There wasn’t any creaking sound when he walked up onto the porch. He was excited to see what had been left behind when the house was vacated. The artist in him thought of all sorts of reasons why one would leave a house like this one. But as soon as he entered the big house, all thoughts of the people that had lived here and left it were gone.
“Good Christ almighty.”
The first thing he saw was the old oak staircase, with another one on the other side of the room. They met in the middle of the second floor, where another stained glass window looked out over the back yard, he’d bet.
To his left as he walked in, the pocket doors had been closed, so he pushed them back out of his way. They moved easily, and were not warped or painted. The room held a fireplace that wasn’t all that big, but the mantel would hold numerous pictures. Above the fireplace was a picture of the house when it was in all its glory. The chairs were covered in some sort of cloth, while the curtains were in bad shape and hung from the wooden rods like a beautiful dresses falling off a hanger.
Wandering into the hall again, skipping some of the rooms in favor of looking around, he saw the old grandfather clock. It was still now; he supposed it had stopped moving when there was no more heartbeat in the house. Sad, he thought, that no one depended on it to tell them when to eat or go to bed. Touching the painted glass, he wasn’t surprised to find it was dusty, yet still shone in the light coming from the front windows.
The kitchen was in the back, behind what he supposed had been the parlor. It was huge too, taking up the rear of the house like it had been made to feed hundreds of people at one time. One of the staircases in there led upward to the upper floors, and while the other one went down through a flat door in the floor. The things left behind here were also a marvel for him. Things that he’d seen as he was growing up, other things that a person growing up in the time period would have wanted for his own home. Harley laughed when he saw that the dishes, all stacked up in the cabinets, were in good shape. The water pump had been painted a dark blue at one point, and he loved it.
The next room was the dining room. The table was there, but no chairs were waiting around the table to be used. The corner cabinets were filled with dishes, and what he thought had been expensive glasses that he admired for their beauty and function.
The chairs, six on both sides of the room, were hung from pegs on the walls. Across each of them was a leaf for the table. The table was about six feet by four feet now. With the foot wide leaves, he could see his growing family sitting around it. There was a fireplace in this room as well, about the same size as the one in the parlor.
Harley made his way to the second floor, mindful of the creaking stairs, but also loving the spindles that were handmade, and the beautiful woodwork on the bannister. Getting to the landing where the large stain glass window was, he could see out the back but couldn’t make things out very well.
The second floor was bedrooms, and one bathroom. Six bedrooms, three on each side, shared the single toilet. The tub, copper, sat on a small heater, and he wondered at the heat of the tub when it was set to heat up.
Looking into each of the bedrooms, he realized that he’d made a mistake about them. There were only two on each side, with one at the end. This one, he thought as he entered it, was the master bedroom. A smallish room was off to the left with a single window in it, and he thought this room was the nursery, but then found a room that was filled with baby things a few minutes later. The other, he thought, was the maid’s room, for both the woman of the house as well as the child.
The other bedrooms were furnished with what the master had in it—a bed, a tall boy, as well as a dresser. Each of the rooms had a closet, but they were very small, only holding a few items that might be considered nice and would fit there. The closets were empty except for the cedar floors and walls, which would have kept the moths from eating away at whatever had been put inside.
Going down the stairs on the other side, he found the living room—or he supposed it would be called the sitting room. It contained an ugly, dark blood colored couch, a desk that he loved, as well as a rocking chair and a few other pieces.
All the furniture was of good quality. If he didn’t miss his bet, all of it had been handmade right there on the property. Plenty of trees stood tall and wide in the back of the house, and he thought they might even be second growth.
Iron chairs and a table occupied what had once been a decking of sorts. A fallen tree had taken out most of the wood there. Once it had been exposed to the elements, it didn’t take long for it to rot away and for bugs to take advantage of it. Thankfully, none of the windows had been broken by the tree, so everything in the house had stayed safe.
After walking around in the back yard, he found an old garden, an herb garden, as well as a small orchard that held apples. There was a grape arbor too, but it had overgrown on itself, as well as the bigger trees cutting off the sunlight to it. Harley decided as he sat down on the ground to enjoy one of the fruits that he wanted to live here.
Harper, are you busy? She said she was in the dark room but otherwise not busy. I found a house back here.
You can have it. He laughed so that she could hear him. I have to tell you, Harley, we’re overwhelmed here with houses that pop out of nowhere. Garages filled with shit I don’t know what to do with, as well as I’m to find my aunt, brothers, and sister a home to live in. What kind of house is it? And I was telling you the truth, you can have it.
It’s very old. And beautiful. With a little love and some money, I think it would be a grand house like it was at one time. She asked him if he was up to it. Yes, I think I am. There is a great deal of furniture left behind that I can see being restored and used again. I really do want to buy this off of you and Bryant.
Are there five bedrooms, Harley? He said that there were. Okay, I don’t know where you are in relation to the house, but on the front of it, near a stone fence, there will be a marker. All it has on it is the letter P. Can you see if that’s it?
He did what she asked and found the letter. He knew it didn’t belong to her and that he was going to lose out on the deal of a lifetime. Even if she wanted millions for the house, it was something that he would have gladly paid to live here.
That does belong to us. Harley let out a long breath that he’d been holding. The last name of the people that lived there at one time was...let me think. Parkerson. It was called the Parkerson Mansion. The paperwork said that the missus died, who had been the only one that had been nice to people, and the husband was run out of town. Something about spoiling young ladies. I’m assuming he might have raped them or something. Anyway, it was left unsold for many years while the courts looked for any children. There were two born to the Parkerson family, but neither of them lived past their twentieth year. If you’re wondering how I know this, it’s because when we got the specs on the land that my parents owned, that was mentioned. There is also a barn there.
I found the barn, but nothing else so far. I’m serious about buying it off of you guys. I really want this. She told him it was his. No, I can’t do that, honey. This is a find for me, and I want to pay you for it.
What you want to do is shut up and take the fucking house. He waited for her to continue, not sure of her mood. Please take the house. It really will take some of this off our shoulders before I pack Bryant and me up and head back to the island. We sold the house that belonged to Mark for whatever Marcus had in his pockets. Just the change, if you’re persistent on buying it. But I can gift it to you, as I want to, so that neither of us are in trouble with the IRS.
All right, I’ll take it. Only if you promise me that you’ll come out here and have a couple of holidays with me. Harley noticed the swarm coming toward him, and looked around for someplace to hide. Whatever they were, they were coming in fast. I have to go. Something has come out of the woods after me.
Harley just stopped short of swatting at the bugs when he realized that it was a group of faeries. He’d been
so terrified that he had to sit down on the steps that led up to the house and breathe deeply for several minutes. The faerie that sat on his leg, Toad he said his name was, told him how sorry he was.
“It’s all right. I just wasn’t expecting anyone. What is it I can do for you, Toad?” He grinned, and Harley had another moment of fear. He’d never seen a faerie this close up, and was startled by his sharp teeth. “Am I in trouble?”
“No, my lord, never that. We’ve come to make the house beautiful again. When we heard that you had taken it, we were beside ourselves to come and fix it up. The lady of the house, Lady Parkinson, was so good to us all. Why, she’d lay out sugar cubes for us to nibble on when it was snowing, and grew the most beautiful roses and other flowers just for us. Of course, now that is all gone to sleep, but we’re here to fix you right up. How do you want it to look?”
Harley didn’t know what to think. But telling them that there was a picture on the front mantle that he wanted to have it look like had that little man grinning again. This time Toad seemed to be careful of not showing too many teeth.
“I’d like to bring all the furniture back too. Do you happen to know how to do that?” He nodded. “All right, you give me the name and I’ll take care of it. All right?”
Instead of answering him, Toad laughed and flew away. Harley sat there for several minutes, thinking about how much work he was going to have to do before he could even live in the place. Then there was making himself a driveway to get back here. While trekking in the woods was fun in the summer months, he didn’t relish doing it in the winter. Getting up, he turned to look where to start.
“Mother Mary and Joseph.”
Chapter 13
Samson was standing in line at the bank. He didn’t care for banking at all. He’d been around when the crash occurred, and being in banks was dangerous to your very life. Keeping an eye out for anything, he moved up one step, and the woman in front of him turned and glared.
He’d not touched her, not even to step on the heel of her shoe. But he told her he was sorry and that he’d be more careful next time. Samson did notice that she was carrying a bundle, and wondered if he’d ever be a father. Not now, of course—he had to find a mate first. His mind did slide to Bryant being a father.
“Excuse me.” He looked at the woman and the few feet between them. “Could you please stop breathing down my neck?”
Her voice was loud, and Samson was embarrassed. He looked around and saw that she had caused the other patrons to turn and look at them. After his face heated up, his anger was right there on the surface. The cat within him got pissy too.
“I’m sorry, miss, but I don’t think you have the right of it. I’m a few feet from you, and I’ve not been breathing anywhere on your person.” People snickered, and Samson held tighter onto his temper. “I’m sorry that you feel that way, but I’m not bothering you.”
It took his befuddled mind almost too long to realize what was happening. The woman dropped the cloth that had been in her arms, the one that he had mistaken for a baby, and held a gun right to his chest. He might be an immortal, but it would still hurt like hell to be shot in the chest at this range.
Firing it once into the ceiling, she screamed for everyone to get down. Two more people that had been in line with them, both males, pulled out weapons too, larger assault rifles. If he got out of this, he wanted to remember each and every one of them. But right now, Samson wanted to help, to tear the people robbing the bank up. But he’d be shot before he could shift.
He had to think of a plan to get everyone out of here safely. Samson gave two shits about the robbers. There were a great many ways to make money that didn’t involve pointing a gun in someone’s face. Samson was thinking that he had to act now before they got all jittery when the woman poked him in the chest again.
“What are you looking at, mother fucker?” He cocked a brow at the woman, who was about two feet shorter than him and weighed less than his boots, he thought. “You think you’re so high and mighty, don’t you? Well, I fucking hate men like you. So I think you’re going to be the first to die.”
“Really? I don’t think so.” He looked around at her two partners. They were both close enough that he could get to them as his tiger and not let them hurt anyone. The woman was in front of him, but if he leapt and shifted at the same time, he might get hurt, but she’d be dead.
“What if I told you that I was going to kill you. And your partners.”
“I’d say that you’re all fucked up in the mind.” Samson asked her if she liked that word. “Which one? Fuck? What, are you a prude or something? Yeah, as a matter of fact, I do fucking like to fucking use it. Does it bother you?”
“No. But I will tell you that it shows that you are of lower intelligence, and that you have to resort to rudeness to make people believe that you’re something that you strive so hard to be.” She asked him what that might be. “A human being. I’ve decided that you’re not. Not at all. A monster? More than likely. Especially if you follow through on killing us all. A careless bitch that doesn’t care who sees the work she’s done and looks right at the cameras every chance she gets—you’re that all right. What else?”
“Don’t you have any idea who it is you’re talking to, fucker? I’m Lisa Dawn. My brothers and I have been robbing banks for five years, and nobody has even come close to catching us.” The guns went off again, and he realized that he might have heard of them, but he wasn’t sure. “Am I striking you with fear, mother fucker?”
“Striking me? That’s not the proper way to say that, Lisa. It’s ‘Am I striking fear in your heart?’ Not that I believe you have one. Or, ‘Do I look stricken with fear?’ Which, by the way, you really should be.” She pointed out again that she was Lisa Dawn. “So? I’m Samson Prince. Things like I’ve determined you are don’t scare me at all. Only in that if you were to breed, then I’d be terrified of what sort of thing you’d spawn. By the way, are you by chance sleeping with one or both of your brothers? That would be even more terrifying.”
The gun butt hit him in the chin. Samson was a big man, as she’d pointed out to him, so it only cocked his head to the right. Taking advantage of the gun no longer pointing at his chest, he let his hand morph before he shifted, and swiped at Lisa Dawn’s throat before leaping onto the other two.
The first one went down quickly. Samson had hit him right in the middle of his chest and heard the gun go off. The sting of something hitting him in the shoulder just pissed him off. His cat wanted to kill, knowing that if he didn’t act fast, someone might get hurt. Samson didn’t want it to be him, if at all possible.
The second man had started running—just what his cat wanted…to play. As he jumped over the counter at him, another shot went off and he felt this one hit him as well. Running the man down but not killing him, he held him with his paw on his chest as he looked down at the man.
He couldn’t have been any more than fifteen years old, if that. Samson remembered something that his mom used to say about having just enough whiskers to have a cat lick them off. This wasn’t even possible with this child. He held him there as the air around him was permeated with the smell of hot, fear filled urine.
“Samson?” He didn’t move as he held the boy down. He’d been thinking of his own wounds that were making him a little weak. When he heard his name again, he growled at his pops before telling him to go away. “I can’t do that, son. The police are here, and they want you to take off before they come in. Said that the newspapers caught wind of this group being in town.”
They were going to kill us all. Pops said that he knew that too. He knew just who they were. This is just a kid, Pops. He no more needed to be here than any of these people did to be shot.
“Yes, I know that too, son. But he’s got himself a long list of murders. This boy killed his mom and pop about a year ago, when they wouldn’t allow him to quit school and join his sister and brother on the road. We might not ever know what they needed to do this for, b
ut that’s not our decision. You go on out the back way. Kylan is out there waiting on you. He’s got you some food and water, as well as his truck. You go now, Samson. Saving these people was a good thing you did. But it isn’t any reason for you to get yourself into trouble with the bad guys. And once you’re healed no one will be the wiser.”
Letting the kid go, but not before licking his face, he told his pops to tell the kid what he said. That he knew him now, and if he was to escape, he would be as dead as his sister. Samson went out the back way of the bank, and was surrounded by the police before his mom came to rescue him. Kylan met him and they headed to the truck, but Samson decided he needed something, a little run.
“I understand that, Samson, but you be careful. The police know you and us, but they’re a little on edge. These people were wanted by the FBI, and you took them out. I hope you don’t mind, but Pops is going to tell the police that they were the ones that saved them people just to keep you safe. No one in the bank will say any different.”
Samson told his brother he didn’t care and took off toward the woods.
The need to sweat the smell of the dead off of him was beating at him. His cat, normally so calm, wanted to go back and kill again. But they both knew that it was over for them, and that everything was fine now. Running to the little creek that ran through Bryant’s property, just for a place to head, he found the dam.
It had been built with the intentions of never coming apart. What he saw there was human waste—that someone, in their own greed, had killed off the animals that now lay by the lower part of the dam, dead. Beavers and other animals depended on the running water, and he knew that the Wilsons had taken great pride in putting the sucker up. Well, it was time to take it down.
It took him nearly an hour to break away one part of it with his hands after he’d shifted. Picking up heavier stones that he used as hammers was easier for him than it would have been for a human. By the time his brothers showed up with a pair of swimming trunks for him, he was ready to call it a day. But it needed to be done, and with the extra help, they would do it sooner.
Bryant: Prince of Tigers – Paranormal Tiger Shifter Romance Page 16