Now that she was in the full thrall of puberty, Vanora was even more self-conscious as her slender frame gained gentle curves.

Her attention squarely on a makeup ad, Vanora shrugged. "No one thinks I'm pretty but you and Roman."

"Snow Pea," Alisha started to protest.

"It's okay," Vanora answered. "Boys are dumb anyway."

Alisha sensed there was an untold story in her sister's eyes, but didn't want to push her.

"Can I get some snacks?"

"Sure!"

It was Friday night, and Vanora was planning on watching the late night horror show. And for some reason, she just had to have junk food on hand when watching Dracula battle Frankenstein.

"Get some corn chips," Alisha said as she made sure she had the proper shampoo.

"I hate corn chips!" Vanora responded. "But I like bean dip."

Wheeling the cart into another aisle full of bags of chips, they surveyed their options.

"You used to love corn chips."

"I ate too many. I'm sick of them."

"Well, I like them." Alisha plucked a bag off a shelf and dropped it into the grocery cart.

"Then get red wine or you'll be barfing all over the place."

"Who taught you to be so crude?"

"Television," Vanora responded, and dropped a bag of potato chips into the cart.

"Figures. And I don't barf all over the place."

"You spew it out?" Vanora offered.

Alisha playfully whacked her sister's shoulder. "So gross!"

"Can I get cookies too?"

"You're going to weigh a ton!"

"Am I fat?" Vanora's maturing body was actually very slim. She had inherited her mother's fine-boned, slender physique.

"Nah. Your mouth burns off the calories," Alisha responded with a wink.

Vanora rolled her eyes. "I have no idea what you're talking about. I'm the epitome of a cultured young woman."

"I'd believe that if you were raised by Klingons in _their_ culture."

Vanora stuck out her pink tongue.

"Yes, you can go get cookies. And be quick about it. Roman wants his things pronto."

Watching her little sister hurrying away, Alisha felt the strong desire to follow her. She fought against the instinct. Vanora was growing up and she had to let her have some independence. Feeling like a worried mother, Alisha swung her cart around to follow at a discreet distance.

Grinning mischievously, Vanora skipped out of the aisle toward the area loaded with the cookies and cakes. She was in a very good mood tonight after having successfully passed her math class and winning a blue ribbon in archery. She was trying very hard to please her older siblings in hopes of them allowing her a little more freedom. Though she had cultivated a small group of good friends at school, she wasn't able to see them as often as she liked. Both of her guardians were rather paranoid about her safety. She hoped by showing them she was responsible in her studies that they might start letting her attend more social events.

Vanora stopped in front of the colorful display of cookies wrapped in cellophane and sighed with contentment. Something chocolate sounded good, but vanilla wafers were so delicious. She pondered her choices, chewing her full bottom lip thoughtfully.

"Get Oreos," Alisha ordered as she walked by the end of the aisle on her way to another area.

Vanora picked up a package of the chocolate cookies, then snatched up the vanilla wafers as an afterthought. She swiveled about to follow her sister when her eyes settled on a tall, lean man walking toward her. He was dressed in black trousers and a dark wine-colored, long-sleeved shirt. His hair was thick and dark and he had the most amazing golden eyes. Vanora was just discovering boys, but this man was so much more attractive than the pimple-faced boys at school. He was definitely much better looking than her recent crush that had utterly spurned her. Pretending to look at a box of Mexican cookies, she spied at him through her thick white lashes. In silence, he stood beside her, studying the display, his hand thrust into his trouser pockets.

The man wasn't as tall as Roman, but he had broad shoulders and a slim, muscular build. Thick, finely arched brows were lowered over his striking amber eyes which were heavily fringed with dark lashes. There was a slight bump in his nose, but Vanora thought it brought character to an otherwise perfectly handsome face. Clutching the boxes of cookies against her breasts, Vanora lifted her head and tried to project a more mature aura.

"I like cookies," she said out loud, surprising herself and the man next to her.

The amber eyes flicked toward her, the man's lips turning up slightly at the edges. "I see." He had an accent like Antonio Banderas.

"Do you...like cookies?"

Slightly nodding, the man looked even more amused. "Yes, I do."

_Danger!_

Vanora jerked. Every cell of her body was screaming at her to run away.

_Danger!_

The word seemed to throb in her being, alerting her, warning her.

"Are you okay, little girl?" the man asked, concerned.

"Uh, my...mom...called me!"

Flustered and spooked, Vanora rushed off in pursuit of Alisha.

* * *

Alisha was flipping through a fashion magazine when her sister bounded up to her. Noticing her sister's flushed face, Alisha's brow furrowed. "What is it? What's wrong, Snow Pea?"

"I'm not sure," Vanora responded hesitantly. "Maybe I'm overreacting."

"Did someone bother you? Is there a pervert in here?' Alisha asked worriedly, cursing herself for letting Vanora go off alone.

"No, nothing like that," Vanora said quickly. She screwed her face up, then sighed. "You know how sometimes we feel things other people don't?"

"Our sixth sense, yeah. What about it?"

"Mom had it right?"

"She had it so strong it scared people." Alisha eyed Vanora suspiciously. "Why? What happened?"

"I saw this guy, really good-looking, but as I was looking at him, I suddenly felt like I was in danger. Like he was my enemy or something. I got out of there really quick!"

Alisha looked about the store, glaring at every man she saw. "Where is this guy?"

"He's in the cookie section."

Alisha pushed her cart quickly over to the aisle and peered at the people busy selecting their groceries. "Which one?"

Vanora looked down the aisle, then shook her head. "He's not here."

Alisha also felt odd, slightly troubled. Something was not right. Earlier, she had thought she was just being overly protective, but now she realized her sixth sense had been issuing a warning. "Okay, we've got everything. Let's get out of here."

In the checkout line, Alisha kept studying everyone in the store, as did Vanora. They never spotted the mysterious man. As they carried their bags out to the car, they both kept very quiet. Alisha hurriedly stored the groceries away in the trunk as Vanora stood examining the darkened parking lot. A chill had settled into her bones, and Alisha knew someone was watching them. Alisha slipped behind the steering wheel while Vanora climbed into the passenger seat.

"There is someone out there," Vanora whispered as she locked her door.

"I know," Alisha responded grimly. She turned the key in the ignition and the car started.

"Why is he watching us?"

"Maybe it's a pervert." Alisha shifted into gear. "But I'm not waiting to find out. We're out of here!"

Alisha's Camaro roared out of the parking lot and screeched into the evening traffic.

* * *

Several hours later, Vanora awoke with a start. Clutching her blanket to her throat, she sat bolt upright, her gaze sweeping over her dimly illuminated room. Shadows hid behind furniture and pooled around her bed. The moonlight glinted off the silver crosses hanging in her windows, reassuring her.

Hesitantly, Vanora slipped off the bed, her white hair slipping from its loose braid to hang about her shoulders like a snowy mantle. She crept over to her windows and timidly peered out. The world beyond the glass panes was dark and silent. Glancing up at the moon, Vanora sighed with relief.

_Just a nightmare. Just a bad memory of that night that horrible thing crawled in my window. No one is out there._

She began to turn away when she saw something move in the darkness. Her eyes narrowed as she studied the shadows hovering over the lawn. Was there really someone standing in the darkness, gazing up at her? Just when she was certain she could discern a definite form, someone turned a light on downstairs. The light spilling out the windows obliterated the shadows to reveal only empty air.

_Silly girl! Get over it! It was just a nightmare!_

Still a little spooked, Vanora climbed back into bed and nestled under the covers. Soon, she was blissfully asleep.

* * *

Perched on the window ledge, the mysterious man from the grocery store gazed through the glass at her sleeping form. He placed one hand on the window and closed his eyes. In her bed, Vanora shivered and burrowed under the covers. The vampire smiled and opened his eyes.

_Sleep, Vanora, sleep. I am here now. All is well._

Satisfied, the vampire slipped away from the window and into the dark sky.

# 19

"Who can it be at _this_ time of night?" Miss Robbins muttered as she stalked to the front door. "I'd be out of here if that bloody roast hadn't burned."

"Just stop your complaining and get the door, woman!" Ryan shouted after her.

"See if you get what you like tonight, old man," she shot back.

"Ah, woman! I should have stayed in Britain and gotten a decent lass."

"A decent lass wouldn't have wanted the likes of you!"

"Just get the bleedin' door. I'm going to finish my game with Mr. Roman."

Miss Robbins opened the door and stared into deep, golden eyes. A tall man stood in the doorway, thick wavy dark brown hair swept back from a high brow. With amber eyes heavily fringed with dark lashes, his gaze was a bit startling and seductive. He was very handsome with strong long nose and finely shaped mouth. Dressed all in black, he was rather imposing.

"Madam, I am Armando De Leon," he said in a very cultured voice.

"I haven't seen the likes of you about here before," Miss Robbins said, eying him suspiciously.

"I've never been here before." He gave her a very charming smile.

"Then why are you here now?" Miss Robbins was feeling feisty.

"Well, I am here to see Roman Socoli."

Miss Robbins' mischievous expression faded. "He's dead, sir. Four years now."

"Perhaps to the mortal world, but he isn't truly dead, is he?" Armando responded with a knowing smile.

Miss Robbins gaped at him, then realized that this magnificent man was not human. "It's Dracula come to claim his own!"

"No, I'm not Vlad Tepes. He is long dead. Murdered long ago by the Turks." He grinned, flashing white teeth. "I am truly Armando De Leon, and I would like to speak with Roman Socoli."

"I have a cross!"

"Yes, and a very nice one at that. Now, could you please call Roman?" Armando asked politely.

"But you're one of them!" Miss Robbins was so frazzled, she couldn't think straight.

"Yes, I am. Now, give him my card, dear lady, and I will wait here." He held one out for her.

Miss Robbins took the small, beige card tentatively and eyed it. "Well, okay, but don't you dare take a step into this house. I know how to handle your kind."

"I'm sure you do," Armando responded with a slight wink.

Flustered, Miss Robbins rushed down the entry hall. Without knocking, she burst into Roman's study.

"Good God, woman! You gave me a fright!" Ryan roared.

"Oh, piss off! There's someone here, Mr. Roman!"

Roman stared up at her with surprise. "What do you mean?"

"There's a bloke out there, really scary, kinda like Dracula, only he says Dracula is dead. His name is some kind of Spanish mumbo-jumbo, and he speaks kinda sexily." Despite herself, she blushed. "Here's his card. Says he wants to see you, sir!"

"Didn't you tell him that I am dead?" Roman questioned as he took the card, clearly puzzled.

"That I did, sir! But he told me you weren't in your grave! I think he's a vampire!"

Miss Robbins was rather satisfied when both men gawked at her in shock.

* * *

A vampire was at his door?

"What?" Roman shot to his feet. He had never met another vampire other than his creator. He was both terrified and exhilarated at the thought of meeting another of his kind.

"That's what he said. Is it safe, sir?" Miss Robbins asked worriedly.

"Yes, I think so, as long as I'm here." Roman glanced at the card, his brow furrowing. "Well, I had better go see him."

Roman walked briskly from the study, still somewhat mystified. All these years of isolation and out of nowhere another vampire was standing on his doorstep waiting to speak with him. He certainly didn't have any idea who this man was or how he could have known he was alive. Of course, if the man was a vampire, perhaps that could somehow explain it.

Roman entered the foyer hesitantly, gazing at the closed door. Who would he find? _What_ would he find? Roman laid his hand on the doorknob and took a deep breath. Alisha and Vanora peered around the corner into the hall. Sensing them, Roman swung around to face them.

"Is it true? There's another one out there?" Alisha asked.

"Who told you?"

"Miss Robbins called my room. So it's true?"

"What should I do?" Roman suddenly felt unsure of himself. What if he wasn't strong enough to fight another vampire? He had killed his creator, but perhaps that was just luck.

"Don't let him in the house. He has to have an invitation right?"

"Yes, I think so," Roman said.

"So don't let him in until we're sure what he wants," Alisha suggested.

"I've got my cross," Vanora said, holding up her necklace.

Alisha held out the hand she had hidden behind her back, revealing a stake.

Roman slightly smirked. "Always prepared."

"We watched Buffy," Vanora reminded him.

Roman nodded, then focused on the door. Cautiously, he opened the door and was greeted with a toothy smile.

"Roman Socoli, it is a pleasure to meet you. I am Armando De Leon."

Roman cleared his throat and took the long, slender hand extended to him. The man was slightly shorter than him and appeared to be in his early twenties. Though he was elegant and very polished, he didn't appear to be a menace. Roman quickly shook the stranger's hand. "How can I help you, Mr. De Leon?"

* * *

"That's him!" Vanora whispered to Alisha.

"The guy from the supermarket?" Alisha asked in surprise.

"Yeah, I'm sure it's him." Vanora frowned. "What is he doing here?"

* * *

At that moment, Armando was saying, "Well, it is obvious that we are very much alike in certain ways, is that not so? You are supposed to be - how shall I put it - dead and buried. And I, too, am supposed to be dead and buried."

Roman just stared at the stranger.

Armando chuckled lightly. "I see that you want me to do all the talking. Very well. I am a vampire, just as you are."

Roman lifted an eyebrow.

"Have you come to terms with your...condition?" Armando inquired, his smile fading. "I realize that you are quite young, but I would have thought that by now-" He cut off his words, starting to look very disappointed.

"Yes, I've accepted who I am," Roman finally said, his dark eyes intense. "I just want to know what you are doing here."

The sparkle in Armando's eyes returned. "I have been alone for a long time, Roman. It's been a good while since I've encountered such a young specimen of my own kind."

"That is why you are here? To find one of your own?" Roman asked suspiciously.

"I mean you no harm. Or your sisters. I saw them the grocery store a night ago. The blond vampire and the albino mortal. I intend to harm neither one. I am here to tell you about our world. The vampire world."

The words spoken by the stranger were both exciting and frightening. The thought of being part of a greater community was enthralling, but Roman didn't like the prospect of losing control over his quaint existence. "The vampire world?"

"Do you think that you and your sister, living in the small sanctuary you created for yourself, are the only vampires within the Houston city limits? We keep to ourselves, living within the worlds we create for ourselves. Many of us are centuries old, steeped in the old ways. But you and your sister are the youngest vampires I have encountered in a long time. I stumbled across your younger sister, Vanora, quite by accident. I realized that she was something special, and not just because she's albino. She is gifted. Then I saw your other sister, Alisha. I knew she was one of us and very young at that." Seeing Roman's cold stare, Armando plunged on. "I followed her here. It wasn't difficult to find out who lives here and to discover the history of the house. I assume someone from the mausoleum transformed you both. Are they here now?"

"I killed him," Roman answered in a toneless voice.

Armando was clearly shocked. "Why?"

"He destroyed our lives, so I destroyed him."

"I see," Armando said haltingly. "Yes, well, that is not so unusual." Armando took a deep breath. "Can we talk, Roman? I feel that we have much in common."

"You spoke of other vampires. Do they know about us?"

"No. Like I said, we keep to ourselves more often than not. I have been very lonely these last ten years. I would like to be with my own kind again."

Roman stared at the stranger intently, trying to gauge his honesty. He turned to Alisha, who was slowly creeping across the hall. She stared at Armando intently, obviously trying to peer into his mind.

"Let him in," Alisha replied to the unspoken question.

Roman stepped back from the door. "You may enter."

Armando stepped over the threshold with a nod of his head. Withdrawing one hand from his trouser pocket, he extended it to Alisha. Alisha took his hand. Her face registered surprise when Armando raised their hands to his lips. His amber eyes met hers as he pressed his lips against her flesh. Alisha's eyes narrowed, and she withdrew her hand.

"A pleasure, Miss Socoli," he said brightly.

"I hope so," Alisha answered warily.

Armando started toward Vanora, who was lingering near the staircase, but Roman caught hold of his arm.

"If you don't mind, Mr. De Leon, I would prefer that you stay away from her for the time being," Roman stated firmly.

"Of course. I understand."

Armando followed them into Roman's study and sat down in the leather chair offered to him. Alisha sat on the couch across from him and crossed her legs. She obviously didn't trust the stranger at all. For that matter, Roman didn't either. Armando exuded great confidence and an aura of mystery that made him very uncomfortable.

Roman sat at his desk, and Vanora scampered into the room to sit down next to him on a footstool. Roman was pleased to see that she was holding the stake. When he looked at Armando, he saw the other vampire's lips turn up in amusement.

"Vanora, I think you should wait for me upstairs," Alisha said.

"Roman, I want to stay here," Vanora said, resting her hand on Roman's wrist.

Alisha rolled her eyes, seeming to sense that Roman was going to relent to Vanora's wishes.

"You can stay, but remain at my side."

Vanora grinned and leaned her head against her brother's arm.

Armando was watching all of them and Roman supposed the stranger was absorbing the dynamics of their family. Roman rested a fatherly arm on Vanora's shoulders and let Armando see the steel in his gaze.

"I suppose you want to know more about why I am here?"

"You said something about being our friend," Roman said blandly.

The smile faded from Armando's face. "Yes, well, I think it is time to be very serious and honest. I am an old vampire looking for fresh life. I am bored with my existence. I have lived alone a long time, trying to fit into the world of the mortals. I have written several novels on the exploration and conquest of the Americas along with some non-fiction works under the name of Antonio Ferrer."

Roman looked surprised. "I've read some of your books. Alisha gave me one for my birthday one year in fact. You are a very good writer," he commented, his fingers toying with a pen on his desk.

"I am known for my great knowledge on the subject of the colonization of the Americas and I have even been praised for my great research. But I've researched nothing. I was there. Yes, I am that old. Over four-hundred years old. I have lost count of the exact number."

"Four-hundred years old!" Vanora exclaimed. "God, that's ancient!"

"Yes, I am. All of these years I have lived many lives, lived in many places. During my travels, I have been with our kind many times. But when I decided to become Antonio Ferrer, I cut myself off from them. I had to. I'd made the conscious decision to live openly in the mortal world. Many of our kind are too terrified to do such a thing. I could not live in secrecy anymore. There were twenty in my pack a decade ago. We had been together for close to a hundred years. We were all very wealthy, due to the fact that we have been hoarding jewelry and the like for centuries. We lived in an abandoned house, and I admit that we hunted in the ghettos for our prey. Then, one night, I just couldn't live like that anymore. When I announced I was leaving, there was an intense fight among us. Vampires do not like to change from the old ways. Only nine of us survived the fighting. We split our money among us and I left. They went back to living their desolate lives. I claimed a trust I had set up for myself a hundred years before and discovered that I was richer than I ever imagined. I wrote a book, which sold. I moved into an apartment, bought a car, and entered into the world of mortals."

"Amazing," Alisha whispered, entranced by his story.

"A few years ago, I went looking for the other nine. They were all dead. Staked through the heart in the basement of the old house. I believe hunters found them."

Alisha winced. "Oh, God."

Roman was unsettled by the story. He gently stroked Vanora's hair, the simple action calming him. "Hunters? Who are they?"

"You know, vampire hunters, like in the movies. Right?" Vanora cut in.

Armando smiled at her. "Exactly. For as long as there have been vampires, there have been hunters. It is wise to avoid them at all costs. Slaying a large number of humans is not recommended. The hunters always arrive when such killings occur."

"We don't drink human blood," Alisha said.

Armando raised an eyebrow.

"Finish your story then I will tell you ours," Roman said.

"It was then, looking at those bodies in that horrible house, that I knew I had been wise. In the old days, we had not been so frightened, but as the world became more modern, we were forced underground. Vampires lost their way in the new world and clung to the old. I have found many vampires over the years, but they were living desolate lives. I had given up hope of finding one of my own living as I do. You are the first vampires I have found living openly." Armando sank into silence, his face pensive.

"We could never live such a bleak life," Roman said softly.

"And we have Vanora to think about," Alisha added.

"So that is why I am here," Armando said after a beat. "To find new friends."

The tension in the room gradually alleviated as Armando spoke in his accented, even tones. It didn't take long for Roman to believe that this cultured elegant man was sincere. Armando was charming and likable, his eyes sparkling as he spoke, his words weaving a fascinating tale of an immortal man watching history unfold before him as he hid in the shadows.

# 20

Armando sat in the oversized leather chair sipping the red wine Alisha had offered him. The early hours of the morning were slipping away. Vanora was trying hard not to fall asleep, her head resting on Alisha's shoulder. She was completely enraptured by the newcomer. In the grocery store, she thought he was the most handsome man she'd ever seen, but now he seemed even more alluring. She loved the way he moved his long, elegant hands when he spoke and how his eyebrows arched at certain parts of his story.

"The old ways died for vampires as well as mortals when the new world was discovered. We came here seeking to escape the life we were confined to in the old world. A life rife with superstitions. We lived like animals in tombs and deserted churches, starving ourselves into madness, then roaming the night like a pack of bloodthirsty wolves. The hunters slaughtered us at every turn. Then we came here and we, too, found freedom. But as mortals so often do, we once more fell into the old pattern of rules and codes of ethics. We fell back into that abyss and I would not follow. Once I was out of the dark life I had lived with my companions, I realized that my knowledge of history could be beneficial, not only to myself but to others. That is when I started writing."

"I wish I could write. I really like books. I haven't read any of yours." Vanora yawned.

"Well, should you ever want to know about the history of Spain and her influence in the Americas, you should read them," Armando responded.

"She's very much into her own Celtic ancestry," Roman said wryly. "I don't think any Romanian genes found their way into her. Or Alisha, for that matter. I call them my Celtic witches. Fascinating how sometimes one parent isn't reflected in a child."

"I am pure Spanish. I don't understand dual backgrounds. However, Vanora does resemble some Romanians I've known. But then again, she looks somewhat like a Welshman I was once acquainted with," Armando commented, then sipped his wine. His golden eyes studied Vanora with acute interest.

Her teenage hormones were getting the best of her and she knew it. Blushing under his gaze, she snuggled into Alisha's side. There was no way he'd be interested in a dumb fourteen-year-old girl, but it was very different to crush on an older man—much, much older—than a stupid boy at school.

"You should go to bed now," Roman suggested. "Your eyes keep closing."

Vanora stood up wearily. "Fine. Tyrant."

"Teenagers are so dramatic," Roman said to Armando.

"I'm now remembering that," Armando admitted, grinning.

Vanora leaned over and kissed her sister's cheek. "Good night, Alisha."

"Until tomorrow." Alisha embraced Vanora lovingly.

Vanora wrapped her arms around Roman's neck and kissed him on the cheek. "Night, Roman."

Roman kissed her on both of hers. "Don't forget your prayers."

"In this house! Are you kidding?" Vanora rolled her eyes. On impulse, she walked over to Armando and extended her hand. "It was nice to meet you, Armando."

Armando stood up and bowed slightly over their handshake. "It was a pleasure to meet you, Vanora." His golden eyes stared into hers with a dark, searching intensity that was slightly unsettling.

Vanora jerked her hand away, averting her eyes. Feeling suddenly embarrassed, she escaped up the stairs to her room and locked her bedroom door behind her. Her body was shivering. Sitting down at her vanity, Vanora stared at her reflection. Her long, white blond hair spilled over her shoulders and framed her face, which was very flushed. Armando had done something to her that no one else ever had. He had made her realize that she was becoming a woman.

* * *

Armando let himself into his penthouse apartment, his keys jingling in his fingers. That must have alerted Carlotta because she swung the door wide open. The vampire stood before him in a frothy red negligee made of yards of satin and lace. Even though it did not reveal much flesh, it clung to her curves sensuously. Her long raven hair fell into a tumble of curls down to her waist, and the comb in her hand indicated she had been busy combing it out.

"Where were you?" she demanded in her rich accent.

"I told you," Armando responded as he pushed past her.

Carlotta slammed the door shut, her dark eyes flashing. "You tell me nothing. You just left."

Armando sighed, pulling off his black overcoat. "You knew I went to meet with that vampire."

"The one you've been spying on? He's nothing," Carlotta responded, dismissing him with her hand. "He knows nothing. He is nothing. He is not important."

Armando raised an eyebrow. "He must be if I was told to meet with him. Besides, I found him interesting. So was his sister. I found them to be...inspiring."

Carlotta sighed dramatically. She was an incredible beauty. Her dark exotic looks, her seductively voluptuous figure, and sultry manner made her alluring. Being a vampire made her irresistible. She strode into the middle of the enormous living room decorated all in black and white and picked up a magazine she had been looking at.

"According to this, I should leave you," she said with a playful smile. "I took this test in the magazine and it says you're an asshole."

Armando scoffed at her. "You shouldn't read such trash."

"I don't read your books."

Armando refused to be baited. He was used to Carlotta's fiery moods. She loved to fight with him when she was in a bad mood. He attributed it to the fact that she was a gypsy.

Carlotta drew near, her eyes drawing him into their depths. "Why do you need to know them?"

Armando poured himself some wine. "Why ask questions you already know the answer to? And, like I said, I find them intriguing. They are not trapped by preconceived notions of how we are to act."

"They amuse you."

"They're very mortal."

Carlotta took his glass from his hand and sipped the wine, her eyes studying him. "You do things I don't understand."

"That is the way it will always be," Armando responded with a shrug.

Carlotta handed the glass back to him thoughtfully. "Maybe I would like to meet them."

"I think they are far too boring for your taste," Armando replied slyly.

"Did you tell them of the others? Of him?"

Armando shook his head. "I told them a little about the other vampires. The rebel vampires only. He doesn't want them to know about him or the vampire world. He wants them to be isolated and watched. I concur. Let them be on their own. Let them find their own pack. Besides, the others are hardly ever around. And those here in the States are mostly rebels, and they keep to their own packs."

Carlotta nodded in agreement. "They sound so young and naive."

"That's what I like about them. They are full of ideas, revolutionary ones. They aren't hindered by what they think they should be. It's refreshing."

Carlotta tossed her head and strode into the bedroom. A large canopy bed draped in dark blue velvet dominated the room. It was very old and very ornate. She crawled onto it and arranged her robes around her. Armando followed, deep in thought. Carlotta's dark eyes studied his brooding form silently.

It amused Armando when she tried to figure him out. She truly didn't know him. He preferred it that way. Ever since he had stumbled across her all those hundreds of years ago, their relationship had been extremely complicated and yet so simple. They would fight with such intense hatred they'd almost kill each other and the next moment love each other with the passion only vampires could express.

Tonight, her dark gaze was verging on cruelty.

"You're making me nervous," Armando said suddenly, startling her.

"Why?"

"You're too quiet. A dangerous sign."

"I'm thinking about how we met so long ago."

"That again?" He couldn't help but smile. "You scared the hell out of me when you jumped out of that tree I was riding under."

"I wanted you," Carlotta responded flippantly, her eyes intense. "I made you mine."

Armando started to undress. "Yes, I suppose in one sense you did."

"I don't intend to ever let you go," Carlotta continued.

Armando lifted an eyebrow. "What if I decide to leave?"

"You won't." Carlotta stretched out on the bed with cat-like movements.

Armando tossed his shirt and jacket over a chair and sat beside her on the bed. Leaning toward her, his eyes capturing hers, he said, "You are far too sure of yourself."

"Perhaps, but I know you need me just as much as I need you," Carlotta responded, rolling over and resting her head on his lap. She gazed up at him seductively. "We are two of a kind."

"I don't think so."

Carlotta snapped her body upright. "Why do you say that?"

"You, my dear, hardly know me," Armando declared, his golden eyes appraising her coldly.

"I know you better than anyone!" Carlotta protested.

"So you think," Armando corrected.

"So I know!"

Armando stood up and finished undressing. "Are you staying?"

Carlotta was flustered by his question. "Of course! It's too close to dawn for me to make it home."

"Very well." Armando made sure the curtains were tightly closed while Carlotta sat fuming.

"I do know you well!" Carlotta abruptly shouted.

"You share my bed, not my mind.."

"You are trying to provoke me, you damn Spanish bastard!" Carlotta fumed.

Armando narrowed his eyes. "I was merely telling you the truth."

Carlotta screamed with rage and yanked the curtains of the canopy closed.

Armando grinned. He felt like ticking off the volatile gypsy. For some reason, he was feeling extremely contrary. The evening's visit had made him think of people and places that were long gone and of emotions he had long thought dead. Still smirking, he finished dressing in his silk pajama bottoms.

The phone rang abruptly, and he quickly snatched up the receiver. "Hello?"

"Did you contact the Socolis?" The voice was one he knew well. It still had the power to make him feel utterly helpless.

"Yes, I did."

"And the girl? Has she been brought over?"

"No, she is mortal. Her brother and sister are caring for her."

"Are you sure they won't try to try to bring her over?"

"Yes, yes, I'm sure they won't. They seem to hate being vampires and have an aversion to even acknowledging that they've entered the dark life. They live as mortals and still think as mortals."

"Weaklings," the voice declared with disgust. "That's good. Watch the girl carefully. You must protect her. She is the one."

Armando lowered his voice to say, "I realize you think that because she's an albino-"

"Did you not feel her power?"

"Yes, yes, I did. The power I feel in her is so strong, and yet, she is so young."

There was a satisfied chuckle. "Then our time approaches. Very well. You know what to do."

"Yes, Master," Armando answered as the line was cut off.

Deep in thought, he pushed aside the curtains surrounding his bed. His silk pajamas slid easily under the satin sheets. Settling beside Carlotta, he drew the curtains close. The sun would soon be rising over the horizon, and weariness was settling in his limbs. Carlotta was lying with her back to him, obviously upset, muttering away in Spanish.

"Carlotta," Armando whispered.

"Was it the Master?"

"Yes, it was. All is well." Armando rested his hand on her shoulder. "Carlotta, we are not alike in all things, but I do care for you very much." He kissed the curve of her shoulder.

"You are a bastard!" Carlotta snapped. "But I forgive you." Rolling over, she snuggled up against him.

Armando kissed her soft hair and held her close, enjoying the coolness of her soft body against his.

"You do care for me very much, don't you, you rotten Spanish bastard?"

"Yes," Armando responded.

Carlotta kissed his neck affectionately. "I care for you."

Armando held his temperamental gypsy lover tight and closed his eyes. They never said the word 'love' to each other for they knew that was not what they shared. Love was something Armando had not felt for a very long time and truly did not want to feel its fiery sting again. Love was far too painful and dangerous for a vampire to indulge in. An eternity is a long time to suffer.

"Was Roman handsome?"

"Yes, I suppose. You should like that he is very wealthy."

"Then maybe we should meet," Carlotta decided.

"Someday, perhaps. But not now. It's too soon."

Carlotta kissed his chin and whispered, "Until tonight, my darling."

Armando closed his eyes and fell asleep as the sun rose.

* * *

For the first few weeks after Armando's appearance in their lives, Roman kept the vampire in his study during visits, significantly limiting his involvement with his two sisters. Armando was somewhat amused by Roman's parental attitude toward Alisha and Vanora.

During their talks together, Roman revealed to Armando the incredible mind of his new-found friend. Roman was a deep thinker, who constantly examined his life, searching for any flaws in his character which needed to be rectified and fortifying his strengths. Roman's determination to remain as human as possible was impressive. He aspired to live a life that contained honor, love, and a measure of happiness. Armando was surprised to find himself challenged by those beliefs, but he still remained dedicated to fulfilling his Master's orders.

Roman found comfort in his new friendship. He had not realized the extent of his isolation until he finally had a companion with whom he could share his ideas. Roman enjoyed the challenge of Armando's questions and found himself sinking many of his new philosophies into his journals. Slowly, a tome he christened _Roman's Law_ , emerged. When he finally allowed Armando to read the journal, the Spaniard asked for a copy, and Roman complied. Armando transcribed it, then contacted a local printer and requested a hundred leather-bound volumes, the minimum amount the printer would allow him to order. He presented copies to Roman and Alisha as gifts and burned the rest.

But what Armando did not know, was that several botched copies of _Roman's Law_ were thrown away in a dumpster behind the printing building. A dumpster diver found the books and sold them to a second-hand bookstore.

# 21

**_April 2005_**

Long, skinny legs draped over the armrest, Vanora slouched in one of the leather chairs in Roman's study reading a book for school. It was a bit difficult to concentrate with the epic shouting match taking place in the hall.

"I can date whoever I want!" Alisha yelled at Roman. "Just because you don't like Sin doesn't mean I'm going to stop seeing him!"

"Alisha, his name is _Sin!_ I'm sure that isn't short for Sinclair, right?"

"No, it's not! But why should it matter? Besides, you're not my father!"

The argument shifted away from the study, much to Vanora's relief. Since Alisha's career had started to take off and she interacted with the mortal world on a regular basis, Roman had been particularly paranoid and overly protective. He'd been horrified when Alisha actually started dating another artist. Vanora liked Sin. Whenever Alisha took her over to his place to hang out, Sin played _Resident Evil_ with her.

With a yawn, Vanora snuck her Motorola Razr out of her pocket and flipped it open. She was so bored of _Little Women s_ he __ could just die. As far as she was concerned, they all sucked, though Jo was somewhat tolerable. Texting Rhonda, her best friend at school, she tried to keep her action hidden behind the book just in case Roman returned. After her last dismal report card, he was a tyrant about her homework.

"What are you reading?"

Vanora flipped her phone shut, and looked up to see Armando taking the chair opposite of her. "Where did you come from?"

"Ryan let me in," Armando answered, flashing his white teeth in a broad smile.

Whenever he smiled, she looked for fangs but was always disappointed. Her brother and sister refused to show her theirs. If not for their adherence to living only at night, it was difficult to tell they were vampires. Vanora couldn't even get them to turn into a bat, though she wasn't sure if they even could.

Armando lifted his eyes, head tilted, obviously listening to the argument that had shifted upstairs. "They're fighting?"

"Roman hates Sin." Vanora shrugged.

"Well, he is a good Catholic."

"No, he hates _Sin_ , Alisha's boyfriend."

Armando returned his gaze to her. She hadn't really interacted with him since his arrival in their lives, and his attention made her feel self-conscious. Swinging her legs around, she sat up straight in her chair and shoved her feet into her red ballet shoes. Clad in red skinny jeans and a Hello Kitty t-shirt, she felt obscenely childish. Flipping her braids behind her shoulders, she felt her face flush. She knew it was dumb to want to impress a vampire who was hundreds of years old, but a piece of her desperately wanted him to think she was pretty.

"Alisha has a boyfriend named Sin?" Armando was clearly amused. "Is he an artist, too?"

"Yeah. He makes sculptures out of old cars. It's cool."

"And he's mortal?"

"Yep."

Armando's expression was thoughtful for a second, then he glanced at the book in her hands.

"So you're reading _Little Women?_ For school?"

"Uh, yeah. I'm supposed to pick which one I'm the most like and then write what I'd do in her place." Vanora rolled her eyes. "It's lame."

Armando lifted one of his perfectly shaped eyebrows. "Why is it lame?"

"Everyone is going to pick Jo. I mean she's okay, but everyone in this book is dumb." Vanora shrugged.

"Actually, they're very enlightened for that time period," Armando explained gently. "I lived during that time and those characters were revolutionary. Especially Josephine. Women were tied to very strict gender roles. They often couldn't make choices for themselves, even who they married."

Vanora tapped the book with her fingers. Noticing that her blue nail polish was chipped, she curled her fingers to hide them. "I didn't think of that."

"Marrying for love was very rare. People married for security, political gain, to satisfy their families..." Armando's golden eyes lowered, his lashes casting shadows over his cheeks. "Marrying for love was a luxury afforded to only a few."

Flipping the book around in her hands, Vanora stared at the cover. "Well, that sucks for them. And those dresses look awful."

Armando chuckled. "Yes, well, fashion is not always kind." He gestured to her outfit. "Little girls wearing pants would have been scandalous at that time."

Vanora bristled under the 'little girl' label. "I'm fifteen. I had my birthday."

"Ah, true. Young lady, then. My mistake. In some eras, you would be married by now."

The twinkle in his eyes and the amused smile he bestowed on Vanora softened her irritation. "Well, yuck."

"You don't want to get married someday?" Both eyebrows lifted, surprised.

Shrugging, Vanora answered, "Maybe. I mean...if the guy is cool, I guess. But he has to be super awesome and not a total spazz."

"Ah, so thinking about being a career woman?"

"Maybe," Vanora played with the edges of her book.

"What would you like to be?"

Another shrug. "Something where I could travel a lot. I want to see the world."

"I see." Armando leaned forward, studying her thoughtfully. "The world is very beautiful."

"When I grow up, I'm going to go everywhere. After college, that is." She lifted her head confidently. "I'm going to dye my hair, too. And maybe my eyebrows and eyelashes. I can get contacts when I'm eighteen. I want blue ones." She discreetly flipped her phone open, trying not to look at it. She had told Rhonda that Alisha had a new friend that was really hot, so she wanted to provide a picture as proof.

Armando widened his eyes slightly. He didn't seem to notice what she was doing with the phone. "And why would you do all of that?"

The question surprised Vanora. She tugged on one of her braids. "Because of this." She clicked the button, snapping the photo.

Armando looked at her quizzically. "I don't understand."

Vanora rolled her eyes. "I'm an albino."

"Yes, I see that."

"And _everyone_ stares at me. Or makes stupid comments. Or are mean."

"Who is everyone? I'm not doing any of those things, am I?"

Her teenage hormones felt like they were in overdrive. The warmth in her cheeks was embarrassing. An albino blushing was extremely noticeable. "Well, no."

"You're a beautiful little gi—a lovely young woman. Your white hair, lavender eyes, and white eyelashes make me think of an angel. And no one thinks of angels as ugly, do they?"

"Well, no," Vanora admitted.

"Then whoever this _everyone_ is, they are surely very foolish, or quite blind."

Pounding footsteps on the stairs coupled with the murmur of agitated voices heralded the arrival of Alisha and Roman. Armando stood up, tucking his hands into his jacket pockets. Roman strolled into the room clearly agitated, but still looking resigned.

"Vanora, you're going to the movies with Alisha and _Sin_." Roman stopped short. "Oh, Armando. I didn't realize you were here already."

"I arrived a little early. Traffic was light," Armando answered.

Roman's eyes slightly narrowed, darting a quick glance at Vanora. He had made certain to keep her away from Armando, and he didn't look happy to find them chatting.

"He told me _Little Women_ doesn't suck," Vanora said, trying to calm her brother's fears.

"Ah," Roman said, clearly confused.

Alisha let out a giggle, hoisting her big purse over one shoulder. "Come on, Snow Pea. Let's blow this joint. Boring old men talking."

"I'm not old," Roman protested.

"Oh, really? I thought you were since you keep acting like _my father,"_ Alisha answered.

Rolling her eyes, Vanora gave her brother a quick peck on the cheek before taking Alisha's hand.

Armando gave her one of his charming smiles. "Until next time."

Vanora caught Roman scrutinizing her, so she just gave Armando a short "bye" and hurried out with her sister. The last thing she wanted Roman to think was that she had any sort of crush on Armando. Roman was already paranoid enough about Alisha.

"Sin's already here," Alisha said.

"Which movie are we going to see?"

"The newest version of _Little Women_ ," Alisha answered, opening the front door.

"Ha, ha." Vanora scowled.

"Okay, okay. _The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy_."

"Yes!" Vanora high-fived her sister. She'd been begging to see the movie for weeks.

"So, Snow Pea, you finally got to spend some time with your crush, huh?"

Vanora clenched her hands into fists and gave Alisha her angriest look. "I don't have a crush on Armando!"

"Sure you don't." Alisha laughed as she sprang down the front steps.

Vanora pursued, annoyed, frustrated, and terribly embarrassed.

Sin's old Mustang huffed and puffed in the driveway, the engine sounding more like an old man coughing than an actual sports car. Sin had bought it off the scrap heap but decided to restore it instead of chopping it up for his art. It was a patchwork of colors that was always changing as he found new replacement pieces for it, but Vanora didn't mind. He played cool music and didn't fuss over her like Roman and Alisha tended to do.

"Hey, squirt," Sin said, grinning at her while popping open his door for her.

"Hey, Sin." She high-fived him and crawled into the backseat.

Sin dressed like he was in a hard rock band and had a blue Mohawk that Roman hated and Vanora thought was awesome. He'd had thick dreads when Alisha first started dating him but accidentally burned half them off when working on a sculpture. The new mohawk was his solution to the singed hair problem.

Alisha climbed into the passenger seat and kissed her boyfriend, then wiped a bit of her red lipstick off his mouth.

"Nah, leave it. People will see that you like me," he said, jerking his head away.

"You're so lame," Alisha chided him.

They were an unusual looking couple. Sin looked a bit rough around the edges, while Alisha tended to dress in Betsey Johnson dresses and big chunky shoes.

"So everything's cool now?" Sin waved his phone, covered in Misfits stickers, at Alisha.

"Roman's being an ass," Alisha grunted. "Again. But at least our fight let Vanora hang out with her dream guy."

"Shut up!" Vanora kicked Alisha's seat. Her cheeks were heating up again and she fidgeted with her phone.

"Armando," Sin said, rolling it off his tongue dramatically.

"He's far too pretty and has that mysterious thing going on." Alisha smirked at her sister.

Vanora ignored her and flipped open her phone to check the photo she had snapped.

"It's a good thing you don't find tall, dark and handsome alluring," Sin said, pulling his car around and heading toward the gates.

"Average height, tannish, and not as handsome as you," Alisha corrected. "I like them tall, Swedish, and sexy."

Sin laughed. "Good thing for me."

Studying the picture of Armando, Vanora scowled. The photo was just a blob of darkness that was blurred around the edges. She must have jerked the phone or something, ruining the shot. Tucking her phone away, she listened to her sister and Sin flirting.

"Alisha," she said a few minutes later, interrupting their repartee.

"What's up, Snow Pea?"

"I need new clothes. I look like a stupid little kid and not like a teenager. I want to look fifteen, not ten."

Alisha and Sin exchanged amused looks as the Mustang hurled down the highway, then burst into raucous laughter.

Vanora kicked both their seats.

* * *

Alisha ignored her phone when it beeped with a new text message. Roman was still sending her messages, trying to argue his point. She knew she had made a big mistake when she had talked about Roman to Sin, and her brother was trying to reiterate how important it was that his existence be kept secret. Though it was four years since Roman's death and resurrection, and Sin had arrived in Houston last year and knew nothing about her brother's death, Roman had been furious over her mentioning him. Alisha had played it off like she had felt that enough time had passed and she could trust Sin, but the reality was that she had been drunk, stupid, and giddy in the afterglow of the first sex she'd had since becoming a vampire.

In all truth, she had been so relieved to finally feel human, she'd just rambled on just to see Sin give her his slow sexy smile of amusement. She'd been dumb, and now Roman was on her case in a way that both pissed her off and made her feel guilty all at once.

"It's a legit question. What are fifteen-year-old girls supposed to wear?" Sin said to Vanora.

They were nearing the cinema and were a bit early for the next showing. She appreciated that Sin didn't drive like a maniac when Vanora was in the car with them. Sin had lived in Germany just to drive on the autobahn, which notoriously had no speed limits, so his consideration of Vanora was just one more reason for her to like him.

"Well, not a stupid Hello Kitty t-shirt," Vanora retorted.

Since puberty had hit, Vanora tended to act surly. Alisha remembered those years oh-too-well and gave her a break, while Roman just tried to crack down or reason with her. No matter how much Alisha told Roman that it was just the insanity of puberty, Roman tried to corral Vanora back to how she had been before her hormones had gone into overdrive.

"I went to this club in Japan where all the hot chicks wore Hello Kitty t-shirts. And thongs," Sin said.

Alisha hit him.

Vanora sighed dramatically from the backseat. "I'm not a little kid anymore. I'm not a _little girl._ "

"True. You're more of a big girl," Sin agreed.

Alisha smacked him.

"I'm not a _girl_!" Vanora's teenage angst was at full blast.

"She's a young woman," Alisha said, giving her upset sister a quick smile.

"Oh, yeah. She's got tits now."

Alisha smacked Sin again. He just laughed.

"Don't say tits to my little sister."

"Boobs?"

Alisha gave him her sternest look, but he just tapped her nose with his finger.

"You're so cute when you're mad."

"Gross!" Vanora exclaimed.

Rolling her eyes, but amused nonetheless, Alisha glanced out the window at the sparkling lights of the city. The cinema had a huge marquee that was lit up like the Fourth of July announcing the latest releases. Headlights sliced through the gloom as cars wandered the parking lot in hopes of a spot. Flipping open her phone, Alisha checked her text messages. They were all from Roman. She deleted them.

Alisha knew it was childish, but he made her so mad when he acted like he was her parent. Though he greatly resembled their deceased father and even sounded like him, Alisha resented it when he tried to take authority over her. She completely understood that he felt responsible for her and Vanora, but she was an adult and didn't need him lording over her. Of course, their relationship was further muddled by the fact they were both vampires, and Roman felt protective of her. Lately, she had found it easier and easier to forget she was a vampire when she was hanging out with Sin or socializing with other artists. She suspected Roman was a tad jealous of her ability to move around in the human world. Living in the mansion all the time had to be suffocating.

Yet, she had enough on her plate. She was preparing for a new show and she was having a lot of difficulty with her latest pieces. They were far too dark, abstract, and disturbing. She'd developed a niche for her portrayal of sunlight. It wasn't time yet for her to move on to a new vision.

Sin finally found a parking spot and parked, holding one arm up in triumphant. "Six spaces from the front!"

"It won't hurt us to walk," Alisha responded, rolling her eyes.

Once they were all out of the car and walking toward the cinema, Alisha felt a bit more relaxed in the fresh April breeze. It was Friday night, and the area was very busy since the theater was hemmed in by restaurants. Couples on dates, teenagers in groups, and families all gathered before the box office to purchase their tickets.

"My treat. I sold a piece today," Sin said, pulling out his wallet.

Alisha snuggled into his side, smiling at him proudly. "It was an awesome sculpture."

Beside Alisha, Vanora texted on her phone, her small fingers dancing over the keypad. Alisha had to mentally figure out which numbers translated into letters, but Vanora was lightning fast. It had taken a lot of lobbying to get Roman to buy the Razr cell phone for their little sister's birthday, but he had finally broken down.

The thought of Roman brought a fresh burst of guilt rushing through Alisha. What if her slip up with Sin adversely affected them? Would Sin talk about Roman to someone who knew Alisha's brother was supposed to be dead? A shiver ran through her, and she leaned her cheek on Sin's muscular arm to comfort herself.

Closing her eyes, Alisha pushed aside her fears and tried to concentrate on the smell of Sin's cologne and skin. The coppery scent of blood caught her attention, and she drew away quickly. She had missed the bandage stuck on his bicep. Obviously, he had hurt himself again while working. Sometimes the sharp edges of his pieces nicked him. Running her tongue over her teeth, she was dismayed to feel her sharp fangs descending. Human blood always smelled much more delicious than the warmed pig and cow blood she drank to sustain herself. Flashes of sinking her teeth into Sin's delicious skin sent shivers of pleasure and fright through her.

"I have to go to the ladies room," she muttered, keeping her head down, hiding her teeth.

"No worries. I'll buy the tickets and get in line for the popcorn," Sin answered.

Alisha dashed out of line and through the people clustered to get through the entrance. She had to push a bit, but she finally made it to the lobby and headed for the bathroom. Once inside, she darted into the first stall and leaned against the wall, her lips clamped shut. Trembling, she concentrated on anything but the smell of Sin's blood. It took nearly ten minutes, but at last her teeth retracted. She'd have to be very careful for the rest of the night.

As added insurance, she spritzed more perfume on herself, hoping it would help mask the scent of the fresh blood beneath the bandage. Finally, she hurried back out into the lobby and spotted Sin and Vanora in the line to waiting for the chance to buy snacks. Seeing them laughing and obviously having a good time brought a smile to her face. Yes, the life she was living was dangerous, but it was worth it just to see her sister out having a normal time like the rest of the teenagers.

Everything was going to be fine. She had to remember that. This would work for all of them.

Feeling better, she rejoined her boyfriend and sister.

# 22

**_May 2005_**

The parking lot of the Houston Minute Maid Park was a chaotic hell. After witnessing the Astros suffer a stunning defeat by the Chicago Cubs, none of the Astro fans were in the mood to be considerate. Cars were swerving, braking, accelerating, nearly colliding; all in a mad dash for the parking lot exits. Headlights cutting through the dark of the night, Roman's Mercedes edged its way into a long line of jerking cars.

"Hey, that guy gave us the finger!" Vanora exclaimed. "Can I give it back?"

Roman gave her a sharp look. "You know better than that."

"I'm fifteen, still a virgin, never been pregnant, never been drunk, never taken drugs, never got arrested, never driven a car, never even said a curse word, and I don't get anything lower than B's in school. I'm so boring!"

"Stay that way," Roman ordered. "Except for the B's. Make A's."

Vanora grinned and returned her gaze to the glowing red taillights of the car in front of them. Snuggled down in her chair, she was content tonight. Even though the Astros had lost, it had been an exciting game, extending into extra innings, keeping all the fans in suspense.

"Back in the day, if Nolan Ryan had been pitching, we would have won," Roman decided.

"Whatever, Roman! He's old school." Vanora rolled her eyes.

"He was my personal hero when I was younger. He was cooler than Superman."

Roman's protest made Vanora giggle. "Everyone is cooler than Superman. Especially Batman. Christian Bale is so gorgeous!"

Frowning slightly, Roman said, "I liked it better when you were a fan of Barney."

"Uh, Roman, I was never a fan of Barney." Vanora glanced out the window as several fans trudged past them on the way to their cars. "Besides, you don't even know the starting lineup! You don't know _modern_ baseball like I know baseball."

"Okay, I may not hound the Astros for autographs, keep track of every statistic, and scream like a banshee at the umpires, but I am a fan," Roman said defensively.

"You slept through the fifth inning!"

"My eyes got tired."

Vanora snorted, but she was smiling. She loved it when Roman took her out. He was always nervous that someone who thought he was dead would see him, but Vanora thought he was being overly cautious. Alisha had originally planned to take Vanora to the game, but when she had found herself in a frenzied painting streak, Roman had stepped in.

Vanora glanced over at her brother and giggled. He looked so funny with his Astro cap pulled too far down around his ears. Roman was a dork in so many ways, but it made him all the more wonderful.

_Death draws near!_

It wasn't actual words she heard, but an intense, overwhelming feeling. The night transformed around her, growing ominous. Jerking upright in her set, she clenched her hands at her sides, her breath catching in her throat.

_Danger! Danger all around!_

The world became surreal, a blur of white and red lights, shouting voices, honking horns, and squealing tires. But beyond the chaos of the mortal world, something was watching her.

Something _behind_ her.

Twisting about in her seat, Vanora glanced out the rear window. Her eyes widened when she saw a strikingly tall, thin woman standing directly behind Roman's car, her hands resting on her hips. Large luminous eyes glowed in the brightness of the brake lights and stood out sharply on her pale angular face, capturing Vanora's gaze. The teenager trembled, sensing the dark power of the woman coursing through the night and attempting to entangle her mind.

She attempted to convince herself that it was the reflection of the Mercedes' brake lights that caused the woman's eyes to glow red and that she was just being silly and imagining things, but the truth kept screaming through her thoughts, banishing those lies. A creature of the night had stumbled across them. Vanora struggled to muster the willpower to look away from those dark, subtly glowing, red eyes, but she was riveted by her gaze.

_Your brother? Who is he?_

Vanora heard the voice clearly in her mind. A strong, determined voice demanding an answer.

"Roman," Vanora whispered hoarsely, her voice trembling.

"Hold on, Snow Pea. I'm in a little bit of a jam right now," Roman said briskly, concentrating on several cars trying to cut in front of him.

_Roman? Roman Socoli?_

Abruptly, the woman's red lips gleefully turned upward.

_Excellent, little girl._

The woman whirled about and, with long, fluid strides, climbed over the car following the Mercedes and disappeared from view as the driver of the car screamed at her for denting his hood.

Released from the woman's power, Vanora grabbed hold of her brother's arm. "Roman, did you see that weird woman? She just walked over the car behind us!"

"What woman?" Roman asked, obviously more interested in maneuvering his way out of the parking lot than listening to Vanora.

"There was some lady who-" Vanora cut herself off when she looked through the windshield and felt her blood run cold. "There she is again!"

The woman had reappeared, this time standing to the side of their car with two other men. All three stared at the Mercedes. Both of the men listened intently as the woman spoke. One of the men, a tall, handsome creature with raven hair flowing down his back, began to walk toward the car with long, purposeful strides.

Fear gripped Vanora, squeezing both her breath and her voice from her. The raw, terrifying desire to run burned within her. Danger loomed in the night, stalking her in the guise of three beautiful creatures. Vanora instinctively knew that these three strangers were vampires.

The male vampire stood next to the car ahead of them in, waiting for the line to advance. His fine dark hair rippled around his shoulders. Intense dark eyes gazed into the Mercedes, examining those within.

"Don't move the car!" Vanora gasped, finally finding her voice.

"Vanora, I'd like to go home," Roman said, giving her a quizzical look.

The car moved up a few feet.

How could Roman not feel them?

The vampires began to talk passionately among themselves, gesturing toward the car.

"Roman, can't you feel them! Can't you see them?" Vanora screamed at her brother. She felt vulnerable within the car, easy prey to the menace lurking beyond the glass and steel contraption.

Roman finally noticed the hysteria in his sister's voice. "Feel who? Vanora, what's going on?"

"Those vampires!" Vanora exclaimed, pointing frantically.

"Vampires? Where?" Roman asked.

Vanora looked toward the place where the vampires had gathered. Only a spot of empty asphalt, littered with scraps of trash remained where the vampires had stood. None of them were in sight.

"There really were these weird people, Roman! Vampires! I'm sure of it! They were watching the car!"

Roman grasped Vanora's hand tightly. "I think your imagination is getting to you. I'm here. You're safe. You don't have to worry about anyone hurting you. Oh, here we go!"

The Mercedes finally exited the parking lot and began to speed away from the Minute Maid Park complex. The traffic was now moving swiftly and Vanora felt safer as the baseball park fell away behind them.

"Roman, I know what I saw. I saw other vampires!"

Roman squeezed her hand. "Maybe you did, but they didn't bother us and we'll be home within an hour. You're safe with me, Vanora. Trust me."

Vanora didn't respond. She was shaken to the very core of her soul. Ever since that horrible night when Roman killed that first vampire, she had hoped never to be that afraid again. Tonight, she had felt the cold, helpless fear that overwhelms the senses and renders a person powerless. She'd felt weak in her mortality, vulnerable to the predators that ruled the night. The surreal dream world she inhabited and called home had lost its allure. Yes, her brother and sister were vampires with human hearts, but there were others who could threaten and destroy the safe haven they had created for themselves. Armando had spoken of others who embraced the old ways, and Vanora feared that these vampires had found them. Now, she could only hope that they would stay away and not destroy those she loved.

* * *

The vampire with the strong features of the indigenous people of Mexico landed lightly on the roof of the Minute Maid Park. Two other vampires waited for him. One was the woman who had frightened Vanora Socoli; the other was a man with long black hair, kneeling at her side. The woman stood impassively, her dark eyes gazing toward the illuminated skyline of the city. Sensing the presence of the new arrival, she turned toward him, her eyes questioning.

"I followed them back to their home. It's an estate near the outer reaches of the city," the Mexican vampire stated, moving swiftly toward her.

"Angel, I knew I could count on you. You're the best tracker we have." She pronounced his name A _n-hel._

"It wasn't too hard, Sheila. He's not really cautious," Angel answered, shrugging.

Sheila smiled, her fangs glistening in the moonlight. "So, Angel, we found our elusive Roman Socoli at last," she said in an Australian-accented voice.

"What do you think, Sheila? Is he what you imagined?" Angel asked.

Sheila shrugged her bony shoulders and fastened her eyes on the male vampire seated at her feet. He returned her gaze, and she rested her hand on his cheek. "Alexander and I have been searching for Roman for nearly a year now, and I never knew what to expect. Now I know the face of the man I seek and I cannot be disappointed that my quest has come to an end."

Alexander rose to his feet and pressed his lips to Sheila's cheek softly. Sheila held his hands to her lips and kissed them gently.

"So do we tell the others?" Angel asked impatiently.

Sheila's eyes flicked toward Angel for a second, then returned her gaze to her mate's loving eyes. "Of course. Once we gather the rest, we'll go to the rebel vampire and reveal ourselves. The search is over. Our time has come."

# 23

**_June 2005_**

It was a balmy June night. Vanora was up later than she would have been during the school year and was busy soundly beating her sister, brother, and Armando at Monopoly. Armando had, at last, won his trust, and it made the evening much more enjoyable that he was not to be under Roman's constant scrutiny. Roman had finally relaxed his strict edict about not allowing Armando to interact with Alisha and Vanora.

It was Armando's first real contact with Vanora since their short talk in April, and he found her immensely entertaining.

"I own you!" Vanora screamed as Roman landed on one of her properties. "Yes! Yes! I'm rich! Filthy rich!"

"You're ruthless," Roman sighed as he counted out the play money.

Vanora threw her hands up over her head and bounced around on her chair. "I'm in the money! I'm in the money!"

"She's almost as bad as you are," Alisha decided, looking toward Roman.

"Roman dances around with his hands in the air when he closes a deal?" Armando asked, flashing a wicked smile.

"Oh, yeah. It's really embarrassing." Alisha met Roman's glare with one of her own, then her brother laughed.

"There's no proof," Roman said, wagging a finger at Alisha.

"Oh, give it time. I'll get it. That's what video cameras are for."

Vanora smacked Roman's shoulder. "Pay up, loser."

Roman handed over the colorful play money, his dark eyes fastened on his sister's face. "I will get you back. Maybe not tonight, but someday."

"Ooh, I'm sooo scared," Vanora responded, sorting out the bills into color-coded stacks.

"I'd forgotten why I avoid playing board games with Snow Pea," Alisha said, picking up the dice. "I usually want to slap her silly before the night is out.'

"That's child abuse." Vanora stuck out her tongue.

"Put that thing back in your mouth," Roman ordered, but couldn't help but smile as he took inventory of his greatly diminished funds.

Armando appeared relaxed, sitting comfortably in his chair and watching the siblings argue. He was always careful not to reveal his true state of mind. Projecting an amiable persona wasn't always easy. Though he had come to enjoy his friendship with Roman Socoli, it was difficult not to forget that he had been ordered to befriend the man and observe him closely. The situation was even more complicated by the fact that the young girl before him was the true reason for his intrusion into their lives.

After their talk, he had been a bit bothered, yet flattered by her obvious crush on him. She had even changed her attire, dressing less child-like and more like the fashionable young women in her age group. Already, he could tell that she would be a beautiful young woman with a unique look due to her albinism. Her intelligence and cleverness made her fate seem even crueler. A part of him regretted that he was being used as an instrument against her, but his loyalty lay with his Master, and not with those seated around the table.

Leaning her elbows on the table, Vanora smiled at him triumphantly. "Basically, Armando, you have to roll a seven to avoid owing me your soul. Roll anything else and I own you!" She looked like a wicked angel with her white hair falling over her shoulders, framing her big lavender eyes.

Alisha leaned into Armando, her breath smelling of wine and pig's blood. "I really should have warned you about her bloodthirstiness. It's really disturbing. We didn't raise her this way."

"I have no idea where she gets it from," Roman added, winking at his youngest sister.

"Stop delaying! I have a game to win!" Vanora leaned across the table and plopped the dice in front of Armando. "Roll it, sucker!"

Armando arched an eyebrow, watching her blush under his gaze. "A seven?"

"Yep." Vanora rubbed her hands together. "Gimme money."

With a deft flick of his wrist, Armando sent the dice rolling across the board. They hopped around a bit before coming to a rest. One dice rested on two, the other on five.

Vanora gasped in horror as Armando moved his miniature iron to a safe spot on the board.

"That was most excellent," Alisha said, clapping.

"You may have met your match," Roman said, nudging Vanora with his elbow.

Armando tilted his head sharply when he heard the distinct sound of vampire heartbeats. Not Roman and Alisha, but someone beyond the house.

"I will crush you all!" Vanora took stock of her empty glass. "I need a soda. Any of you want blood on ice?

"Snow Pea!"

"Alisha!"

"You gross me out when you talk like that," Alisha chided.

"You're the bloodsucker!"

Alisha dramatically flailed in her chair. "Can I please beat her up, Roman?"

"Let her live a little longer. I want my revenge," Roman responded while studying the board.

Armando watched the teenager bounce out of the room: his ears were now filled with the steady beating of not one vampire heart, but of many. A group of vampires was descending on the house for unknown purposes. Armando was alarmed by this unexpected event. He was ill prepared to defend Vanora.

_Vanora! She should not be alone!_

Armando began to excuse himself when Vanora screamed.

Instantaneously, Armando was out the door and in the hallway, his chair crashing to the floor.

"Vanora!" Alisha cried out behind him.

Roman's hurried footsteps followed Armando into the hall. Vanora continued to scream, her voice coming from the kitchen. Armando was the first to enter. He was horrified to find Vanora cowering on the floor, her hands over her ears, shrieking in terror. Armando fell to his knees and grabbed hold of her hands.

"What is it, Vanora? You must tell me!" He witnessed the strange quivering of her eyes, a swift movement from side to side, and was uncertain she could even see him. This manifestation of her power was fascinating, but the danger at hand was more important. "What do you see?"

"Make them go away! Make them go away, Armando!" Vanora cried out desperately.

"Who are they, Vanora?" Armando demanded. "You must tell me who they are! What do you see?"

"They're coming, Armando! They're coming!" Vanora sobbed. "Please make them go away."

"Who? Vanora, who are they?" Armando persisted. The names of enemies poured through his mind, and he felt ill-equipped to deal with such a large attack.

"You're frightening her!" Roman declared and pushed Armando aside.

Armando hissed with irritation.

"What's wrong, Vanora? Talk to me?" Roman said in a much calmer voice.

Vanora lifted her tear-streaked face, her pink lips trembling. "They're out there! I can feel them, their darkness pushing in on me!"

Alisha hovered above her siblings, looking about apprehensively. "Roman, I think she's right! I sense something."

"They want you, Roman! They need you!" Vanora wailed. Tears streamed from her frantic eyes, her hands clutching Roman's.

"But who are they, Vanora?" Armando demanded.

Vampires were gathering somewhere in the darkness, seeking out Roman for unknown reasons, and he was afraid of their intentions. Vampires had a tendency to eliminate each other in bloody purges. At first, Armando had considered the possibility that it was his Master who was approaching, but knew that his Master was preoccupied with other matters. This could only mean that other vampires had found Roman and had gathered for some enigmatic purpose.

"Please, Armando! Let me handle this," Roman said firmly. "Vanora, are you sensing something?"

"Of course she is Roman!" Alisha snapped. "They're out there! Vanora is sensing them, Roman! I can feel that something is wrong, but not as strongly. We're in danger! Vanora, what is it? What's out there?"

Roman cast an angry look at Alisha. "Let me deal with this. Vanora, what is it you're feeling?"

"Voices in my head...voices calling your name...heartbeats pounding...but not normal heartbeats...they are too harsh...too slow....They need you! They want you! I feel that so strongly! They need your power! That is why they are coming! For you!"

"Who, Snow Pea? Who are they?" Alisha asked fearfully.

"The other vampires!" Vanora nearly choked on her words. "The ones I saw before!"

Armando gripped Roman's arm tightly. "What is she talking about?"

"She thought she saw vampires about a month ago. Nothing came of it."

"Why didn't you tell me? There are many dangerous factions out there, Roman!"

Roman's face twisted, his emotions twisting his features into a desperate mask. "Nothing came of it! It wasn't important."

"You should have told me," Armando growled at him.

"I didn't trust you then!"

"Do you trust me now?" Armando snapped.

Roman looked pensive, his arms wrapped protectively around Vanora. "I trust no one but myself when it comes to my sisters."

Armando flung up a hand in irritation, then concentrated all his senses on the approaching pack of vampires. There were far too many for him to fight.

"Why do they need me?" Roman asked his sister softly.

Vanora clawed at Roman's shirt, her face wild and terrified. She was shaking violently, she could hardly speak. Roman held her close, rocking back and forth, striving to calm her.

Armando leaned over Roman and Vanora. "Roman, we can't be sure of the other vampires' intentions. We'd best leave now!"

"Why would they come here?" Alisha exclaimed. "I don't understand!"

Roman's brow furrowed, his eyes burning with intensity as he considered the possible gravity of the situation. "Why are they coming for me? Do they intend to destroy me? This is my home! They can't enter!"

"They want you, Roman! They need you!" Vanora sputtered. She clutched Armando's pant leg. "Please, make them go away, Armando!"

Armando ran his hands through his hair, uncertain of what to do. He was supposed to protect the girl. That is why his Master had sent him here. Above all other things, he had to fulfill his duty to his Master. So that was what he was going to do. Armando reached down and took hold of Vanora's arms. He easily pulled her away from Roman.

"What are you doing?" Roman demanded, startled by his friend's actions.

Vanora cowered in Armando's grip as he hauled her about and rushed her toward the exit to the garage.

"I'm taking Vanora away from here now! It isn't safe! We should all leave!"

"No! No!" Vanora screamed. "We can't leave! They need Roman!" The girl was incoherent, obviously not aware of what was happening beyond her own wild thoughts. With a savage twist, jerked away from Armando and ran into the front hall.

"Stop her!" Alisha cried out. "We have to protect her!"

Armando sprinted after the teenager and caught her in the hallway. She twisted in his grasp, beating at him with her hands. He found it difficult to hold onto her. Strong currents of power kept repulsing him, causing him to lose his grip on her delicate limbs. "Don't be a fool! You must not listen to the vampires! Don't listen to them, Vanora! Block them from your mind!"

"They're coming! They're coming!" Vanora wailed, tearing at her white hair, her eyes frenzied. Her body rocked, the kinetic energy pouring out of her electrifying the air about her.

Armando finally managed to wrap his arms around the teenager, pulling her against him.

"We need to get to the car." Alisha rushed to the table in the hallway where she always left her purse and keys.

Armando jerked the girl upwards in his arms, holding her close, prepared to carry her out when he saw Roman striding toward the front door. "Roman, no!"

# 24

Roman watched his youngest sister with fearful fascination. His gaze strayed toward the front door, his face deeply lined in the shadows, his brow furrowing as he pondered their situation. Suddenly, he marched toward the front door, a determined expression on his face. "Alisha, Armando, get Vanora out of here!"

Alisha ran after her brother and seized his forearm. "No, Roman, no!"

"Alisha, I want to know what is going on!" Roman's face was incredibly fierce, his eyes subtly glowing. He had not looked this way since the night he had destroyed his Master. "Now, go."

Under his intense gaze, Alisha relinquished her hold on her brother's arm. "Do what you have to, but please, be careful!"

"No! Roman, don't go out there!" Vanora cried out.

Armando dragged Vanora down the hallway to prevent her from following Roman. "Don't be a fool, Roman! You don't know who is out there!"

"I have to do this! If they found me for a reason, then I have to know why they have sought me out. I have to know their reasoning for coming here. Armando, I want you to escape with Vanora and Alisha, and take them to a safe place." Roman grabbed hold of the doorknob and yanked the door open.

The wind moaned through the doorway, a gush of unseasonably cold, night air flowing over everyone in the foyer of the house. Silver moonlight spilled into the hallway, washing over Roman's imposing form. Beyond him, the night was silent, peaceful, yet dark powers churned and flowed in invisible waves, pressing in upon him. Standing serenely, all dressed in black, their pale flesh translucent in the moonlight, eyes blazing through the darkness, stood nearly fifty vampires. Tightly clustered together, their burning eyes intensely regarding Roman, they whispered softly to each other.

He was afraid for a moment but then thought of his sisters.

Stepping out quickly, he shut the door behind him

A tall woman stood before all of them. She was a lithe creature with dark brown hair pulled severely up onto the top of her head, her dark green eyes and ruby red lips standing out sharply on her pale face. Standing slightly behind her was a very suave handsome man with long black hair that gleamed like raven's feathers. Dressed in a Gothic, eighteenth-century style suit, his most striking feature was his light blue eyes. Slowly, the woman's dark lips spread into a smile

"You are Roman Socoli?" she called out.

Roman was overwhelmed by the presence of the new vampires. He could feel the potent power of their gaze. Instinctively, he knew that if these vampires had come to kill him and his family, they were all doomed. The blood power was strong in these vampires, emanating outward from them in dark, chilling waves. It was the power he had felt in his Master and in Armando multiplied fifty times. He was so overcome by their immense power, it took him nearly a minute before he nodded and responded, "Yes, I am Roman Socoli."

The vampires all began to whisper among themselves, their eyes burning with dark fire.

The female vampire, who was obviously their spokesperson, smiled, her dark red lips pulling back from her long fangs. "Then it is you we have been searching for."

Slowly, all the vampires bowed their heads as the woman stepped forward, approaching Roman. Her expression was rapt, her dark green eyes glowing like the dying embers of a great fire. She was beautiful, ethereal, and so obviously deadly.

"My name is Sheila. I have been searching for you for nearly a year along with my mate, Alexander. As we sought you out, we found others who shared our quest to find you. We are all gathered here tonight."

"I don't understand," Roman said, clearly uneasy.

The door burst open and Alisha stumbled onto the front step, the door closing behind her to block out Vanora's terrified screams. She clutched a stake in one hand. At the sight of the vampires, she gasped.

Sheila's eyes flickered toward Alisha, then back to Roman. He moved swiftly to block her way into the house.

"Explain why you are here," Roman said in his most commanding voice.

Slightly bowing her head, Sheila took on a more demure stance. "We mean no offense coming here."

Again the front door burst open, this time Vanora stumbling out into the night, her white arms held out as if to ward off the vampires. Her white hair and skin gleamed in the moonlight, giving her an ethereal appearance.

"Vanora," Roman hissed.

"Don't hurt him!" she cried out. "Don't hurt him!"

Armando stepped onto the stoop appearing shaken, his hand pressed to his head. Roman glowered at him, but Armando just stared at Vanora in disbelief.

"We're not here to hurt him, child," Sheila said to Vanora, looking aghast.

Clutching Roman's arm with quivering fingers, she pressed herself into Roman's side. He was angered by her presence, yet touched by her bravery.

"If you're not here to hurt us, then why are you here?" Roman asked.

Sheila took a cautious step forward. The vampires behind her remained unmoving. "Let me explain. We have all lived in darkness for so long. We are all damned to this world of eternal night and endless killing. We all dream of the time when we were still able to face the sun and our immortality would have been in the eyes of our children. But that time ended when we were cursed with the Dark Gift. Many of us had given up hope for any semblance of a mortal life. We have lived in fear of losing our immortal lives at the hands of the hunters. We feared staying together, afraid that our numbers would allow us to be detected and destroyed. We lived with the guilt of our hunger and the death it brought to others. Until now. This is the book that set us free to live again." Sheila held out her long, pale hands. In her grasp was a leather-bound book with a large gash across its front cover. In gold lettering, it said _Roman's Law._

"Where did you get that?" Armando demanded from where he stood in the doorway.

"A small bookstore. The leather cover attracted me. What's inside liberated me," Sheila responded. "It liberated all of us."

In unison with the other vampires, Sheila sank to her knees, her head bowed reverently. "For years we have lived without direction, without the guidance of a Master. Until now. We have sought you out, Roman Socoli, because we need you." Sheila lifted her eyes to Roman, her face illuminated by hope. "We have come to honor the man whom we chose to call our Master. That is you, Roman Socoli. We choose you to lead us."

* * *

As Roman moved among the vampires, greeting them, learning their names, embracing them as brothers and sisters of the night, Armando watched in silence. Alisha followed in her brother's wake, obviously a little more frightened, yet hope was in her eyes. At Roman's request, Vanora stood on the stoop with Armando, watching. Small tremors wracked her body, but she refused to go inside.

"Don't hold your breath," Armando said to her in a low voice. "Take deep breaths and concentrate on pushing them out of your mind."

Nodding mutely, Vanora slowly dragged air into her lungs, then released it.

"Keep doing that." Armando touched her shoulder lightly, yet fearfully.

While attempting to carry her to safety, Vanora had sent him to his knees. Guarding himself against the other vampires, not the human girl, she had been able to render him nearly senseless with her mind. It was as if icy water had poured into him, instantly paralyzing him. He wasn't even certain if she was aware she had done it.

"Now, pretend that you have walls in your head protecting your mind. Push all the voices outside those walls."

The girl again nodded, closing her eyes. Her white eyelashes fluttered as she concentrated. Armando sensed her reeling her power back within herself.

"Very good."

Opening her eyes, Vanora reached out and gripped his hand. "I was really scared."

"I know. But they come in friendship. If they wanted to hurt your brother, they would have already attacked and killed us all." He squeezed her hand gently. "You're safe."

Resting her head against his arm, Vanora sighed. "I feel safe with you here. Like you'll protect me from the bad vampires."

The irony of her words was not lost on him. "I will protect you, Vanora."

That was no lie. He would protect her until his Master commanded him to bring her to him.

# Part IV

**_Present Day_**

_Vanora was exhausted and the road was lulling her to sleep. Loud music, coffee, and rubbing her fatigued eyes did not help. Gripping the steering wheel even tighter, she blearily stared at the road._

_Only an hour remained in her trip, yet it was a struggle to remain awake minute to minute. Though she hadn't seen, nor sensed anything menacing in the night for some time, she was too afraid to pull the car over. She had just enough gas to make it to the mansion, so no more stops were required._

_Flexing her hands, she stretched her neck and rolled her shoulders. The night felt absolute and daunting. She was afraid, yet resolute._

_Armando's warning had been clear._

_Roman's life was in danger._

_Reaching for the knob to turn the music on even louder, Vanora felt her thoughts slipping, dreamy images filling her mind's eye. The car slid off the road onto the shoulder. Vanora barely jerked herself awake before completely nodding off. A tree loomed in front of her. Shoving her foot down on the brake, she brought the car to a skidding stop._

_The driver's door whipped open, eliciting a surprised cry from her lips. Armando crouched beside her, his hand on her shoulder. "It's just me."_

_"The door was locked," she stuttered._

_"I'll pay to have it repaired," he answered simply. "You frightened me."_

_"Yeah, well..." She yawned, covering her mouth quickly with one hand._

_Reaching into the car, Armando shoved the gearshift into park. "I'll drive."_

_Feeling almost drunk, Vanora slid out of the car, standing beside the vampire. He startled her by placing an arm around her shoulder but allowed him to guide her to the passenger side._

_"You're not telling me everything, are you?" she said, her eyes narrowed._

_"No, but do I ever?" Again, his teasing smile spread over his shapely lips._

_The heat in her face embarrassed her. Here she was at twenty years of age acting like a sixteen-year-old again. Settling into the passenger seat, she swept her long white-blond hair from her face, scrutinizing him openly. Ever the gentleman, he buckled her in. He was so close she could feel his aura sliding over her skin. It was like cold silk brushing over her heated flesh. His soft curls tickled her lips briefly and she turned her face away._

_"Are we still being followed?" she finally asked._

_"Not anymore," Armando responded. "I took care of them."_

_"Who are THEY?"_

_"We'll talk about it later," Armando shut the door and hurried around to the driver's seat. Once settled in, he pulled the car back onto the highway._

_Exhausted, Vanora tilted her head against the headrest, staring at him through her lashes. "Why not now?"_

_"You need to sleep," he answered simply._

_"I don't want to sleep." She didn't want to dream of HIM._

_Armando's fingers were whisper soft against her cheek and chin. "Sleep, Vanora. I'm here. I'll take care of you."_

_Armando's touch transfixed her and she inclined her face away from him to escape it. "But I don't trust you."_

_"Perhaps not in all things, but in this you must trust me."_

_"Because of Roman..."_

_"Yes."_

_"Because he might die."_

_"Yes."_

_Wiping a tear away, she struggled not to fall into the embrace of sleep._

_In spite of her distrust and her terrible attraction to him, when Armando took her hand to console her, she allowed him to._

_"Sleep, Vanora," he said._

_And she did._

# 25

The boundaries of their small world exploded outward with the arrival of the new vampires. No longer did they live in a small world enclosed by the stone walls surrounding the Socoli Estate. There were no more delusions that they were alone in their dark world. Armando had brought to the Socolis the knowledge that other vampires existed; the new vampires brought with them the experience of their own lives. Together, as a whole, they constructed a new existence for themselves.

Slowly, the Socolis saw beyond the horizon of their own existence into a world where vampires were created in moments of mad bloodlust and abandoned by their Masters to exist alone in the darkness of the night. It soon became apparent that the vampires often lived alone, or in small packs, always seeking out a vampire who could give some meaning to their dark existence, always searching and never finding the one who could answer all their questions. Only Roman, a comparably young vampire, seemed to hold any answers at all, and they were willing to follow him faithfully.

Roman believed firmly in taking control of one's humanity and pursuing a life in the mortal world. To vampires who had existed in the shadows, terrified of detection, haunted by memories of the hunters, Roman's beliefs were exotic and seductive.

All the vampires were born and reborn in the Americas, with the exception of Sheila. She was the only foreign vampire, born in Australia, transformed into a vampire by her own father along with the rest of her family. She alone had escaped a massacre that had destroyed her family and had shipped herself to America. Arriving in Louisiana, she had found Alexander, a gigolo who had seduced too many young rich virgins and had his throat slit by an irate father. A vampire had found his bleeding body and brought him over. Alexander had also been abandoned by his Master. Mute, due to the savage slice across his throat, and alone, he'd been chased by the hunters, and narrowly rescued by Sheila. Together, they had hidden together through the centuries, avoiding the hunters, trusting only each other.

The oldest of the new vampires was Angel, a vampire from Mexico. Nearly three-hundred years old but having the appearance of a sixteen-year-old, he was the most skittish of the vampires. He had traveled with many different packs: some that had fallen apart due to infighting, others destroyed by the hunters.

The youngest vampire was a freckle-faced, red-headed vampire from East Texas named Zachary. He was so young, his picture was still being regularly printed out on missing person posters.

Even though the vampires came from many different cultures, ethnic groups, and time periods, they all desired one common, seemingly unattainable dream: To live without fear in the world of the mortals and to not be alone. _Roman's Law_ had drawn them together, but Roman Socoli gave them a family.

After that first, tense night, the vampires knew they had found a new leader and a new existence. Though some were reluctant at first, many of the vampires abandoned their nightly hunts in the city for human blood in exchange for consuming animal blood. Others became brave enough to fake their way into human society and took up jobs. All began to legitimately buy homes or rent apartments, deliberately interacting with the mortals around them. But no matter what they did in their lives, they always returned to the Socoli Estate to consult with Roman. Soon they began to bring other vampires they found wandering the night. Calling themselves Roman's vampires, their ranks continued to grow.

Roman took it all in stride. He had always been a leader and he easily slipped into the role of mentor to the vampires. Alisha was frightened at first but soon connected with individual vampires in a very personal way. Sheila and Alisha became the best of friends, both sharing a common rebirth and views on their vampire existence.

That left Vanora Socoli on the outside looking in.

Vanora was the only mortal among the vampires. For the first year after their arrival, Roman kept her apart from the vampires who were only allowed into the house after she was safely in bed. Then, gradually, Roman allowed her to visit with the newcomers when he, Alisha, or Armando was present. To Vanora's surprise, the vampires loved to hear of her mortal life and always treated her as though she were some sort of princess. It was clear that their admiration of her brother rubbed off a little on her and Alisha.

Vanora was proud of her brother and glad that her siblings were not alone in their dark world, but the Monopoly board sitting on the game table untouched spoke volumes to her. Every piece remained in the exact position it had been the night the vampires had arrived.

# 26

**_January 2007_**

One night, Armando found Vanora in Roman's study around midnight staring at the game board. The merry voices of the vampires visiting with Roman echoed through the house. It was a Friday night and Armando knew Vanora had just returned from a concert with her friend Rhonda. He had noted that her siblings were too busy to notice her arrival and had kept a watch for her. His one-on-one interaction with the girl had been limited in the year since the arrival of the vampires. His Master was not pleased with his slow progress and insisted on him finding a way to keep a closer eye on the girl.

"Good evening," Armando said from the doorway.

Vanora glanced at him, her long whitish hair falling over her shoulders. Clad in a black dress, ankle boots, silver jewelry, and wearing makeup, Vanora looked older than her years. Armando was momentarily stunned at how beautiful the girl was becoming. Already the remnants of the child she had once been were melting away from her features. Soon she would be a very lovely young woman, but for now, she was a teenager struggling to find her way into adulthood.

"Why aren't you with the others?" Vanora asked gloomily, her fingers tracing over the Monopoly board.

"I heard the car pull up and you get out. I have very good hearing, you know," Armando said, flashing his wickedly, charming smile. "Alisha told me you went to a concert with some school friends. Who did you see?"

"Rhonda's older brother is in a band. He wanted me to go. Rhonda says he likes me." Vanora shrugged her delicate shoulders and folded her arms over her breasts. "I guess they're starting to become a big deal locally. It was okay, I guess."

Arching an eyebrow, Armando said, "So you don't like this boy who tried so hard to impress you tonight?"

"Not really. He's nice, but..." Vanora lightly bit her bottom lip, her cheeks blushing.

"I thought girls liked boys in bands," Armando teased.

"I'm no ordinary teenage girl. I've got vampires for relatives, remember?" Vanora collapsed into a chair and crossed her legs.

"I sense that you are not in a good mood." Armando sat across from her, his golden eyes studying her face.

"Duh," Vanora said softly, her fingers tugging at the hem of her dress.

Armando rubbed his chin, studying her thoughtfully. He wasn't very well acquainted with how a girl's mind worked, but he had enough dealings with Carlotta to guess. She was always sulky when she didn't get enough attention. "I suppose that you aren't too happy about the others being here every night."

"It's that obvious?" Vanora's snowy lashes were painted black and the heavy, dark fringe framing her pupils brought out their lovely shade of lavender. It made her look older.

Armando chuckled. "I was guessing. It was either that or a boy you like doesn't like you in return."

Vanora's eyes slightly narrowed at him. "Uh. Right." She fussed with her hair and fidgeted in her chair.

Armando was surprised to realize her crush on him remained. It had been nearly a year since his arrival in her life, and he assumed she would find a teenage boy to fall for. Uneasily, he wondered if this would work to his advantage or not.

"You know it wouldn't be so bad if they weren't here _all_ the time. I mean, I know they adore my brother, but why can't they just get themselves a life and leave us alone?" Her teeth pulled on her bright red lower lip.

Armando lifted an eyebrow, considered what she said, and then said, "If it was only that simple. As a vampire, you live a very long life. You are supposedly immortal, but you know that if a hunter finds you, your life ends, you cease to exist, and you move on to judgment. We're all terribly afraid of death. So being afraid, we sometimes isolate ourselves. So when we do find others, we want to hold onto that unity."

Vanora sighed and curled up on the chair, swinging her long legs over the armrest. "I can understand that, but do they have to be in my house? Armando, when you got here, I mean, it was like no big deal. You just hung out once in a while and you're pretty cool and all, but, geez, they're here every freakin' night!" Vanora threw up her hands. "It drives me crazy! And the worst thing is that I really like a lot of them. I mean, Sheila is so cool."

Armando chuckled, eliciting a frown from the girl. "You're just jealous. Plain and simple. You want your family to yourself and that is perfectly understandable. I miss visiting alone with Roman, but I have lived long enough to realize that nothing remains the same for long. Life is a series of changes, and you must adjust to survive."

"I don't _want_ things to change," Vanora lamented.

Armando leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. "But you're changing, Vanora. Every day you take one step closer to the woman you will one day be."

"It can't happen soon enough," she answered gloomily.

"Enjoy being a teenager. From what I've seen on television, it's a lot more fun than it was when I was your age."

Rolling her eyes, she shook her head. "Older people always say that. But they forget how hard it really is. It's like having to take a test every day. Tonight some girl asked me how I get my hair so white." She flicked her wavy tresses with her fingers. "When I told her I was an albino, she acted like I had the plague."

Armando winced, then shook his head. "She sounds like a simpleton."

"If you mean she had the 'stupid' disease, I couldn't agree more." Vanora tugged at her hair. "It makes me want to dye my hair and spray tanner on myself."

"But your beauty is unique," Armando protested. The thought of such a pretty girl altering herself to suit the tastes of idiots was very repugnant to him. Yes, her coloring was quite startling when first viewed, but Armando never thought of her as anything other than lovely. "It sets you apart."

Raising her eyes to the ceiling, Vanora sighed. "Yeah. That's what I really want. To be apart. To be a total outcast."

It was time to set his plan in motion. He had waited for a very long time for such an opening. Armando reached into his pocket and pulled out a sheet of paper. "You're a very talented outcast then. I picked this up that night we were playing this game." He gestured toward the Monopoly board.

Vanora leaned forward and peered down at the pencil marks she had scratched on the corner of the paper. It was a sketch of Armando and a fairly decent one at that. Her cheeks reddened.

"You were keeping track of how much everyone owed you on this piece of paper, but you sketched me in the corner," he said gently.

"Oh, yeah, I do that all the time when I'm bored. You should see my notebook at school. I actually got points deducted from a test because I drew Mr. Lambert in the margin." Vanora smirked at the memory.

"You're very talented."

She dismissed his compliment with a shrug. "Oh, I'm not half as good as Alisha."

"Your styles are very different, but I think you have a lot of talent."

"Really?" She looked at him with disbelief, but also a smidgen of pride.

"Yes, really. Would I lie to you?" Armando gave her his most charming smile.

Her eyes widened slightly. "I guess not."

"Vanora, you really should keep sketching and honing your skills. I would love it if you'd continue to show me your work. I also believe Roman and Alisha will be thrilled if you developed your talent."

"You think so?" Vanora pondered this for a second. "Well, you know, I have been considering taking an art class at school. I'm going to be a senior and I have a ton of elective slots."

"I think you should."

Vanora's expression brightened, obviously pleased with the attention she was receiving. "Then I will. But you've got to promise not to make fun of my stuff. I'm not as good as Alisha."

"I would never do that. Besides, I think you have the potential to be as good as your sister. You definitely have talent. At least in my humble opinion."

Her blush intensifying, Vanora lowered her eyes. "Well, thanks."

Armando lightly touched her arm. "You aren't alone, Vanora. I'm your friend. You know that, don't you? Even when your sister and brother are busy with their new friends?"

"Thanks, Armando." Vanora attempted to stifle a yawn but failed. "I guess I'm a little more tired than I thought." She looked reluctant to retire, but another yawn caught her.

Armando stood and, taking her hand, gently pulled her to her feet. "I think I'd best get back to the others and you'd better get some rest."

"Can you tell Roman and Alisha that I got home okay?"

"Of course."

Vanora gave him a swift hug, then hurried out of the room, her head tilted forward so her hair would hide her reddened face.

Armando watched her leave with a sly smile on his face. The girl was beginning to confide in him. The Master would be pleased. It had been difficult these last few months to even get close to the girl. Roman and Alisha had kept careful tabs on her, never allowing her to be alone. Tonight he had successfully laid the foundation for a continuing dialogue with her, and he hoped to gain her trust. He supposed he could use her crush against her, but he was leery of doing so. His Master tended to be jealous.

Yet somehow his success tonight was devoid of any pleasure, and this caused him some concern. Armando had grown accustomed to the emptiness within himself and the lack of any deeply felt emotions. Lately, to his surprise, he was beginning to feel connected once more to those around him. It was almost as if his human self had been slumbering and only now was beginning to awaken. Sometimes, when he was with Roman, he would look at his quarry and feel what could only be described as brotherly affection. This was worrisome, dangerous, and frightening. Armando could feel himself slipping from just acting the role his Master had assigned him. Tonight, for a mere moment, he felt as though he were betraying Roman by obeying his Master's wishes to gain Vanora's trust. He had to harden himself against these foolish thoughts.

Armando folded the piece of paper carefully and stowed it away in his coat pocket. Soon his time here would be at an end. Soon his Master's plans would commence, and Roman's little world would be shattered.

# 27

Vanora was freshly showered and combing out her wet hair when she heard a gentle knock on her door.

"Who is it?"

"Me," Alisha's voice answered.

"Come in!"

Alisha scooted in and looked apologetic. "Armando told me you got home a little while ago. I'm _so_ sorry I didn't hear you come in."

Plopping down on the end of her bed, Vanora shrugged. "It's okay."

"No, it's not." Alisha sighed, tucking her hands into the pockets of her skinny jeans. "I was really wrapped up in talking to Sheila and just totally spaced the time. I'm sorry."

Though her feelings were hurt, Vanora shrugged. "It's okay. The concert was kinda boring. Trey kept trying to flirt with me and it was annoying."

"I thought you had a crush on Trey." Alisha sat next to Vanora and cocked her head to watch her sister's expression.

"I did. Then I found out how stupid he is."

Plucking the comb from Vanora's fingers, Alisha began to run it through the long, pale blond locks. "I hate to break it to you, but most boys are stupid."

"I guess." Vanora sighed. She didn't feel like talking about boys. The private school she attended had small classes, and she had known all the kids for years. The only boy to show any real interest in her was her best friend's older brother and he was a bit of a jerk. One of her most painful experiences was when a boy she liked told her that he might ask her out if she ever dyed her hair, got a tan, and started looking normal. She had never shared that with Alisha and Roman and wasn't going to. Her siblings insisted that her albinism didn't detract from her, but Vanora knew differently. She saw all the hostile looks, she heard the snide comments, and she knew that people saw her as a freak.

"So you spent some time talking to Armando?"

"A few minutes," Vanora admitted.

Alisha grinned. "You still have a crush on him, huh?"

"Shut up!"

"He is good looking."

"Shut up!"

"Okay, okay! I have to tease you a little bit. You can't be around him without getting all glowy."

"I do not get glowy! I'm just...naturally...uh...Oh, shut up!" Vanora scowled.

"It's okay to have a crush as long as you know it will never work out. He's four hundred and you're about to turn seventeen."

"God, Alisha! I know! Okay!" Vanora suddenly felt like crying and it made her angrier. "I know I'm sixteen and that I've never been kissed or been on a date!"

"I didn't--"

"I lie to my girlfriends and tell them I don't date because my family is super-strict and Catholic, but they know it's because no one has asked me! Ever!" Vanora leaped off the bed and prowled around her room. She was furious at her own frustration and the utter sense of helplessness that enfolded her.

"You're just a late bloomer." Alisha watched her with a sad expression on her face.

"No, Alisha. I'm ugly! I'm a freak. I look like a ghost! I can't be in direct sunlight for long, I have to wear these stupid glasses—which I don't need! I look like a freak! So...what if I have a crush on some old vampire? At least he doesn't look at me like I'm ugly!"

"You're not ugly! You're gorgeous! Don't let stupid people upset you. People who can't appreciate you for who you are!" Alisha stood up and put her hands on her hips. "Gawd, Vanora, you're so beautiful it makes my heart sing. You're like a gorgeous swan."

"I'm the ugly duckling and that's not going to change." Vanora stalked back and forth before her sister. "I'm so tired of people telling me I'm pretty when I know I'm not."

Alisha snagged her arm and stopped her. "Vanora, stop it. Right now."

Angry tears made it hard to see. She felt so lonely and lost.

"I know it's hard for you because of me and Roman being what we are, only living by night, and now the new vampires are here. Maybe I'm not being the sister you need and I'm so sorry if I have been failing you. But I don't want you to take out your frustration on yourself."

"I just...feel lonely," Vanora admitted. She wrapped her arms around her sister, resting her head on her shoulder. The tension in her body dissipated as Alisha embraced her lovingly. "I just miss how it was."

"I know you do. Sometimes, I do, too." Alisha kissed her forehead tenderly.

"You do?"

"I do. The new vampires are amazing and they really do make me feel less alone, less afraid, but I miss our quiet family times."

"Me, too."

"I'll talk to Roman later. Maybe we can carve out some more time to spend with you. Maybe not have the vampires over on the weekends."

Vanora smiled at the thought. She'd love to go back to their late-night movie marathons, or finally finish their Monopoly game. "I'd like that."

Alisha took Vanora's face gruffly between her hands. "And no more about you being ugly! Stop that. You're beautiful. Inside and out. Okay?"

Though Vanora didn't truly believe her sister, she nodded.

"Now, go to sleep and tomorrow we'll go do something with Sin, okay?"

"Okay." Vanora relented to her sister's wishes. The emotional storm was dying down inside her mind and her body was exhausted.

Alisha made a big deal out of tucking her in and kissing her goodnight. "I love you, Snow Pea. Tomorrow we'll do something fun. You're more important to me than anyone in the world. I love you."

"I love you, too," Vanora whispered.

After the door shut behind her sister, Vanora turned on the lamp and slid the drawer of her bed stand open. Inside was a piece of paper that Vanora unfolded. It had taken her weeks to finally be satisfied with the image. After failing to capture a picture of Armando, she had finally drawn him. Studying sketch, she was pleased with how much she had captured his likeness. He really was handsome, and he was always so nice to her. Only when she was around him did she feel even remotely attractive.

With a sigh, she tucked it under her pillow, turned off the light, and closed her eyes to sleep.

# 28

**_February 2007_**

"So no more weekend dates, huh?" Sin scratched his underarm and stretched out his long, muscular body.

"Not for a while," Alisha said, sighing. "Vanora is feeling ignored lately. She's feeling the wrath of her teenage hormones." Lounging nude on the bed in Sin's art studio, she played with the edges of her blond hair.

"Being a teenager sucks balls. She probably needs to get laid."

"Sin!"

"She's a hot sixteen-year-old."

"And about to turn seventeen."

"Well, she'll be technically legal in the state of Texas. She should be boning boys left and right. She's a little hottie."

Alisha rolled her eyes. "Perv."

Sin grinned, his hands tucked behind his head. He had finally grown out his dreads and dyed his blond hair different shades of blue and green. Alisha thought he looked like a merman. "C'mon. You don't think she's not doing anything when she goes out with Rhonda? Rhonda has wild girl stamped all over her."

Frowning, Alisha stared at a stray split end and made a mental note to get her hair trimmed. "Vanora doesn't get asked out by guys. And the only one to like her is apparently _stupid._ "

"All men are stupid when it comes to women." Sin rolled over and nudged her with his broad shoulder. "You honestly don't think she's having a crazy time behind your back?"

"God, I wish!" With an exasperated sigh, Alisha toppled onto her side and stroked his chin lightly. "Honestly, I hate to admit it, but I think her albinism really does hold her back. I've always stressed to her that her condition has no bearing on her as a person, but even I notice the weird looks she gets. I hear the shitty things people say to her."

"Eh, I think she's pretty. But then again, I think she resembles her older, hotter sister."

Alisha smiled. "Flatterer."

Sin gathered her up in his long, arms, his tattoos shifting over his hard muscles. Resting against the hardness of his chest, Alisha felt safe and warm. Sin always made her feel alive and human.

"I love you," Sin whispered, kissing her lips.

"Love you," she answered.

Snuggling her, Sin gently stroked her cheek, his blue eyes staring into hers. "I want to talk to you about something important."

"That sounds...scary."

With a slight shrug and a smile, he said, "Maybe. Depends on how you take it."

"Okay." Alisha eyed him warily.

"Let me talk and just listen. Don't interrupt until I'm done. I've been practicing this for days and I'm nervous."

The sincerity in his gaze and voice made Alisha even more curious and anxious about what he was about to say to her. "I'm listening."

Taking a deep breath, Sin slowly exhaled. "Okay, we've been together for a while now. And it's good. Really good. You've kept me in Houston for so long it kinda boggles my mind. I have serious wanderlust. I hate being in any place longer than a year max. But here I am! Because of you."

That drew a smile out of Alisha, and she nestled into her pillow to listen to him ramble on.

"I know when we first got together you had some...qualms." Sin hesitated, shifting onto his hip and resting his head on his hand so he could gaze down at her. With some obvious trepidation, he plunged on. "The whole thing about your brother Roman was a ruse. I know that now. I found out Roman's dead a while back. I thought it was weird how Vanora never mentioned him and would avoid answering my questions about him. So I did a little investigating and found out how he died."

Alisha tensed, her stomach clenching. What did he know?

"At first I couldn't figure out why you would lie to me about your older brother not liking me until I realized it was your safety line. Your way out if you didn't like me."

Alisha started to open her mouth, but then quickly shut it.

Sin gave her a somewhat wistful smile before flopping back on his pillows. "I also know there is something wrong with you physically. I'm going to guess it's something to do with thyroid since your skin is always so cool. And I also suspect you're bulimic. I do hear you throwing up after you eat." Sin rubbed his face vigorously, drew in a deep breath, and kept talking. "But I don't care about any of it. All I know is that you make me so damn happy. I feel energized when I'm with you. My art is fucking amazing. I'm crazily in love with you and I know if you would just open up to me, we can handle whatever you're dealing with." Rolling over, Sin cupped her face with one hand. "I want us to be together. Really together. You and me, living together, none of this leaving right before dawn shit. I want to wake up with you at my side."

"Sin," Alisha breathed, her throat tight and mind unable to fashion any sort of response out of her muddled, terrified thoughts.

"I got a call from a friend in LA. He's refurbishing this old warehouse into apartments and it has great light. He says he can hook me up with a studio. I think we should both pack it up and head out there. You can get out into the sunshine and get a tan. We can start off a new life."

"I can't," Alisha whispered.

"Look, I know you're worried about Vanora. But she's almost seventeen! She's nearly an adult. You've been telling me for the last year that your uncle and aunt want her to move to Austin. Let her do that. Let her go be with her cousins and hang out in a town that's made for young people. You've been putting your life on hold for your sister and, honestly, Alisha, I think she's doing the same for you. It'll be good for both of you."

Alisha closed her eyes, her heart breaking into a million pieces. Sin's kisses covered her closed lids, her cheeks, and her lips.

"C'mon, Alisha. Let go. Embrace life. Come with me to L.A."

Opening her eyes, Alisha gently brushed her fingertips over his lips. A crazy piece of her wanted to say _yes_. It was as if a part of her was utterly insane and wanted to believe that all he said was possible. Yet, the growing, gnawing hunger inside her was the truth of the situation.

"I know you love me," Sin said, grinning. "Admit it. You want to go with me."

"More than anything," she confessed.

"Then we'll do it! We'll move in June."

Sitting up, she felt vulnerable in her nudity. The pleasant soreness of their lovemaking made her sigh.

Sin's fingers were warm against her back as he slowly drew them up and down the length of her spin. Tangling them in her hair, he drew her into his arms, his lips soft and sensuous against hers.

Tears in her eyes, Alisha kissed him back, ignoring the growing hollow feeling inside of her.

* * *

Roman slouched further on the sofa, his brow furrowed, his hand tapping the armrest. He was watching the Astros on the DVR and he was annoyed by how the game was turning out. He was tempted to fast forward or check the internet to see what the final score had been, but he only sank deeper into the leather sofa and grumbled.

Clad in his pajama bottoms and a t-shirt, he looked nothing like the leader the local vampires virtually worshipped, but he didn't appear exactly human either. His dark hair was mussed from him constantly running his hands through it as the Astros marched toward defeat. On the table was a wine glass that was a mixture of red wine and pig's blood, a far departure from the beer and snack food he had once enjoyed. Since it was the weekend, he was determined to relax and enjoy the silence of the house. While Alisha had been out with Sin, he'd spent time with Vanora playing video games and watching cheesy horror movies. Now his youngest sister was asleep and he was growing increasingly concerned by his other sister's absence.

It was an hour until dawn.

Sipping his wine, he sighed, cradling it against his lips.

The sound of the side door opening and closing brought his frayed nerves relief and he tilted his head so he could see over the back of the sofa. Alisha strode down the hallway, dragging her feet. Her boots left scuff marks that he knew would bring down the ire of Miss Robbins.

"You're late," he said.

Alisha tossed her purse onto the coffee table and collapsed onto the sofa with a loud sigh. "Yeah."

"You okay?"

"No." Shucking off her boots, she tucked her bare feet onto the leather cushions and stared over her knees at him.

"What happened?" Roman immediately paused the game and leaned toward her.

Grabbing his drink, Alisha swallowed it in one gulp. Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, she stared at the bottom of the glass. "Sin wants me to move to L.A. with him and start a life together."

"I see." Roman wasn't exactly sure what the strange sound in her voice meant. He knew there was no way that Alisha could leave with Sin, but he wondered if she realized it.

"By the way, he thinks you're dead and that I was pretending you didn't like him so I could give myself an out of the relationship. Also, he's pretty sure I have a thyroid issue and that I'm bulimic. But all that doesn't matter because he _loves_ me."

Lifting his thick brows, Roman said, "He knows I'm dead?"

"Yep. So you should feel really relieved that I didn't blow your cover." Alisha's voice rose, becoming increasingly strident. "So, Sin has no fuckin' clue I'm a vampire who has to fight the urge to bite his luscious meaty neck every time I'm around him!"

Roman shifted on the sofa to take his sister's hands. "Alisha, you know you can't go with him."

"I know!" Tears that Roman hadn't realized were on the verge of spilling rolled along the curve of his sister's cheeks. "I know that!"

"Alisha..."

"I broke up with him!" Alisha sobbed. "I broke up with him!"

Roman closed his eyes, unable to see the pain in hers. "I'm so sorry."

"I love him, Roman. I do!"

"I know."

"You might hate him, but I love him and I can't be with him."

To Roman's surprise, his sister curled up beside him, her head resting on his shoulder. Gently, he embraced her, trying to comfort her. Their relationship was difficult. Not only were they siblings, but their age difference also imbued their relationship with a father/daughter dynamic. It had been a long time since his sister needed him in a fatherly role, but it was obvious she did now.

"Alisha, I am sorry. It hurts me to know you're in pain," he said in a tender tone.

Sobbing, his sister pressed her hand to her lips.

"If I could find a way to spare you from this, I would."

"I know! I know!" Alisha wailed. "I want to be mad at you because you told me this would happen, but I can't be, you know, _because_ you were right. It was stupid of me to get involved with a mortal."

Roman sighed, not answering, his hand gently rubbing her arm.

"A part of me was dying to run off with him. I felt a little crazy. It was like a piece of my brain was still mortal and I could even imagine it all working out wonderfully. And then there was the other part of my brain that told me I was getting hungry and that Sin would be a great meal!" Alisha wiped at her face with the cuff of her long-sleeved t-shirt. "I was such a moron to think I could have a real life."

"Alisha, don't say that."

"What hope is there, Roman? I mean, really?"

The question bothered Roman. It was one he had asked himself when he had made the choice to not contact Norma after his resurrection. Even though he was now surrounded by vampires, there was a part of him that yearned for love. He would do anything for his sisters and he had sacrificed a lot to raise both of them instead of establishing a family of his own. Now that he was faced with immortality, he yearned to connect with someone. He couldn't fault Alisha for desiring the same.

"There's hope because we're not alone," Roman said at last. "There are others like us and maybe one day we will both find someone among our own kind."

Alisha sniffled loudly.

"Which is probably what you don't want to hear."

"Not really," Alisha admitted. "If this hadn't happened to us, he would have been my forever, Roman."

Gently brushing her hair with his fingers, Roman sighed. "I know. I felt the same way about Norma."

"And I had this insane idea, for just an instant, that I should turn him into what I am. But I can't risk it. I know how much he loves his life. I used to love the way I could smell the sun on him after he'd been working all day on his artwork out on his patio." She gestured toward the wine glass stained with the remains of the wine-blood mix. "I would never wish this on anyone."

"You're not a selfish person," Roman agreed. "You have a giving heart. You always have."

"Sometimes it's so hard living this way. The hunger...the madness...it's always there in the back of my head wanting out."

"I know, Alisha." Roman wished he could soothe her broken heart, but knew he couldn't. A lecture lingered on the tip of his tongue, but he swallowed it down. She didn't need his advice on how to pick up the pieces of her shattered heart and focus on her career. She didn't need him to tell her that she should concentrate on being a surrogate mother to Vanora during the last year of her childhood. He had learned long ago that his natural inclination to solve his sisters' problems was not appreciated. It was best to just hold them and listen to their woes. Later, he could stealthily help them out without bringing down their ire.

"If I didn't have you and Snow Pea," Alisha said, "I would walk into the sun. You know that, right? I couldn't do this alone. You're what keeps me grounded and feeling safe. I'm just like the rest of your fan club."

That brought a slow grin to Roman's lips. "Does that mean you'll listen to your dear older brother?"

Alisha snorted, her sobbing and laughter working against each other. "When it suits me."

Roman wiped her tears away carefully with the edge of his shirt. With her blond hair in messy waves around her face and her eyes swollen, she looked quite pathetic. Frozen eternally at twenty-two, she still had a softness to her face that sometimes made her look like the annoying little sister he had used to pick on without mercy.

"Alisha, I'm here for you. I will always be here for you. I promise it."

Rubbing her nose, Alisha nodded. "I know, Roman. As much as I sometimes resent your bossiness, in the end, I know you're the best big brother a girl could want."

"We'll make it through this. I promise."

Alisha curled into his side, resting her head on his shoulder. "I'm just going to miss him so much."

"I know, Alisha," Roman whispered, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "I know."

# 29

**_March 2007_**

The banging on the door did not relent no matter how long he ignored the noise. Finally, Armando abandoned his desk to find Carlotta on his doorstep garbed in a short, sassy black and red outfit. It reminded him of a Flamenco dress.

"I'm working on my new novel," he said shortly. "Lose yourself."

Carlotta laughed and shoved the disheveled writer aside. "It is only three in the morning. The sun won't be up for such a long time." Singing to herself in Spanish, she sashayed across the floor toward Armando's computer.

"I don't think you want to--"

She bent over to peer at the screen. "A book about South America." Carlotta curled her lip in disgust. "Why do you always waste yourself writing about the bastard children of Spain?"

"I'm writing about the Spanish colonization of South America and comparing its influence to that of other countries. People of South and Central America are just as diverse in their bloodlines as Americans," Armando responded wearily. Taking hold of her arm, he pulled her away from his computer. He didn't want her fouling up his hard work.

"Americans are the bastard children of the entire world. So what?" Carlotta responded. "Why don't you write about the gypsies? My great people the gitanos!"

Armando smirked in response as he moved her away from his computer. "You know when I was mortal, the gitanos were considered trash."

Carlotta's face darkened with anger. "You high-brow Spanish aristocratic pig, whose genes are so inbred you're lucky your genitals aren't growing out of your forehead, how dare you attempt to put down my great family!"

"My genitals are in the right place, as you well know," Armando responded with a sarcastic smile.

Carlotta yanked her arm out of his grasp and danced away from him. She purposely kicked off her high heels in his direction. Armando caught them and tossed them over his shoulder.

"You're lucky I'm in a good mood," Carlotta asserted

"You are?"

Carlotta picked up a vase and hurled it across the room at him. "Yes!"

Armando ducked. The vase exploded against the wall. He glanced over at the fragments, then at her. "Please forgive me for misreading my dear lady's mood."

Carlotta scoffed at him and began to yank hairpins from her chignon.

"Do you want anything to drink?" Armando asked as he wandered into his kitchen.

"No, I drank enough tonight. Two lovely French exchange students. I'm going to enjoy having them around for a while."

Armando whirled about. "You brought them home?"

Carlotta smirked, her fingers playfully tracing her full bottom lip. "You know that I have others besides you."

"I've never been to your house. I don't know who you have stashed in there." Armando shrugged. He felt a slight pang of jealousy but ignored it. "I assumed you had others."

Carlotta just smiled coyly. "And you don't?"

Armando again shrugged. "Why don't you ever let me go to your home, Carlotta?" For as long as he'd known her, Carlotta was secretive about her haven. It was a point of contention in their relationship. Annoyed with her intrusion, he felt like needling her about her staunch refusal to allow him to intrude on her closely guarded home.

Silky tendrils of dark hair clung to her neck as she paused in taking down her updo. "Are you jealous? Do you just adore me, my darling? Am I your one and only?"

"You didn't answer my question."

"I know I'm irresistible." She batted her long, thick eyelashes.

"You are avoiding answering my question." Armando glowered.

Carlotta prowled seductively toward him, a dangerous glint in her dark eyes. "You lust me, I lust you. This is all we have together, no more. Who or what is in my house is _my_ business. You may like spending your time with weak, pale women who gorge themselves on animal blood, but I am a true vampire! I drink the blood of those beneath me. I will bring over who I wish!"

Armando scoffed at her, pouring himself a drink of wine mixed with cow's blood.

Carlotta continued, her voice thick with disdain. "I am not some stupid, lost, bastard following blindly after a vampire who has no idea of the great legacy of our vampire history! If your wonderful Roman Socoli ever met me, he would soon discover what it truly means to be a vampire!" Carlotta hissed at Armando, revealing her long fangs, pale and white next to her blood red lips.

"You have no idea what he is like," Armando said crossly. "None at all."

With a wild laugh, she lounged back against his kitchen counter, her hips thrust provocatively toward him, her breasts heaving. "Oh, how defensive you get over your pathetic little friend. Have you fallen in line with his pathetic laws?"

"You know the Master wishes for me to be among them!" Armando clenched his fist at his side. "I did not choose to go to Roman. I was ordered."

Cocking her head, she tittered with delight. "You like him though. Admit it."

Gulping down the cold mixture in his glass, Armando tried to bring his temper under control. Carlotta was deliberately riling him, and he knew it. Yet, it was difficult not to engage in a battle of words. "I respect Roman because he is a man who will not be deterred by his vampire nature from doing what he feels is right. You don't understand what he believes. You won't even read his works. Do you realize that since the original fifty-two found him, nearly thirty more vampires have actively sought him out? The few books that escaped the incinerator are being duplicated and spread about the ranks of those vampires who serve no Master and have no sense of our history. Roman is the Master they chose!"

Carlotta snorted with contempt.

"Carlotta, they chose him! Do you even understand how powerful that one act actually is? We didn't choose our Master! He made us, claimed us as his own, and we do his bidding. Roman's vampires are free! They can do as they please with no fear of punishment."

"Until our Master comes and teaches them that they are nothing more than vampire bastards!" Her long fangs flashed behind her red lips as she laughed. "They are like children!"

"They're creating their own rules and shaping their own lives. Wouldn't you like the same? The ability to live free of our Master's wrath? To have true freedom?" Armando shocked himself with the treachery of his own words. "That is the allure of Roman to these lost vampires."

"But not to you?"

"I know who my Master is."

Finely sculpted brows lowering over her dark eyes, Carlotta said, "Shall I tell our Master your words? I'm sure he would find them to be quite interesting. He might even come earlier to wipe away that blemish of a false leader you so adore if he feels he is losing you to Roman."

Armando turned away, startled at the depth of devotion he unexpectedly felt toward Roman. "Why bring down his wrath on Roman? His fate is already sealed."

"Roman doesn't know who he is beneath the veneer of his lies." Carlotta drew close to Armando. "I know who I am."

Armando tossed a dark look in her direction. "And I don't?"

Brushing past him, she yanked open the refrigerator. "You're weakening yourself on the blood of animals!" She pointed at the jars containing the thick blood with disgust.

"I have to drink it. To hide my true purpose in their lives," Armando retorted. "If I drank human blood, they would be able to feel it, see it."

Licking her lips, Carlotta pondered his words. "Perhaps. Or maybe you have lost sight of who you truly are."

Armando hissed, closing in on her. "I know who and what I am."

"You are not who you used to be!"

Armando was becoming increasingly angry. "I am Armando De Leon!"

"You are the lover of bastards and weaklings!" Carlotta sneered. "You have forgotten our Master! You have forgotten who we are! You have forgotten what you were sent here to do!"

Armando grasped hold of Carlotta's arms and shook her. "I can never forget what I am!"

"Prove it." Tilting back her head, she gave him a defiant look.

"I don't have to prove myself to you!"

"Yes, you do!"

Armando flung up his hands with disgust. Their conversation was treading onto dangerous ground. Armando was well-aware that she would report him to their Master as a traitor if she believed for a moment he truly was a follower of Roman. He was furious with her for interrupting his writing time and angry with himself for letting her enrage him. "Get out! You vile, repulsive-"

Carlotta cut him off, pressing her lips firmly against him. The hatred he had felt for her exploded into passion. Armando lost himself in his desire for her, forgetting her cold words in a blaze of searing heat. Her laughter ringing in his ears, he sank his sharp teeth into her supple throat.

* * *

An hour later, Armando lounged in his bed and watched Carlotta carefully untangle her long hair and combed it out.

"You did it again." The anger and frustration he had felt earlier had dissipated in the heat of their lovemaking and the drawing of blood.

Carlotta glanced over her shoulder at him, her lips smiling. "Anger and passion, love and hate: there is always a fine line."

Armando sat up, the satin sheets pooling around his thighs. Taking the comb from her, he began to draw it through her long, glistening black hair. Sighing with contentment, Carlotta relaxed her bare shoulders, enjoying his ministrations.

"So tell me, Armando, what do you find with Roman and his people that you don't find with me?"

"Logical conversations."

Carlotta playfully hit him. "We are both passionate people. We fight so much, but then we make up."

"Which I enjoy so much," Armando whispered in her ear, then kissed her neck.

Purring with contentment, Carlotta fell back against his chest, snuggling against him. "So do I."

Armando lightly stroked her arm, kissing her neck. She was still warm from her earlier feeding. When he had imbibed from her throat, the blood she had drunk had also infused him. The gnawing hunger he had felt for months for human blood was sated. He detested how he had to virtually starve himself to Roman's Laws in order to keep up his farce. It felt wonderful to be renewed and fully empowered once more, but he would have to avoid visiting with Roman for a few nights until he was once more in a weakened state.

Carlotta nuzzled his cheek. "Truthfully, Armando, the vampires who follow Roman do intrigue me. They're so normal. No, no, that's not right. They _want_ to be normal. I don't understand this."

Armando exhaled and set the comb aside. Enfolding her in his arms, he rested his chin against her shoulder. "They want desperately to be part of something beyond the hunger, beyond all the death. They desire to change their lives into a more positive existence. They draw together, like a family, but one made of choice."

"Unlike us. Foisted together by our common Master," Carlotta said, her voice strangely devoid of her usual mocking tone.

"Roman is their mentor, their teacher, their father. I am probably his closest friend but I, too, feel the charismatic power of his presence."

Carlotta considered this. "You mean he's not like-"

"No. Never."

Carlotta tilted back her head so she could gaze into Armando's eyes. "I want to meet him."

Armando shook his head. "No. Absolutely not."

"It would be fun to fool them into believing I was like them." With a wicked grin, she twisted about in his grip, straddling him. "I could pretend to be a desperate vampire in need of guidance."

Armando did not like the idea of Carlotta being anywhere near Roman or Roman's sisters. "Carlotta, no. Absolutely not."

"You of all people, Armando, should know to never to tell me no. What harm can I do? You're the one who pretends to be their friend and yet you don't tell them of the vampire wars, the vampire lords, the vampire king's death, the purges, or how their bastard existence is of no consequence to the true vampires."

" _He_ doesn't want them to know. You know that." Armando thrust her away, annoyed. "This is not a game, Carlotta."

"Armando, all you do is play games! Why won't you let me play? Or do you really care about them?" Carlotta's eyes narrowed. "Is that it? Do you care for them? Or is it just amusing for you to watch them flounder about in the dark not truly realizing who they really are?"

"I'm obeying our Master, yet I don't believe Roman or his vampires are truly a threat to him. When he comes here, he can claim what is his, but I hope to have him spare Roman and the others. I take all of this quite seriously," Armando replied in a low voice.

"Ah...really? When our Master destroyed the vampire king and the purges began, who helped the Master destroy the rogue vampires plaguing Europe? There's no difference between Roman's vampires and the rogue vampires? Why care about Roman and his bastards?"

Armando growled, frustrated.

"So, maybe you do really care about Roman and his little bastards. Maybe you believe they are not a threat. But those words are traitorous, and you know it!"

"I do my Masters bidding, Carlotta. Every night I have done exactly what he has told me to do."

Carlotta's slender fingers curled around his wrist, dragging his attention back to her. "I just worry about you, Armando. You don't even seem to realize that what you are saying is heresy in the eyes of our Master. We are his children: he is our Master. In the end, you belong to him just as much as I do. You may speak the words of a traitor, but his blood is in our veins and we will always be his. If you continue to speak of betrayal and he finds out, he'll destroy you."

Armando twisted out of her grip, hunching over, burying his face in his hands. Her words made terrible sense. Perhaps he was compromising himself. He was surprised to realize how defensive he felt in the wake of her attacks on Roman and his vampires. "I have not seen _him_ for so long. I sometimes forget his face."

"He hasn't forgotten yours. When he does come, he will destroy Roman and Roman's vampires and take what is his." Carlotta wrapped her arms around Armando, her sharp little teeth moving threateningly against his throat. "You will remember who you are when he returns. For now, play with your little group of children. Play with them while they are young and foolish with new ideas. Enjoy yourself until that time when our Master returns to claim what is his. But never forget who you truly are and why you are there."

Armando could feel Carlotta's cold arms around him and her soft lips against his throat, but his thoughts were not on her actions, but her words. His loyalty lay with his Master. That he was certain of, but she was right. He would have to be careful not to be lured by the rhetoric of the vampire he'd started to consider a friend. When the Master arrived, Armando knew Roman's days would come to an end.

# 30

**_April 2007_**

Vanora's seventeenth birthday was the single most exhausting celebration in her short life. Everyone wanted to be a part of it. Since the big event fell on a Monday, Uncle Nicolau and Aunt Crystal arrived with their two eldest kids, Viktor and Felicia, to take Vanora to Galveston Island for the weekend. Since her uncle and aunt knew about Roman and Alisha, but her cousins did not, Alisha had to beg off from joining them by claiming she had too much work to do before her next showing. The weekend was filled with shopping, dining out, laughter and time spent at the beach.

On Saturday, Vanora reclined on her folding chaise lounge in a long, black, gauzy caftan while she huddled under a wide-brimmed hat and beach umbrella with her aunt. Vanora loved the sound of the ocean, the smell of the salt water, and the cries of the seagulls, but she was painfully aware of the sun shining brightly down on the sand. Her cousins splashed in the waves nearby, shouting and laughing as they played some form of football with an oversized beach ball. She found her uncle's pale and overly hairy chest a bit embarrassing. Though he had a bit of a gut, he had no shame in his Speedo. Crystal liked to joke it was a European thing. It was hard not to envy Viktor and Felicia frolicking with their father in the surf. Vanora's mental image of her father always blurred with that of Roman. She missed her brother and sister, but it was nice to be out with the extended part of her family.

Wearing prescription sunglasses (that she hated wearing), she flipped through fashion magazines while her aunt sipped margaritas and watched her husband and kids. Aunt Crystal had decided to go _natural_ again in the last year and her soft afro was twisted into spirals around her head. Vanora loved the soft feel of the cloud of hair but refrained from running her fingers over it like she had when a child. She was sure her aunt would not appreciate it. Vanora couldn't remember her mother's face or the feel of her embrace anymore, but her Aunt Crystal's warm smiles, tight hugs, and laughter filled a tiny bit of the void left inside of her by her mother's death.

"You have to have a crush on someone," her aunt teased, picking up a familiar conversation thread with her niece.

"Uh, Ryan Gosling," Vanora answered studying a model made up to look albino in a fashion spread. She noted the eyes were wrong.

"I mean at school." Her aunt side-eyed her, a playful smile on her lips.

"Nope. The boys at school suck!" Vanora flipped another page.

"But you're so beautiful! There must be one nice guy after you."

Vanora's cousin, Felicia, always had a boyfriend, so her aunt was mystified by the fact that Vanora never did.

"Not one," Vanora answered. She hoped her aunt would drop the subject soon.

"So a nice boy has never asked you out?" Aunt Crystal regarded her with great skepticism.

"Nope, a nice boy has never asked me out."

Vanora didn't feel like explaining that the last boy to ask her out had done so to be cruel. A group of the popular boys had decided to prank the 'ugly girls' in their class. Each boy picked one girl that was deemed undesirable – usually a girl with an obvious crush on the guy – and asked her out on a date. If the girl answered yes, she was given a mocking response before the guy returned to his friends, who howled with laughter. During lunch, Vanora had been approached by the most popular, good-looking boy in the entire school. He'd asked her out, playing it shy and sweet, but she had been bullied by him all her school career and promptly told him no, even though she was unaware of what they'd been doing. Embarrassed by her response and his friends mocking him, he'd been especially cruel. She hated that his words had stung.

"I don't get it," her aunt said, frowning slightly. "You're one of the prettiest, sweetest girls I know, even if you do like those terrible horror movies."

Vanora shrugged. "It's an albino thing."

"Ridiculous," Crystal declared.

"Maybe. But they love hurling insults at me for being albino."

"People are stupid," Crystal groused and sipped her margarita.

Felicia ran up to them, long-limbed, and stunningly beautiful. She'd been asked to model on more than on occasion but turned down all offers. She was a freshman in college and intended to become an engineer. Though she was dark-eyed and golden-skinned, she resembled Alisha slightly. The Socoli family likeness was definitely mixed in with her mother's features. Viktor looked more like his mother, but he had Roman and Nicolau's heavily-fringed, brooding eyes.

Flopping down onto the hot sand next to Vanora's beach chair, Felicia grinned. "So many fine men out here today."

"And hairy Romanians," Crystal said, winking.

"Gawd! Dad is so embarrassing!" Felicia groaned.

Uncle Nicolau and Viktor continued to play ball nearby. Vanora giggled watching her uncle with a mixture of horror and amusement. He looked like an older version of Roman, and it pained Vanora to know that Roman would never play with his son on the beach.

"Your cousin claims that she doesn't have a boyfriend or any crushes," Crystal said. "We have to change that when she comes to Austin, right, Felicia?"

Felicia gave Vanora a surprised look. "What about that Armando guy? Isn't he still around?"

Vanora widened her eyes at her cousin. "Shut up!"

"Armando?" Aunt Crystal's eyes brightened. "Who is Armando?"

"Some writer friend of Alisha's that Vanora is all about," Felicia said, ratting her out completely. "She says he's totally hot and European."

The spark went out of Crystal's eyes. Vanora sensed she had figured out that Armando wasn't just a friend of Alisha's. "Oh, then he's way too old for you, Vanora. Way too _old_."

Vanora pulled the brim of her hat down over her eyes. "I don't like him! I don't like anyone!"

"Lies! You can't stop texting about him! Plus, Mom, she's seventeen and legal in the state of Texas! Older men are yummy!"

Aunt Crystal leaned over the armrest of her beach chair. "Oh, no. You stay away from those _much older_ men. You come to Austin and find yourself a decent guy in your own age group."

"Ugh, I hate my family!" Vanora cried out. "You're all evil!"

"You like me!" Felicia grabbed Vanora's hand and yanked her to her feet. "C'mon, let's go play in the water."

"Don't you help her escape!" Aunt Crystal smacked at them with her magazine. "I'm not done lecturing her!"

Vanora tossed her magazine at her aunt and ran across the sand with her cousin while holding her hat onto her head. Laughing, they plunged into the surf.

* * *

Vanora was fairly sure if she ate one more piece of fried shrimp or one more hushpuppy she would explode, yet her fingers betrayed her stomach and reached for more of the food piled in the center of the table.

They were at her uncle's favorite seafood restaurant enjoying the good food and the refreshingly cool night air wafting in through the doors that opened onto the deck overlooking the bay. Tucked into a booth, Vanora and Felicia bookended the semi-circle with Crystal sitting beside Vanora and Viktor beside his sister. Uncle Nicolau sat in the center, hemmed in by his family. They were all in good spirits and laughing uproariously as Uncle Nicolau told one of his notoriously tall tales.

Sipping more sweet tea, Vanora eyed the shrimp on her plate. It was too good not to eat, but her tummy was bulging. Being a slight girl, it was easy for her to get a "food baby" if she ate too much. Dropping her hand to her puffed out belly, she suddenly felt intensely morose. She couldn't explain why, but she was filled with unexpected grief.

"No, no, really. It happened just like that," Uncle Nicolau protested.

"Lies, all lies!" Viktor declared.

"Are you accusing me of lying?" Vanora's uncle pretended to be insulted.

"Oh, yeah. You're a total liar! You're the one who told me that stars were God's dandruff." Viktor answered. "That went over really well in science class."

"That was kindergarten!" Uncle Nicolau grinned.

"I keep a ledger in my head of all the stuff you do! You're paying for my therapy!" Viktor grinned and munched on a hushpuppy.

"This is the classic younger male angling to dethrone the aging male of the pack," Felicia said with a smirk.

"He's eighteen! I'm a young fifty years! I'll take him down with one arm tied behind my back!"

Aunt Crystal rolled her eyes and nudged Vanora. "They never grow up."

Vanora forced a smile despite the despair filling her. It was without reason and a complete contrast to the joyful atmosphere around her. A dark miasma of pain and fear filled her chest, pushing into her thoughts, driving her to near sudden tears.

"I don't get it," a voice said.

Vanora looked up to see a handsome young man with deeply tanned skin and raven black hair staring at her. Clad in Bermuda shorts and a souvenir t-shirt, he was obviously a tourist. A very drunk tourist. He swayed back and forth as his blue eyes skimmed over the Socoli family. With a bemused look on his face, he said again, "I don't get it."

"Can I help you, sir?" Aunt Crystal said flipping on her professional tone.

"Yeah. Yeah." The young man ran a hand through his thick hair. "I get some of it. We have espresso right here." He pointed to Crystal.

"Excuse me!" Vanora's aunt exclaimed.

"And latte right over there," the man continued, ignoring Crystal and pointing to Nicolau. "So that explains the cappuccinos."

"Did you just call me coffee?" Felicia growled.

Viktor grabbed his sister's arm before she could shoot out of the booth. "He's drunk and stupid."

Continuing to ignore the family, the drunk man pointed at Vanora. "But how did we end up with sweet cream right here?" He leaned over and stared at her face. "Your eyes are so weird. What color are your nips and pussy?"

"We're taking this outside!" Nicolau roared and tried to climb over his son to get out from behind the booth.

Vanora felt the dark, nasty haze filling her go utterly black, hard, and cold. "Go away." A sharp pain right below her heart sliced through her and it felt as if cold, yet molten metal exploded out of her.

The man's eyes widened, he staggered back, and then fell flat on his ass. Out of the crowd of people gathered around the bar, two men came to claim their friend. Laughing at his antics, they tugged him away by his arms, dragging him so his bare heels scraped on the floor and he nearly lost his sandals. The drunk stared at Vanora in horror.

Breathing heavily, Vanora pressed her hands to her thighs, her head down. She felt empty and realized the mass of dark energy that had infected her was gone.

"It's okay, sweetie. It's okay," Crystal said, her arm settling around Vanora's shoulders. She pressed a kiss to her temple.

"Let me out, Viktor! I'm going to go kick his ass!" Uncle Nicolau kept trying to get past Viktor, who kept pushing him back into his seat.

"Dad, keep it cool!"

"He's not worth it, Dad," Felicia agreed.

"He insulted my family!"

"It's Vanora's birthday. Do you really want her to remember her seventeenth birthday as the one where we had to go to the jail to bail out her uncle?" Crystal pinned her husband with a glower. "Now, back your ass into your seat and calm your Socoli temper down."

Nicolau slammed his hand down on the table, frowned, but relented. "Fine."

"Now. Let's change the subject and ignore the stupid ass drunk boys," Crystal continued. "So, someone offer up a topic."

Viktor gave his sister a slow, evil grin. "How about Felicia's new boyfriend from Mexico?"

"New boyfriend?" Nicolau sputtered.

"Snitch." Felicia poked her brother hard in the ribs.

"Okay, details on this new boy," Crystal ordered before downing the rest of her margarita.

"His name is Juan Carlos, he's blond with blue eyes and he's from Mexico City," Viktor answered. "His family is uber-rich."

"Who's boyfriend are we talking about?" Felicia said crossly. "Yours or mine?"

Viktor rolled his eyes. "If I was gay, I could do so much better than that mouth-breather."

Vanora tried not to reveal how sick she felt and plastered a big smile on her face as she listened to her cousins arguing. Uncle Nicolau was still angry, but he was slowly calming down as his wife stroked his hairy forearm affectionately. Watching them, Vanora envied their love. Married for over twenty-five years, they were still madly in love with each other and best friends. Vanora wondered if it was possible for her to ever experience something so wonderful. It was embarrassing to have reached her seventeenth birthday without ever having a date or having even been kissed.

A whiff of familiar cologne caught her attention and she craned her head to scan the busy restaurant. The doors to the deck were wide open and she barely glimpsed a man slipping into the shadows. The profile had been familiar and she felt her heartbeat speed up.

Armando!

But why would he be here?

Watching the doorway, she waited to see if he would reappear. Her earlier despair was forgotten as her heart soared at the thought of Armando being nearby. Maybe she could speak to him alone. It had been months since their last private conversation.

Sadly, Armando did not reappear and by the time the Socolis departed the restaurant. Vanora wondered if he had even been there at all.

# 31

When Uncle Nicolau's SUV finally pulled up to the Socoli Mansion in Houston early Sunday evening, the sun had just set below the horizon. He was always careful to arrive after sunset to allow Alisha time to prepare for company. He had even called ahead so that Alisha and Roman wouldn't be caught by surprise. Vanora sometimes wished that her cousins knew about the vampires, but understood the need for secrecy.

On the way home she had dozed, her head on Felicia's shoulder. She adored her cousin but sometimes felt a little guilty that she could share experiences with her that she couldn't share with Alisha. As she grew older, she was increasingly aware of the divide that rested between her siblings and the rest of the world.

Alisha greeted them at the door. She was wearing her painting smock, giving the impression she had been working all day on her latest artistic endeavor. The usual round of hugs was followed by Uncle Nicolau declaring he had to go to the bathroom, but Vanora knew he was really sneaking off to greet Roman. In his absence, the family chatted, laughter echoing in the grand foyer of the house.

"You have to come to the ranch in Bandera," Felicia insisted, one arm slung over Alisha's shoulders. "It's so cool! Uncle Keith always does this epic barbecue that will just blow you away!"

Alisha sighed. "I wish I could! I just agreed to a new showing in Amsterdam!"

"No! Alisha!" Viktor scowled. "You're always working!"

"I know! It's awful," Alisha admitted.

Vanora loved the big sprawling ranch Crystal's brother owned. After the Civil War, her family had traveled to Texas to be cowboys. They'd only had one horse to start with, but after years of hard work, the family had built a large working ranch. It had remained in the family over the years. Crystal's brother, who always told Vanora to call him Uncle Keith, was the ultimate cowboy.

"We're going in June, so you have to hurry up and finish before then," Felicia insisted.

"I'll try," Alisha lied.

"Promise?" Viktor asked, his thick eyelashes fluttering at her.

Alisha nodded. "Of course."

Crystal stood just behind her children and her expression was shadowed with sadness. There were so many lies in the family, Vanora thought. How could it possibly be good for any of them?

"Okay! Ready! Let's go! We have a three-hour drive back home!" Uncle Nicolau said, hurrying to rejoin them.

"What were you doing? That was like twenty minutes," Viktor teased.

"I'm a man. I have man-sized shits!"

Everyone groaned, which made Uncle Nicolau grin.

Another round of hugs, more kisses, more promises to see each other soon, then they were all gone.

Once the door shut, Alisha turned around, her eyes slightly widened. "Did you have an amazing weekend or what?"

"It was fun," Vanora admitted.

"Tell me everything!" Alisha grabbed her hand, dragging her toward the family room.

Vanora noticed how cold her sister's fingers felt against her wrist. Far different from the warmth of her aunt's touch.

* * *

Later that night, while brushing her long white-blond hair, Vanora watched her brother as he paced around her bedroom. He'd occasionally pick something up, not really looking at it, turning it in his hands, before depositing it back in the same spot he had picked it up from. Vanora listened to him prattle on but really didn't take in the words. She was more interested in observing him. Roman rarely looked so flustered. Alisha was in shorts and a tank top, slouched at the end of the bed, inserting a word or two into Roman's long discourse about Vanora moving to Austin and her first year at the University of Texas.

"So you're on target to graduate early in December of this year due to the credits you received from doing those extra courses in the summer, which is good, but it has brought up some issues. Are you sure you don't want to take summer classes and finish up early?"

"Rhonda and I want to graduate together," Vanora said, annoyed. Her only friend was also going to be moving to Austin and they had been planning their early graduation since their freshman year of high school.

Roman nodded somberly. "Very well. Your trust fund doesn't officially kick in until you're eighteen, but Alisha and I can move money around to pay for your first semester of college."

"Can it help me pay rent on an apartment?" Vanora asked hopefully.

Roman shook his head adamantly. "We discussed this previously. Living with your uncle and aunt is wise for this first year. You're still young, even though you're graduating high school."

Vanora scowled. She had hoped he would change his mind so she could get a place with Rhonda. Most likely Rhonda would live in a dorm the first year.

"It's good for you to be around your cousins, too. It will give you a more well-rounded life experience," Roman continued, obviously noting her displeasure.

"Did he just say life experience?" Vanora asked, raising an eyebrow.

Alisha nodded. "Yep. He's in full speech mode."

Roman ignored them. "Though Austin has a decent metro bus system, and has a lot more bike lanes than it had before, I'm not comfortable with someone so young traveling about using those modes of transportation."

Vanora rolled her eyes.

Alisha yawned.

"There are seedy characters in every city. Houston can be quite dangerous at times, but we live behind stone walls. Uncle Nicolau lives in a good part of Austin, but for you to get around town by bike or bus, you'll be traveling outside the parameters what I consider to be a safe area."

Vanora pretended to load a gun and shoot herself in the head. Alisha mimed picking it up and shooting herself, too. They both flopped over dramatically.

Roman ignored them. "I know you don't want to hear this, but you're still very young, Vanora, and you don't know how cruel the world can be."

"My brother and sister are vampires."

Alisha high-fived her.

Roman scowled.

Alisha rolled her eyes. "Just get to it, Roman!"

"Fine, Alisha! I'm trying to make her understand why we're going to give her a car."

"A car!" Vanora hurled herself off the bed and into Roman's arms. "A car! I'm getting a car!"

Roman grinned down at her, snuggling her against his chest. "An older model, but a reliable one."

"But a car! Just for me? In my name?"

"Well, Alisha will also be on the title, but, yes, it will be your car. I already have my eye on a few I saw online and Ryan will be checking them out for me."

"Can I go with him? Can I pick it out?" Vanora squealed, hopping up and down.

Roman laughed with delight. "Of course. I would go with you, but..."

Vanora saw the brief flicker of remorse in Roman's eyes, but she refused to let him feel sorry that he couldn't go with her to get her first vehicle. She grabbed him about the neck and pressed kisses to his scruffy cheek. "Thank you, thank you, thank you! You're the best dad ever!"

Vanora didn't know vampires could blush, but Roman did. His grin and the sparkle in his eyes were a lovely sight.

"Well, I'm your older brother technically."

"Brother slash father," Vanora corrected him. "You're so old and stuff. You could totally be my dad."

Roman rolled his eyes but was still pleased.

"Well, your sister slash mother wants some love, too!" Alisha protested.

Vanora flung herself into Alisha's arms, kissing her cheek. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

When her brother and sister finally left her bedroom, Vanora texted Rhonda with the news before sliding into bed. The full weekend and unexpected gift of a car had her high with excitement. The next evening, on her actual birthday, Roman and Alisha planned to drive to the far side of Houston to take her out to dinner and shopping. Roman was growing out a beard to disguise his appearance, though Vanora thought it was probably unnecessary. Alisha and Vanora had already decided to claim Roman was another uncle. The Socolis did tend to strongly resemble one another. People were more likely to believe Roman was a lookalike family member than a vampire.

Snuggling under her covers, Vanora closed her eyes and tried to sleep.

# 32

Though it was nearly midnight, Vanora still couldn't sleep. The next day was her true birthday and Alisha had offered to call the school to leave a message that Vanora wouldn't be in class, but Vanora had declined. With her siblings asleep, she'd just end up wasting the entire day sitting on the sofa in a mindless stupor watching the morning talk shows followed by unhealthy amounts of soap operas and reality TV on cable. Now she was reconsidering that decision. She was going to be exhausted in the morning if she didn't sleep soon. Yet a strange excitement filled her, keeping her vividly awake.

The weekend had been a strange mix of wonderful moments and growing unease. Though she'd been excited about turning seventeen, the closer her actual birthday loomed, the more unsettled she felt. It was if she were waiting for something terrible to happen. Or maybe something marvelous. She was unsure. The emotional mess inside her head made her feel a bit crazy. Lately, she'd become woefully aware of the great chasm between the life she would soon lead and that of her siblings. Guilt ate at her as she made plans to move away and attend the University of Texas. She'd be leaving Roman and Alisha behind in their perpetual dark world. After living within it with them for so long, she was anxious to find out what life among other mortals would actually be like.

Flopping over onto her back, she stared at the filmy white organza canopy hovering above the bed. The fabric was ghostly in the pale light emanating from the small angel nightlight she always had to have on while she slept. She couldn't stand to be in absolute darkness since the terrible night the disgusting old vampire had crept through her window.

Pulling her covers up to her neck, she tried not to think of the vampire who had destroyed their lives. The old toy chest had been banished to the attic long ago, but her eyes drifted to the spot where it had once sat.

A gentle rap on the window startled her.

Gasping, she sat up, clutching her covers to her neck.

Perched outside her window was a familiar figure. Dark hair and profile illuminated by the moon, Armando raised his hand to tap on the glass again. Sliding out of bed, Vanora waved at him, not wanting Roman or Alisha to hear. Excitement choking her, Vanora hurried to the window. Smoothing her hair back from her face and tugging down her pale pink tank top over her stomach, she resisted the urge to tug on the wedgie her pajama shorts were giving her.

Gritting her teeth, she opened the window slowly, trying desperately not to make any unnecessary noise. Roman was downstairs watching TV while Alisha painted in her studio. They most likely wouldn't hear the window opening, but the fact that Armando was perched outside her room in the middle of the night was rather scandalous. She wasn't even sure how to respond to his surprise appearance.

Armando flashed his wickedly handsome smile when she finished opening the window. The vampire was delicately balanced on the narrow windowsill. As always, he made even simple black jeans and a gray t-shirt seem elegant. The familiar scent of his cologne tickled her nose, and his curls shifted against his high brow as he slightly pivoted toward her.

"Happy birthday," he whispered.

Vanora glanced at her clock before drawing over the stool from her vanity so she could sit next to the window. "You're creepy."

Armando lifted an eyebrow.

"I was born at 12:45 AM in the morning."

Peering around her, Armando chuckled. "One minute late actually. So I assume I'm the first to wish you happy birthday on your _actual_ birthday."

Giggling, Vanora nodded. "Yes, you are. Is that why you're creeping outside my window?"

Armando smirked with amusement. "Creeping?"

"Yeah, creeping." Vanora couldn't help but smile at him shyly. "Is this a vampire thing? Hanging outside of girl's bedrooms?"

"Actually, yes. We wait until you're asleep then compel you to open the window so we can do terrible things. It's a tradition." Armando was clearly teasing her.

Vanora narrowed her eyes. "The whole 'I vant to zuck yer blood' thing, huh?"

Maybe it was her imagination, but for a moment, his expression was quite devilish as his gaze dipped downward briefly. She swiftly crossed her arms over her breasts.

"That and other...things."

"Are you flirting with me?" Vanora accused him playfully.

Armando promptly sobered, his smile vanishing. "Of course not! I'm just giving you a small history lesson on how terrible vampires can be."

Disappointed, Vanora felt her joy at seeing him deflate just a little.

"I'm actually here because your brother has banned all vampires from the house during your birthday. And since you were gone all weekend, I had to find a way to see you and wish you a happy birthday."

"You knew I was gone this weekend?"

"Roman told me you went to Galveston with your Uncle Nicolau and his family. Did you have a pleasant time?"

Vanora nodded slightly. "It was nice."

To her relief, he flashed his charming, alluring smile, wiping away the seriousness that had fallen over his features briefly. "I'm pleased. You deserve happiness."

The heat in her face was embarrassing, and Vanora tilted her head forward so her pale hair would hide her flushed cheeks. It was horrible how his mere smile could make her feel giddy and nervous all at once.

To her surprise and pleasure, Armando gently swept a lock of hair away from her face and tucked it behind her ear so he could see her face. Feeling more like a flustered fourteen-year-old than a maturing young woman of seventeen, Vanora swallowed and tried to keep her hands from trembling. She couldn't fathom why Armando felt it important to wish her a happy birthday. Her mind was spinning out a thousand crazy theories, but they all seemed far too fantastical to be the truth.

As though to answer her unspoken question, Armando said, "I brought you a gift." He reached into his pocket and extracted a small box wrapped expertly in pretty pink paper tied with a creamy satin bow. Gently, he rested the gift in her trembling hands. He briefly squeezed them, his skin cool against her fevered flesh. "I thought of you when I saw it."

Where he'd touched her hand, her skin felt like it was on fire. "You really didn't have to get me anything," Vanora said, her voice quivering slightly. She hated how his golden eyes reduced her insides to so much quivering goo. He was so much older than she was, worldly, sophisticated, intelligent, and very, very undead.

Armando shrugged slightly. "But I wanted to."

Carefully, Vanora pried the tape from the shiny paper lamenting her chipped pale pink manicure. Inside was a dark blue jewelry box. When she opened it, she instantly smiled. A silver charm bracelet was nestled against the black velvet. Tiny stars and the moon in all its phases dangled from an intricate chain. "Wow, it's beautiful."

"I thought it would look beautiful against your white skin," Armando answered.

"Why moons and stars?" Vanora looked up at him through her white lashes.

Glancing briefly at the moon, Armando looked quite thoughtful. At last, he said, "You're a moon goddess. All that's beautiful in the moon is reflected in your lovely hair and complexion. Even your lavender eyes remind me of the night."

"The writer in you is showing," Vanora teased, but she was deeply moved by his words. Tears pricked at her eyes.

"I felt inspired." His smile was a touch bittersweet.

Vanora rested her hand on his and returned his smile. In spite of her determination to keep it together, her fingers were still trembling. Her heart was thudding so hard in her chest, she was sure he could hear it. The glint of the moonlight in his dark wavy hair, the light scruff on his chin, and the strong swoop of his cheekbones transfixed her. She found herself staring at him and swiftly averted her gaze.

The tantalizing touch of his fingers against her chin drew her gaze up to his face. "So you like it, Vanora?"

"I love it," she said a tad breathlessly.

He grinned, dropping his hand. "I'm glad."

"Is it silver?" she asked, surprised.

"Yes, it is, so be careful when you wear it around vampires. It can leave a nasty burn."

Vanora lifted one eyebrow, her fingers tracing over the charms. "It's pretty _and_ a weapon."

"If it needs to be," Armando agreed.

"Not that any of the vampires I know would hurt me," Vanora said, but she felt strangely unsure suddenly if those words were true.

"But there are vampires you don't know," Armando reminded her.

An icy wave slid through her body, and she shivered.

"But your brother would never allow anyone to hurt you," Armando said. His voice sounded haunted somehow.

Vanora shifted so she could see his face clearer. Emotions she found hard to discern shifted his expression. "I'm sure you wouldn't either. We're friends after all."

Armando hesitated, then reached above him to draw something off the slope of the roof. It was a perfect red rose. Armando kept it away from his face as he handed it to her, obviously repulsed by the flower's perfume. "Another gift."

Startled, Vanora took it from him. Roses caused vampires great discomfort, so she was surprised by the gesture, especially considering sharp thorns still decorated the stem. "Thank you." She inhaled its fragrance, then swiveled on her stool to place it on her vanity along with the bracelet.

Armando's hand caught her arm, drawing her back about. "Vanora, you will wear the bracelet, won't you?"

"Of course! I love it! I'll wear it every day just like I wear my cross." Since her siblings had transformed, she wore the cross on a longer chain so that it was tucked between her breasts over her heart and not visible.

"I just sometimes worry," Armando said, his smile losing most of its mysterious allure. He actually did look very concerned. Slipping through the window, he sat next to her on the window ledge, his knee lightly brushing hers. She had never been so close to him before. Over the years, she had thought her crush on the Spanish vampire would fade. Tonight, her feelings for him no longer felt like childish infatuation. She felt far removed from the child she had been when she'd met him. Every part of her responded to his simple presence, from the throbbing between her legs to the pinch of her nipples, to her pounding heartbeat. Nothing felt the same between them anymore, and yet she feared she was the only one who felt the difference.

"Is something wrong?" Vanora finally dared to ask.

Lowering his lids so his dark lashes threw long shadows over his cheekbones in the light cast from the night light, Armando sat in silence for a few long, anxiety-inducing moments. "You'll be leaving soon. I wonder what will become of your siblings once you're gone. You mean the world to them. You are their reason for being as strong as they are in their convictions to not be mere monsters."

"They'll be fine. Like you. You aren't a monster."

Armando laughed softly, shaking his head. "Perhaps I am more a monster than you think I am."

Lifting a shoulder, Vanora said, "I don't believe it."

"Why not?"

"Because I feel it in here," Vanora answered, pressing her hand to her heart. "You're not a monster. I know you'd never hurt me." She hastily added, "Or anyone else."

"But I have," Armando said somberly. It was as if he couldn't bear to look at her anymore. Instead, he twisted on his perch and focused his attention on the moon above the trees.

Leaning toward him, Vanora poked him in the ribs. "Why so moody?"

"I just look at you, so young and innocent, and I dread those qualities being taken from you." His gaze swept over her from head to foot. "You're not a little girl anymore and life can be cruel. People can be cruel."

"I'm used to it." Vanora shrugged. She thought of the man at the restaurant just the other night.

"You shouldn't be used to it." Armando's voice held something dark and dangerous she had never heard before.

Then she felt it. Just like her emotions were sloshing about wildly inside of her mind, so were his. He was just as flummoxed as she was at this moment. Vanora felt it so keenly she knew it to be true. But what did it mean?

"It's the whole albino thing," she said, indicating her face and hair. "It gives people a case of the stupids."

"Why don't you wear your glasses?" Armando asked abruptly, surprising her.

"I don't need them." She rubbed her nose nervously. "I know that no one believes me. I'm supposedly blind, but I can see. Clearly. The doctor thinks I memorized the eye chart, or that I'm somehow cheating. Physically, my eyes are blind. But I can see. I can see you clearly."

"You watch the world through your other eye then," Armando said in awe. He pointed one finger at the center of her forehead.

"Yeah! Exactly! Alisha thinks I'm just trying to avoid wearing glasses because I look like a dork with them on, but I can see." It felt strange confiding something so personal to Armando.

"You're going to be powerful, you know," he said, a slight smile spreading on the curve of his lips. "You already _are_ powerful."

"You mean with the sixth sense?"

"I mean in every way."

The darkness around her was pulsing with a growing energy and Vanora was finding it harder to take a breath. Armando's stillness was disconcerting. She wished she could peer into his thoughts and know his mind. Suddenly, she was afraid of him, of herself, and the growing need she felt inside her.

"I have school," she said lamely.

"I should go," he said, sighing.

"Thank you for the gifts, Armando."

In an impulsive, crazed moment, Vanora leaned toward him to press a kiss to his cheek. Nervousness and lack of experience resulted in her aim being awkwardly off. Her lips brushed against the corner of his mouth.

The world swam around her, panic and embarrassment seizing her. Voiceless in her mortification, she ducked her head, drawing away. Armando's cool hand caught her chin, tilting her face back toward him. His amber eyes gleamed in the darkness with preternatural light as he gazed at her. An apology hovered on her lips, but she couldn't find her voice when he was staring at her in a strange, new way. As though mesmerized, Armando slanted his head downward and kissed her.

The first kiss was light, soft, and far too quick. Just the simple touch of lips and it was over. A part of her brain was screaming with delight that Armando had just kissed her while another part panicked with the implications. It wasn't her mind that controlled her next action, but her heart. Sliding her hands into his glossy dark hair, she pulled him close and pressed her lips to his.

In spite of the coldness of his lips, she was on fire. The chasteness of their first kiss was forgotten in the heat of their second. His lips were cold, soft and demanding, yet all she felt was the burning need for his caress. Fingertips grazing her waist just below her tank top, his touch left icy trails of pleasure. Then it was over, his hands pressing her back gently, her lips naked without his.

"Happy birthday, Vanora," he said, his voice a little rough.

Unconsciously, she reached for him, but he caught her hands. After kissing her palms, he slipped out the window, resuming his precarious stance on the windowsill.

"Armando," she breathed.

"You're not for me, Vanora," he whispered. "I am not for you."

Ashamed of her impulsiveness, she retreated from the window, her head down. "I'm sorry."

"No. I am."

The words held such terrible sadness, Vanora raised her gaze immediately to seek the truth in his golden eyes, but he was gone.

# 33

Armando landed on the other side of the wall and strode swiftly to his car. Pulling out his cellphone, he stared at the small, darkened screen with trepidation.

The lingering sensation of Vanora's warm lips was an unsettling reminder of his weakness. His role as her protector was one he had taken seriously for several years now, but tonight he had unexpectedly crossed a line. Though he had always thought of her as a lovely child, tonight he had seen her as a beautiful woman. That realization had been both startling and upsetting. It had been sheer audacity and stupidity to kiss the young woman.

Brushing the back of his hand over his mouth, he fought to regain his composure. Anger and frustration ate at him.

The phone rang in his hand and he immediately answered it.

"Did you give her the rose?" His Master's voice, deep, dark, and dangerous, instantly chilled him.

"Yes."

"Well done." The sound of sirens in the background and the laughter of the Master's primary enforcer were a tiny and eerie cacophony. "Acquire a photo of her soon. I wish to see her."

"I will as soon as I can. Roman doesn't allow me to have access to her. I took a risk delivering the rose tonight," Armando said, pacing beside of his car.

"Find a way. You say she's lovely. I want to _see_ her."

"I'll find a way."

"I know you will." Another pause. Someone screamed on the other side of the connection. "There. Russian vampires die so slowly. It's rather enjoyable."

"Master, she's leaving here by the end of the year."

"I have a war to fight and cannot be constantly monitoring your progress. Make sure she continues to trust you."

Leaning against his car, Armando sighed. "I understand."

"How is the construction of my haven coming along?"

"It will be ready when you arrive."

Another scream. Then a woman laughing.

"Armando, you are my favorite. I trust you more than any other. I have given you the most sacred of duties. The care of my future queen."

Closing his eyes, Armando nodded. "I understand."

"Do not fail me."

The call disconnected and Armando snapped his phone shut. Resting his arms on the hood of his car, he stared at the moon glowing through the hazy cloud cover. He had to harden his heart and strengthen his resolve. Though Vanora was blossoming into a beautiful woman, he could not allow himself to be drawn to her or care for her personally. She was his duty and he had to keep his focus on that reality.

Flipping his phone open, he made a quick call.

"What do you want?" Carlotta's voice demanded after several rings.

"You. Meet me at my apartment in thirty minutes," Armando said gruffly.

With a delightfully wicked laugh, Carlotta said, "Did your little girl get you all hot and bothered?"

"Don't make me hurt you," Armando growled.

"But I want you to," Carlotta said flirtatiously in response.

"Be there." It was not a request.

She hung up without saying a word, but he knew she would come to him.

Unlocking his car door, he forced himself to not look back at the mansion, nor the window where he had tasted the sweetest of lips.

* * *

_"I'm sorry, Vanora," the woman with the sea green eyes whispered. "The darkness is consuming everything around me and will soon drown me."_

_Vanora could barely discern the outline of a woman floating above the ivory organza of her canopy. Sitting up, she stretched out her hands, reaching up toward the shape. "Mommy!"_

_The fabric tore free from the bed frame and fell, covering Vanora. Abruptly, it transformed into foamy water. Gasping, Vanora felt herself dragged beneath the waves into the darkness below. Struggling, she fought to ascend, her hands dragging through the water. A white hand emerged from the darkness to grip hers, then Vanora was lifted through the churning waves. When she arrived at the surface, she coughed violently, trying to breathe again._

_To her shock, she saw her mother close to her, tawny curls flattened by the water and clinging to her pale face. On the banks of the river, a car was on fire. Within, Vanora saw a man thrashing about inside, trying to escape._

_"Daddy!"_

_"Vanora! Listen to me! I don't have much time. He's coming for me. He'll come for you."_

_"Mommy!" Vanora kicked at the water, trying to draw closer to her mother._

_"He's going to kill me, Vanora. He knows if I'm alive I'll protect you from him."_

_"We have to get away! We have to get out of the water!"_

_"It's too late," Carys whispered. "I'm already dying."_

_The firelight revealed red-tinged waves lapping around her mother's body. Blood trickled from the corner of her mouth, and Carys wiped it away. Just below the surface of the water, the hilt of a dagger bobbed and sparkled in the moonlight. It was thrust into her mother's chest._

_"Mommy, no. Please, no." Vanora wailed._

_Carys seized her daughter's shoulders and pulled her close. More blood spilled from the corners of her mouth and bubbled on her tongue when she spoke. "My power is your power. He claims you because of a prophecy, but I have seen my own vision of your future. The darkness will consume you, but you will always be a child of my light. Don't let his lies cloud your mind."_

_"She's over here!" A woman's voice called out of the night excitedly._

_Vanora looked up to see a slight young woman with blond hair racing along the banks._

_"You have to go now," her mother whispered. "You have to return to the world of dreams and leave me to my fate. Remember what I said. My power is your power."_

_Then her mother plunged Vanora's head beneath the waves and the darkness of the river swallowed her. Vanora fought the currents, trying to kick her way to the surface, but the tendrils of darkness dragged her deeper. Above her, she saw her mother's body silhouetted against the moon in the night sky. A dark shape flitted past the glowing orb, then her mother was violently wrenched out of the water._

_Screaming into the murky depths of the river, Vanora struggled to follow._

* * *

Waking, Vanora kicked at her bedclothes and flailed at the darkness filling her room before realizing she was no longer trapped in the river. Blind, Vanora struggled to see through the murk around her, then slowly her vision returned and she saw the angel nightlight on her vanity gently glowering. Sitting up, Vanora dragged deep breaths of air into her lungs.

"Just a dream," she whispered.

Trembling, Vanora hugged herself, pressing her forehead against her drawn up knees. She clung to the memory of her mother's voice and her beautiful eyes but was horrified by the dream itself. Her parents had died when their car had plunged off a suspension bridge over a river in East Texas and crashed into the banks below. It had burst into flames, killing both her parents.

Wiping her eyes, Vanora sniffled as she wept.

Her brain had to be playing tricks on her. Carys had died in the car with her father. She hadn't been thrown into the river or stabbed by an ornate dagger. Carys had burned to death in the arms of her husband.

Flopping over, Vanora clung to her pillow, which was soon damp with her tears. It had been a long time since she'd had a nightmare about the death of her parents, but it had never been so terrifyingly real. The dream clung to Vanora's mind like thorny vines. What if it was some sort of message from her mother? What if she was truly warning Vanora about danger? And if she was in danger, who was the man she was supposed to fear?

Vanora rolled onto her back and pressed the heels of her hands to her closed eyelids.

She was terrified she already knew the answer.

Maybe she was supposed to fear the man who had already stolen her heart.

_Armando._

# Part V

**_Present Day_**

_It was the hum of the car that drew Vanora out of her slumber. Her dreams weren't of HIM, much to her relief, but they had not been pleasant either. In the last one, she was standing on the lawn of the Socoli Mansion, watching great waves of darkness pouring out of the mausoleum. Frozen in place, she could only watch in horror as the surge rushed her and inky tendrils lifted from the miasma to wrap around her. She awakened just before she was entangled and dragged into the mausoleum to be claimed by the dead as one of their own._

_It was a sweet relief to escape the nightmare until she remembered she was on the road to Houston to hopefully save the life of her brother. To make matters even more stressful, Armando was driving her car. Lifting a trembling hand to her head, she winced at the painful thud behind her eyes. The interior of the car was a blur of darkness streaked with light. She lowered her eyelids and rubbed them with cold fingers._

_"Are you okay?" Armando asked._

_Opening her eyes again, she barely discerned his pale face in the murk that clouded her vision. Reluctantly, she reached into her purse and pulled out her glasses. Shoving them onto her face, her vision improved, but was still hazy._

_"Vanora?" Armando sounded worried._

_"I'm okay," she lied._

_"You're wearing your glasses." His tone was slightly accusatory._

_Shoving her trembling hands into her white-blond hair, Vanora rubbed her scalp. "I have nightmares, and sometimes afterward my vision is...off."_

_Armando's elegant fingers slid beneath the mantle of her hair and massaged her neck. His digits were so cold, they actually felt quite delicious against her aching muscles. Turning her face from him, she tried to ignore the way her heart sped up, fighting the urge to jerk away. Didn't he realize what his touch did to her?_

_"Did you just have another nightmare?"_

_She nodded._

_"About what?"_

_Did she sense fear in his voice? His fingers stilled against her flesh._

_"Darkness consuming me." She shivered at the memory._

_"I won't let that happen," he said at last. His voice was rough and grim._

_The cool press of his fingertips elicited terrible, desperate feelings of desire, but they also frightened her. He was so strong; she was so weak. He was a predator; her kind was his prey. Fear slithered through her and she pulled free of his grip. Pressing herself against the door, she folded her arms across her breasts. The soft exhalation of a sigh from the vampire surprised, thrilled, and frightened her. Armando was so very good at twisting her all about._

_"Armando, what aren't you telling me?"_

_As her car sped down the darkened highway, the vampire behind the wheel remained stoic and quiet. She let him fall into silence for just a half minute before she said loudly, "Well?"_

_"Tell me about your other dreams."_

_"They're not important," she answered crossly. She didn't want to talk about HIM. She didn't want to even consider that HE was real._

_"You're keeping something from me." Irritation flared in his tone and he glanced at her, golden eyes dangerously bright._

_Vanora smiled at him triumphantly. "Then I guess we're even."_

_"This isn't a game, Vanora. This world is very dangerous."_

_"I know that! Why do you think I ran away?" Anxiety shredded her calm and she clutched her hands together. The bracelet he had given her so long ago glinted in the pale illumination of the dashboard lights. "I know what you really are. What my brother and sister really are. Remember, I saw it!"_

_Armando slammed his hand against the steering wheel._

_"Armando, you can't be angry at me for being afraid of you! Of them! Of what they did! I thought you weren't like...like..." She resisted the urge to clutch his arm. A piece of her wanted to feel his touch again, to be consoled, but a much larger aspect of her was terrified of him._

_"Like the one who made Roman?" The vampire's laughter was cold and inhuman. "Vanora, we are monsters with human faces and human hearts. The worst sort of hell, don't you think?"_

_"What happened that night...what they did...it haunts me. Terrifies me." Vanora shuddered, pressing her hand to her forehead. Her vision swam and nausea gripped her. She didn't want to remember, but the truth was that she couldn't forget._

_"The hunger is a power so overwhelming it crushes us into slaves," Armando said in a voice that was both softer and remote._

_"And nothing can defeat it?" Vanora wiped a tear from her eyes._

_The touch of his hand on her cheek rendered her speechless. She desired to nestle into its soothing caress. Instead, she drew away._

_"No, Vanora. Not even love."_

# 34

**_July 2007_**

Vanora was bone weary and a little ragged from her long trip home from the ranch in Bandera. Uncle Nicolau had insisted on accompanying her to Houston, riding shotgun as she drove her new car home. Though she was physically blind, she had passed her driving test with flying colors. She was so adept on relying on her sixth sense that she could pass an eye exam. A new doctor had even declared that the prior diagnosis was inaccurate. Apprehensive about her abilities and her youth, her uncle had insisted on tagging along. She'd dropped him off at the airport before driving the last leg of her journey to the Socoli Mansion.

It was early evening when she arrived and the sun was just below the horizon, yet she knew her brother and sister were awake. After nearly a month and a half away, she could acutely feel their presence, her stomach fluttering slightly. The energy of the house whispered over her skin, darker than she remembered, yet she was very excited to be home with her family.

Summer vacation this year had been different from previous ones. At the insistence of her aunt and uncle, she had spent several weeks in Austin followed by a long stay at the Bandera ranch owned by Aunt Crystal's family. Vanora had spent long days lounging on the porch of the big ranch house, snuggled in the shade of the tall pecan trees reading novels and chatting with her extended family. Barbecues, horseback riding, and late afternoon dips in a nearby creek had rounded out her adventures. She'd been very cautious with her skin, making sure to always be covered, but she'd still had fun.

Now she was home and the imposing mansion was a welcome sight. Parking her car, she slid out of the driver's seat.

"Can I help you carry your luggage?"

Vanora started to a stop. Since their unexpected intimate moment on her birthday, she'd not spoken to Armando in private. The few times she'd seen him after their kiss, he was with her brother. The vampire had been cordial, but nothing more. Now he stood near the car with the night wind playing with his curls and an amused smile on his face. The mere sight of him made her body sing with pleasure and her cheeks blush.

"Sure," she said awkwardly.

Armando held out his arms, offering a welcoming hug. "It's good to see you. You were missed."

A month of late-night talks with Felicia over her deepening feelings with Armando and admonishments from her aunt rang in her ears. Armando had been right when he'd said she was not for him and he was not for her. They were separated not only by their natures but hundreds of years of life experience. It hurt her to realize that she was probably a mild form of entertainment in his eyes, so she ignored his offered hug. Unlocking the trunk of her small sedan, she tugged out a suitcase and handed it to him.

"Did you have a good time in Bandera?"

"It was a lot of fun. I learned how to ride a horse, shoot a gun, and how to use a hunting bow." She kept her voice clipped and unemotional, or at least she hoped she did.

Armando grinned with delight. "My, my, you are becoming a force to reckon with."

"Are you teasing me?" She arched an eyebrow.

"No, no. I'm serious. And you drove all the way home alone. That's impressive."

Vanora narrowed her eyes at Armando. It was difficult to discern if he was having a bit of fun with her or being genuine. "Uh huh." She handed him another bag.

"I did miss you." A touch of seriousness infected his smile, his eyes sobering.

Vanora pulled her makeup case and overnight bag from the trunk, slamming it shut with her elbow. "What do you want, Armando?"

Armando blinked, then let out a startled laughed. "Excuse me?"

Too tired to feel anything other than cranky, Vanora stepped toward him. "Uh, you kissed me on my birthday, then hardly talked to me before I left for my summer vacation, and then when I return you're like what...my new best friend?"

"Ah, the kiss..." Armando said rather dramatically.

Peeved, Vanora set off toward the house. To her surprise, he grabbed her arm, stopping her in mid-stride.

"What?"

"You didn't tell anyone about the kiss we shared, did you?" Armando's gaze was vivid golden fire.

"You mean like my big brother?" Vanora rolled her eyes. "Yeah. Right. Like I really want him to make a big scene throwing you out."

"And not Alisha?"

"No. No one."

"Oh." Armando looked relieved, but also, perhaps, disappointed.

"Well, I did tell my cousin, Felicia, but she told me to stay away from you because you're bad news."

The vampire had the audacity to look hurt. "Bad news?"

"She doesn't know you're a vampire. She just thinks you're a friend of Alisha's that's way too old for me."

"I see."

"According to her, older men are trouble for young impressionable women like me," Vanora continued.

Armando frowned.

"Or should I say _old_ men. Really old. Ancient." It was fun to irk him after the countless nights she had spent awake remembering the cold flame of his kiss.

"I get your point," Armando said, lowering his arched brows.

"Do you?" Vanora sighed, observing the way emotions flitted over his features too quickly to discern.

"Yes. I'm old. You're young. I'm a vampire. You're not. We're definitely not destined for any sort of relationship." Armando looked completely somber and a little morose.

"You suck," Vanora decided and trudged toward the house.

"Wait!" Armando caught her arm, spinning her about. "About the kiss..."

"It meant nothing, right? A birthday kiss. That's all it was. I'm not for you, and you're not for me." Vanora said the words far more calmly than she thought possible. Even as she said the exact phrase he had said to her, the sentiment wounded her all over again. The fresh pain made her eyes burn with unshed tears.

Armando lowered his lashes, his fingers lightly holding her close to him. "Yes."

"So, we're okay. Friends." She could still remember the press of his lips against hers and the way her body had responded to his touch.

"Always," he said, slowly raising his face to stare into hers.

"Then, why the drama?"

The vampire gazed at her for a very long moment. His fingers were beginning to chill her, yet she didn't try to pull away. "There isn't any. I just...you were gone for so long. You've never been gone that long before."

"I'm seventeen, Armando. I'm leaving for good in December." She hated how her heart sped up at the thought of him actually worrying about her, thinking about her.

"I thought maybe you left because of what happened between us. I should have spoken to you afterward, I know that. Made sure things were right between us."

Vanora sighed. She looked everywhere _but_ directly at him. The warm, humid night air clung to her already sweaty flesh and she yearned for a shower. "Everything is fine."

"Then look at me."

Vanora smirked. "Is this a vampire trick? Are you going to try to make me forget that you kissed me?"

"No."

Swiveling her head about, she gazed into his golden eyes. His power did electrify the air around her, but she didn't sense it trying to penetrate her thoughts.

"Maybe you should stay closer to home. Not go so far."

Surprised, she lifted her eyebrows. "What?"

"Roman and Alisha need you."

Pressing her lips together, Vanora stared at him in confusion.

"You're very important to them. You anchor them."

"I have to live my own life." It was her new mantra, but one she found difficult to utter. Despite her desperate need for independence, she still felt guilt over the thought of leaving her brother and sister behind.

"Of course," Armando faltered. Shifting his hand from her arm to her cheek, he kissed her forehead, surprising Vanora once again. "You're right."

"You're so weird," Vanora decided.

Armando laughed, the sound strained, yet somehow happy. "I've been called many things..."

"Like what?"

The question unsettled him. Vanora could see it in his expression, but he shoved it away with a wide, fake smile.

"Handsome. Charming. Intelligent. _Young._ "

"Nah, you're _old_."

"I was made into a vampire at twenty-two!"

"You look older." Vanora enjoyed teasing him. It alleviated a bit of the tension between them.

"Life was harder then. People guess I'm twenty-six. Tops." Armando playfully sneered at her.

"Old. So old!"

The front door slammed open and Alisha rushed out. "Snow Pea!"

One second her sister was on the doorstep, the next she had traveled twenty feet and was snuggling Vanora. It was disconcerting.

"Hey, sis. Did you miss me?" Vanora asked, drowning in her sister's embrace.

"Oh my God! Did I ever!"

Alisha swept Vanora toward the mansion entrance, Armando trailing behind them. Vanora glanced over her shoulder and mouthed at him, _old_.

# 35

Alisha was feeling human again. It was a relief to be warmed by the love she felt for her sister, and to once more feel grounded in the foundation of the family. Though she hated to admit it, during Vanora's absence, she had been disconcerted by a dark, predatory coldness that had seeped into her soul. Without Vanora to focus her on the mundane, everyday aspects of human life, she had slid fully into the world of the vampires. They had visited quite often in Vanora's absence. The entire atmosphere of the house had altered with their presence. Even though the vampires were following Roman's Laws, their internal darkness called to hers in a way that was frighteningly unnerving. Whenever she was around the others for too long, Alisha felt the hunger within her stir. Her senses became heightened, and she started to regard the world around her with a predatory gaze.

She'd been shaken to the core just a few days before when she'd been club hopping with Sheila and Alexander. As Alisha had been sipping her drink, she'd unconsciously and casually identified two people milling about in the pulsating lights as suitable prey. They both had been alone, stank of desperation, and clearly hungered for any sort of attention. She'd been unnerved to see that Sheila and Alexander were watching the same two people.

"Back in the day, that's what we'd call easy pickings," Sheila joked, a slow, wicked grin on her red lips.

It was then that Alisha was horrified to realize her sharp teeth had unsheathed. She'd hidden her mouth until they retracted, but the event frightened her. She hadn't realized how much Vanora grounded her until that moment. Now that her sister was home, she felt much safer and calmer in her own skin. The predator inside of her was still alert, but the gnawing hunger had retreated to a dull throb.

Besides, there was much entertainment to be had with the return of her sister. Alisha was curious about the peculiar tension she sensed around Vanora and Armando. At first, she thought she was imagining it, but then she noticed how deliberately they ignored one another during the course of the conversation.

Settling deeper into the chair she occupied in the family room, Alisha watched Vanora showing off her vacation photos on her digital camera to their brother. The siblings sat side by side on the couch, while Armando sat a safe distance from Vanora on the armrest, leaving a whole cushion length between them.

Alisha found it all very suspicious.

"So who are all these kids?" Roman asked, pointing to the screen.

"Those are friends of Felicia's that visited one weekend. She wanted me to meet them before I move to Austin in December."

"All these boys are her friends?" Roman sounded just like a dad, much to Alisha's amusement.

"Boys?" Armando arched an eyebrow.

"Yeah. _Boys_." Vanora cast a definite side eye in Armando's direction. "It was about half and half. That's Felicia's new boyfriend. He's dreamy. His name is Juan Carlos and he's from Mexico City. That boy next to him is his even cuter brother."

"I want to see." Alisha thrust out her hand.

Vanora scooted around the coffee table and showed Alisha the image on the camera. The young man in the picture was very handsome. "Oh, he's a hottie. Did he show any interest in you?"

"I hope not!" Roman sputtered. "She's too young!"

"I'm seventeen!"

"Yeah, she's seventeen!" Alisha agreed.

"How old is this _boy_?" Armando asked in a very neutral tone.

"Twenty-one," Vanora answered.

"Too old," Roman declared.

"I agree," Armando chimed in.

"You don't get a vote," Vanora said darkly to Armando, brushing past him to sit next to her brother again.

Alisha smirked. Her little sister was definitely jabbing at Armando, but Roman was too obtuse to realize it. The frown lines on his face said it all as he glared at the screen of Vanora's pink digital camera.

"I'll call Uncle Nicolau about this boy tomorrow."

"Oh, God, Roman." Vanora rolled her eyes. "It's not like I had sex with him."

"Good!"

"Though if I did, it wouldn't be any of your business," Vanora continued.

"I'm your fa-brother!" Roman glowered.

Vanora giggled. "Will it make you feel better if I said he was a bit of a jerk and I didn't like him?"

"Yes. If it was the truth." Roman fretfully studied Vanora's face.

"It's the truth, Roman." Alisha slung her legs over the armrest of her chair and grinned at him. "Vanora obviously has eyes for someone else."

Both Vanora and Armando looked at her sharply.

"What's that boy's name? The one from school, Vanora?" Needling Armando was almost as much fun as needling her brother.

"There's a boy at school?" Armando arched his eyebrows.

Vanora rapidly blinked at Alisha, confused, then caught on. "Oh, _him_."

"Much better. Age appropriate. Plus, you're leaving in December." Roman irritably looked through the pictures on the camera.

"There's a boy at school?" Armando inquired in his oh-so-casual tone.

"Uh huh," Vanora lied.

"Uncle Nicolau let you wear a bikini?" Roman sounded horrified.

"Have you seen the Speedo he wears to the beach?" Vanora rolled her eyes. "Felicia loaned me that one. That was for the night swim we had on the Fourth of July."

Roman muttered under his breath. Alisha knew Roman was struggling with the concept of Vanora actually being a young woman. "I want to see it, Roman. Hand it over."

Roman gave the camera to Armando, who took a second to look at the photo, before passing it on to Alisha. Biting her bottom lip, Alisha tried not to burst out laughing. She could see why Roman didn't like the photo. The bikini definitely revealed that Vanora was a young woman with a slender frame that was nicely rounded in all the right places.

"Get me a print of it. I like it. I want it for my photo album."

Vanora grinned, reclaimed her camera, and playfully stuck out her tongue at her brother. "See, Alisha likes it!"

Armando remained perched on the armrest, arms folded over his chest, eerily still and thoughtful.

"You're encouraging her!" Roman protested.

"She's seventeen, Roman. Seventeen! I lost my virginity at seventeen!"

"I didn't need to know that, Alisha!" Her brother looked completely chagrined.

"You're just lucky she hasn't been into dating before. She's gorgeous and soon a lot of young _men_ are going to start noticing. If they haven't already." Alisha met her brother's glare defiantly.

Armando didn't move a muscle.

"I should tie you up and keep you in the attic," Roman grumbled, but he nudged Vanora with his arm affectionately.

"One day I might even have...dum dum dum...a boyfriend!" Vanora laughed at her brother's discomfort.

"I'll eat him," Roman decided. "That's what I'll do. I'm a vampire. I'll eat him."

"Yeah, go all Dracula on him. Uncle Nicolau says we're related to him anyway." Vanora snuggled into her brother's side. She looked child-like next to him and the sight tugged at Alisha's heartstrings.

"By marriage. Not direct descendants." Roman looked peeved. "Nicolau loves to throw that little bit of family history around."

"Was Dracula really a vampire?" Vanora asked Armando pointedly. "Did you know him?"

"No. He was mortal and the Turks killed him." Armando shrugged slightly. "Bram Stoker didn't actually base his vampire on Vlad Tepes originally. It was a last minute change before publication. Or so I heard."

"Was Stoker a vampire?" Vanora poked Armando.

"No, no. He was not." Armando seemed amused by the line of questioning. "Now another ancestor of yours _was_ a vampire."

"Don't bring up Elizabeth Bathory," Roman growled. "We're related to her by marriage as well. Not a direct descendant."

"And she's dead. The hunters killed her long ago," Armando said, shrugging.

"Uncle Nicolau says our family could claim the Romanian and the Hungarian crown if we wanted to." Vanora yawned, looking very bleary-eyed, but was obviously having fun riling her brother.

"There are several families that could," Roman said dismissively. "Our family decided it was best to keep a low profile. Far too much conflict."

"Is that why your family changed its name?" Armando asked.

That perked up both Alisha and Vanora.

"Our family name changed?" Alisha gave Roman a questioning look. "Really?"

Roman sighed, pressing his fingers to the bridge of his nose. "Yes. A very long time ago. And no, it wasn't Dracula. We're related to Matthias the First, a Hungarian king. His sister married Vlad Tepes. Later our branch married into a Wallachian family and altered the name. It's a bit of a soap opera."

"So what was our original name?" Vanora appeared as keenly interested as Alisha. On the Welsh side of their family, they were descended from farmers who happened to have the sixth sense. Their Romanian side was wealthy, aristocratic and shrouded in a bit of mystery.

"Corvinus," Armando said to Vanora. "Matthias Corvinus of Hungary. He pushed back the Ottoman Empire invasion of Eastern Europe. Not a history to disrespect."

Roman shrugged. "The past is the past. It has nothing to do with the present. Besides, our family is descended from the wrong side of the bed, so we were denied the throne after Matthias died. Our family was thought to become extinct, but we are descended from a secret child that was hidden away."

Alisha liked the sound of that. "Oh, scandalous!"

"Very," Roman smirked. "But there's a reason we never claimed our legacy. Nicolau loves to talk about it, but I respect the decision our family made to keep ourselves apart from the political intrigues."

"Though it does explain why you're a natural leader," Armando said teasingly.

Roman waved his hand dismissively. "I'm no prince, but Vanora is my princess."

"Your sleepy princess," Armando pointed out.

Vanora's white lashes fluttered as she fought to stay awake. "Do I get a tiara?"

Alisha climbed out of her chair and reached for her sister. "C'mon. Time for you to go to bed. You're not on vampire time."

Vanora groaned but held out her hand to Alisha.

Tugging her sister to her feet, Alisha snuggled her. "So good to have you home."

"I'm glad to be home. I can't wait to sleep in my own bed!"

Roman stood and hugged his sister, kissing her on both cheeks. Alisha felt a pang of sorrow at the sight. Roman had seemed even more lost than she had in Vanora's absence. Alisha couldn't imagine how he'd react to Vanora permanently moving out of their home and lives to establish her own home and life.

Alisha scooted her sister past the pensive Armando and winked at him. His reaction was priceless. He looked flustered.

"After I get Snow Pea to bed, I'll be back down."

The sisters trudged up the stairs to Vanora's room. Roman and Armando had carried Vanora's things up earlier, but her younger sister ignored the prospect of unpacking and fell face first onto the bed.

"So tired," Vanora's muffled voice said.

"Too tired to tell me what's up with Armando?" Alisha asked coyly.

Vanora's head snapped up. "Uh, what?"

"Don't play innocent with me. You're both acting really weird."

Rolling onto her back, Vanora let out a long, exaggerated breath.

"So? Spill it, Snow Pea."

"You know I have a crush on him. I've had it forever."

"Yeah, but tonight's the first time I realized it might be going both ways. It must be a new development because Armando never acted this way before." Alisha sat on the edge of the bed and leaned toward her sister. She was a little unnerved by the idea of Armando, a dear friend, actually having interest in her sister, but tonight Alisha had realized what maybe Armando already had noticed: the truth. Vanora was a young woman now.

"You think so?" Vanora sat up, her purple eyes wide with surprise. "Really?"

"Yeah, but he's like four hundred years old."

"He was changed when he was twenty-two." Vanora's tone was slightly defensive, but also had an edge of defeat to it.

Alisha gently combed her fingers through Vanora's hair and gave her sister a small smile. "I have no idea how age affects vampires. I'm forever twenty-two, too. I'm supposed to be dreading my thirtieth birthday this year. Yet, here I am frozen in time."

"Do you feel different? Like older inside?"

"Yes and no. I mean, I have seven more years of life experience under my belt, but I..." Alisha faltered. It was hard to describe, but in some ways, she felt unchanged despite everything that had happened. The woman she had been when she had died was the woman she still was. "I'm the same, but I'm not. I can't explain it. But in four hundred years, will I still be who I am tonight? I don't know."

Vanora sighed and rolled onto her side. "It doesn't matter anyway. Armando is not for me. I'm not for him." She plucked at the silver bracelet that rarely left her wrist since her birthday. Vanora had claimed a school friend had given it to her, but now Alisha knew better. Armando had given it to her sister.

"Who said that? Armando?"

Vanora gave a curt nod of her chin.

Alisha lay beside Vanora so she could see her face better. The sadness etched in her sister's features said it all. "He's right, you know. You're going to go to UT, you'll have a fabulous career, get married, have kids, all that wonderful normal human stuff. You get to have everything Roman and I won't. Armando is right. Your forever is out there somewhere."

Vanora visibly winced.

A startling shiver of ice slid through Alisha and she frowned slightly. Her words had felt somehow prophetic, yet cruel. "That's a good thing, Vanora."

"I know. But it's hard to tell my heart that. This feels worse than any old crush. Like an ache inside of me that just hurts whenever I'm around him."

"You two haven't..."

Vanora pretended to pull something out of her jean pocket and hand it to Alisha. "V-Card intact."

"Has he, you know, given you any indication of being romantically interested in you?"

Plucking at her lips, Vanora stared at her canopy before finally lifting one shoulder. "I don't know."

"The bracelet..." Alisha faltered when she realized how close her sister was to tears.

"It doesn't matter, Alisha," Vanora said at last. "It doesn't matter because I'm leaving in December and doing all that stuff you said. I already feel guilty about leaving you and Roman as it is. I don't need this..." She shook her head. "Don't worry about it. Seriously. Armando made it very clear that we're nothing more than friends."

"So I don't need to talk to him?"

"Oh my God! I would kill you!"

Alisha grimaced. "Okay. Sheesh. Back off, homicidal sister!"

Vanora covered her face with her hands. "Just let it go. Let it be. That's what I'm doing. Besides, now Armando thinks there's a boy at school who's into me. He's probably relieved to have shucked me off."

Alisha considered telling Vanora that she seriously doubted that. She had sensed great discomfort within Armando throughout the conversation earlier. Plus, she had seen his face when he had seen the picture of Vanora looking very much like a sexy young woman. Yet, if she told her sister her suspicions, it would probably make things worse for her. It was best if Vanora wrote off Armando just as Alisha had written off Sin. Even if it hurt like hell.

Alisha wondered if it would always hurt like hell.

"Besides," Vanora continued. "What hope does a mortal have with a vampire?"

Alisha knew that answer too well.

None at all.

# 36

**_August 2007_**

"It's kind of gruesome, don't you think?"

Vanora swam up to the edge of the pool, tucked her hands onto the ledge, and pulled herself up far enough to see what Rhonda was gazing at. It was the mausoleum, barely visible beyond the oak trees. In the late afternoon lighting, it did look particularly gloomy.

"I honestly don't think about it," Vanora lied. She fussed with her bathing cap. She had to wear it in the chlorinated water or else her fine white-blond hair would take on a greenish hue.

Earlier, Ryan had cleaned the leaves out of the old pool so Vanora and Rhonda could spend the afternoon swimming. Roman had finally relented and allowed Vanora to have a visitor over during the day. It was only Rhonda's second visit and she was endlessly intrigued with the gothic mansion and the grounds around it.

"But there are dead people in it. On your property. Near your home!" Rhonda widened her eyes dramatically. "Boo!"

Vanora scoffed at her friend. "Oh, c'mon."

"You live in a mansion straight out of a creepy horror story and you have a mausoleum sitting right under your nose. It's all so...weird!"

Vanora slapped the water, splashing Rhonda. "Oh, shut up! See! This is why I never have you over!"

Laughing, her friend swam back across the pool. "It's not my fault you live in Dracula's castle. Hell, you're even part Romanian."

"My family wanted something that would remind them of home. So they built this..." Vanora motioned toward the house.

"It's pretty awesome though. It feels like we're in Europe."

"Which was the point." Vanora floated in the warm green-blue water. A few leaves had found their way onto the surface and she pushed them away with her hands.

"My house is so boring compared to yours."

"My _life_ is so boring compared to yours. Who got to go to Europe this summer, huh?"

"You should have gone with me. Then you could have been devirginized by a hot Italian hunk, too." Rhonda wagged her eyebrows.

Vanora flipped around in the water to face her friend. Grinning, she teasingly said, "Oh, and this makes how many times you've lost your V-card now?"

Rhonda rolled her eyes. "Whatevs."

"Like the third time. Fourth time?"

"There are varying degrees," Rhonda said, slightly pouting.

"I think there's not." Vanora enjoyed the sensation of the warm water shifting beneath her feet as she slowly kicked to stay afloat. The pool had been built long before the new regulations restricting pool depth, so it was eight feet deep at one end and four at the other. She felt a bit like a mermaid with the water lightly splashing her face and neck.

"Well, in my book there are varying degrees. You work your way around the bases. You know what I mean? Oh, wait. You wouldn't know!"

"I'm waiting for someone special." Vanora shrugged.

Rhonda made a face and rolled her eyes. "You're not waiting until marriage are you?"

"Well, what if I did? There's nothing wrong with that. But, no, actually, I'm waiting until I'm in love with someone." Vanora tried very hard not to think of a certain vampire with amber eyes.

Rhonda rolled her eyes. "Romantic crap."

"Yeah, romantic crap."

"Sex doesn't have to do with romance or love. Lust is very, very fun."

"In your eyes maybe."

"Why are you being such a prude? You know my brother still thinks you're hot."

"Your brother is a dick," Vanora reminded her.

"True. True."

"And I'm not a prude. I'm just...careful. I mean...c'mon, how many boys have shown real interest in me?" Vanora actually hated most of the boys at school. After she found out there was a bet going around that her nipples were as white as the rest of her, she'd decided to never let any of the idiots close enough for them to find out.

"Well, they're all stupid. I went to freakin' Europe to get laid rather than let those losers touch me." Rhonda swam to one of the inflatable chairs they'd tossed into the pool earlier and clung to the armrest. "I can see why you're all dramatic and romantic though. I mean, this house. C'mon. How could you not see yourself as some sort of romantic heroine? You actually have gargoyles on the house. Gargoyles!"

Vanora splashed Rhonda again. "Shut up!"

Rhonda splashed her back with vigor.

"Girls, I'm fixin' a nice dinner for ya both. Don't ya think you should be comin' in now? The sun is setting."

"Oh, not yet! It's so nice!" Rhonda gave Miss Robbins her most adorable look.

Miss Robbins fussed with her apron and implored Vanora silently with her eyes. Vanora knew Miss Robbins hated to be around the vampires, but that she wouldn't want to leave without making sure the girls were fed and taken care of.

"I'm really not hungry, but you can just put the food in the oven and we can eat it later. Alisha is going to show Rhonda some of her artwork when she gets up." Vanora swam to the side and smiled up at Miss Robbins. "We're okay. I promise."

The automatic lights flickered on around the pool. That seemed to unnerve Miss Robbins even more. "Well, okay. But...ya don't stay in there until you're a raisin, ya hear?"

"I hear." Vanora pushed off from the side and glided through the water to the inflatable chair. She hoped Miss Robbins hadn't heard any of their discussion about sex. She tended to gossip and Roman was freaked out enough as it was. Vanora thought it was silly how he seemed to suddenly realize she was not a little girl.

Rhonda waited until Miss Robbins was in the house, then swam around the chair to bob in the water next to Vanora. "Seriously though, you should maybe get a makeover or something and totally hit up a dating site. I hate that you're so horribly single."

"Makeover?"

"Yeah. Like you used to talk about getting. Dying your eyebrows, eyelashes, and hair. The blue contacts? That way a guy will just think you're a bit on the pasty side, but not an actual albino. Not that there's anything wrong with being an albino, but you know."

Vanora knew that Rhonda was trying to be helpful, but each word drove another nail into her heart. It had taken her a very long time to embrace the fact she was never going to look like everyone else and that she wasn't a freak of nature. The night of her birthday, Armando had actually gazed at her like she truly was beautiful. That had made her feel a bit more secure in her appearance and identity. Now that her looks were being brought into question again, it hurt.

"I'm sorry, Vanora, I shouldn't have said anything," Rhonda said after too much time had passed without a response.

"I get what you're saying. I used to think the same way, but if a guy doesn't want me for who I am, what's the point? Why should I change myself?" Vanora sounded far more defensive than she liked, but her mind kept wandering to the moment when Armando had told her she was a moon goddess. He had told her she was lovely and she had believed he meant it.

The delicate skin around Rhonda's eyes was turning slightly blue from their long time in the water and the chlorine rimmed her eyelids with red. Yet it was the pity in her friend's eyes that made Vanora want to flee the pool.

"I hate that you're alone," Rhonda said at last. "You've never even been kissed."

"Actually," Vanora said, slightly preening. "I have been."

"When? How? Who?" Rhonda seized her hand.

"My birthday. Someone you don't know. And...it just sort of happened."

"Why didn't you tell me before?" Her friend looked both excited and miffed.

"Well, it's awkward," Vanora answered.

"Awkward? Of course, it was awkward. It's always awkward!" Rhonda hesitated, then said cautiously, "Was it with a girl?"

Vanora giggled. "No, no. It was with-"

"Good evening," Armando's voice said.

Swishing about in the water, Vanora gazed up at the vampire in surprise. Standing with his hands tucked into his jean pockets, he lifted an eyebrow at her. A quick look at the skyline revealed the sun was just vanishing below the horizon. Her eyes slightly narrowed while she wondered just where he had been sleeping that he had arrived so quickly after sunset.

Rhonda launched herself to the side of the pool, the water cresting around her in a large wave that splashed into Vanora, making her sputter. "Hello! I'm Rhonda!" She extended her hand to Armando, her smile openly flirtatious.

Amused, Armando squatted to extend his hand. "I'm Armando."

"Arrrrrrrrrrrrmmmmmmmmandooooooooo," Rhonda purred. She cast a curious look at Vanora before peering up at the handsome man. "I've heard about you!"

Vanora deliberately dove into the darker depths of the pool and swam for the far end, away from the vampire and her friend. She could hear their voices muffled by the water, but didn't want to know what they were saying. The awkwardness of the moment was almost too much to bear. Finally surfacing and dragging in a deep breath, she pulled herself out of the water. Her body felt heavy and clunky after so much time in the pool, luxuriating in the sensation of weightlessness. Dragging a towel around her and shoving her feet into her flip-flops, she trudged over to a deck chair and sank onto it.

"Well, I am a patron of sorts of her sister's artwork," Armando was saying.

Vanora dragged her bathing cap off her head and shook out her hair.

"I've seen her work online, but tonight she's actually going to show me her gallery. I don't get to visit often," Rhonda said pointedly, "so I'm really, really excited."

"You know how artists are," Armando said, shrugging. "They need their space."

It was difficult not to admire the way Armando's curls hung perfectly around his high brow and the muscles shifting beneath his maroon silk T-shirt. Vanora vigorously dried her arms and legs, trying to block out the conversation at hand. It was all small talk, but she felt as though both Armando and Rhonda were watching her furtively.

"Well, she's kind of secretive."

That one sentence uttered from Rhonda's lips pulled Vanora's attention back to the conversation.

"Yes, she is. I hear there is a boy at school that likes her, but she's being very elusive," Armando answered.

"Oh?" Rhonda widened her eyes.

Vanora glared at her.

"Him! Oh...we...don't talk about _him_." Rhonda waved her hands at Armando, indicating he should lift her out. He took them and dragged her from the pool. Shivering slightly, Rhonda giggled. "You know how it is. When a boy likes a girl and plays it all coy."

Armando lifted an eyebrow. A very slight inclination of his head in Vanora's direction made her squirm nervously. "Is that what he's doing?"

"Well, there was this kiss..."

Vanora thought about shoving Rhonda into the pool and drowning her.

"A kiss?" Both of Armando's eyebrows climbed upward.

"Oh, yeah. A kiss," Rhonda said, conspiratorially. "Didn't she tell you?"

"I can't say that she has." Armando finally turned his golden eyes directly on Vanora. "So a kiss."

"It meant _nothing_ ," Vanora said significantly.

"But she really likes this boy," Rhonda continued, skipping over to the deck chair where her things were heaped. "I mean... _a lot_."

"Really?" Armando followed in Rhonda's dripping wake.

"Completely. She's been crushing on him for _years_. Absolute _years._ "

"She's totally lying," Vanora said quickly.

Rhonda threw her an annoyed look. "I am not. That boy you've crushed on all those years _obviously_ likes you back since there was a _kiss_."

"A kiss," Armando said, his eyes narrowing suspiciously. "How old is this boy?"

"Oh, my God! Shut up, both of you!" Vanora slid to her feet and smacked Armando with her towel. "It's you, dumbass! You! No one else! No mystery boyfriend at school! It's you!"

Armando grinned, clearly pleased.

Rhonda howled with laughter, falling back onto the deck chair, long legs curled up as she rocked back and forth.

"Oh, fuck both of you!" Vanora stomped past them, her flip-flops squelching wetly along the cement.

Darting around her, Armando opened the door to the house. He smelled delicious. Vanora glared at him instead of taking another sniff.

"Shut up, Armando."

"I didn't say anything."

"Haven't you said enough already?"

"I'm just pleased you're not wasting your time with ridiculous boys at school. They're not worthy of you," Armando said, suddenly quite serious.

"And who is?" Vanora stared into his eyes defiantly.

Dark lashes hooding his eyes, Armando glanced toward Rhonda, who was busy drying her hair and trying to catch up.

"Who _is_?" Poking him in the chest with one finger, Vanora waited for an answer.

"Not me," Armando said at last.

"You're damn right," Vanora said, her heart hurting, but not allowing herself to fall apart. "Come on, Rhonda. Armando has somewhere to be."

Rhonda brushed past Armando, giggling.

Vanora shut the door in his face.

# 37

"So, what's she like?" Roman asked, trying not to sound irritated even though he was. Sitting on the brocade sofa in the library, his fingers plucked at a frayed thread on the armrest.

Armando shrugged. "Any teenage girl."

"That's not very specific." Roman frowned. He knew he was being overly protective of Vanora, but he couldn't help himself. His sister was determined to move to Austin and at some point live with her best friend, Rhonda. Roman hadn't seen Rhonda since she was ten. He remembered her as a precocious child that was a bit boy crazy. The constraints on his life chaffed at him at times like these.

Studying the tomes on a bookshelf, Armando answered, "She's a pretty girl, a bit flirty, outgoing, and is loyal to Vanora. Protective even."

"You figured this out after ten minutes?"

Turning, Armando smirked. "I'm a quick study. Besides, I've lived long enough to have a certain understanding about women."

"They're girls. Young girls."

"They're women. Young women. In another age, they would both be married and with children."

Roman's frown deepened. "Well, in this age, they're still young. Vanora has a lot of living to do before she settles down, gets married, has a family, a career..."

Drawing a book off the shelf, Armando flipped it open to look at the copyright page. "A first edition. Very nice." After a long pause, he said, "Who is to say Vanora wants all those things. Isn't she going to inherit money at some point? What if she decides to live a life of leisure? Travel the world?"

With a shrug, Roman slid to his feet to prowl around the room. He felt like a caged animal since he was unable to leave the library. Vanora and Alisha had promised to keep Rhonda out of this area of the house. Glancing at his watch, he wondered how long it would be before Rhonda departed.

"Roman, I realize that you want a certain life for Vanora, but she may choose another road to travel." Armando returned the book to the shelf and selected another.

"I wanted her to stay here, you know," Roman admitted. "Attend college in Houston and live at home. It was Alisha who insisted we should encourage her to leave. That living here with us may not what's best for her anymore. There is so much for her to do and experience away from us. Yet..."

"You want to protect her."

"Yes." Roman glanced out the window toward the mausoleum. "I also want her to have the life Alisha and I cannot. To live in the light, not the darkness. To find love."

"You can find love, Roman." Armando faced Roman. "Vampires do love. Some vampires stay together for centuries, only parted by death. Does being what you are diminish how you feel for your sisters?"

Shaking his head, Roman sighed. "If anything, I feel like I love them more. Like they are my children, not just my sisters. It wounds me to see them hurt in any way. I want to crush anyone who causes them pain." It was difficult to admit even to himself that on more than one occasion he had considered putting an end to Sin. Roman did not like to admit to the darker aspects of his nature. He prided himself on being in control of his destiny, yet he was trapped in the library by a seventeen-year-old human girl.

"That's the vampire curse. We cling to the things we love most, but we also can destroy them if we're not cautious." Armando slumped into a chair. "Maybe you should keep Vanora in Houston. Maybe not in the house, but nearby. Your love for her is an anchor to your mortal coil."

"What is your anchor?"

The surprise on Armando's face was unexpected. "My anchor?"

"Yes, yours." Roman drew the curtains, blocking out the mausoleum.

Running his fingers lightly through his hair, Armando exhaled slowly. "My career mostly."

"Really?" Roman wasn't too sure if his cursory interaction in his family's business dealings was enough to keep him tethered to the mortal world. There were nights when he drove through Houston just to see that it still existed, but it could be unnerving when his predatory instincts took over. It was too easy to spot prey hurrying through the night. Even a grocery store could bring out his vampire instincts if he saw someone parked far from the entrance.

"You. Alisha. Vanora." Armando slightly shrugged. "Your law."

Though Roman was flattered, the answer didn't satisfy him. "You've killed," Roman said in a low voice. "You know what it's like to kill and not feel remorse."

"Yes," Armando said simply.

"And your friendships and career are enough to keep you from that?" Roman sat across from Armando to better scrutinize his friend's face. It was a question he had wanted to ask for some time but had been reluctant to utter. The words shone too much light on Roman's own darkest fears.

"Let me be frank with you. At times it's not easy. We are predators. Our instinct to hunt never goes away. And once you kill...there is a taste for it. Not just the blood, but all that comes with it. It's intoxicating. It's empowering. It's easy to lose all sense of self to the predator that is within us. Yet, the man who I was when I died remains." Armando pressed a hand to his chest. "I am still Armando. I am still the man I was when I was mortal. There have been moments when I have lost myself in the more terrible times of my existence, but..." Armando trailed off, his amber eyes growing distant.

"But?" Roman prompted.

"I find my way back. Something or someone comes along that reminds me of who I once was and still am, apart from the hunger. Writing about Spain and the history of the colonies reminds me of my heritage. Being your friend, seeing your struggles, your determination inspires me. Alisha's artwork reminds me of my own days in the sun." Armando hesitated. "Seeing Vanora grow into a young woman helps me remember the beauty of humanity."

Rubbing his face, Roman considered his friend's words while trying to sort out his own thoughts. "My sisters keep me strong even when the hunger comes. I think of them and I don't want to fail them. I admit to a certain amount of trepidation about losing Vanora. When she wasn't here...Alisha and I both struggled."

Armando tapped his fingers on the armrest. "Then maybe she should stay here."

Adamantly wagging his head, Roman said, "No, no. She must have the chance to live her own life. Apart from us. This darkness. Sometimes I wonder if it was a mistake keeping her here. When she returned from her vacation with her cousins she was so happy." The mere thought of Vanora being gone and living in the huge house alone with Alisha depressed Roman. "But, perhaps, Vanora leaving will allow me and Alisha to move on. Find a new purpose for ourselves."

"You have time," Armando reminded him with a wry smile.

"I miss Norma. She was my girlfriend when I died," Roman said, surprising himself with his candor. He usually didn't share this much, but he felt strangely emotional at the thought of all the upcoming changes. "She's married now with three kids. I felt lost one night and looked her up on that site Alisha's been on a lot. Facebook? I think it's new. I don't know. Alisha had her laptop open, so I looked up Norma. She looked happy."

"So that's why you're so maudlin?"

"Maybe. I suppose it was a vivid reminder of what I lost and can no longer have."

"But you may one day find love, Roman. Look at Sheila and Alexander. They've been together well over a century."

"What about you, Armando?" Roman stared at his friend, curiosity nibbling at him.

"I've had many lovers," Armando said with a dismissive shrug.

"But actual love?"

"I have avoided it."

It was an honest answer that was also unexpected.

"Why?"

"Because I don't want to lose love again," Armando answered. "To feel that pain. That loss."

"So four hundred years..."

Armando gave him a slight nod. "I have been fond of many women and spent years with some of them, but if there was even an inkling I could fall in love with them, I would leave. Always."

"I don't think I could do that," Roman decided. "I would have to give it a chance."

Armando didn't respond.

"But I am glad you're my friend. I thank you for spending the day here so you could speak to Rhonda for me. I trust your opinion."

"Rhonda cares for Vanora. She's a good friend. You shouldn't worry," Armando said with a slight smile.

Feeling a twinge of guilt over bringing up a difficult and dreary subject matter, Roman said, "I didn't mean to pry about...your love life."

"You're not prying into something I do not have. That I cannot have." Armando's voice was flat.

"Maybe one day. For both of us."

Armando lifted his amber eyes. "For you."

"Abstaining from love is never a good idea," Roman declared. He grinned at Armando and went to reclaim his wineglass filled with pig's blood and wine. "It has a way of finding you when you least expect it. Or maybe that is just what I'm hoping."

The door clicked open and Alisha poked her head in. "They're gone. Off to some concert Rhonda's brother is having."

"How was the visit?"

Alisha entered the room and crawled over the back of the brocade sofa that Roman had already made a mental note to have reupholstered. It was an older piece of furniture that had been brought from Romania. "Oh, she's a wild one. She'll get Vanora out and about in Austin. They'll be fine. Rhonda is that wild friend every shy girl should have."

"Wild? I don't like wild!" Roman frowned, sipping the blood and finding it a bit flat.

"This from the blood-sucking vampire," Alisha scoffed.

Roman rolled his eyes. "Maybe one of you should go check on them. Make sure they are safe."

"You're never going to survive her moving away, are you?" Alisha shook her head.

"Maybe she _should_ stay in Houston," Armando suggested.

"Oh?" Alisha said in a significant tone.

Armando lifted an eyebrow.

"Am I missing something?" Roman looked at the two in confusion.

"No," Armando said swiftly.

"Probably," Alisha said with a wide grin.

"Why do I never know what you're talking about?" Roman playfully smacked Alisha on the back of the head.

"Because you're a man. And oblivious. Drink your blood, dear."

Roman fastened his most stern expression upon his face and leaned toward Alisha. "Are you keeping something from me?"

"Me? Keeping something from you? Oh, no. Not me." Alisha grinned at Armando.

Armando glanced at his watch. "I need to go. I have a book deadline and I'm behind."

"Thanks for the advice," Roman said, watching his friend head toward the door.

Armando merely nodded and slipped out of the library.

"You're up to something," Roman said suspiciously to his sister.

"Me?" Alisha plastered a very fake smile on her face. "I'm the picture of innocence."

"Uh huh." Roman eyed her suspiciously.

"Let's go over to Sheila and Alexander's. They're having a small party."

"A date with my sister. How pathetic is that?"

Alisha laid her head on his shoulder. "You know how to make a girl feel special."

Roman gruffly kissed her forehead. "Fine. Let's go. Maybe you'll find yourself a nice vampire boyfriend."

"Maybe you'll find yourself a nice vampire girlfriend."

"That would be nice," Roman admitted.

The loneliness inside of Roman ached, but a spark of hope started to make it more tolerable. Maybe one day both he and Alisha would find someone to be at their side through the long nights.

# 38

The club was cramped, hot, and hazy. The smoking ordinance wasn't going into effect until September, and it was as if everyone was puffing away in anticipation. Rhonda was chain smoking while flirting outrageously with someone far too old for her. Rhonda's brother, meanwhile, was being his usual creepy self.

"I wrote a new song. It's the third one in our set. I get very sensual when I sing it. I feel like I'm having sex with the audience," Trey said, giving her what he thought was a smoldering look. Instead, it just made him even creepier.

"I hope you're using protection," Vanora answered, sipping her diet soda.

"What? Oh! Yeah." Stretching out his long body, Trey swept his wavy blond hair back from his face. "I usually make sure my lovers are on the Pill. That way we can both get maximum pleasure."

"Uh. Right." Vanora made a mental note to later threaten Rhonda to within an inch of her life. The last thing she wanted Trey to know was that she'd been on the Pill since fourteen to regulate her periods.

"You know what I mean?" Trey lifted his black tank top to flash his abs while pretending to scratch his chest.

"No. No. I don't. Not from experience." Vanora deliberately looked away from him.

"Do you want the experience?" Trey grinned at her rakishly.

"With you? No." Vanora scoffed at the offer.

"You do realize lots of girls want me. Lots of them."

"So go bug them," Vanora answered.

Trey's smile grew wider, flashing all his teeth. "Oh, I get it. Hard to get."

Vanora rolled her eyes again, putting a little more drama into the action.

The club was all ages, but there were tons of college age guys hitting on the high school girls and plying them with drinks. Vanora made sure to stay far away from the bar unless she was getting a soda. Lately, the Texas Alcoholic Beverage Commission was on a rampage through the bars, making it difficult for there to be all-ages events. She'd heard rumors that some of the younger employees of TABC posed as college guys to offer younger kids drinks so the bar could get fined. Roman would kill her if she got cited. She didn't even want to give anyone a chance to accuse her of anything possibly illegal.

Placing his hand on the wall over her head, Trey leaned toward Vanora. "Look, we've been doing this song and dance for a while now. I know that you're a bit hard up in the boy department because of your freaky looks, but I'm totally into it."

Vanora lifted her eyebrows. "Wow. That was lame."

Trey shrugged. "I'm being honest. I'm totally dying to see what's under this." His hand tugged at the bottom of her short black skirt.

"Let her be," a familiar voice said.

Vanora looked over at the vampire incredulously. "Oh, God. Really?"

Armando rested his hand on Trey's shoulder and pushed him away from Vanora with one quick motion. Trey lost his footing and fell.

"What the fuck, dude?"

"This is so fuckin' cliché," Vanora grumbled to Armando, brushing past him irritably. Leaning over, she extended her hand to Trey. It was difficult to ignore how he tried to look down her top for a peek at her breasts as she hauled him to his feet. "This is my friend, Armando. He might try to bash your head in if you keep hitting on me. He has this whole dark side."

Armando literally sneered.

Trey adjusted his shirt and tugged up his low rise leather pants. "Chill, man. She's into it."

"No, I'm not."

"Playing hard to get."

"No, I'm not."

"We have this whole vibe going."

"No, we don't."

Rhonda appeared out of the crowd, grabbed her brother's arm, and hauled him away. "Leave Vanora alone, dumb ass! That's her boyfriend."

Pressing a hand to her forehead, Vanora spun toward Armando. "Really? The knight in shining armor ploy? Really?"

"Your brother suggested that I make sure you were okay. And that... _boy_ was acting inappropriately." Armando took her drink from her and sniffed it.

"It's soda," Vanora said, grabbing it back. "And since when are you Roman's lackey?"

"Your brother was concerned."

"Roman is paranoid."

"True." Armando shifted on his feet, folding his arms over his chest. "Besides, I was bored and experiencing writer's block."

"How did you find me?"

"Rhonda texted me on your phone," Armando answered.

"That's why she borrowed it? Ugh!" Vanora wagged her head with irritation. She felt all twisted up in knots whenever Armando was around and now Rhonda was conspiring with him against her. Taking out her phone, she checked her sent messages. Rhonda had been smart enough to delete them. "What did she say?"

"That I should come because you were being harassed."

"By her brother." Adjusting the strap of her black babydoll dress, Vanora shifted on her black high-heeled ankle boots. She always felt so damn awkward when Armando was around.

Armando didn't speak for a few minutes and neither did she. They kept catching each other's eye as the music swirled around them and people jostled past them to the crowded dance floor. Vanora felt self-conscious about her appearance. Armando had never seen her dressed up. Her white-blond hair was gathered on top of her head in a loose beehive with curls falling over one shoulder, and Rhonda had helped her create cat-eyes with liquid eyeliner. Rubbing her lips together, she felt the creaminess of her pink lipstick. She tried to discreetly pull down the hem of her dress, afraid it was riding up in the back.

"You look pretty," Armando said at last.

"So do you. I mean, handsome." Vanora fussed with her side-swept bangs, trying not to let him see the flush creeping over her complexion.

Armando grinned at her. "Thank you."

Vanora raised her eyes to the dusty rafters above her. When his arm snaked around her waist and he guided her into a dark corner, she let out a startled cry.

"We need to talk."

"I don't have a crush on you," she said immediately, in an attempt to prevent another awkward conversation.

"About your brother and sister," Armando continued.

"What about them?" Vanora played with her straw, swirling it around in the watery diet soda. The ice was nearly all melted.

"I think maybe you should stay in Houston. They need you."

"They're the ones telling me to leave, Armando."

"Yes, but they will do anything to give you a shot at the life they cannot have. You're very important to them." Armando's vivid amber eyes stared into hers, pleading.

"Only to them?" Vanora couldn't help but ask. She wanted to hear him tell her how he felt about her departure, not what he thought her siblings were feeling.

"I'll miss you," he said simply.

"Why?"

With an exasperated sigh, he looked away from her.

"I'm tired of this," Vanora muttered, brushing past him.

Catching her arm, Armando drew her against him. His lips close to her ear, he whispered, "Don't push me."

Tilting her head to look at him, Vanora felt her heart beating faster. "Let me go."

"No," Armando answered. "I want you to listen to me about your brother and sister. They need you in their lives. Your humanity keeps them human."

The nearness of his body made her tremble. The sight of his lips made her remember the coolness of his kiss. She wanted to feel it again. "I'm not one of you, Armando. I can't live in the dark forever."

A surprising look of pain flitted over his face. With a nod, he dropped his hold on her arm. "You're right."

The desire to comfort him filled her, but she didn't move. The air around them was fraught with unexpressed emotions. Vanora felt her eyes pulsing, the energy within her building. It was almost as if she could see the tendrils of her power touching Armando. In an instant, she knew he was just as torn as she was over everything that had occurred between them.

"Don't!" He drew away sharply. "Don't do that."

Lips trembling, Vanora tried to rein in her psychic feelers, but it was difficult. A myriad of emotions crashed down on her, wiping away all sensation but the agony erupting in her mind. The cacophony of thoughts from the people in the bar made it almost impossible to even think. Gasping, she pressed a hand to her head, her drink spilling to the floor. Hardly able to breathe, she was barely aware of Armando taking hold of her and directing her through the crowd to the front doors. Stumbling into the humid night air, she gasped in pain.

"Imagine a wall around your thoughts," Armando urged. "Shut out everything around you."

"Hurts," she wailed.

"A wall, Vanora. Imagine it in your mind. Make it real."

Dimly, she was aware of being pressed against his body, his fingers stroking the back of her neck. The world was a blur of darkness with vibrant flashes of light.

"A wall, Vanora."

Closing her eyes, Vanora instead imagined the bottom of her pool, dark and cold, distant from the rest of the world. Gradually, the overwhelming tumult of emotions dissipated into the waves. Soon, all that was left were her own thoughts.

"I'm okay now. I'm okay."

Armando's hands shook slightly as he guided her into the building and into a narrow hall that lead to the restrooms. She stumbled a few times. He appeared to realize she was temporarily blind and steered her to a bench.

"You need to learn better control," he chided her as she sat down.

"Shut up." She winced, her hand pressed to her forehead.

"I'll take you home," Armando decided.

"I need to tell Rhonda."

"Text her."

"I can't see."

"I'll go tell her. Stay here."

Vanora stared at the world full of shadows and blobs. "Trust me. I will."

A few minutes later he returned, claimed her hand, and once again guided her outside. This time he brought her to his car, tucked her inside, and belted her in. Vanora felt more embarrassed than anything else. She hadn't meant to tap into her abilities and now felt foolish. Resting her head back against the coolness of the window, she closed her eyes.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to do that," she whispered.

"It's all right," Armando answered.

"Nothing is all right. It's all wrong."

"Don't say that."

Fighting the urge to cry, Vanora pressed her fingers to her eyes. "Everything is so confusing."

"I know."

"Do you?"

"Yes, of course." Armando's accent was thicker.

Again, the sensation of being caught in a mini-storm of emotion swept over her. It was difficult to breathe, but she forced herself to. They both lapsed into silence, which was a sweet relief. It helped her gain control of herself and by the time they reached the mansion, most of her vision had returned.

Not waiting for Armando to open the car door, she sprang out, her fingers popping open her small purse to fish out her keys. She heard Armando following, his shoes crunching on the driveway. Moving faster than she thought possible, she unlocked the door, shoved it open, escaped inside, and slammed the door shut.

Turning around, she gasped. Armando was standing behind her, the light from the foyer chandelier illuminating his handsome face. He had never looked more like a vampire than he did at that moment.

"Armando," she started.

In the next second, she was forced against the wall of the foyer. Armando loomed over her, his forehead pressed to hers, his hands resting on her shoulders.

"You make me hungry," he whispered.

Gazing up at him, she could see his eyes glowing subtly red through his thick lashes.

"You make me weak," he continued. "I lose my resolve when I look at you."

Vanora's purse fell to the ground with a soft thud. She lifted shaking hands to his face. Tilting his head, he pressed his lips against her palm: they were cool and so soft. Feeling the tumult within him, she desired to comfort him.

Pressing his cheek against her hand, he looked into her eyes. "I shouldn't be near you, you know. I shouldn't be. You make it so hard."

"I'm sorry," Vanora said, wincing.

"No, never, ever say that. Never be sorry for who you are."

"Your teeth," Vanora whispered, mesmerized by her first glimpse of vampire fangs. They were wickedly sharp behind the fullness of his lips, though not nearly as long as she thought they'd be.

Armando lowered his face, burying it in her gradually unraveling hair. She could feel his mouth on her neck, his lips lightly pressing against her skin. "You should be afraid."

"I'm not," Vanora said, realizing it was true. "You don't want to bite me."

"I want to do this," Armando said, then kissed her.

Vanora was overwhelmed with the fervent caress of his lips and tongue. It was if he was devouring her, consumed with the need for her. He was so cold, yet she was aflame. His cool hands slid under her dress and she flattened herself against the line of his body. Shuddering, Armando entangled his tongue with hers before slowly drawing away.

Vanora clung to him, her lips touching his. "Don't do this again," she uttered.

Armando brushed his mouth over hers. "It's not right. We both know it."

"I don't know anything," Vanora confessed, tears glimmering in her eyes and a catch in her voice. "You have me so twisted up inside."

"That makes two of us," Armando said, his laugh bitter, but his following kiss sweetly passionate.

Vanora didn't know what she wanted other than to feel his hands stroking the backs of her thighs and his tongue and lips against hers. Drowning in the sensations of him, she tangled her fingers in his hair, afraid to touch him anywhere else. The throb between her legs was unbearable. When his hand slid around to caress her intimately, she was the one to pull away.

"I'm sorry," he said huskily, stepping back.

Hands pressed to her bosom, she could feel her heart thumping beneath her fingers. "I...haven't done _that_."

A small smile played on Armando's lips. "Of course."

"I...uh..." Vanora struggled to contain the crazed passions coursing through her. "I just...You said that we shouldn't be together, but this happened again. And if you say it again after we...did _that,_ I couldn't bear it."

"Vanora," Armando said in such a way that her knees almost gave out. Tenderly drawing her into his arms, he rested his lips against the spot where her neck met her shoulder. "I don't want to hurt you."

"But you're not for me and I'm not for you," Vanora whispered into the softness of his hair.

Armando gently kissed her lips, then drew away. "I should go. I have a deadline for a new book. I'm behind."

"You're going to stay away, aren't you?" Vanora's voice caught in her throat and her head throbbed. Feeling weak, she leaned heavily against the wall.

"I think we both need to think," Armando said after a long moment of hesitation. "To get our wits about us."

"Do you want me?" Vanora dared to ask.

"Oh, God, yes." Armando ran his fingers through his hair, the curls clinging to them. "And it's all so wrong. Your age, my age, Roman, Alisha, my nature, your mortality, my-" He stopped himself.

"Your what?" Vanora was starting to regret not giving in to him. Maybe she shouldn't have pushed him away. If she had sex with him, maybe he'd stay with her. Immediately she realized that was foolish to even consider, but the thought of him leaving hurt too much.

"My deadline," he said at last.

Vanora nervously tugged her skirt down and adjusted the straps of her dress. "I see."

"I'll be back for the Halloween Ball. That will give us both time to think."

"Armando....please." Her voice cracked and a tear fell.

Immediately, he came into her arms. How could a kiss be so sweet, yet so full of hunger? She clung to him this time, reluctant to let him go, but he was resolved in his decision to leave.

"Halloween, okay? We'll talk then."

What other choice did she have? Vanora nodded.

"Nothing about this is easy." Armando stroked her cheek, then kissed her forehead.

As the door clicked behind him, Vanora sniffled and wiped her eyes.

"Then how can you go?" she asked the empty foyer.

* * *

Armando stared at the screen of his computer but truly didn't see the words sprawling across the white expanse. Hands clasped and pressed to his lips, he tried to drag his thoughts away from Vanora. He was making some serious mistakes in his handling of her, yet he was unsure how to rectify the situation. The warmth of her body still clung to him, eliciting the need for blood and sex. He had lied to her when he said he didn't want to bite her. She had no idea how close he'd come to sinking his teeth into her soft neck.

The cellphone rang beside him, and he quickly picked it up.

"What are you planning?" An airy voice with a slight lilt made him shiver.

"Lorelei," he said with distaste.

Her mocking laughter filled his ear. "Have you missed me?"

"Why is he having _you_ call me?"

"Because he's busy...with _things_. You left a message saying you have something to tell him?"

Armando could vividly see Lorelei's mocking little smile in his mind's eye. He detested her. "Yes. There's been a development. I may have figured out a way to keep Vanora in Houston."

"Oh?"

"She has a crush on me. I can use it to keep her close." Armando rubbed his brow slowly. He was certain that his Master would not be too keen on his plan.

Lorelei burst into chortles of delight. "Oh, that is wonderful. Our Master will be simply _thrilled_."

"She's young. It takes very little to keep her intrigued," Armando said defensively. "I won't sleep with her."

"Just have sex?"

"Lorelei," Armando hissed.

"Oh, you're so defensive. Tsk, tsk. I'll let him know when he's done...doing... _things_."

Armando hung up. Lorelei would twist things about to suit herself and to cause him trouble, but Armando was ready to defend himself. Lorelei was a vicious psychopath, but over time he had learned how to deal with her.

With a weary sigh, he sat back in his chair, staring at his manuscript with unseeing eyes. If only he could go home to Spain and leave all this behind. Yet, that wasn't an option. He had to stay. He had to wait. Otherwise, his life was forfeit.

With an angry exhalation, he turned off his computer and picked up the phone to call Carlotta.

# 39

**_September 2007_**

Vanora was startled when Sheila threw the newspaper she was holding down in disgust, her many bangle bracelets tinkling. "Did you read this article, Alisha? Some asshole is molesting children in Houston. Says in the paper that the police can't find him because he dresses up like a clown, so there's no definitive description of the man."

The three women were in Alisha's workroom, helping Alisha organize her work area. Sheila had been stacking the newspapers Alisha used to protect the floor when she'd spotted the article.

"Clown equals ick. Clown pedophile equals double ick," Vanora declared in a disgusted tone. She was busy sorting out her sister's paint brushes by size. It was boring, but she was desperate to keep her mind occupied with something other than Armando's absence. Sometimes, she was certain Armando would return to claim her heart, and other times, she was positive he would crush it.

Alisha lifted her head, pausing in organizing her paints. "Are you serious? He's back? That guy was around when Vanora was ten. There was a huge manhunt for him, then nothing came of it."

"Well, if I ever get my hands on this bloke, he'll never touch another child."

Coming from anyone else, those words would sound like an idle threat, but Vanora could hear the dangerous undercurrent in Sheila's tone.

"And they call us monsters!" Sheila slouched into a nearby armchair, clearly disgruntled with the whole situation. "Fucking pedos are the worst monsters on the face of the fuckin' planet and the hunters waste their time pursuing us!"

Vanora carefully placed Alisha's brushes into their new containers, feeling pensive. Now that she was older, Roman had relaxed his rules about allowing the vampires to visit, and she was still adjusting to their presence. Armando and her siblings never frightened her, but there was something about the other vampires that sometimes made her uneasy. Sheila and Alisha had grown closer during Vanora's absence during the summer. Vanora rather liked the slender vampire with the punk rock attitude and fun fashion sense. Though Sheila had a fashion model figure, it had come from starvation when she was mortal.

Alisha sighed heavily, returning to her sorting. "If they ever catch him, they'll toss him in jail for a few years then let him out to do it all over again."

Sheila snorted with disgust, folding her long arms across her small breasts. Her heavy, studded combat boots clunked against the chair as she swung her legs. "In the old days, we'd hunt his sort for sport. We'd set him free in a remote area then have a shit-ton of fun hunting him down. Predators love hunting predators."

A disquieting chill settled into the room. Vanora pressed her lips together, trying not to say anything, but her mouth won out. "But then you'd be just as bad as the hunters."

Sheila made a face and shrugged her scrawny shoulders. "He deserves it. I'm reformed."

"What do you think?" Vanora asked her sister.

Alisha carefully wiped off a paint container and placed it into her new cabinet. The older Socoli sister was obviously weighing her words before responding. At last, with a slight shrug, she said, "I don't know, Vanora. It's hard to say what's right when it comes to people like that. I can understand why some parents take it into their own hands and kill the people who molested their children. If anyone hurt you, I'd lose my mind."

"But you'd never _kill_ anyone, would you?" Vanora persisted, her brow creasing.

Alisha avoided her sister's inquisitive gaze. "Of course not, Snow Pea."

Alisha's words sounded hollow. Vanora stared at her sister worriedly. Ever since her return from summer vacation, she'd been aware of dark undercurrents in the house. Though superficially her siblings seemed the same, Vanora felt as though she were somehow losing them. She'd thought it was because she was soon moving away, but now she wondered.

"I'm just talking shit," Sheila said, flashing a grin at Vanora. "C'mon. Don't take it so seriously. Those days are long gone. Like I said, I'm reformed. Hell, your brother and sister never even had to kill anyone! It's a whole new world. This fucker will screw up eventually and they'll catch him and toss him in jail."

Handing over the brushes to Alisha, Vanora studied the look on her sister's face. There was something off about it. "You never had to kill anyone, right?"

"Roman was there for me," Alisha answered swiftly. "He took care of me from the very beginning."

A disturbing memory of Roman ordering Vanora to shut her bedroom door the night Alisha had awakened as a vampire slithered out of the depths of her mind. "But you weren't okay when you woke up, were you?"

Swiveling about on her bare heel, Alisha set her hands on Vanora's shoulders. "Roman made it right for both of us immediately. You know how he is. He fixes things right away. No dawdling. We have this life because of his swift action."

Sighing, Vanora nodded. Sliding onto a stool, she hooked her feet onto the bottom rung. Clad in a summer dress adorned with flowers that her sister bought her, she felt like a child all at once. Maybe she was being completely foolish thinking Armando would want to be with her. Maybe he was just playing with her emotions.

Sheila noted the tension in the air and stopped swinging her feet. "Vanora, your brother is a leader. He has his shit together like no other vampire I have ever met. Alexander and I fuckin' love him. He's awesome. And he's not only your brother but also your pappy. He's got you taken care of. You're safe. Fuck me, how long did it take him to let us hang around you? Months. How long did it take him to let Fancy-Spanish-Britches hang around?"

"A very long time," Alisha replied. "He was absolutely paranoid."

"Speaking of Hot-and-Spanish, we swung by to see him the other night." Sheila tossed the newspaper onto the stack near the chair.

Vanora tried not to look as keenly interested as she actually was.

"Oh? How's his book?" Alisha wiped her hands on her jeans and set them on her hips.

"He says it's coming along, but he was on a 'break,' if that's what you call shagging a hot psycho gypsy woman." Sheila rolled her eyes.

Vanora felt like Sheila had hit her with a truck. "What?"

"Some hot as hell chick was there. Carlotta." Sheila exaggerated the name, rolling the "r" off her tongue.

Vanora could feel Alisha staring at her, but Vanora pretended to be interested in her sister's paint pallets, sorting them on the work table by size.

"So he introduced her as his girlfriend?" Alisha leaned against the table, her arm brushing against Vanora's.

The warmth of her sister's love sifted over Vanora like a soft snowfall. She could almost hear her sister's voice whispering to her to be calm.

"No, no. He played it all off that she was an 'old friend' from back home." Sheila made quotes with her fingers while rolling her eyes.

"So why don't you believe him?" Vanora asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

"Because this woman is no one's old friend. Trust me. Plus, Sultry-and-Gorgeous was really uneasy throughout our visit. Even Alexander noticed, and he tends to be oblivious." Sheila gradually became aware of Alisha's uncomfortable expression and Vanora's averted face. "Oh, I mean, maybe they were once together, but now..."

"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 partially 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 vampire 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."

"For a plague doctor."

Vanora flushed under his admiration. Directing her attention toward the vampires scattered across the dance floor, she felt like she was gazing into a painting of subtle perfection. The vampires were as unbelievably beautiful and graceful as many of the great predators of the earth. They absolutely took Vanora's breath away.

Casting an adoring look at Armando, Vanora boldly took his hand. "How about a dance?"

Armando didn't even answer. He just took her in his arms and swung her out onto the dance floor. Sheila had obviously taken over the DJ equipment. The Cure was playing, the maudlin romantic music filling the old stuffy ballroom. Armando expertly drew her through the throng of vampires, dancing with a grace that surprised her. Yet, she felt as though he wasn't truly dancing with her for his gaze was directed past her.

Vanora glanced over her shoulder and sighed. "Are you sure there is nothing between you and that woman?"

"Why would you ask such a thing?" Armando admonished her.

"Well?" Vanora persisted.

"Nothing to speak of," Armando said with a shrug.

Uneasy with his answer, Vanora dropped her eyes from the gruesome mask. She couldn't read him at all tonight. It was if he was closed off in every way from her. The gulf between them was so vast she began to wonder if she had imagined all that had transpired between them. Struggling to start a conversation, she floundered through her wildly churning mind.

"You know when I first saw you in the grocery store, I sensed danger," Vanora said abruptly in an attempt to start a conversation.

Armando's head jerked toward her. "What?"

Realizing she was sinking into mire she wasn't sure she could extract herself from, she continued, "When I saw you the first time in the grocery, the word danger went flashing through my mind."

Armando's golden gaze was penetrating. "Really?"

Vanora nodded, rubbing her lips together nervously. The night had taken a bad turn. She fought against the need to flee. Forcing a lighthearted quotient into her voice, she said, "Oh, I suppose it's because you are a vampire. I usually get this weird fluttery feeling when vampires are close by. Alisha thinks it's because vampires are predators."

"Yet, you didn't feel a fluttery feeling around me, but danger?"

Cursing herself for even saying anything, Vanora nodded miserably.

Armando held her a little closer, bending his head to hers. The long black beak was eerily close to her face. "And what do you feel now?"

Vanora lifted her gaze and stared into his amber eyes. The tendrils of her power stirred as she concentrated on casting them out about her.

_Danger!_

She drew her breath in sharply.

"What is it?" Armando demanded, his grip tightening on her.

"Let go!" Vanora gasped, her eyes wide.

"What is it?" Armando persisted.

Vanora hastily jerked free of his grip. She spun about, looking for Alisha and Roman. To her horror, the room appeared to have transformed around her. The costumes no longer seemed amusing and delightful, but grotesque and mocking. Menacing shadows danced about on the walls, the ceiling, and the floor. Were they all truly cast by the revelers, or were they menacing wraiths? Alisha and Roman were nowhere to be seen. Vanora whirled toward Armando, her long hair falling from her chignon. Her instincts were screaming at her to flee. Gathering up her skirts, she ran from the room.

She was halfway down the corridor when Armando caught her and spun her about. "Vanora, don't _ever_ flee from a room full of vampires!"

"Why not?" She felt as if her skin was crawling with a thousand insects. All she wanted to do was escape. Wrenching free of his grip, she shrank away from him.

Snatching off his mask and hat, Armando's handsome face came into view. Rubbing his fingers through his hair anxiously, he said, "Because it excites the predator within us."

Vanora gulped and lifted her hand to her neck. Beneath the fancy fake diamond necklace she wore was the chain that held her mother's cross. Apprehensive, she lightly tugged on it. "Why do I feel danger, Armando? What aren't you telling me?"

Armando dared to reach out and brush his fingers over her cheek. The sensation was surprisingly soothing. "I don't know, Vanora. Perhaps because it's Halloween. The pagans say it is a time when the veil between the living and dead is very thin and the dead can pass over to visit their loved ones."

It was difficult for her to not gaze into his amber eyes. She craved to understand him, to know why she was so inexplicably drawn to him. "Is that why you're dressed like a plague doctor? Because you're Death?"

"No. Because it was the only costume I had in my closet." Armando flashed his charming smile. "I barely met my deadline and didn't have time to go out and purchase anything new. I wore it in Venice a decade or so ago. It's authentic."

The tension between them dissolved as the disquiet that had gripped her earlier dissipated. "Armando, why did you keep looking at Carlotta?"

"Because she's unpredictable." Setting his hat and mask on a decorative table, he slightly shrugged. "I've kept her away for a reason. I knew she'd either mock Roman or fall for him."

"And that makes you..." Vanora lifted her eyebrows.

"Concerned. He's my friend."

Vanora felt the tight bands of tension around her chest relax. "You're not in love with her?"

The startled laughter that erupted out of the vampire sent waves of relief crashing through her.

"Heavens, no! Never!" Armando shook his head, his curls bouncing. "No. No. Absolutely not."

Pressing her hands into the filmy folds of her dress, she sighed. "I just didn't know what to think."

"I understand. She's a little overwhelming."

"I suppose we should go back." Vanora reached up to adjust her tiara and started up the long length of the hallway toward the doors that opened to the ballroom. She could hear laughter and music emanating from beyond them, but the festivities seemed so far away.

"Vanora," Armando said in such a way that her heart sang with hope. "Let's not go back."

Rotating toward him, Vanora observed him with uncertainty. "Why?"

Leaning against the door to the library, Armando regarded her with a mesmerizing stare. The golden fires in his eyes burned into her soul. "Because the thought of you being afraid of me is something I can't endure. I want to be certain that all is well between us."

"Armando, I don't know what _is_ between us."

Lowering his eyes, he sighed. "I came to Houston with a very set purpose. I knew what I needed to do and why. I was focused. I found your brother and his friendship has meant the world to me. He has reminded me of so much of that which I had forgotten. What it's like to have a brother. To have a family. To be part of something good. And lately, when I look at you..."

Vanora felt dizzy from lack of air. She was so afraid he'd stop talking, she was holding her breath to keep herself from ruining the moment with a stupid comment. He reduced her to so many jumbled emotions. Releasing a pent up breath, she dared to ask, "When you look at me...what?"

"Let's speak in private, Vanora."

There was an audible click as the library door opened. Slipping inside, Armando took hold of her hand and drew her after him. The room was filled with the night. Outside the windows, a waning moon cast a pale light over the lawn and mausoleum. Closing the door, Armando locked it. He left the lights off, leaving them in darkness.

Vanora felt close to hyperventilating.

Turning about, Armando drew close to her again. She could see the lines of his face faintly illuminated by the moonlight. "Vanora, you render all that came before meaningless."

"I don't understand." She truly didn't. It was as if she was missing a vital piece of a puzzle and unable to see the full picture his words were painting.

"I came here tonight with the intention of telling you that we are merely friends. I wore the mask because I believed it would be easier."

"And?"

Armando's fingers caught her face and he rested his forehead against hers. "Vanora, I can't say those words to you because they're a lie."

"I'm not for you. You're not for me." Vanora struggled with the words, not fully believing them, yet feeling instinctively that they were true. The thought was too painful to ponder. She knew what her heart felt for Armando, sixth sense be damned.

"I don't care," Armando said, his voice ragged. "I've spent the last few months with those words as my mantra and one look of fear on your face...you fearing _me_...reduced me to splinters."

It was hard to think, hard to process, and even harder to believe what she was hearing, yet she could sense the truth in his words. "Armando, what did you think your purpose was when you came to Houston?"

"To be alone." Armando's golden eyes burned in the darkness. It was eerie, yet lovely.

"And now?"

"I can't be alone knowing you exist," Armando whispered.

Pressing her lips to his forehead, Vanora slid her hands into his hair. Her power surged through her fingertips, but there was no resistance from Armando. He clutched her wrists and pressed her fingers against his scalp. It was if a great emptiness opened beneath her and swallowed her whole. But instead of being subsumed, her power spread through the darkness obliterating it until all that was left was her burning light.

"You are my moon, my light. Do you see?"

Vanora kissed his lips tenderly. "Yes. I see."

With a soft moan in his voice, Armando whispered, "Then we're both truly lost."

"I don't care," Vanora answered, and meant it. All that existed for her at the moment was the vampire and her love for him. She didn't know how it would change her future, but she couldn't make herself be concerned about the implications of their actions. All her fears were dispelled in the fervor of the kisses he adorned her lips

Swinging her about, Armando pressed her to the door. The warmth of her mouth and breath heated his lips. The vampire's kisses deepened until he left her gasping. She was mesmerized by the softness of his hair wrapped around her fingers, the wetness of his tongue as he licked her neck before lightly nipping it, the hardness of his chest against her breasts, and the way he breathed her name as he kissed her.

Caressing his neck, she lightly tugged on his bottom lip with her teeth before pushing him back. "Wait..."

"I'm sorry," he muttered, instantly releasing her.

"No, don't be."

Vanora dragged the chain holding her cross over her head before tugging off the silver bracelet he had given her that was concealed under the cuff of her sleeve. Setting the silver jewelry and wand on the nearest bookshelf, she reached up to take off her tiara. Armando's deft fingers touched it first and he carefully extracted it from her hair before placing it aside.

In silence, Vanora's quivering fingers pulled at the fastenings of the long, dour coat Armando wore. Pressing kisses to her face, Armando let her do as she pleased while loosening the remains of her ornate hairstyle. Beneath his coat was his regular t-shirt and jeans. Tossing the coat over the back of the nearest chair, she wrapped her arms around his chest.

"Not impressed with my costume?" he teased.

"Impressed with mine?"

Nipping her ear, he murmured, "More impressed with your beauty than the dress."

Vanora had always imagined this moment as rather hazy, romantic, and dreamlike, but she was acutely aware of the sound of the zipper of her dress being drawn downward, the coolness of his fingers, and the way the air from the vent overheard brushed over her spine. Armando allowed her dress to catch on the curve of her shoulders, obviously giving her a choice.

The sound of her breathing filled her ears. She was conscious of the fact that she alone in the room actually had breath or a heartbeat. Armando drew his fingertips across her jawline and lips with the softest of touches. Frozen by abrupt indecision, Vanora tucked her face against his neck, breathing in the scent of his skin and hair. The enormity of the choice she faced struck her despite her desire to fling caution to the wind. Nothing would ever be the same between them again.

Armando merely held her, gently swaying. Everything within her cried out for release in his arms. There was no doubt in her mind anymore how they felt about each other. The world of humans was far removed when they were alone. Nothing else mattered but that they were together.

Vanora shrugged the dress off her shoulders, letting it pool at her feet. Sliding her hands under his shirt, she allowed herself the luxury of touching his bare skin. Lifting her head, she invited his kisses once again.

The feverish passion between them reignited now that she had made her decision. It was a matter of seconds before the rest of their clothes were discarded. Vanora trembled, feeling vulnerable to his touch. She was glad for the shadows filling the room. It made it easier to be naked in his presence.

"You can touch me," he said in a husky voice. "Don't be afraid."

Vanora tried not to let her nervousness escape her in an awkward giggle. Instead, she kissed him and dared to glide her hands slowly down his back, feeling his muscles shifting beneath her palms.

The coolness of his hand gliding over her breasts and waist to cup her ass made her a little dizzy. The soft hair on his chest tickled her nipples when he tightened his hold on her. Lifting her easily, Armando carried her to the sofa. Arms and legs locked around him, Vanora could feel how hard he was when his cock brushed her thigh. Settling onto the sofa so that Vanora was straddling him, Armando dragged the rest of her tresses out of the hairdo it had taken her hours to construct. In the pale light of the moon, her long hair was very white against his skin.

"You're so beautiful in the night," Armando whispered, then dipped his head to lavish her breasts with tantalizing licks of his damp tongue.

Resting her cheek against his soft curls, Vanora's hair fell over him like a veil.

"Don't be afraid, Vanora." Armando seized her hands and guided her palms over his chest down to his waist.

Growing bolder, she dared to explore his body with her fingertips. "Like this?"

With a playful growl, he tossed her onto the sofa and crawled over her, kissing her from her ankles on up. Sprawled together on the wide cushions, Armando's mouth and hands slid over her skin, building the sweet torment within her until she bit her bottom lip to keep from crying out. She felt reckless, needing him so much it hurt. His low laugh of delight and devouring kiss when she finally dared to touch his cock only frustrated her more. Shifting her hips, she rubbed the head against her wetness, but he resisted.

"At last, you touch me where I want you to," he whispered.

"Don't tease," she grumbled.

"But it's so much fun," he said against her lips, before finally allowing their bodies to join.

Clasping her arms around his shoulders, Vanora clung to him, trembling as he gradually filled her. Any discomfort, pain, or awkwardness was swept away by the exquisite act of finally being with the man she knew she loved with every aspect of her soul.

# 42

Alisha laughed as Angel caught her around the waist and twirled her about to Bauhaus' "Bela Lugosi is Dead." At some point during the night, Sheila had firmly taken over the DJing duties and the music had definitely taken a hard swerve into more macabre music. A long swath of glitter along Angel's arm showed exactly where he had held her. She'd be washing glitter out of everything for months to come. Her arms, hair, and makeup sparkled with the stuff, but she had wanted to be a proper Tinkerbelle.

Angel was a somewhat short, stockier version of Michael Jackson, but he had all the right dance moves. Begging for a break to grab a refreshment, Alisha scooted off the dance floor and served herself some blood-laced punch. She'd been dancing for quite some time but didn't even feel winded, but she was a bit hungry.

Looking about the ballroom, she frowned when she realized she had lost track of both her brother and sister. Clutching her crystal goblet that had black spider webs painted across its surface, she wandered around the edges of the party. She finally spotted Roman and Carlotta through the doors that opened to the garden. It had been a very long time since Alisha had seen Roman so animated. He was obviously enthralled with the beautiful brunette.

"One down," she murmured.

Ducking around the big speakers, she sidled up to Sheila. Shifting one side of her headset off one ear, Sheila leaned toward Alisha. "What's up?"

"Have you seen Vanora?"

"Armando and she were over there about an hour ago, then disappeared. Maybe she took me up on my advice," Sheila answered, winking.

Alisha set her hands on her hips. "Great. Now I have to be the interfering sister."

"Let it go," Sheila said, wagging a finger. "We've all been there. The hot irresistible guy that we should never fuck around with, but absolutely should fuck!"

Alexander ducked around the speaker to hand Sheila a drink.

"Alexander, have any clue where my sister is?"

His sly wink told Alisha all she needed to know.

"Dammit."

Alisha deftly avoided the larger throngs of vampires, discarded her glass, and headed into the long hallway. A quick study of the hall told the story. Armando's hat and mask were set on a table near the door to the library. Clenching her fists, she stormed toward the door. Most likely they were just talking, but she wasn't taking any chances. Vanora was so young and innocent. There was no way in hell she should be with a vampire.

Alisha was almost to the door when the bittersweet memory of Sin filled her mind. Alisha hesitated, staring at the door she just _knew_ her sister was behind. She _felt_ her sister's power, her love, and her joy seeping through their sisterly bond. The sensation felt so intrusive, Alisha took several steps back.

What right did she have to barge in on her sister? Did she even want to find out what was actually happening? Maybe she should just pound on the door. But was that fair? Hadn't Alisha defied Roman to love Sin?

"Ugh!" Wringing her hands, she headed back to the party. "Fuck!"

If Roman wanted to know where Vanora was, Alisha knew she'd lie to protect her sister's privacy. She hated being in this situation, but how could she deny her sister's right to self-determination? And though it pained her to admit, she was fairly certain Armando had feelings for Vanora.

Entering the ballroom, Alisha shut the doors behind her. Sheila spotted her and gave her two thumbs up.

Roman drifted into the ballroom from the patio, his arm protectively around Carlotta's waist. The new vampire was gazing at him with adoration and Roman was clearly smitten by her. Alisha gave him a slight smile when he glanced her way, but she laughed out loud when he winked at her. It had been so long since she'd seen him so happy that it sparked a bit of joy inside her.

"Stop freaking out," she chided herself.

Everything was fine with her siblings.

Angel moonwalked in her direction, and she moved forward to rejoin him on the dance floor.

The doors to the ballroom exploded inward and a huge black vampire named Ben barreled into the room. "I've got him! I've got him!"

"What?" Alisha stared at him in confusion.

"Some asshole dressed like a clown was trying to get some kids into his van just down the street from the house! Me and Tracy saw him!" Ben exclaimed furiously, waving a huge hand toward the doorway.

The room was absolutely frozen. Sheila even killed the music. The silence was as disconcerting as the burning red eyes of the large vampire looming before Alisha. No one moved as a female vampire, who had recently joined Roman's family, entered with a middle-aged man dressed in a clown suit cowering in her fierce grasp. Gagged with the sash from Ben's pirate costume, the clown thrashed about trying to break free.

"That's the guy from the paper!" Sheila declared.

Ben paced in a tight circle around Tracy and her captive. "I found the bastard bribing four Trick 'r Treaters! I clearly heard him ask sick sex shit in exchange for these huge bags of candy. He was telling them it was going to be fun!"

"I heard him, too." Tracy dragged the guy across the floor to the center of the dance floor. Her sexy pirate costume was a little bit mussed, but her glowing red eyes and sharp teeth made the issue moot.

Alisha could feel the anger in the room building. It licked her skin like fire and she felt her fangs descending. Frightened, she stumbled back against the refreshment table.

"There was another guy with him, but he ran when Tracy grabbed this one. Zachary went after the other guy. Can you believe this? Two assholes hunting children in _our_ city!" Ben stalked about, obviously enraged.

"What does he have to say for himself?" Angel asked, his dark eyes burning with hunger.

"Let's find out," Ben said, yanking the gag out of the captive's mouth.

"Who are you people?" the man shrieked.

"You don't want to know!" Sheila grinned, baring her teeth at him.

"Oh, you think that scares me! Fake fangs! I know my rights, you stupid bitch! Let me go, or I'm going to sue all of you!"

Annoyed, Sheila spit out her fake fangs.

Ben was in a state of fury. "He had fucking sick stuff in his car! A camera with photos of kids in it! Look! Polaroids, too!" Jerking the photographs from his pocket, Ben threw them on the floor.

"And they call us monsters!" Sheila raged. Alexander tried to calm her but she yanked her arm away. She came around the DJ equipment in a fury, her black cape swirling around her thin frame. "You fucked up assholes screwing with kids ought to be castrated and left to bleed to death!"

The others vampires gathered closer to the clown, murmuring among themselves. Instead of music, the room vibrated with strong, violent emotions. Vampires were very emotional about children. Unable to conceive, Sheila had explained to Alisha that children were elevated to almost religious icons in the eyes of many of the vampires. Children were strictly off limits and any vampire who hurt a child was immediately killed.

"Look, bitch, I don't have to answer to you or anyone else here!" The clown was very sure of himself, seemingly not afraid at all. "Why don't you call the cops? I'll be out by morning if you do. I know my rights!"

The vampires were growing angrier as the disgusting little man in the clown suit belligerently shouted at them.

"Mother fucker, you have no rights here!" Sheila answered menacingly.

"Someone tell this bitch to shut her mouth!" the clown shouted.

The vampires were silent, their fierce eyes focused the mortal in their midst.

"I would have snapped his neck, but I remember what we used to do in days gone by." Ben directed his gaze at Roman, who'd been silent throughout the tirades. "We don't let his kind live."

Angel smiled slowly. "I remember it well."

Alisha began to feel dizzy. The bloodlust was growing in the room.

"All that he's good for is his blood!" Ben declared.

"Roman, say something," Alisha pleaded.

The costumed vampires swiveled toward Roman, waiting.

"Roman?"

# 43

"I can't stop kissing you," Armando complained.

Vanora giggled. "Well, I need to freshen up before Roman comes looking for me. We've been in here for like an hour."

Armando reluctantly let her slide off his lap, but rose with her, kissing the back of her neck and shoulders fervently. Vanora playfully tried to fight him off, but he followed her into the small bathroom connected to the library. It only had a sink and toilet and was quite small, but he stepped inside anyway. Flipping on the light, Vanora quickly saw that her makeup was done for. Running the water, she used a hand towel to wipe off the rest of her smeared cosmetics.

Armando buried his face in her neck, his arms wrapped around her breasts, lightly stroking them with his fingers. "We can sneak up to your room."

"Like he'd never come looking for us there."

"My apartment."

"Where is it?"

Rinsing off the towel, she raised her gaze to the mirror. Eyes slightly widening, Vanora stared at the faint reflection of the vampire. Lifting her hand, she nestled her fingers in his hair, watching her image interacting with the ghostly image. Another reminder that nothing about them was normal.

"Near downtown. Far from here. Let's go there."

Vanora was mesmerized by Armando's transparent form as he kissed his way across her shoulders and neck lovingly. "I'm sure my brother would just love to find out that I ran off with you during his party and that you sexed me up once or twice."

"Three times so far tonight." Armando kissed her slightly damp cheek.

"Walking may be an issue tomorrow," Vanora grunted, but she had to admit the soreness was a pleasing sting.

Burying his fingers in her hair, Armando's lips trailed along her hairline. "I'll carry you wherever you want to go."

Vanora dabbed at her eyes, trying to clean off as much of her black mascara and eyeliner as possible. "That wouldn't be awkward at all.

"Don't go to Austin," he said, his lovely accented voice suddenly somber.

Vanora could see his golden eyes watching her every move. "You mean not go to school?"

"Stay in Houston and go to school here."

Flattered at his request, but uneasy at his tone, she said, "What will be my excuse?"

"That we're together."

His answer heightened the flush of her cheeks. It was difficult to believe the words he was saying, yet the look in his eyes said it was the truth. "So Roman can kill both of us?" Vanora managed to remove most of the black mascara, revealing her white lashes. Blinking, she felt slightly frightened at the thought of Roman finding out she was in love with Armando.

"We can go far away together. I'm rich. You will be rich." Armando turned her about and lifted her onto the edge of the sink, pulling her legs around his waist.

"Oh?" Vanora narrowed her eyes at him mockingly. "Are you trying to hook up with me for my money?"

"Actually, your breasts." Armando seized one of her pale pink nipples with his teeth.

Shuddering, she gasped, "Stop that! We'll never make it back to the party!"

Lifting his head, he stared into her eyes. "I don't want to go back to the party."

Again his kisses left her breathless.

"The party..." she murmured. She was lost in him and knew it. Nothing in her world made sense anymore. All her plans seemed so unfulfilling in the light of his love. She wanted him but didn't know what that truly meant.

"Vanora, run away with me." Armando wasn't teasing her. He was incredibly serious. His finely shaped lips were in a somber line, his gaze direct, demanding a positive answer.

Was this it? The moment when reality would rear its ugly head? Or was this the moment she tossed all caution and familial expectation to the wind and did something crazy?

"Is this because Roman is going to kill you?" Vanora tucked her hands into the small of his back and drew him closer to rest her chin on his chest.

"No, it's just that if we are to be together, we need to leave Houston. Leave the States actually."

The edge of the sink was uncomfortable, but Vanora didn't want to shift away from Armando. She loved him with all her heart, but did he love her?

"Why?"

Raising his eyes, Armando lifted one shoulder. "Because your brother is going to kill me."

"Is that the only reason?"

Hanging his head, Armando sighed.

"Armando?"

"Do you love me?"

"Of course!"

"Then leave with me tonight. I'll show you the world by starlight. Make love to you by moonlight. We'll be together." His golden eyes peered straight into hers, pleading, loving, and perhaps a little afraid.

"I'm seventeen."

"I'm over four hundred. Eternally _old_ according to you."

Vanora melted under his kisses and she felt his erection pressing against her. She was sore but craved him inside her again.

"Leave with me," Armando whispered against her lips.

Again, the image of her falling into his emptiness and filling him with light flashed through her mind.

"Why do you want me to go with you?" she asked, at last, needing to hear the words he had yet to say.

"Isn't it obvious?"

Vanora was about to answer when abruptly she lost her vision. Armando's face disappeared into a blur. Fear and rage tore at her. Trembling violently, she almost threw up.

"Vanora, what is it?" Armando's voice sounded tinny.

Gasping for breath, Vanora shook her head violently. "It's...out there. Something bad."

Angry, fearsome shouting sounded somewhere in the house.

"I'll go check on it. Stay here!" Armando helped her down, then pushed her onto the closed lid of the toilet.

"Armando!" Vanora cried out. "Don't go out there!" Fright filled her. "Something monstrous is out there!"

A voice inside her was screaming in terror. If Armando left, she'd lose him.

"Armando!"

Armando heard her admonitions, but he was in a panic. If his Master had arrived early, he wasn't sure what he could do to protect Vanora. Tugging on his jeans and t-shirt, he fought the fear swelling within him. He shoved his feet into his boots and gathered Vanora's things, including the necklace and bracelet she had discarded. He used the hem of her dress to lift the jewelry off the bookcase. There was no way he'd leave her defenseless.

Returning to the small bathroom, he was struck once more by her beauty. Slender limbed and fine-boned, she was so delicate in appearance. The long whitish hair, lavender eyes, and snowy eyelashes made her even more ethereal. Kneeling before her, he pressed her jewelry into her hands, careful not to touch it directly. The muted pink of her lips compelled him to kiss her, but he knew he had to discover the source of the ever louder shouts.

"I need to go see what is happening," he said, willing her to understand.

Shaking her head, she stared at him blindly. "It's...terrible. Don't go. Please."

The desire to flee with her was overwhelming, yet it was Alisha's voice he heard crying out Roman's name. He couldn't abandon his friends, Vanora's siblings.

"Vanora, I will always protect you," he swore.

Her slim fingers found his face and he kissed her palm. Her warmth enthralled him, but he couldn't allow himself to stay. If his Master was in the house Armando knew he was going to die, but he wouldn't fall without trying to protect her.

"Armando, don't go," she pleaded one last time.

He kissed her and wanted to keep kissing her, but instead, he left her alone in the small bathroom. Unlocking the library door, he slipped into the hall and hurried toward the ballroom.

# 44

"Roman?" Alisha's voice cried out.

Roman could feel her fear, but it was not nearly as intoxicating as that of the mortal before him. Struggling to control the growing hunger pulsating inside of him, Roman took a step toward the clown. "It's not our place to bring justice to him. We'll call the police. We have evidence"

"You ain't got a thing on me," the clown spat out. "Nothing!"

"The photos," Angel said, pointing.

"You can't prove those are mine!"

"Fingerprints, that sort of thing," a vampire said, sneering. "Sure we can."

"You can't let him go!" Sheila protested. "Roman, he's not human. He's vermin."

There were murmurs of agreement from many of the vampires.

Struggling to contain his own emotions, Roman vehemently shook his head. "We can't take justice into our own hands."

"Roman," Alisha said in a stricken voice. "He's seen you."

Lifting his hand to his face, Roman realized he had removed his mask and hat while speaking to Carlotta.

"Yeah, I saw all your faces!" the clown grinned with triumph. "I'll tell the cops you kidnapped me."

Roman shoved his hands through his dark hair, uncertainty clawing at him. Could they risk bringing the authorities into the mansion? Wouldn't it put them all at risk?

"Got him! We got him!" Zachary bust into the room, dragging yet another man dressed as a clown. The redhead from East Texas was dressed like Woody from _Toy Story_ , but the savageness in his eyes wasn't innocent.

The fragrance of human blood filled Roman's nostrils, making his head swim with the hunger. Blood dotted the second prisoner's outfit. His cheek was badly scraped and bruised, leaking fresh blood.

"Larry," the new captive moaned, obviously far more frightened than the first man.

Roman had a feeling Zachary had let his prey know that he was a true vampire while subduing him.

"Shut up," the first clown hissed. "Just shut up."

"They ain't human, Larry. They ain't human."

The scent of the blood was so overwhelming Roman could actually taste it on his tongue. He wasn't the only one. The other vampires had gone eerily still, their gaze fastened to the two men.

"Just what the hell is going on here? I know my rights! I want the hell out of here!" Larry tried to break free of Tracy, violently twisting about.

With a smirk, she deliberately released his arm. "Try to leave."

Zachery let go of the second prisoner as well. "Try to go."

Falling to his knees, the man began to weep while Larry rushed to his side. "Get up, Will."

"They're not going to let us go," Will said in a hoarse voice. Yanking off his red fuzzy wig, he revealed dirty blond hair. "We're going to die."

"They can't hurt us!" Larry shouted angrily. "You can't hurt us! We're American citizens."

"They're not human," Will sobbed. "They're not human."

Beads of sweat slipping down over his brow, the man in the decrepit clown suit slowly backed toward the hallway, abandoning his partner. A vampire dressed as Cleopatra darted with vampire swiftness to block his path. She shoved him to the center of the ballroom as the vampires drifted forward to encircle him.

Wincing with pain, Larry climbed to his feet. Nearby, Will continued to sob.

"I want to go right now! You don't have a right to keep me here! You aren't the cops! And I know my rights!"

The molester rushed several vampires and tried to thrust them aside, but they tossed him back into the center of the circle.

Rocking back and forth, his eyes darting all around, Will wailed while Larry paced around the interior of the perimeter the vampires had formed.

"You ain't got the right to keep me here!"

Roman stood at the edge of the gathered vampires, trying to look away. The blood fever was pulsating all around him. The disgusting perverts' hearts were thundering with fear, further fueling the bloodlust. The clown's quick, darting movements mesmerized Roman. He had to fight the urge to pounce on him and rip his throat out.

Again the molester made an attempt to break through the vampires. This time he tried to shove Alisha out of the way, but with an angry hiss, she sent him sprawling across the floor with a vicious blow.

Seeing the monster in his sister's face, Roman discovered his waning humanity. "Wait! Wait! We can't do this! I'll call the police! We'll show them what we have in way of evidence!" Roman pushed his way through the crowd. His face was strained, his eyes burning. The hunger roared inside, begging to be sated.

Alexander gazed at the photos Ben had tossed on the floor and a single, diamond tear tinted with the sheen of red fell from his eyes. Deliberately he raised his head, his eyes glowing. A low growl erupting from his throat, he reached out to Sheila, who took his hand.

"I agree," she said boldly. "There is no justice, Roman when it comes to these sort of men. No one will miss them. Only other slimy bastards like them."

"We must be reasonable!" Roman interjected. He was trembling as he fought against the need to feed. Looking at his sister, he saw that her eyes were dilated and her teeth elongated. The pounding heartbeat of the cowering mortals was clearly affecting her as well as the other vampires. "We don't have the right to judge these men and kill them!"

"Kill me?" Larry shrieked in disbelief.

"They're not human!" Will screamed. "They're going to kill us."

Alisha stepped toward her brother, her beauty intensified by the deadly fire in her eyes. "What if these bastards had touched Snow Pea? What if those photos were of her when she was a little girl! Look at them and tell me they don't deserve to die! You know they do!"

The bald man attempted to break through the gathered vampires once more. This time Angel caught his arm.

"You're not going anywhere!" Angel said in a low voice, his eyes flashing red.

"Oh, shit!" the man gasped in horror, staggering away from him.

* * *

Armando felt the black energy in the room enveloping him the moment he stepped through the open doors. It took only a few seconds for him to ascertain what was going on. The humans dressed as clowns were stirring the vampire hunger with their wails, sharp movements, and terror. The smell of blood and fear was intoxicating. Armando felt his fangs descend as the hunger howled within him. He took several sharp steps back, trying to regain his control.

"If we kill them, then we have lost ourselves!" Roman argued.

"If we _don't_ kill them, we've lost ourselves!" Alisha snapped. "We can't let them go, Roman! They'll go to the police! We can't have the police investigating us!"

One of the clowns made an attempt to barrel through the crowd. A vampire backhanded him, the spray from the man's broken nose splattering the faces of the vampires closest to him. The crowd surged forward.

"Stop!" Armando shouted.

Sheila's gaze snapped in his direction. "This is justice!"

"It's an excuse to kill!" Armando retorted.

The fear in the men was leaking into the psychic energy in the room. The necessity to feed was close to boiling over.

Alisha let out a shriek unlike any Armando had ever heard before. Surging forward, she dug her fingers into the man's face. "You've taken children's lives! It's in your mind! I can see it! A small twisted body lying under a house covered by heavy, splintered boards!"

Screaming, the man thrashed beneath her, forcing her fingernails deeper into his flesh. Blood spilled down his face.

"Murderer!" Alisha's cry was a banshee wail.

Rage swelled within Armando as did the desire to rip the man to shreds. The hunger of the other vampires assailed him, and he clutched his head. "Stop this!"

"He is condemned by his own thoughts!" Angel declared.

"We can't!" Roman protested. "This isn't right!"

The dark hunger ripping through his mind, Armando crumpled against the doorway. The vampires had fallen completely silent. There were no more protests. The decision had been made. Purposefully, they advanced on the terrified men. The one on the floor was shaking so hard his teeth chattered. The clown still standing, surged forward, striking out at the vampires with his fists.

"I have rights! I know my rights!"

Several vampires growled low in their throats, baring their lengthening fangs. It finally sank into the man's mind that he was truly in the presence of vampires. He screamed in horror.

"They're not human! They're going to kill us," the other man keened.

Raising his hands to his face, Armando fought the desire to tear into the flesh of the men and feed. The sweet scent of Vanora's hair and skin still lingered on his fingers and palms, and the thought of her grounded Armando. He had to protect her.

"Roman, stop them!" Armando shouted.

It was too late.

Alisha wrapped an arm around the neck of the man standing and jerked his head to the side. Opening her mouth wide, she bit savagely, blood spurting onto those vampires closest to her. Then Angel was on the man, ripping open one of his wrists and feeding off the hot blood. The bloodlust ran wild in the room. The vampires lifted the screaming man into their midst, ripping at him with razor-sharp teeth and nails.

Armando recoiled, struggling against the bloodlust with all his might. He tried not to look at the feeding orgy before him, but his eyes strayed inexorably toward the pandemonium. These vampires who had sworn to not feed off of mortals and only feed on animal blood were gleefully ripping at the flesh of the dying man.

The second man shrieked in pain as the vampires descended on him. The sounds of rending flesh, breaking bones, and the squelch of flesh giving way beneath teeth and claws filled the room.

"Stop!" Armando shouted. "Stop!"

Plunging into the frenzy, Armando attempted to wrench the vampires from their victims, but they turned on him, slashing with sharp nails, hissing with bloodstained mouths. Zachary shoved Armando violently away from their prey.

"Roman!" Armando shouted, seeking him out among the wild fray. Blood sprayed into the air as one of the men's arms was ripped from his body. "Roman!

Then Armando saw Roman struggling to drag one of the men out of the bloodbath. The man was barely alive, covered in blood, and whimpering in agony.

Standing apart from the fray was Carlotta, a smirk upon her lips. "Take him, Roman!"

Roman managed to tug the man from the other vampires and attempted to hoist him away from their reaching hands. Armando saw the moment Roman lost his struggle against the hunger. His beloved friend's eyes flamed to red, and he tore into the already ruined throat of the mortal.

As long as Roman's vampires had been dedicated to a lifestyle free of violence and death, it had given Armando some measure of satisfaction that his Master did not control all. Tonight, they had been just as savage as his Master and his vampires. Even Roman had given in to the hunger.

# 45

Armando knew he had to get away. He had to return to Vanora and take her from this place. The doors to the hallway were open and he focused on the light pouring in from the hall. Stumbling forward, he found himself trembling as he fought the craving to turn back and drink. The passion of the hunger vibrated through the ballroom. The barbaric feast taking place behind him was far from over. It would only end when the last drop of blood was consumed.

With a shout of rage, he surged through the doorway and banged the ballroom doors shut behind him. Shaking, he struggled against the powerful desire for blood. Weeping, he collapsed against the door. He had to regain his composure. Vanora was alone and afraid. He had to get her out of the mansion and the city. Somewhere in the world, he would find them a safe haven away from all the madness.

Yet, his body yearned to return to the ballroom and feast.

Gradually he became aware of another presence. Raising his gaze, his attention settled on the forlorn figure cowering against the wall. It was Vanora in her beautiful dress, her long white-blond hair falling over her quivering shoulders to her waist.

"Vanora-" He hoped she was still blind, that she hadn't witnessed the bloodbath.

"I saw," she responded, so faintly only a vampire would have heard her.

Armando felt sickened at the thought of what she had seen and struggled for words. Finally, he said, "I'm sorry."

Tears filled her eyes, obscuring their striking lavender color.

"Vanora," he said in a hoarse, frantic voice.

"There's blood on you," she wailed.

"I tried to stop them!"

"It's all been lies!" Vanora declared, her voice growing shrill. "All of it! You're still killers! All of you!"

"Vanora, we're not perfect. We make mistakes!" He surged toward her, wanting to take her in his arms and soothe her.

Vanora stumbled backward. "Stop right there! Stop!"

Armando obeyed and lifted his hands toward her pleadingly. "Vanora, I would never hurt you!"

"I can smell it! All that blood. I could feel...them...dying!" Backing away from him, she clutched the cross dangling over the bodice of her dress with one hand. "Roman and Alisha..." Dry heaving, Vanora fell back against the wall, seeming close to fainting.

Armando took a hesitant step toward her. "Those men were the molesters that have been hunting children in Houston. I'm not sure of the whole story as of yet, but I beg of you to wait and find out the details of what just transpired before you pass judgment on those that love you."

"I thought that somehow y'all were not really the vampires of legends. That you weren't killers. That you weren't evil. But you are!"

Armando lost his temper and with vampire swiftness descended on her, taking hold of her arms. "No, they got carried away by their anger and the hunger. The hunger makes you mad, insane! They made a mistake, Vanora," Armando insisted fervently.

"Let go of me!"

The defiance in her voice and the searing anger lurking in her eyes both shocked and shamed Armando. Yet, even more terrible was the terror he saw bloom in her lovely lavender eyes when he had laid a hand on her. Dismally, he released her.

"Don't ever touch me again!" Vanora said fiercely.

Armando saw her terror, but at the same time, he saw her resolve not to cower before him.

"I love you," he said, at last, vulnerable, and afraid that she was lost to him.

"Stay away from me," she said, holding out her cross. Gathering up her massive skirt, she hastily retreated from him.

"Vanora, please, let me explain. Let your brother and sister explain."

"I saw," Vanora said in a tremulous voice. "I saw what you are!"

Armando again tried to step toward her, but she flinched. Her visage blurred as tears filled his eyes. "Vanora, don't do this."

"I didn't do anything but see the truth. It's all been lies. What you are." Finally reaching the end of the hallway, she fled into the foyer and then he heard her ascending the stairs.

"Vanora!" Clenching his hands, Armando followed, stalking up the hallway, determined to somehow convince her that she should not fear him. Just as he reached the foyer, he heard the door to Vanora's room slam shut and lock.

"So they have lost sight of their dreams," a mocking voice whispered from above him.

Armando gazed up into the shadows caressing the foyer ceiling.

"Tonight they truly know what it is to be a vampire. To take what you want, to rule over mortals, to be a god! The smell of human blood fills the house. I can almost taste it."

Armando's eyes adjusted to the gloom. He saw Carlotta lying on the ceiling, her hair and skirts flared out around her by the power that held her aloft.

"You bitch!" Armando exploded harshly. "I never should have brought you here!"

Carlotta's fingertips pushed off the ceiling and she gracefully descended. She floated downward and hung in the air above him, eyeing him with a smirk on her blood-red lips. "I did nothing."

"You encouraged Roman to break the vows he had made to himself not to drink human blood! Not to kill!"

"Face reality, Armando. I didn't have to force him. We are vampires! We need blood! Human blood makes us strong! We need blood to survive! You are weakening yourself on the blood of animals!" Carlotta's eyes flicked upward. "You need human blood, Armando. She's all alone up there."

"Shut up, Carlotta!" Armando was consumed with anger. He wanted to seize Carlotta around her slim throat and tear her head off.

"You need human blood, Armando," Carlotta insisted. "You're weak from animal blood. Can't you feel it? How weak you truly are?"

"Stop it!"

"You do feel it! Your weakness, your hunger! The hunger calls to you. You are a killer! Smell the blood that has been spilled in this house! It can liberate!"

"I said to shut up!"

"Yes! Feel the desire! Take the girl! Take the girl now!"

"Never!" Armando flung himself upward and tackled Carlotta in midair. He crushed her against him, his eyes capturing her with their golden intensity. "I would rather kill you than ever harm her!"

Carlotta was stunned but quickly recovered, her jaw setting, her countenance fierce. "You're being a fool."

"Then so be it, Carlotta!"

"You're a pathetic, little fool! You're a traitor to the Master and what we are!"

"If you ever touch Vanora, I'll rip your head off your shoulders and let your body burn in the sunrise. Do you understand?"

Carlotta lifted her chin, her eyes haughty. "I do as I please."

"You won't hurt the girl. She is more important than you know. More important than _your_ life. Our Master would _destroy_ you if you even dared to touch Vanora."

"I don't understand the Master's interest in the girl. She's very unremarkable. Just like her dear brother who is feasting on that horrible little man right now."

Armando refused to take her bait. "What happened tonight is of no consequence in the end," Armando said dismally.

"You've bought into all of this ridiculous philosophy of being mortal. You're pathetic in your desperation to be something other than what you are. You resist the hunger. You won't even try to take the girl."

"I told you-"

"That she's important." Carlotta glared at him for a long moment, then began to laugh. "You pathetic little, lost vampire. Your childish attempt at redemption is dead! Vampires kill! Including Roman Socoli! Or are you weeping over your pale, ugly little white witch?"

Armando was too furious to respond. He struck Carlotta. A drop of blood slid down her cheek from where his ring had torn her flesh. The droplet slid purposefully toward her red mouth, and her pink tongue snaked out, capturing the bit of blood. Her dark eyes fastened on him with malevolent rage. Armando gruffly released her and descended to the floor.

"You will regret that." With great flourish, Carlotta lifted her hands. The front door of the house banged open behind her. With one last triumphant smirk, she slid through the air and out into the night, the door shutting behind her.

In agonized silence, Armando glanced in the direction of the ballroom. He could hear and feel the feast continuing. Utterly devastated, he moved toward the staircase.

# 46

"It leaves at eleven-thirty and sets down after one," Vanora said while shoving clothes into her luggage. She cradled her cell phone with her shoulder as she packed. On her desk, the laptop Roman had given her for her birthday displayed her flight information.

"Okay, we'll be there to pick you up," her aunt's voice said, her concern obvious. "Can you tell me what's going on?"

Rubbing her hand over her face to wipe away her tears, Vanora took a deep breath. "Not right now."

"But everyone is okay? Alive?"

"Yes. I just...can't talk about it."

"Is it that man? Armando?"

"Aunt Crystal, please..." Vanora broke down again, collapsing onto the edge of her bed.

"Okay, baby. Okay. We'll pick you up at the airport. Be careful. I'm scared for you."

"I'll be fine. See you soon," Vanora replied, then hit END.

The beautiful dress she had so carefully selected for the Halloween party was tossed aside, looking very much like a wilted flower. She never wanted to see it again.

Vanora slid to her feet and finished zipping up her faded blue jeans. Dragging a pale pink tank top over her head, she winced when the fabric caught on her sensitive nipples. Her body was still tingling from earlier, much to her dismay. She didn't want to think about Armando making love to her, or his beautiful cold body hiding the monster inside.

Her vision had yet to fully return, so she stumbled a few times as she rushed to pack only those things that had true meaning to her. She shoved a photo of her parents into her overnight bag but hesitated when she saw the one of her with her siblings in better times. Realizing the photo had been taken when they were still mortal, she slid it into her bag. Picking up her old sketchbook, she hesitated, then dumped it into the trash bin under her desk. It was filled with sketches of Armando. Fresh tears flowed at the thought of him.

A soft knock on the door sent her scrambling for the far side of the room, her mother's cross clutched in one hand.

"Vanora, open the door."

Armando's voice, gentle and seductive.

"Go away!" Collecting her keys, purse, and laptop off her desk, she hurried to her bed to finish packing.

"We need to talk."

"No, we don't. Go away!" She shoved her laptop into her suitcase between her clothes and zipped it up.

"Yes, we do." Armando's voice said beside her.

Twisting about, she cried out in fright. He stood calmly inside the room, not two feet from her. The door behind him was still closed.

"Stay away from me!"

He flinched as if she had struck him.

Armando had taken the time to wipe the blood from his face and neck, but he couldn't remove her memory of his feral appearance in the doorway of the ballroom. She had never dreamed his exquisite face could look so monstrous.

"Vanora, I didn't kill those men!"

"But you have killed others!"

"Yes, but you knew that!"

Vanora licked her lips, realizing he was right. She had seen the gruesome vampire that had created her brother and sister, yet had lived in perpetual denial that her brother and sister were anything like him. She had deluded herself into believing that they were somehow unaltered by their new natures. After witnessing Roman sinking his teeth into the mortal and Alisha covered in blood, she knew she had been horribly wrong. Seeing Armando with glowing red eyes, smeared with blood, and looking like a rabid beast had drilled that truth home. All she had felt when she had seen his face was utter terror.

"I was foolish," she whispered. She dared to take her hand from her cross to finish zipping up her other bags.

Armando growled with frustration, his hands gripping his hair as he paced before her. "I'm a vampire! You knew that. From the beginning, but you still saw me as the man I am and loved me."

"And tonight I saw the monster!" Vanora jerked on her black leather jacket and yanked her hair back from her face, wrapping it in a tight bun at the nape of her neck and tucking the end to hold it. It was a defiant, cruel gesture. She knew how much he loved her hair loose.

"I didn't feed," Armando said again. "Vanora, I have abstained since finding Roman."

"What do you want from me, Armando?" She felt as though she were about to explode. Dread, revulsion, and wrath drowned all other emotions.

Imploring her with those golden eyes, he said softly, "For you to come with me."

"I can't." Vanora felt more tears slipping down her face to drip from her chin.

Armando stretched out his hand to touch her, but she scooted out of his reach. "Vanora, listen to me. What happened tonight was wrong, but it doesn't have to drive you away. You have to understand we struggle with an unbearable hunger every moment of our existence."

"A hunger for my kind," Vanora snapped. "For my kind! How close have you come to biting me? How close? I trusted you, but looking back..." Shaking her head vehemently, she couldn't believe how foolish she had been. When he had made love to her, she had felt his teeth lightly pressing against her skin several times, yet she had never felt threatened. Now she wondered how close he had come to biting her.

Armando averted his eyes, shame clouding his face.

"I thought so."

"I would never bite you unless you allowed me."

"Allowed you to kill me?" She gaped at him incredulously.

"I can drink without killing my...prey." Armando exhaled with exasperation. "Everything I say sounds wrong."

"Because it is!" Vanora darted past him and claimed her things from the bed. She'd have to risk going downstairs, which terrified her. There were at least thirty vampires below. To get to her car so she could drive to the airport, she'd have to risk it. Gripping her bags tightly, she walked past him.

"No!" Armando appeared in front of her, slamming his hand against the door.

"You can't stop me from leaving!"

"You can't go down there!"

"Why not?"

Armando's face contorted with frustration and anger. With a growl, he said, "They're in the bloodlust. It's too dangerous. They may sense your fear and come for you."

Swallowing the heavy lump that suddenly filled her throat, Vanora took a wary step back.

"I'm not like them. I'm not in the bloodlust," he said immediately, seeing her fear.

"I'm leaving, Armando. I have a flight and I'm not going to miss it." Clutching her luggage, she glared at him.

Covering his face with his hands, he groaned with aggravation. After a few tense moments, he finally uncovered his face and gave her a sharp nod. "I'll help you leave the house," he said at last. "Trust me this one last time."

"You're letting me go?" A tiny bit of her was hurt by his surrender, but she was also relieved.

Drawing close, he gazed at her with such yearning it scared her. "I'd rather you left than see you look at me in fear."

Lowering her eyes, Vanora sucked in a ragged breath. She wanted to forget what she had seen in the ballroom. The blood, the sharp teeth, the limbs being ripped from bodies, all of it. Yet, she couldn't. She was terrified of her brother, sister, and the man who had made love to her.

"How will you get me out of here?"

"The window." Armando walked to the same one where they had shared their first kiss. He unlatched it to open it.

"You...can...fly?"

"I have talents." At another time, he may have sounded cocky and teasing, but tonight he sounded defeated.

Vanora nervously pressed her lips together, then sighed in surrender. "Just to my car."

Armando gave her a curt nod.

Walking to him, she flinched when he reached for her.

"Vanora, I will _never_ hurt you."

The break in his voice compelled her to look at his face in the moonlight. To her shock, he was crying. Instinctively she started to raise her hand to wipe the tears away but stopped herself.

"Can you tell me something to make this all better?" she asked, abruptly wanting nothing more than for her fear to dissipate and for him to hold her.

Armando shook his head sorrowfully. "No, no, I can't. This is something you'll have to deal with in your own way. If I could change this night, I would. I would take you far away from here before you ever saw that...event. I would take you somewhere safe where no one could ever hurt you."

She believed him. Every word. She could see the truth in his eyes, but when he touched her arm, she shuddered in alarm. Dropping his hand, he sat on the window ledge and rubbed his face with his hands.

"Vanora..."

"I have to go, Armando."

With a slight nod, he took her luggage and dropped it into the bushes below. "Then you have to go. But to get you down there, I have to touch you. Okay?"

Trying to keep calm despite the tremors of fright rippling through her body, she nodded. Armando slid to his feet, scooped her up in his arms before she could even protest, and leaped out the window. They landed on the drive seconds later. The vampire immediately set her down, then collected her luggage.

In silence, they crunched along the drive to the garage. Vanora found herself jumping at the sound of every creaking branch and the sight of every slithering shadow.

"They're in the house," Armando said sadly when he noticed her skittishness. "We're alone."

Inside the garage, Armando loaded the trunk of the car with her things before closing it. She kept far from him, waiting for him to move away from her vehicle.

"I could drive you."

"No, I'm fine."

Folding his arms over his chest, he swiveled toward her. The intensity in his eyes filled her with sudden dread. She felt close to breaking apart. The insane desire to feel his kiss one more time seized her, but instantly the memory of his bloodstained face obliterated it.

"Vanora, please let me take you somewhere safe."

"I am going somewhere safe. Somewhere I should have gone a long time ago." Vanora fought back a sob. "God, Armando, it's all been a lie. All of this. Ever since they died, my life has been a lie. They're not the same people they were when they were alive."

"Yes, they are. They are still your brother and sister. Afflicted, but they still love you! I love you!"

"Don't say that! Don't ever say that!" Hurrying to the driver's side of the car, she opened the door and flung her purse inside.

"It's the truth!"

"I don't believe you! You wanted us to flee before this ever happened, didn't you? You wanted to run away. But that wasn't about my brother, was it? What are you keeping from me?"

Armando flung up his hands in aggravation. "I wanted us to be together!"

"And to be together we had to go off and hide somewhere? My brother can be a jerk, but he would have gotten over it." Something horrible occurred to her. "Or were you really afraid he'd kill you. Has he changed that much?"

"No! Never!" Armando looked aghast at the thought.

"Then why did you want to leave so badly?"

His jaw flexing, Armando stalked back and forth before her but remained silent.

"See? More lies!"

Vanora slid into her driver's seat, banged the door shut, and turned on the engine. Gripping the steering wheel tightly, she pressed her forehead to it. If only she could forget what she'd seen. If only she could go back to her naivety. If only Armando would tell her what he was keeping from her. If only she could return to the moment when he first came inside her, whispering her name.

Striking the steering wheel with the flat of her hand, she let out a ragged scream. A quick shift of the gears, a tap on the accelerator, and her little car shot out onto the driveway. Looking about, she realized Armando was nowhere to be seen. Hurt, yet relieved, she drove toward the gates.

# 47

Armando burst into the ballroom, knocking one door clear off its hinges. The vampires were scattered across the bloody room, lost in the blood stupor. Bits of skin, meat, and bones littered the floor. Kicking the head of one of the victims out of his way, Armando stalked to where Roman lay among his people.

Vanora's brother was slathered in blood, but his body was so sated his skin wasn't drinking up every last bit of it. Lips drawn back to reveal his sharp teeth, eyes hooded, Roman remained unmoving when Armando leaned over him.

"Get up, Roman," Armando growled, gripping the man's black shirt and shaking him. "Get the fuck up!"

Thick eyelashes fluttering, Roman struggled to focus.

"Roman, listen to my fucking voice and wake the fuck up!" The fury inside Armando was dangerously close to breaking free. If it exploded out of him, Armando feared what he might do. Thinking of Vanora, he managed to rein in his desire to pummel Roman into so much pulp.

At last, Roman managed to open his eyes fully. "Armando?"

"Get up, Roman. Now! Get up and take care of your fucking people!" Without mercy, Armando wrenched Roman to his feet. Sweeping his arm in an arc, he indicated the vampires lost in their blood stupor. "Get them up, Roman. They're drunk with blood and death. They haven't fed in so long they're bloated ticks. Anyone could come in here and slaughter all of you. Get them up!"

Struggling to concentrate, Roman slightly swayed. "I don't understand."

"You kept them from feeding for years! They've been half-starved on animal blood. Now that they've had human blood, they're drunk on it. Get them up!" Armando shook Roman violently, satisfied to see his friend's head snapping back and forth.

Finally breaking free from his malaise, Roman shoved Armando away. "Fine! I'll do it!"

"You had better, Roman! They need to get up and clean up this fuckin' mess you've all made!" Armando savagely kicked half a ribcage across the room.

"My God," Roman gasped. He gaped at the remains of the two men strewn about the reposed vampires. "We did this. What have we done?"

"You did what vampires do: feed." Armando dragged his fingers through his hair. The emptiness within him was a gulf of darkness. He had lost hope. He had lost his light.

"Vanora," Roman breathed. "Vanora! Where is she?"

"She's gone," Armando answered in a dismal tone.

Horror filled her brother's eyes. In a panic, he searched the room, obviously terrified he may find bits of her among the bloody destruction.

"She left for Austin, Roman." Dragging a chair out from a table, Armando collapsed onto it. "She saw the feast and fled. She's gone."

Overcome, Roman let out a howl of agony.

Armando was instantly on him, grabbing his shoulder and violently shaking him. "Get your shit together, Roman! She's safe! She's away from this darkness! This horror! Now take care of your people! Your other sister! You created this family! They're your responsibility! Do your fucking job!"

Visibly, Roman drew on whatever inner strength he had remaining within his soul. It poured into his posture and filled his eyes. With a curt nod, Roman wiped tears from his face along with the congealing blood.

"Alexander, Angel, and Sheila are the oldest. Get them up first and make sure they're fully alert. Then have them help you rouse the rest. Their power will subdue the younger ones and make them compliant. You need them to clean this room up. Burn everything you can. The bodies need to be disposed of. All of this needs to be gone. Do you understand?"

Again, Roman nodded. "Thank you for being a friend."

Casting an incredulous look at Roman, Armando moved over to where Alisha laid soaked in blood. "I'm doing this for Vanora. She didn't deserve this."

With a somber expression, Roman said, "I know." The tall vampire then began to search for the oldest of his people among the ruins of the Halloween Ball.

Kneeling next to Alisha, Armando felt his anger leave. Slick, cooling blood covered Alisha. She looked startlingly like Vanora as she slumbered. Armando dreaded the thought of Vanora in similar circumstances, lost in the bloodlust. It was best she was far away. Armando had to gather his thoughts, make plans, and hopefully find a way to save her from her destiny.

"Alisha," he said, in a much more gentle tone than he had used with Roman. "It's time to wake up."

* * *

Alisha gradually stirred when Armando shook her.

"Alisha, you need to open your eyes," his voice persisted.

It was difficult to obey. Her body felt heavy, sated and numb. Even her eyelids felt weighed down by an all-consuming lethargy.

"Alisha, I need you to open your eyes and look at me. You need to help Roman deal with this."

Deal with what? Alisha couldn't fathom why Armando was in her bedroom trying to wake her up. Nor did she understand what he was talking about. What was she supposed to deal with? She felt exquisitely replete and peaceful.

"Vanora is gone, Alisha. She saw you feeding on the humans. It terrified her and now she's gone."

Like a slowly blossoming rose, the memory of the feast filled Alisha's mind. Consciousness returned like the blow of a hammer. "Vanora!" Alisha sat up, gasping, her hands reaching for Armando. He didn't pull away but allowed her to cling to him. The horror of what had occurred filled her, obliterating the wonderful torpor she had luxuriated in after murdering the child molesters. "We killed them!"

"And Vanora saw."

Alisha was shocked to see tears swimming in Armando's golden eyes. The look of utter devastation on his face said it all. It took only a few seconds for Alisha to understand what had happened between him and her sister. "I'm so sorry."

"It doesn't matter now. She left. She's going to the airport."

"To go where?"

"Austin."

It made sense that Vanora would run to the only other family she had now that Roman and Alisha had let her down so catastrophically. "I have to talk to her!"

"Alisha, let her go," Armando urged.

"How can I? I love her!" Tears spilled down her face, leaving trails through the blood.

"Because you love her you must let her go. Do you want her to be a part of this?" Sweeping his eyes over the chaos that surrounded them, Armando made his point.

Alisha sobbed, shaking her head. There was glitter in the blood that covered every part of her body. "No, no."

"Me neither. Let her find her happiness." He sounded as miserable as Alisha felt.

"You love her."

A brief nod confirmed Alisha's suspicions.

"She loves you, you know."

"It doesn't matter now." Armando dragged Alisha to her feet. Gesturing toward Roman, he said, "You need to help him. He has to regain control of his vampires. Get this cleaned up and set straight. You only have each other now. He'll need you."

Alisha let out a hiccupping cry as that truth drilled into her soul and heart. "Oh, God, we fucked up so badly."

"Yes, yes, you did." He gently pressed her toward Roman.

Alisha gingerly stepped over the vampires, careful not to slip on the blood. She turned back to see if Armando was following, but he was gone.

"Shit. We fucked this party up," Sheila groaned nearby.

"Alisha," Roman said, reaching out to touch her arm. "Are you okay?"

"No," Alisha answered truthfully. She went into his arms, welcoming his fatherly embrace.

"I'm so sorry," Roman whispered in her ear. "I'll make this right."

"You can't, Roman," Alisha said, sniffling. "This time you can't."

Roman's stubbornness sparked in his eyes but was washed away by sorrow when he surveyed the room. "Maybe not."

"I'm sorry, Roman," Angel said as Alexander helped him to his feet. Yanking off his blood-soaked sequined glove, he tossed it away in disgust. "I got lost in it."

"We all did," Sheila muttered.

Alexander nodded, moving on to wake another vampire.

"Where's Armando?" Roman looked around the room for his friend.

Accepting a sticky hug from Sheila, Alisha answered, "He left. And I don't know if he's coming back."

"Why not?" Roman looked genuinely confused.

"Because we let him down and now Vanora is gone."

"I don't..." Roman finally seemed to grasp what he'd been missing for months. "But he's too old for her."

"It doesn't matter anymore. We have all lost her." Alisha felt fresh tears coming. "Vanora's gone." Staring across the bloody, ruined room Alisha felt a strange relief. "She's away from this hell like she should be."

# 48

Gladly falling into her seat next to a window, Vanora tucked her purse under it. Only a few more minutes until the plane took off and she'd escape Houston. It had been a nerve-wracking process getting through security and making it to the gate on time. She'd just made it as they were boarding her section. In a way, she was glad for the rush. There hadn't been time to sit and think about what she'd seen and what she had lost.

A peek at her phone told her that the plane would be taking off soon. She turned it off and stowed it in her jacket pocket. Nervous, her fingers plucked at the bracelet on her wrist. The awareness of what she was doing gradually bloomed and she ripped it off. The tiny moon and star charms glinted in the dim light of the cabin. Hastily, she shoved it into her purse. She wasn't certain what she'd do with it, but she couldn't stand to think of Armando. It was difficult enough to concentrate on just living from second to second without reflecting on the vampire. The ache between her legs and tender spots on her neck and breasts where his mouth had concentrated on making her writhe made her want to cry. She had been so happy, but so reckless.

At one point during her sprint to the gate, she had wondered if he would somehow find a way to say goodbye. He was always so adept at being mysterious. It had been part of what had drawn her to him. And now it was the monster within him that was driving her away.

_Vanora._

Startled, she swiftly looked about to see who had called her name, automatically seeking out the flight attendant. Was there something wrong with her last minute ticket? Everyone was busy finding their seats and stowing away their luggage and didn't seem the least bit interested in her. Vanora felt uneasy as the disquieting sensation of being watched washed over her. Sitting at the edge of her seat, she again searched the cabin, scared of what she might find.

_Here._

Then Vanora knew. Slowly, she turned her head and gazed out the oval window toward the tarmac. As she had feared, Armando stood there dressed all in black, his overcoat flapping in the wind like wings. Though she could clearly see him, the ground crew continued to work, oblivious of the vampire among them. Of course, Armando had abilities she wasn't even fully aware of. He'd entered her closed room earlier without any trouble.

"Go away," she whispered, knowing he'd hear her.

Armando's golden eyes felt like they were boring into her very soul.

_You don't deserve to live in our darkness. I was wrong to try to keep you here. Run, Vanora, run! Don't ever come back here again. Only Death exists here._

Intense chills raced through her body. On her lap, her hands trembled.

_Do you understand, Vanora? Do you hear me?_

"Yes," Vanora whispered.

Armando didn't seem satisfied, but he managed to smile faintly. _Find your happiness, Vanora._

Before she could respond, Armando's coat flared out above him, catching the wind, lifting him off the ground. The coat wrapped around him and he dissolved into the night sky.

Vanora felt incredibly tired and weak. Covered in gooseflesh and shivering, she curled up in her chair, resting her forehead against the window

_Never come back_ , she thought. _I don't ever intend to._

* * *

Roman shut the doors to the mausoleum and locked them. It felt like a desecration of his ancestors to once again hide the bodies of victims among their remains, but Roman had no other choice. Pocketing the heavy keys, he strolled across the vast lawn toward the mansion. On the back patio, near the pool, the heavy wrought iron and granite fire pit was filled with flames. Within the inferno, the last of the evidence of the blood feast slowly turned to ashes.

The vampires were gone now. Their fervent apologies and reaffirmations of their faith in him still echoed in his ears. Roman wondered if they could recover from what they had done and rebuild the solidarity of their vampire family.

Alisha's long white dress and heavy sweater flickered shades of orange and yellow in the firelight. Her blond hair was loose about her shoulders and she looked more human tonight than at any point since her death. An aftereffect of drinking human blood was a more robust appearance. It was ironic that when vampires were at their most inhumane, they appeared the most human.

When Roman reached her side, he slid an arm around her shoulders. She laid her head against his chest, her arm settling around his waist. They were all that remained of their family. Vanora was apart from them now.

"I was wrong," Roman said at last.

"You did your best."

"I tried to make everything right for all of us after we were transformed. I tried to force us all into a life that was no longer ours. I should have sent Vanora away to live with Uncle Nicolau."

"You did what you always do. Fix things and make it better for us. After Mom and Dad died, you were there, Roman. You held us, you wiped away our tears, you were more than a brother. You were our everything. We trust you because you never fail us."

"But I have. I remember how determined I was that being vampires would not alter our lives any more than it had to. I rushed us to a sense of normalcy without considering the true implications of what might happen." Roman held Alisha tighter, wanting desperately to protect her from the darkness that filled them both.

"You made it right for all of us for a very long time. We probably shouldn't have even done as well as we did for the last few years." Alisha sighed, closing her eyes. "You made us feel safe."

Watching the flames devour the last of the tablecloths and rags used to clean up the blood, Roman embraced his new truth. "This was inevitable."

Alisha nodded. "Yes."

"So now we continue on together."

"Yes."

"She was our light, Alisha."

"And now," Alisha said somberly, "We are alone in the dark."

# Epilogue

Sirens split the solace of the night inhabiting the sky over Paris. Somewhere, a fire burned out of control, flames, and smoke spiraling into the darkness. Armando hurried through the front doors of the tall building close to the Champs Elysee, the heavily armed werewolf guards in human form escorting him to the elevator. It was an old birdcage lift with an ornate design.

"The Master is waiting on the top floor," one of the guards said, sliding the gate shut.

Armando shifted on his feet to keep his balance as the elevator drew him upward past marble staircases and landings populated by vampires and werewolves celebrating their Master's latest triumph. He had arrived just as his Master had achieved yet another victory in his never-ending war.

The ornate iron cage rattled as it rose toward the top floors. Combing his hands through his curls, he hoped he looked presentable. It was always difficult to travel overseas. This time, he had resorted to traveling in a crate. It had not been particularly pleasant.

The lift arrived on the top floor, shuddering to a stop.

A petite blond girl with an angelic face but deadly eyes gripped the ornate gate that barred his exit. Snapping her sharp teeth at him playfully, she waggled her fingers. "I like you in a cage."

"Lorelei," he sneered.

"One day I'm going to have you in one. When he finally sees that you're nothing but a pathetic little man, I'll have you at my mercy."

Armando mocked her with a chortle.

Licking her fangs, her eyes regarded him with the flat expression of a Great White Shark.

"Open the gate, Lorelei. I'm expected."

"He's in a good mood. Lucky for you." Jerking the gate open, she stepped aside, her long white lace dress swirling around her ankles.

Armando had very little tolerance for his Master's right-hand. The disdain was mutual. He often caught her regarding him as though she were calculating how long she would have to torture him before he would beg for mercy.

The white marble floor was sticky with blackened blood and squished beneath his feet as he followed her into the penthouse. The blood belonged to vampires, therefore doing nothing to entice his hunger. Dozens of dying vampires were hung on butcher hooks, swaying from the ceiling. Viscera and limbs littered the floor. Lorelei lightly kicked them out of her way as she walked. As she passed one giant of a man, she reached into his chest and tore out several ribs. The vampire screamed in pain, which only brought a smile to her face.

"Utter defeat of the biggest coterie in France. It was delicious," she explained.

Entering an enormous circular room with a vaulted ceiling, Armando noted that all the murals and gilding had been painted over. His Master had an aversion to color. Abstract sculptures along with more classical representations of gods and goddesses lined the walls. White modern furniture mingled with antiques. A fountain with three tiers of maidens holding urns splashed in the center. Everything gleamed white in the glow of the bright lights except for the giant man standing on the balcony shrouded in darkness.

"Guess who's come slithering home?" Lorelei said by way of an announcement.

"My favorite son?" The Master's voice was deep, dark, and resonated with power.

Lorelei rolled her eyes and snarled slightly. "Yes. Armando."

"Thank you, Lorelei. You may leave us."

"Yes, Master." Lorelei turned to go.

"And Lorelei?"

"Yes, Master?"

"You're my favorite of all my children." The Master sounded amused.

Giving Armando a triumphant smile, she sauntered out of the room and shut the door behind her.

"Do you know why she is my favorite, Armando?"

"She's a psychopath?"

His Master laughed, the low tones rumbling through the room. Slowly swiveling about, the great vampire's lavender eyes glinted like amethysts in the white illumination of the room.

"Yes, there is that. But she doesn't fail me."

Hanging his head, Armando clasped his hands before him. "My apologies, Master."

"I don't like failure, Armando. I find it...distasteful."

Daring to lift his eyes, Armando saw the tall form of his vampire creator unfurl from the shadows. Well over six feet tall, the vampire resembled Michelangelo's David, exemplifying male perfection carved into white marble. Faint scars from the battles he fought as a mortal man covered his muscled body, adding to the illusion. His white hair fell in loose curls across his brow and was cut short to the nape of his neck. When at war, he always cut his long hair to avoid it being used against him in battle. Finely-chiseled features added to the vampire's beauty: from his sharp cheekbones to his stern brow. Clad in white leather pants, his feet were bare, but his arms were coated in thick, congealing blood from his fingertips to his elbows. It appeared he had plunged them into something, or someone.

The sight of him made Armando uneasy.

"What do you have to say for yourself?" The low timbre of the vampire's voice held a threatening note.

"I brought her picture."

"Ah!" The albino warrior of long ago approached Armando. "Show me."

Armando withdrew from the pocket of his long trench coat a photo he had taken from the Socoli Mansion.

Instantly, his Master's expression altered from annoyance to pleasure. "She _is_ beautiful." His bloodied fingers hovered over the image, but he didn't touch it. "My coloring, my eyes."

"It's fairly close, yes." Armando hated to concede that point. Even when he had first seen Vanora when she was a child, he had seen the similarity.

"And she's powerful." It wasn't a question, but more of a statement.

Armando gave a short nod. "Yes, Master. Very powerful and she has yet to reach her full potential."

Flashing sharp fangs that never retracted, his Master carried the photo across the room to study it under direct light. "I have waited an eternity for her. I'd almost given up hope that she'd ever be born, but now she's here. The other half of my soul. My destiny. My queen."

Uneasy, Armando said, "Yes, she is."

"And you let her slip away."

A sharp angry look sent tremors of fear through Armando. "She's hardly slipped away. She's in Austin, Texas. I have a team of private investigators watching her every move, night and day. You can be sent daily briefings on her actions if you should desire."

His Master looked impressed. "You anticipated my fury at your failure and took appropriate steps to pacify me. That's worthy of Lorelei's cleverness. See? I told you that you were the perfect one to handle this situation for me. Who else could I trust with the care of my future queen? Lorelei is difficult to control at times. But you! You love me, Armando. My favorite son, you always obey me and make me proud."

"Yet, I failed. I am prepared to stay at your side and do my penance." Armando dreaded to know what he would have to do for absolution.

The majestic vampire laughed, the menacing sound echoing throughout the room. "A minor setback. Go back to Houston. Help her brother pick up the pieces of his shattered pathetic existence. Mollify him."

Surprised at this edict, Armando dared to raise his head. "You want me to return?"

His Master continued to stare at Vanora's image, his bloodied hands careful to not stain it. "Though she is afraid right now, given time, she will do what all humans do. Rationalize the fear away and become complacent. She trusts you, doesn't she?"

The question hurt, but Armando slightly nodded. "To some degree."

"She had a schoolgirl crush on you, true?"

Armando nodded, pressing his lips together.

"I considered killing you because of that, but then I realized I'd rather her affections be directed at you than being sullied by a...human. Besides, I knew you would never return those affections, or touch her." The words were laced with a threat.

"She is yours. You are hers. It is only a matter of time before you are together." Armando's voice was devoid of the pain those words caused him.

The white vampire continued to stare at the photo. "Only a matter of time. Sadly, I'm not done here." A snarl twisted his lips. "The Seventh Sister eludes me, but I will find her. She barely escaped this time."

The sacrilege of his Master's words made Armando uneasy, but he did not allow himself to reveal his discomfort. The Seven Sisters were the first vampires and his Master had been waging an unholy war against them for thousands of years. Only one remained alive.

His Master set the photo aside before leaning over and washing away the blood coating his arms in the rushing water of the fountain. The clear water immediately turned dark red, spilling over the white marble.

"I'm not angry with you, Armando. You have confirmed that Vanora is the one I have waited for all these long years. To know that she exists comforts me, but it is not yet time for me to claim her. I must eliminate Parthenia and take her blood before I can be certain of my future queen's safety." Shaking his head angrily, he stood, water dripping from his hands. "I should have slaughtered all of them by now. Their reign is at an end. Mine and Vanora's will soon begin."

Lowering his eyes, Armando fought to keep his discomfort from being detected by the powerful creature before him.

"When the time is right, Armando, you will lure her back home. And then the Purge will begin." Slapping Armando's arm with one large, wet hand, his Master flashed a wide grin. "Well done, son."

"I serve you, Master," Armando said in a hushed tone.

Taking hold of Armando's shoulders, his Master gazed down at him. "Yes, you do. And unlike the rest of the sniveling morons out there, aside from Lorelei, I know you truly love me as your father. Therefore, from this time on, let it be known that you may call me by my true name. You have earned the honor."

"Thank you, Aeron."

Opening the doors to the hallway filled with blood, death, and gore, Aeron glanced back at Armando and gave him a dashing smile. "Besides, one day the whole world will tremble at the mention of my name when I ascend to my rightful position and Vanora will be at my side. And what a glorious night that will be." Signaling for Armando to follow, Aeron said, "Come! Let us celebrate!"

Armando glanced at the photo of Vanora Aeron had left on a table. The sight of her smile filled him with self-loathing.

_What have I done_ , he thought.

"Armando?"

"Coming, Aeron."

Armando turned and followed his Master.

* * *

_The story continues in book 2, Lost in the Night_

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# Also by Rhiannon Frater

**Rhiannon Frater writes in many genres across many different series! Click or tap on the banners below to find out more about each of her books!**

The morning that the world ends, Katie is getting ready for court and housewife Jenni is taking care of her family. Less than two hours later, they are fleeing for their lives from a zombie horde. Thrown together by circumstance, Jenni and Katie become a powerful zombie-killing partnership, mowing down zombies until they find sanctuary in a tiny, roughly fortified Texas town.

Mackenzie must face her worse fears after stumbling through a hidden doorway into the dead spots, where dreams become reality, terror knows your name, and nightmares can kill you. As the true horrors of the dead spots are slowly revealed, Mackenzie realizes that time is running out. But exits from the dead spots are nearly impossible to find, and defended by things almost beyond imagination.

"The Handmaiden's Tale Meets The Walking Dead"

Ilyse hides her growing power from the religious leaders that condemned her mother. If she's discovered, she'll lose her life. The arrival of a mysterious young man only complicates matters when his mere presence further awakens her powers and the realization that to survive she must escape the high walls of the Atonement Settlement.

Vanora is torn between the man she loves and the man who would destroy the world to claim her. Can she escape the power of an ancient prophecy, or will she succumb?

At the end of the world, The Bastion is humanity's only hope. The massive city shelters the last survivors from the Inferi Scourge howling outside its towering walls. Explore the last city of the living from its inception in Escape to the Last Bastion to the desperate missions in the sequels to reclaim what was lost when the world was overtaken from the dead.

Can a 12 year-old boy lead his friends to safety when zombies invade his school? A gripping horror tale for zombie fans of ALL AGES!

It is silence, not screams of terror, which proclaims the end of the world...

Minji Nordin is vacationing in Las Vegas with her small family when she witnesses the beginning of a terrifying apocalypse. When humanity is transformed into mindless drones by a horrific supernatural event only Minji appears to be immune and it's up to her to save her family and the world.

For best friends Christy and Adam—a witch and a gay young man—life hasn't been easy. To remedy this, Christy casts a love spell to try and bring Adam's true love. But has she brought Adam's first boyfriend to Trinity Springs, or a monster?

Amaliya is not your conventional heroine. But when a bastard kills her and buries her in a forest grave, she wakes with a serious case of "I need to kick some ass" along with a brand new lust for blood.

"Violence, sensuality, tense conflict and intense drama roll at full speed against the backdrop of romantic Old Europe from the first page to the very end. Frater's novel has managed to be almost everything to every vampire fan, a feat not easily pulled off." – Dark Markets review, The Tale of the Vampire Bride

# About the Author

Rhiannon Frater is the award-winning author of the As the World Dies zombie trilogy (Tor) as well as independent works such as The Last Bastion of the Living (declared the #1 Zombie Release of 2012 by Explorations Fantasy Blog and the #1 Zombie Novel of the Decade by B&N Book Blog). She was born and raised in Texas where she currently resides with her husband and furry children (a.k.a pets). She loves scary movies, sci-fi and horror shows, playing video games, cooking, dyeing her hair weird colors, and shopping for Betsey Johnson purses and shoes.

You can visit her online at

www.rhiannonfrater.com

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