Sean: The Sons of Crosby: Vampire Paranormal Romance

by Kathi S. Barton

  When the computer was finished being set up, Uncle Grayson showed him how to scan the pictures into the computer. He told him that way, he could add them or take them off his book as he went. He also suggested that he put the information on the back of the photos into the computer so he could refer back to it.

  “You talked to Ryan; I know that. But I’d send him the pictures so that he will have them as well. Backing up things is the most important thing you can do with this information you’re going to be using. Also, I’ve set you up with an external drive to save things on. The computer will automatically send things to your computer, the external drive, as well as the thumb drive you can carry around with you if you go on vacation or something. You’ll only need to plug it into your laptop or whatever you’re working on away from home, and you’ll be set. All right?”

  “I love you, Uncle Grayson.”

  Grayson hugged him, telling him how much he loved him as well. When they parted, the big vampire got down to his level.

  “You’re my hero, Jon. I’ve never said that to anyone in my life, but that’s what you are to me. Both you and your sister are still alive simply because of you.” Jon told him it was both of them. “No. I don’t think so. You are the bravest man I know. My heart will always have a space for you in it because of what you’ve done so that the two of you are here with us now.”

  Jon went to bed that night with a light heart. Things were looking up for them. He and his sister not only had a good place to call home, but they also had people that loved him, a feeling he returned to them. Yes, Jon thought, I’m going to be just fine and dandy, as Grandda said all the time to him.

  Chapter 10

  Harlan Windbreak didn’t have any idea where he was. For that matter, he didn’t know how he’d gotten there or what the fuck was wrong with his body. He knew he was chained up. Knew too that he’d been beaten up. The whys were just too many for him to figure out.

  The pain in his head was making him too sick to look around much. There was a sound off in the distance that made him think of living in the state houses when he was just a kid. Smiling just a little, he knew that whatever reason he’d been put here, he’d be able to get himself out of it in a quick hurry. Growing up the way he had, it sure did teach a person how to keep themselves from being too hurt. Being chained up wasn’t anything that was going to slow him down.

  The movement just beyond what he could see clearly made him squint. Harlan wasn’t sure if it was his head playing tricks on him or just the movement of a rat or something. He’d seen a few of them since he’d woke up. One of the nasty fuckers had been licking the blood off his fingers before he’d scared it away.

  Bits and pieces of what happened last night had him wincing in pain. A man and a woman had tried to roll him—or at least that was what he thought they’d been doing. Usually, that didn’t entail a person being chained up. They’d usually just take whatever valuables a person had and move on after beating the shit out of them.

  The sound, like a scraping sound, had him looking hard again. There was something running down his head into his left eye, and he hoped it was just sweat. Harlan should have ruled that out when he realized the place he was in was colder than fuck. Blood. Whatever those two people had done to him, they’d beaten him up pretty well.

  The sounds seemed to be coming from everywhere. The direction of them was difficult to pinpoint, as he thought they even sounded like they were coming from above. He wished he could just call out to see if whoever was out there would answer him. But he also knew, from his own experience at doing shit like this, that begging or even asking for answers would belittle him. When he had someone just where he wanted them, having them beg for someone to answer him would make him feel all the more superior to them.

  “Do you really think you’re superior to me?” The voice, like the other sounds, was all around him. He knew it was a woman’s voice, but that was about all. “How does it feel to be chained in a room with a drain beneath you? I’m not going to tell you this to scare you—I couldn’t care less if you’re frightened or not—but you are where you are so that all your blood will go down the drain. Even after I have to spray down the walls to get the worst of it.”

  Harlan laughed. “You expect me to believe you’re all badass? That you’re going to hurt me in ways that are going to have parts of me hanging from the rafters?” She simply answered him, yes. “Yes, well, I’ve been torturing people for a good deal longer than you have. Also, it’s been my experience that women just don’t have the stomach for making someone scream. Unless, of course, they’re a psychopath. Are you, little girl? Someone that enjoys killing begging men?”

  “Psychopath? No. I’d say that’s not what I am. I’m more of a…I guess you could call me a person who gets paid for making men beg. Also, killing. I’ve been killing monsters such as you for a great deal longer than you’d think.” The movement in front of him was quick, almost like a streak of light passing before him. “Usually, the heart gives out long before I have the opportunity to get to the really fun part. It saddens me, really, that my play is only just beginning when it’s over. But I’ve perfected killing monsters like you. I can make you suffer in ways that you just cannot imagine. Would you like to know why?”

  The movement again, this time slower. This time he could see it was indeed a woman, and she was beautiful. Not only that, he thought her dressed all in glass—a trick of the lighting. Harlan thought she was all words and no play. He was rather enjoying this.

  “Yes, why don’t you tell me your little secret. Tell me so the next time I’m playing, I can do the same. I have found that sometimes I take just a little too long. Then I have to just end my fun before it really has a chance to begin.” Harlan laughed a little louder this time. “Go ahead, tell me what it is you do to make the person live until you’ve had enough.”

  “I bring them back to life over and over with magic.” He felt the slice through his throat, the warmth of his blood running down his chest. Coughing, trying to pull free of his chains, he knew she’d been playing him all along. Then she was there, right in front of him. “You see? It brings you back to me so I can continue for a little while longer.”

  She’d cut his throat. He knew he hadn’t imagined that. Now it was as if nothing had happened. The blood was still there—he could see it staining his shirt. It was fresh too. Blood, old blood, would turn brown when it was sitting. This was as red as he had ever seen. Twisting his head, moving his neck just enough to wince in pain, he looked around for the woman. Her laughter felt like it was a part of the room that seemed to be closing in on him.

  “I, however, am not the one that is going to kill you. Because, Harlan, I want you to have no illusions that you’re going to walk away from this. I was told I could have my fun with you. I could even hurt you some. But you belong to another, a man that has pain in his heart for something you did to one of his.” Harlan didn’t have any idea what she was going on about and told her that. “I can give you hints. I cannot outright tell you who or what it is you’ve done. Though I’ve had a very complete search through that nasty mind of yours, and I doubt even giving you hints will narrow it down for you.”

  “What the fuck are you talking about? Why am I here? What is it you think I’ve done to deserve this?” There were several things that could have had him chained like he was. Even more things he should die for. But he wasn’t going to go down easily. He was a man who prided himself on having as much fun as he possibly could. “Where are you, bitch? Show yourself to me.”

  She stood in front of him again, not close enough to touch him, but close enough that he didn’t have to squint to see her. Christ, she was beautiful. Her body was one that men dreamed of taking. Her face was one that he was sure graced paintings of goddesses. When she threw back her head and laughed, he could see that along with her beauty, there was also danger. Her fangs were as long as his fingers. They were also
sharper than any knife he’d ever carried.

  “You look like you need to have some things cleared up for you, Harlan. Let me do that for you right now. First of all, I’m not nearly as young as you might have in your head. I’m an ancient. Older than even the dirt beneath your feet. Stronger than the stone that holds up these walls around us. More powerful than an atomic bomb—any bomb, for that matter. I am, in a word, magic.” She moved around the room with dizzying speed until he was sick with it. When she finally stopped, he couldn’t have looked directly at her if she’d put a gun to his head. Closing his eyes, he heard the scraping sound again. Looking to his right, he screamed with what he saw there. “They’re mine and will not harm you unless I tell them to. I would like for you to take note of their size. The manner in which they move. One breath from them—there are two of them there—and you will be nothing more than a block of ice. A block so cold and solid that only their tail hitting it will break through. Of course, you’ll die as well, but that’s what we’re here for anyway, aren’t we, Harlan?”

  The two dragons moved around the room. They were large but not cumbersome. Their movements were graceful—like a pair of dancers, he thought. Harlan didn’t know where that thought came from, but he knew it to be true. They might well be as deadly as she said, but right now, they were the most beautiful creatures he’d ever seen.

  “You said you’d give me a hint.” His mind didn’t want to dwell on the things she’d said the dragons could do. Harlan was afraid that if he did, he’d think about dying. He wasn’t going to. She was only telling him this to make him think he was. One of the oldest tricks in the book, he thought to himself. “What is it that has you bringing me here to put up with your bullshit?”

  “A hint. All right. Here is a good one. What does the name Jon mean to you? Anything?” It didn’t. Not that he’d never heard the name before. There were plenty of Jons in the world. When he told her she’d have to do better, she gave him a second name. “Does the name Sean mean anything to you? How about Sean Crosby?”

  “Nope.” He did have a little tickle of a memory of the name Crosby, but he was enjoying this too much to tell her that. This bantering back and forth, it was fun for him. He usually didn’t get to talk to his victims. They were gagged when he had his fun. He might try leaving them to talk to him while he taunted them. “I don’t know either of those names. How about you tell me what it is I’ve allegedly done to them? Then I can try and remember them that way.”

  “I think that is more than enough to bring you up to date on why you’re here. I will tell you that Sean is here now. I’ve only had the privilege of playing with you until he was free to come and kill you. Also, you might pretend to remember this about him, but Crosby is a vampire. A very old and very pissed off vampire.”

  “Vampire, huh? Well, bring it on, vampire. Whatever you think I’ve done, I’m sure you’ve done a good deal worse.” Harlan knew it was a joke now. There were no such things as vampires. “You bring it on, buddy, and we’ll trade ways of killing people.”

  The laugh made his balls tighten to his body. It wasn’t a woman this time, but a man. The way the sounds echoed around the room made him think evil surrounded him. Not just that, but an evil the likes of which he’d never seen before.

  “Hello, Harlan.” It was an educated voice, with a bit of an accent he’d never heard before. Cocking one ear in the direction from which the woman had come out of the shadows, he wanted to get something on the man he’d bet no one had gotten before. “I think it’s funny that you don’t believe I exist. That vampires aren’t real. It’s a shame, really, that you’re going to learn that not only are we real, but that we protect what we love with every ounce of ourselves.”

  “Hey, if I hurt one of your pets, I’m sorry about that. But a man has to have some fun, don’t you think?” Sean didn’t answer him. “I tell you what, Sean. I’ll give you every penny I have, and we’ll call it even. How about that?”

  “Money? For my son? No. Nothing you have in the tangible sense interests me. No. You might say I’m out for blood. All of yours draining out of your body while I watch.” He told him he was sorry. For some reason, Harlan thought this man was serious that he was going to kill him. “I am, you know. Going to kill you. There is no doubt at all that I’m going to kill you slowly, too.”

  “Look. You can have everything. I have a couple of houses too. All of it, it’s yours.” The movement this time brought the man to stand in front of his face. Harlan knew in that moment that he was looking into eyes that had not only committed evil acts but perhaps had been the very reason for the word evil. “Please.”

  Harlan couldn’t look away. All he could do was stare into the red eyes that bore into him. They were dark too, red so dark that it looked like blood. It seeped from them; blood did. The man was so dark, everything about him showing the darker side of him, that Harlan had to wonder if the movies had ever really seen a vampire. If they had, their movies would be a great deal scarier than anything they had ever produced for people to enjoy.

  “I am here for this.”

  All Sean did was touch his forehead, and it was right there for Harlan to remember. The view in his mind was like a rolling movie. He knew why the man was there. Harlan even knew the name of the child. Jon Daniels. Son of Sandy Farley.

  Harlan felt his bladder empty, his pants fill with a vile smelling shit that made him sick with it. But it was the rape of a ten-year-old little boy. The sodomy of someone so beaten that he remembered it as if he’d done it yesterday. He’d done the beating. Harlan had taken the boy over and over at his mother’s request. Harlan not only saw what he’d done to the young child but felt every wound and deed he’d done to him.

  Every time what he’d done came to an end, the vampire would slash at him, his neck, arms, and face. Harlan felt parts of himself fall from his body. Each slash would open new wounds that would drain him just a little more.

  Sean never said a word except one the entire time he kept him alive. “Jon.” That was all he said, the boy’s name over and over as he cut more of Harlan’s body away. Let more of his blood drain into the hole he had been told was there.

  When the woman appeared again, she put her hand on the man, pushing him back against the wall just beyond where Harlan could see. Not that he could see too much. Harlan thought that at some point, he’d lost one of his eyes.

  “Please. End me.” The two of them argued. He didn’t know what they said, their language beyond whatever he had learned in school. But they were angry. That much anyone could tell. “Kill me. Please. End me.”

  ~*~

  “Enough.” Sean roared at Emerald, letting his monster inside try and hurt her. “You’ve killed him more times than even I have when playing. End him, or I will.”

  “No. He must suffer for all the suffering Jon has endured.” Emerald told him to look at what he’d done. Sean was beyond looking at anything right now. His beast had taken control of him, and Sean, the man, was no longer there. “He must suffer for my Jon.”

  “Look at him, you fucking bastard. He’s paid enough.” Sean could feel himself being forced to the forefront, to be the person that would be there for others. When he looked at Harlan, his belly actually churned up. “You did enough, Sean. He’s paid enough. Don’t you think?”

  Sean collapsed. He held on to Emerald as tightly as he could as his beast let him go. He’d gone beyond anything he’d ever done before. Not just for a vampire, but even a monster. Sean cried out his pain, cried for what he’d done to this man. As he sat there in the blood-soaked basement, he watched as not only did Emerald end the man as she said she would, but the room was once again a pristine place.

  “Come on. You need to take a shower. I can’t clean you up like I did the room. You’ll smell like me, and that won’t be good for either of us.”

  She took him to a stall, and he stood under the spray of cold water until the water no
longer ran red. Then, when she told him to strip, he watched as parts of Harlan joined the blood as it circled the drain.

  “Don’t leave me.”

  “I’m not. I’m right here when you’re finished.” Sean pulled the shampoo off the shelf above his head, but he couldn’t open it. His mind kept seeing the man he’d killed. “Don’t, Sean. You did what needed to be done. You know in your head that the man deserved this and more. You can’t let it get you down, or you’re going to be as haunted as Becky is.”

  Concentrating on one thing at a time, he opened the shampoo bottle then washed his hair. No longer looking down at the drain, he kept his eyes closed as he washed his body. Even now that he was naked, there were still places where his fingers would encounter something foreign to him. Something that would have his mind flashing to what he’d done.

  Emerald spoke to him from the other side of the now closed shower door. “Chase knows why we’re here. Not exactly what we’ve been doing, but why. He said he’d come by and take you to a hotel so you can sleep. You’ve been down here for hours. He called Rachel to tell her the two of you are having a nice night of it and that you’re not driving home.”

  “I told her before I came here that I was going to kill Harlan.” Emerald said that was smart of him. “I just hope she won’t ask me any questions about it. I don’t know what I’ll tell her if she does.”

  “You tell her the truth. That he’s dead and taken care of.” Sean asked if she’d ask more. “She might. You tell her she doesn’t want to know. That usually works for me. People are afraid of me, and rightfully so. If she asks you if you killed him, you can truthfully tell her that I did.”

  Nodding to himself, he turned off the water. A towel appeared in front of him, and he dried himself from top to bottom. The more he thought about what he’d done, the more of it he could justify. Harlan was dead and gone. As far as Sean was concerned, in his heart and head, what he’d done was good. No other child would suffer.