In Darkness We Must Abide by Rhiannon Frater

 
    When I was a little girl I wanted to be normal. Though other little girls desired to be someone special like an adored fairytale princess or the latest pop star, I merely desired not to be set apart. Of course, my specialness wasn’t seen as something to be exalted, but a curse. I was teased without mercy, not only because of my albino appearance, but because of my adverse reaction to sunlight. I’d stand in the shadows of the playground wearing my sunglasses and watch the other children play. Their boisterous shouts, joyful laughter, and grandiose games filled me with longing.
    But I didn’t belong with them.
    I was alone.
    Every morning I’d wake up, run to my vanity and stare into the mirror hoping that my milky skin had taken on a deeper hue, that my white-blond hair had become golden like my sister’s, and that my lavender eyes had darkened to blue.
    Every morning I was bitterly disappointed.
    Upon reflection I can see now that it wasn’t just my looks that defined me as other. It was something else. Beneath the surface of my ivory skin, lurking behind my pale purple eyes, and tucked deep in the recesses of my soul was the secret that truly and completely set me apart. Whereas other little girls dream of being magical and special like the heroines in their novels, I am exactly that.
    I am magic.
    I am special.
    I am a being of prophecy.
    I am the chosen one.
    More than a millennia of magic created me.
    I am the sum total of a supernatural conspiracy.
    No wonder I have always stood apart.
    My life was never meant to be my own.
     
     
    “A penny for your thoughts?”
    Vanora maintained her attention squarely on the huddle of small houses sliding past the passenger window of the big truck. The headlights glinted off their darkened windows giving the eerie impression of glowing eyes whenever Greg directed the vehicle around a corner. She was bone weary and emotionally exhausted, yet it would be a long time before she could rest. The fast food she had eaten earlier sat like a hard, anxious lump in her stomach, but she was grateful that Armando had insisted that she eat. Normal daily luxuries like meals, clean clothes, and sleep already seemed like a distant memory. The Socoli Mansion was gone, burned to the ground with nearly all her possessions within it and possibly her beloved sister. All that remained of her life was in the big purse slung across her torso and resting on her lap. She cradled it in her arms, holding it protectively. That action kept her magically shimmering hands from shaking too much.
    “How about a nickel for your thoughts? Or do I need to up it to a quarter?” Greg cast a creepy smirk in Vanora’s direction that she caught out of the corner of her eye. “C’mon. Talk to me. It’s weird with you sitting there all sullen and ghostly.”
    “Fuck you,” Vanora said darkly.
    “Many have,” Greg replied. There was a long pause, then he added, “Okay, okay. Sorry about the albino crack. It comes naturally after dealing with Aeron the White and Assholish for so long.”
    Sighing, Vanora finally regarded the incubus. He looked a little rough around the edges with his dark red hair mussed up and his face a bit ruddier than before. Cocking her head, Vanora also noted that his features looked just a little off in a way that reminded her of the wax figures in Madame Tussauds where the resemblance was just a little skewed. Uneasily, she wondered if his human appearance was just a facade and if something much more frightening lurked beneath the pudgy face and broad smile. 
    “Forgiven?”
    Vanora incredulously stared at the incubus. Did he really expect her to play nice with him? He’d admitted that he had ulterior motives for rescuing her. “How did you know Aeron was going to Carlotta’s?”
    “The fucker came by the club as I was getting ready to bail town. He killed my girls and made a real nasty mess. Unfortunately, one of my girls thought she could bargain with him by giving him