Tío Tomás Novels & Stories

I promised to take care of Tomás, knowing that was what Matías would want. While Tomás may not actually be my biological brother, he's the closest thing I have to family. We both grew up on the streets. However, while I was an orphan, Tomás' parents were still alive. His father would beat him to an inch of his life, nearly killing him several times. When Tomás was only six years old, his father strangled him cutting off his airway until he passed out. His father had attacked him as he was upset over the loss of Matías. It had been two years since Matías had passed away, and his father hadn't taken it well.

Even now, as I'm brooding behind my desk, his smile lights up the room. "Hermfuego?" I hear Tomás call out as he approaches my desk. Hermfuego was a term Tomás came up with, which is short for fire brother. He's always called me that ever since he was a little kid. I think part of it is because of my middle name being Blaze. I found it cute, so I never stopped him from calling me differently. I can't deny how much not being able to hear that endearment affected me. It was an endearment I had gotten used to hearing; it felt odd not being able to hear it.

"That statue belongs to the only person who has helped us all these years. A mysterious stranger who has been providing for us, keeping us alive, comforting us while our Alpha was off doing who-knows-what!" A murmur of agreement rises, voices overlapping. "That stranger granted our wishes like a true leader should!" "He’s an angel sent by the Goddess!" "He gave us food when we were starving!" "He kept our homes warm through the brutal winters!" The old man straightens, his voice ringing with finality. “We don’t want Alpha Elijah anymore. We’ve already decided—we want the mysterious man as our Alpha. We named him… Alpha Santa!” I blink. I stare. I try to hold it in.

Santiago’s voice was curious, yet heavy underlined with authority. “T-Tomás, señor. Tomás Santos.” His eyes were still glued to the ground, his face turning red. Santiago smirked. “Ah, the saint. Good job, Tomás.” His voice carried rare approval. Tomás stiffened, the corner of his mouth twitching. “G-gracias, El León.” His voice was barely a breath. Just as I was watching the young man, studying him, Santiago’s hand slid lower on my back, steering me toward the staircase. “Come, mi ángel.”

Two more on the inner elbows. They had drained every last drop of blood and thrown him into the sea like trash. “Vampires,” Damián said unnecessarily. “It’s the younger son,” Klaus confirmed, checking a leather bracelet on the boy’s wrist. “Tomás. The one they kidnapped.” I closed my eyes for a moment. The sound of the sea filled the silence—indifferent, eternal. A fourteen-year-old boy. Kidnapped, drained, discarded like an empty container. That was what vampires did. That was what I should have prevented.

He was stunned, as if recalling the happy moments we had once shared. After a long moment of silence, he finally lowered his head and said, "Back then, we were young. Hormones control our brains. We didn't understand how long a lifetime really was, so we thought loving only one person forever would be easy." "I love you now, and I love Daisy too. I can't give her the title of my wife, so I want to make it up to her in other ways. But one thing is certain—no matter how many women I have outside, you will always be my wife."

It was him. Mateo Santiago.

Nic looked at me and I hated that I was thinking about the cabin, which meant my face was not as serious as it should have been. I nodded to avoid them staring too long. "You need to tell us everything." "Ok. Fatty is my boss." he held onto the wound on his thigh that was gushing blood and at that rate, He would die from the wound infection than from any bullet I was going to shoot him with. "Does fatty have a real name?" He blinked once, twice and I stepped closer, catching a whiff of something unpleasant from him. "Finn Connolly. But we all call him fatty, everyone calls him fatty."

Another stupid old man spoke. Wiping his voice from my ear with a finger, I cocked my head, giving the men behind me the order. Three of my men stepped towards the last elder who had dared to challenge me. Just when my men were about to lay their hands on the old man, Liam attacked, snapping the necks of my men. In seconds, my men were lifeless on the floor. Told you these bastards were just like their Alpha.

Lips still swollen from biting them in frustration. But underneath all of it was the same thing that always burned there—control. And right now, I was dangerously close to losing mine. I stepped into the shower, turned the water on scalding hot, and let it strip last night off me inch by inch. *** Tomas drove in silence, letting the low hum of the engine and the occasional shift of gears fill the quiet space between us. We were headed to La Iglesia—the decommissioned cathedral turned mob sanctum—and the informant we were about to meet was already testing my patience.