by KD Jones
“Who have we here?” the man’s voice was deep, and it brought a shiver to Drannon’s spine as it reverberated in the foyer and on down the wide hallway.
“This is Drannon.” Danica answered, patting his shoulder hard enough that he had to take another step further into the house. “Drannon, this is Abraham Crawley. He owns the ranch, and he and his wife will be your guardians until we find you a permanent place to stay.”
“Drannon?” Abraham’s eyebrow rose. “Strong name. Do you have a last name, son?”
His throat was drier than the desert, but he managed to force out a reply. “R-Ru-Russo.”
“Drannon Russo, yes sir, that’s a strong name. Italian last name, I believe. Tell me son, do you have a strong backbone to match that name?” Abraham looked him over as if he was measuring up a man his own size, and Drannon felt his chest puff out in an attempt to live up to the other man’s estimation of him.
“Y-yes s-sir.” He said, grimacing at the repetitive sounds. Over the last couple of years he’d managed to get a handle on his stuttering, but the moment he found his mother sprawled out on the bathroom floor with her face covered in her own vomit, he lost all control over his own tongue.
Like Danica, Abraham didn’t react to the stuttering, and Drannon breathed a sigh of relief. It was hard enough to speak to adults, much less disappoint them when they heard him slip up. He realized Danica was talking to Abraham and tuned back in to the conversation. “…release the body from the coroner’s office tomorrow. So far we haven’t located any living relatives.”
A soft voice tinkled from behind where Abraham’s broad shoulders blocked the opening from the foyer into the rest of the house, “So sad. I’m sure she was way too young. Well, anyways, it’s lovely to meet you, Drannon, no matter the circumstances.”
For the first time, Drannon noticed a petite woman with braided brunette hair standing just behind Abraham. The way she slid under his arm against his side, assured Drannon that she was the lady of the house, and he nodded his thanks to her without speaking.
“Drannon, I’d like you to meet my wife, Seraphina Crawley.” Abraham looked down at the smiling woman with pride. For just a moment, Drannon felt envious of Seraphina. What would it be like to have such a strong man look at him with pride? He couldn’t remember his mother looking at him with anything but affection and obligation. Although he knew she loved him, he’d always come second to her addiction.
“Call me Sera; only Abe gets away with using my whole name.” Sera’s eyes were dark chocolate brown, and her kind smile radiated warmth. Drannon’s heart flip-flopped and he fell half in love with her in that moment. “Have you eaten yet?”
“We stopped and ate a burger on our way out here. Unfortunately he’s been stuck at the hospital most of the day. I was in court or I’d have picked him up earlier. I didn’t get the message about his m—er…situation, until after seven.” Danica gave him a smile he figured was supposed to be apologetic, but really held only pity. He hated pity. Thankfully there was no pity in the sympathetic gazes Sera and Abe turned on him.
“Poor thing. I’m glad you’ve got a full belly. That will make it a little bit easier to rest tonight. Come on upstairs and I’ll show you where you’ll be sleeping. We only have one other boy here right now, and he’s in the room across from yours. You’re lucky it’s a quiet time. We’ve had up to fourteen children here at one time.” Without a backwards glance at Danica, Drannon followed the chattering Sera farther into the house and up a wide staircase that split the living room in two. It was an enormous house from the looks of it, but it felt warm and cozy in spite of its size.
At the top of the stairs she turned and led him to a set of closed doors. Opening the one on the left, she stepped aside for Drannon to enter first. The bedroom was larger than the apartment he’d been living in with his mother, and the bedding covering the massive wood framed bed looked clean and fresh. A thick blue comforter covered the mattress, and a chest of drawers taller than he was, was tucked into the corner. Heavy-looking blue curtains hung over a window opposite the bed, and the whole room smelled like cedar.
“This is going to be your room; we call it the blue room for obvious reasons. The other young man we have staying with us, Vinnie, is across the hall, you’ll meet him at breakfast in the morning. He’s been here a while now, so he can show you the ropes. Abe and I are through those double doors at the end of this hall, and there’s a bathroom right here,” Sera gestured just down the hallway, “You and Vinnie will have to share it, and I don’t tolerate fighting, so make sure you get along. You’re welcome to use anything you find in the medicine cabinet and linen cupboard, but if you need anything else, you just holler.”
Drannon’s head was spinning. He’d gone from a crack house to a mansion in a day, and somehow, even though he’d lost everything, he couldn’t feel the sadness anymore. He wanted to feel sad about his mom. He was going to miss her, but he wasn’t going to miss cold nights on the dirty floor while she was tucked away with someone in the only bedroom. And he wasn’t going to miss racing to school in the mornings so that he could arrive in time for breakfast because it was the only food he was going to get before class.
Turning back to Sera, he surprised himself when genuine emotion boiled up and his eyes stung, “T-thank y-you, Miss Sera.”
“You’re welcome, Drannon. This is your home for as long as you need it, and we’re glad to have you here. Now, make yourself comfortable. I’ll grab you some clothes to sleep in, and if you’ll leave your dirty clothes in the laundry hamper tonight, Marilyn will make sure they get washed for you.” She bustled into the bathroom, and Drannon followed just far enough to keep his eyes locked on her. He had no idea who Marilyn was, but he didn’t really care either. All that he wanted now was to crawl into that big bed, and sleep until he could put this whole nightmarish day behind him.
Sera pulled a brand new toothbrush and toothpaste out of the cabinet behind the mirror in the bathroom, and laid them on the counter. Next came a bar of soap, a washcloth, and a towel. “Do you need help taking a bath, Drannon?” she asked, with a look of concern on her face. He didn’t like it when she frowned like that. It made her forehead wrinkle, and she was much prettier smiling.
“N-no ma’am. I c-c-can do it.”
Her smile of approval nearly blinded him, “Good. I figured at eight years old you were probably well on your way to taking care of yourself, but like I told you, if you need anything at all, Drannon, just come find me. Okay?”
They watched each other, she with rapt curiosity on her face, and he with wary reservation and admiration for the tiny woman in front of him. He wondered why she was being so nice to him. They were strangers, but she was treating him like family. When her face fell into a sad frown he realized he’d voiced his thoughts, and he immediately took a hesitant step backwards when her hands reached to embrace him.
“You poor dear. I’m so sorry for what you’ve been through today. No one should have to go through that.” Her genuine concern stole his breath and cracked the shield he’d been holding over his emotions all day long. Tears filled his eyes, and his lungs burned as he panted for air. “It’s okay, let it out. Cry all you need to. There’s no shame in crying when the tears are for someone you love.”
The validation meant everything to him, but he couldn’t find it in him to respond verbally so he just nodded mutely, and wept against her shoulder. All of the fear and sorrow from the day seemed to leak out of him rolling down his cheeks and soaking into her blouse. When his sobs finally subsided and he was left hiccupping and wiping his snotty nose on his hand, she finally released him.
“There now. You’ve got that all out of your system, and now you’ll sleep better.” Tenderly pushing his shaggy hair from his eyes, she brushed her lips across his forehead. “We’ll talk when you’re ready, but tonight you need to rest. Sleep well, Drannon.”
Silently, he watched as she headed off down the hall, turning at the top of the stairs and disapp
earing from sight. He stood dumbly for several minutes in the doorway of the blue room, taking in his temporary home with a hint of envy for the people who lived here permanently. He assumed by the way Danica spoke it was unlikely he’d be here long, but he was going to take advantage of the luxury while he could. After all, it wasn’t like his mother was going to come back to life and scold him for indulging in a bath with real soap.
If he was going to be on his own for the rest of his life, he was going to take advantage of every possible good thing that came along and relish in it while he could. Who knew what kind of home permanent Danica would find for him? For this brief moment, he was safe, surrounded by warmth and people who genuinely cared about his feelings, and that was all he’d ever wanted.
A door opened and closed downstairs, startling Drannon from his reminiscing, and he shook off the lump of emotion in his throat. Abe and Sera became his salvation as he grew into a temperamental young man with an ax to grind. They’d just as easily been his cheerleaders when he finally realized no one owed him anything and he’d have to go out and work for his future. He invested his energies in a career that turned sour on him, and eight years ago, he came home from the big city with his tail between his legs, and found his heart back home on the ranch.
He and his three closest foster brothers, Roman, Vin, and Hawke had bought the ranch off Abe and turned the main house and most of the cabins into a guest ranch. Of course it was Marilyn who ran the guest side of things, while the boys took care of the ranch. It turned out to be a great investment, and a timely one considering Sera died a couple of years later, and the fire inside Abe fizzled.
Now that both Crawleys were gone, the big house seemed cold and empty most days, even when it was full of guests or ranch hands. Skimming his hand up the wide oak banister, Drannon remembered sliding down it on his rump and getting scolded over and over by Sera, who always did it with a smile on her face. He remembered garland wrapped around it with twinkling lights encircling the posts, and the smell of pies and Christmas cookies. This Christmas Marilyn had put up the tree alone, and the tree skirt had remained empty since the boys decided not to bother exchanging gifts with each other. Maybe it wasn’t just Abe who lost his heart when Sera died. The whole of Crawley Creek Ranch seemed to have lost its sparkle.
Pushing aside his sad thoughts, and longing for the old days, Drannon went back to bed already listing in his head the multitude of chores that needed to be done when the sun rose.
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Are you into Menage?
What about paranormal romance?
How about both?
Check out author Bryce Evans and you won’t be sorry.
Destiny of Three
By Bryce Evans
Chapter 1
“Do you know who I am?”
Sullivan Grayson looked at the man in the black robe and shrugged.
“I don’t care. Your name isn’t important, only your money. If I do this and you don’t pay me, then you’ll know who I am. You get me?” Sullivan spit at the ground, inches from the man’s shoes, then wanted to jump back when his eyes turned so red they almost glowed.
He knew who the man was, but it didn’t matter. What mattered was the difference this money could make in saving the lives of thousands of his people.
“Ahh, I see. You only want the money. That’s good. Well now, let’s get started.” The man walked over to his vehicle as he spoke. “My name is Regis Yulson, and I’m a collector, of sorts. I collect many things, but right now I’m looking for something that many before you couldn’t find. I don’t believe in beating around the bush, so I’ll get right to it: I’m looking for the Powerful Three.”
Sullivan snorted and scrubbed his hand over his face. “You and everyone else in the world.” He could sense the dread coming on again. He’d been feeling it ever since he got the message from Mac that someone wanted to hire him. “I’ve heard about the Powerful Three ever since I was a pup, and still nobody knows who they are or where they are. No one knows if they’ve even been born yet!”
Regis laughed at his answer, and it gave Sullivan a prickling sensation all over his body. He’d heard about Regis Yulson and his quest to possess every supernatural artifact ever known. From what he’d heard, the vampire had a very nice collection. Rumor had it that he’d found the Seal of Solomon, which was sought after by every tomb raider. If that was true, it made him a very dangerous vampire. This man was also a historian, so it made sense that he would know all about the talisman, and what little was known of the Powerful Three. But why hadn’t he looked for them himself?
“I understand you’re a tomb raider and a respected tracker.” Regis’s black eyes sparkled as he added, “They say you can track and find anyone, and I’m looking for three particular people.”
“I don’t mind taking your money, Mr. Yulson, but it would be like looking for a needle in a haystack. As I said before, nobody knows if the Powerful Three have even been born yet, or if they’re men or women. I don’t think I can be of any use to you.” Sullivan started to walk off.
“But you see, I do have an idea where they are,” Regis interrupted, his voice intense.
Sullivan stopped in his tracks and dropped his head. He knew he should’ve told Mac that he was taking a vacation, but the money had been too good to pass up.
Sullivan turned around and faced the vampire. “You know where the Powerful Three are?” His voice was mild, and he hated that he couldn’t hide his curiosity. This man would pounce on it if he showed how much he was interested in folklore. This was the kind of thing that the Elders in his old pack would teach the pups. He’d sit and listen, while his friends snuck out every chance they got. Not him — he would rummage through all the old scrolls his grandmother had and read every myth that had been written down.
“I’m a Seer, Mr. Grayson, and I have seen the Powerful Three. I need to know now if you will take this job. I don’t need to waste my time if you’re not interested, but if you are I will give you half the money up front, and the other half when you locate them. All I need for you to do is find them, and I will do the rest. Do we have a deal?” Regis asked.
According to Mac, the man was going to give him one million dollars if he found the Powerful Three, and he would pay all his expenses as well. That was too much money to turn down. He could retire after this, which would allow him time to finish writing down all the myths and folklores that were known about paranormals, something no one had ever attempted before. Putting all of them in one place would finally allow people to determine what was myth and what was true, and might help them to cure some of the diseases that were plaguing their people. The lives of his people depended on him getting this money. His only concern was why Yulson wanted him to find the Powerful Three. What did he want with them?
“You only want me to locate them and then tell you where they are?” Sullivan asked curiously.
“Yes, that is all I want you to do.”
Yulson gave him the creeps. He’d befriended many vampires over the years, but none had been as large as Regis, who stood six feet, five inches tall. He had Roman features, with an aquiline nose and olive skin, and gave off a magical aura that worried Sullivan. The rumor was that Regis wasn’t a born vampire, but had been granted life by the King of Vampires when he’d saved a friend’s life.
But if he was so powerful, why didn’t Regis look for the Powerful Three himself?
“Why don’t you find them? Obviously you have the resources and money,” Sullivan asked, but the vampire ignored him. Something didn’t feel right about this. His wolf was telling him to leave now. Accepting this deal was a mistake.
Apparently Regis knew he was about to turn him down, and sweetened the deal. “If you take this job, I’ll give you an extra five hundred thousand dollars. That will give you one point five m
illion dollars, Mr. Grayson.”
Sullivan closed his eyes and smiled. He stuck his hand out to shake on it, not realizing that he’d just made a deal with the devil. “I’m in, Mr. Yulson.”
Before Sullivan could pull his hand back, Yulson turned it palm up and bit down into his wrist. Sullivan tried to knock the vampire off, but Yulson’s guards grabbed and held him while Regis sucked his blood. He couldn’t move as the vampire drained him; the wolf in him wanted to rush forward, but he was too weak from the blood loss to shift.
Sullivan could feel his legs wobbling when Yulson let his hand go, jerking his teeth from his wrist. “When you make a deal with me, Mr. Grayson, you do it in blood. Your blood.”
He was too shaken to resist as Yulson pulled him closer and whispered in his ear, “When the Powerful Three came to me in my visions, I couldn’t see their faces, but I could tell they were two women and a man. They live together somewhere where it snows. I saw them playing in the snow together, with a beautiful log cabin behind them. Whoever built the cabin has a lot of money; it was one of the most luxurious cabins I’ve ever seen. The rock pillars had to be brought in. It must be a billionaire’s home. That’s all I know.”
Regis started to walk off. His guards still had ahold of Sullivan as his eyes tried to focus. The vampire had taken a lot of his blood. Yulson stopped and turned back around, blood still dripping from his teeth and mouth. “The first half of your money is in your vehicle. Don’t disappoint me, Mr. Grayson, or this will be your last adventure.”
Sullivan rose up, trying to get his eyes to open. He looked around. He was sitting in the driver’s seat of his truck, freezing cold; apparently the guards had put him in there when he passed out. His eyes felt foggy as he blinked them several times, trying to remain conscious.
Sitting beside him was a black suitcase and some granola bars. A gallon of orange juice accompanied the food. He grabbed it, first hoping it would clear his head. Sullivan turned the bottle up, drinking the whole container as his eyes finally started to focus.