Read Online In Darkness We Must Abide: The Complete First Season: Episodes 1-5 by Rhiannon Frater - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Rhiannon Frater
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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.
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 within 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 upon 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 never would 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
“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.
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 within 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 upon 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 never would 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
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