The Fallen King

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

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

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

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