Skye Morrison Vampire 2 Sins of the Father

  Sins of the Father

  By: J.L. McCoy

  SMASHWORDS EDITION

  Copyright © 2012 J.L. McCoy

  All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

  This book is dedicated to my father.

  Acknowledgements

  First and foremost, I’d like to thank my father David Varner. He gave me a quiet place to hide out and write this book while improvements were being made to our house. If he hadn’t have opened his house to me and given me some much needed peace and quiet, you would not be reading Sins of the Father today. So, thank you very much Daddy!

  Special thanks go out to my amazing husband Kenny for understanding my writing needs. He allowed me to lock myself away for two months so I could get this done. (Babe, you are the coolest husband a person could have. I love you completely. Thanks for being you.)

  Next, I’d like to thank my gorgeous cover model/sister Kellie Albanese (You give good face, kid!), Patrick Conlin of Conlin Photography in Austin, Texas for the amazing cover photo and book cover design, Richard Friedman for cover modeling, Eva Lee Phillips-Friedman for the photo shoot assistance, the wonderful and amazing Sandra Kruchko for all of the hard work she put in editing this book, Angel Herrera, Nicole ‘Nikki’ Broadhurst-Carriere, and Anita Smith-Shields for critiquing (I couldn’t do this without you girls!), the awesome people over at Irish Gaelic translations forum for the translations, and author Katie Salidas of Rising Sign Books for the e-book formatting.

  I’d also like to thank my wonderful Facebook “family”. You guys gave me the drive and encouragement to finish this book faster than I ever thought possible. Thank you for all the reviews, emails, wall posts, likes, and shares. You guys mean the absolute world to me!

  Last, but certainly not least, I’d like to thank YOU, the reader! Thank you for buying this book and for supporting Indie authors like me. My name is a new name among the vast sea of Indie authors out there and I thank you from the bottom of my heart for taking a chance on my books. I really hope you like them!

  If I’ve left anyone out, I sincerely apologize. All mistakes herein are mine and mine alone.

  Conlin Photography: www.facebook.com/pages/Conlin-Photography/147117428676817?ref=ts

  Rising Sign Books: www.risingsignbooks.net

  My Facebook author page: www.facebook.com/authorjlmccoy

  Chapter 1

  I stood in the stockroom downstairs, a box of unopened liquor bottles at my feet, as I replayed the events of the last thirty minutes over in my head. Greyson Mead, Archer’s friend and business associate, had been brutally murdered. His dismembered body had been found in a curtained-off PVIP lounge by one of The Mausoleum’s human cleaning crew. A message had been brutally carved into the naked flesh of his chest. It read ‘THE BLOOD OF THE SON SHALL PAY FOR THE SINS OF THE FATHER’. After many tears and a shocking admission from Archer, Greyson’s body was hauled away by Quinn for the pyre later tonight and Seamus and Hunter had started the clean-up process. I replayed the conversation as I continued selecting bottles to restock the bar with.

  Archer sighed and swallowed hard. “There’s something that I’ve been keeping from you all. I think it’s time you knew.” Everyone in the room froze and turned to Archer.

  “As you know, four of our blood brothers and sisters were murdered in Houston this month.” Lochlan, Seamus, and Hunter somberly crossed themselves as Archer continued. “That’s part of the reason why I wanted to get Quinn, Hunter, and Trey out of there. I thought it best to have my children with me and away from danger. But it seems as though danger has followed them.”

  The vampires looked around at each other in confusion; Aoife, I noticed, sat there quietly looking at her hands. The news didn’t seem new to her. Archer walked over to the bar and grabbed an expensive bottle of scotch. He uncapped it, took a big swig directly from the bottle and then silently passed it off to Lochlan.

  Jameson looked down at me, brushed the hair back from my face, and then searched my tear stained eyes. “Are you okay, love?” he whispered. I slowly nodded my head as he led us over to the table where Trey sat. Trey’s tears had finally slowed to the occasional breathy hiccup. I reached over and took Trey’s cool hand in mine, interlocking my fingers with his. He gently squeezed my hand back in thanks and we turned our attention back to Archer.

  “Shayne and Molly O’Brien were murdered last night in their home in Landry, which is only twenty miles east of here. They were found drained of all their blood and dismembered…in a manner similar to Greyson’s.” Archer briefly closed his eyes and sighed. The tragedy of tonight’s events seemed to have aged him some. His handsome face was drawn and his ice blue eyes haunted.

  Trey gripped my hand tighter as a soft whimper escaped his lips. I squeezed his hand back and scooted my chair closer to his. I could only imagine what Trey must have been going through. He was an Empath in a room full of scared, grieving people. I tried to think calm, soothing thoughts in an attempt to help ease him through. I didn’t know if they would help him, but I sure as hell was going to give it my best shot.

  Lochlan took a long drink from the bottle of scotch and passed it off to Hunter. “Who were Shayne an’ Molly?” Lochlan inquired in his airy Irish accent. “I don’t think I have ever met ‘em.”

  “They were of Callum’s blood,” Aoife said, standing up and walking over to Archer. She reached down and clasped one of his strong hands in hers. Archer looked at her and smiled a small, sad smile as she continued. “Callum turned Shayne O’Brien in the late 1960s in New York. Shayne was the son of a dear friend of Callum’s, and when Shayne was diagnosed at twenty-one with an inoperable and fatal brain tumor, Callum turned him. Shayne met Molly a few years later, fell in love, and asked Callum to turn her also. Shayne never fully embraced this life and he made the choice to live alone with Molly here in Texas.”

  Aoife glanced at me for the first time and I saw unshed tears in her eyes. She quickly looked away and at Lochlan again. “Shayne and Molly O’Brien didn’t have a single enemy in this world. They were quiet, never left their little town, and never interacted with others of our kind. They were sweet, innocent, and very much in love. They didn’t deserve being sucked dry and ripped to pieces.” I watched as the tears in her eyes finally became too much to contain and they spilled down her beautiful, milky white face. She must have known them both, I thought sadly.

  “There’s more,” Archer said gravely. “Sliocht Sheáin in Boston and Sliocht Brocc in Chicago have each lost three brothers in the past month. They were all killed in the same manner.” He took a deep breath before adding, “And we have no word from Callum. He has been missing from his home in New York for the past two weeks. No one has seen him.”

  “Why di’nna we know about dis?!” Seamus exploded in his thick Irish/Scottish lilt; standing up with his fists clenched tightly, a look of pure, murderous rage on his face. It was obvious he was itching to fight back. “Someone is feckin’ murderin�
� our kind, damnú air! Why di’nna you tell us sooner? Why di’nna someone from Sheáin’s family tell us? For feck’s sake, Athair, we cu’da helped! We cu’da tried!”

  Trey’s body started to tremble uncontrollably and he looked over at me with quiet desperation in his eyes. I could see how hard he was trying to keep it together and how close he was to failing. I got up from the table, walked over to Hunter, and took the bottle of scotch from his hands with a quick ‘Thank you’. I brought it over to Trey and had him take several long sips as I sat down again next to him, softly rubbing circles on his back with my hand and gently whispering words of reassurance in his ear.

  Archer looked worriedly over at Trey and then back to Seamus. “Tóg go bog é, Seamus, please. Tá sé ceart go leor a mhic.”

  “Callum, brother?” I heard Jamison question softly behind me. “Why didn’t you tell me?” There was genuine pain in his voice. I glanced back and saw a mixture of confusion and betrayal marred his usual carefree appearance. “You know he is my friend.”

  Archer put one hand to his heart and immediately looked remorseful. “Youngblood, I…”

  “Wait,” Quinn interrupted. “I don’t understand, Athair. What does this all mean?”

  Archer reluctantly turned his attention away from Jameson and addressed Quinn’s question. “It means, my son, that there is a vampire or similar blood drinking creature out there consuming our blood and leaving no witnesses to tell the tale. As to the message left on Greyson’s body, I have no idea what it means.”

  “But why, Archer?” I asked, looking over at him and Aoife. She was still clutching tightly to his hand, lending him support. “I mean, I thought vampires only fed from humans. Why would a vampire drink another vampire’s blood?”

  “We don’t feed on other vampires, Skye,” Archer explained, letting go of Aoife’s hand and resuming his seat in a nearby chair. He motioned for a still fuming Seamus to do the same. Archer watched as Seamus reluctantly complied and then resumed speaking. “Feeding off another vampire for nourishment is considered cannibalism. It simply isn’t done and, before I became aware of these murders, I wouldn’t have believed that someone was capable of doing something so unspeakable.”

  “The only time a vampire really consumes the blood of another vampire is when they have chosen their mate.” Aoife interrupted as she walked over to stand beside Archer. She reached up to lightly stroke his dark chestnut hair, and a look filled her eyes that clearly stated ‘he’s mine’. “There is a sacred, private ritual that is performed. You can liken it to one of your marriage ceremonies. In the sharing of blood, two vampires become one. Forever.” She sounded like she spoke from experience. Had she and Archer performed this ritual? That would explain a lot, I thought silently. Not dating anyone my ass, Archer. Yeah, you’re not dating her because you’re probably already married to her. I saw the way they acted around each other. There was a comfortable intimacy and carnal familiarity there. Even a blind man could see that. I glanced over at Archer before quickly looking away. He was staring straight at me and I had no doubt that he had psychically heard my thoughts. Well, at this point, I couldn’t have cared less.

  “Sometimes, it’s exchanged during intercourse with your mate for bonding purposes, but it’s not done often,” Aoife elaborated further.

  “Why are you only telling us about this now, Archer?” Trey whispered, breaking his silence and I jumped at the unexpectedness of it.

  “Because, my dear Nathaniel, I can no longer protect any of you from this. Believe me children, I didn’t keep this from you to hurt you, quite the contrary. I didn’t want to unnecessarily alarm you. I had no way of knowing that this…creature would come here. I’m telling you now because this monster, whoever it is, has entered our home. They came into our house and murdered our brother.”

  “But Seamus, Aoife, and I were in Boston when those in Sliocht Sheáin were murdered,” Lochlan said. “You should have told us, Athair.”

  “I wish I had been able to, but I had been given my own orders to remain silent,” Archer sighed. “Other leaders didn’t want to incite panic amongst their own. We didn’t know if the killings were random or if that monster was specifically targeting some of us. All of the vampires that this creature has killed so far are of our own species, those who walk in the light. Our inside sources have informed us that there have been no similar cases among the Dark Ones. We still haven’t found a pattern in the killings and we don’t yet understand why some of our kind was killed and others seemingly overlooked.”

  “What of An Dílis?” Hunter asked. “When will they be here?”

  “They should be here in roughly nine hours,” Archer replied. “They have been preparing for the journey here for the last few days.”

  “I’ve never seen one before,” Trey leaned over and whispered to me, passing me the bottle of scotch. He seemed like he had some margin of control over himself again and I was glad for it. I guess drinking helped dull some of the raw emotions he was picking up from everyone.

  “Who are the An Dílis? What does that even mean?” I asked Trey before taking a big swig from the bottle and passing it off to Jameson on my left.

  “An Dílis means ‘The Faithful’. They are kind of like our race’s equivalent to your military. They are big and bad, and if they’re coming, shit has definitely hit the fan.”

  “Oh dear…,” I whispered.

  Archer stood up and walked to the center of our haphazard gathering, slowly looking around at us as he spoke. “I want each of you to pair up with someone and stay with that person at all times. When we leave here tonight, we all leave together as a group. Jameson will lead the way in his car and I will bring up the rear in mine. I want you all to stay with me in my house until this is over.”

  “Aye,” Jameson said.

  “Tonight, we will say goodbye to our Greyson. Tomorrow, we prepare for what may come. Each of you will select and carry a weapon from my armory. You will not be without it at any time. Ever. Is that understood?”

  “Aye, Athair,” the vampires agreed in unison.

  Archer glanced around at everyone again and sighed heavily. “I don’t think I could bear it if something happened to any of you.”

  Trey sniffed and broke down into tears again. This time they were silent. I put my arm around him and held him. Poor Trey was so sensitive…

  “Alright,” Archer said, turning to Quinn. “Let’s get this done as quickly as possible. The sheets are upstairs.” Quinn nodded and wasted no time in ascending Archer’s private staircase. Archer then spoke to the rest of us. “Hunter and Seamus are going to clean the second floor. The rest of you divide up the first. I want us on the road within the hour, so use haste.”

  Everyone started splitting up and I turned to Trey. “Are you going to be okay, honey?” I asked as I briefly squeezed him in a side hug.

  Trey took a deep breath, removed a dainty lace-trimmed white handkerchief from his back pocket and dabbed at his eyes. “I will be,” he said with a deep sigh. “It’s been a taxing evening, hasn’t it?” I nodded my head and gave him a final pat on the back before I stood up.

  “I’m sorry you had to go through that,” I said softly. “I can’t imagine what it’s like to feel everyone’s emotions all at once.”

  Trey smiled sadly and shook his head. “I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy.”

  A light breeze ruffled my hair and I whipped around to find Jameson standing behind me.

  “Agh!” I screamed in surprise, dropping the bottle of Grey Goose that I was holding and clutching my hands tightly to my heart.

  Jameson flashed his hand out and caught it before it hit the ground. “Sorry, love, sorry,” he apologized quickly, setting the bottle in the near-full box at my feet. “I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

  “Uh…, no, I’m sorry,” I said, taking a deep breath and shaking my head. “I’m just a bit on edge still I guess.” I turned around and resumed selecting liquor bottles to restock both bars with.


  “Archer’s looking for you,” Jameson said, reaching over my shoulder and grabbing a bottle of Macallan 18.

  I grabbed four more bottles and put them in the box before turning around. “Yeah? What does he want?” I asked, tossing my long auburn hair over my left shoulder and out of my face.

  “No clue,” Jameson answered, bending down and picking up the full box at my feet. “He’s up in his office, though. I’ll follow you out.”

  I sighed, nodded my head, and left the room. I had Jameson put the box of new liquor bottles behind the first floor bar. I grabbed six bottles out and made my way up the wide metal staircase to the second floor. My eyes immediately went to the now empty table where we had found Greyson Mead’s dismembered body only forty minutes ago. Images of his decapitated head flashed in my mind and I fought a sudden, overwhelming wave of nausea. It was the most horrific thing I had ever seen and I knew I would vividly remember the gruesome sight until the day I died. I quickly shook my head and struggled hard to rid myself of the dreadful images. I swallowed the huge lump in my throat as I walked over to the bar and deposited the bottles on the counter.

  “Thanks,” Hunter mumbled distractedly as he set down the rag he was using to clean the counter top with and started putting away the bottles.

  “Yep,” I mumbled back as I turned to the left and opened the door to Archer’s private stairwell. I slowly trudged up the narrow, spiral staircase. After being on my feet for the last ten hours, my five inch spinal stilettos were absolutely killing me. I reminded myself to go to the employee lounge when I was done with Archer and get my comfortable black Converse Chucks out of my locker. I didn’t want to wear these heels a minute longer than I needed to.

  I reached the top of the stairs and gave a quick three knocks on the closed office door.