They Come by Night

by Tinnean

  “Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen. Please find a seat. I’m Dr. von Bulwer, and I’ll be covering this class today. Ms. Carteret, who normally teaches Intro to Sociology, was called away for the day. However, she will return in time for next week’s class.”

  And just like the day before, Dr. von Bulwer seemed to have his gaze on me every time I looked up.

  I WAS just coming in the door when the phone rang. Knowing it was probably the vet’s, I picked it up.

  “Mr. Small, this is Dr. Ingram’s office.” Talk about timing.

  “Hi.” I recognized the voice as the woman from last night. I’d been hoping the nice receptionist from this morning would be calling. “How’s Mina?”

  “She’s fine, but Dr. Ingram would like to keep her overnight to make sure her stitches don’t start oozing.”

  “Can I come see her?”

  “No. She’s still a little woozy from the anesthesia. It will be better if you wait until tomorrow.”

  “Okay. What do I need to have for her?”

  “Oh, we’ll tell you all about that when you come get her.”

  “O—”

  “Good-bye.”

  The witch hung up on me again.

  I WAS reworking the essay for English when a loud knock on the front door made me jump.

  I never had visitors. Who the heck was on my front porch?

  The knocking became more impatient. I had a doorbell—it played the first notes of the overture from Phantom of the Opera. Why hadn’t my visitor rung it?

  Oh, geez, not someone peddling religion! We’d gotten holy rollers at home a few times, and nothing stopped them from trying to convert us—not Dad telling them we were Catholic and related to the pope, not me piping up we were card-carrying Wiccans—that only made them try all the harder. The only way Dad had gotten rid of them was by slamming the door in their faces.

  “We need a big dog, Ty,” he’d told me when I was about eight. “One with a really big bark!”

  We’d gone to the local animal shelter and picked out the puppy with the biggest paws. Dad had high hopes for that dog.

  “This pup is going to be a big boy, Ty. What do you think we should name him?”

  “How about Andre the Giant?” Dad was a big wrestling fan, and I’d often watched his World Wrestling Federation VHS tapes with him.

  The Giant lived up to his name, not only having huge paws, but a deep, thunderous bark that scared the shit out of anyone who came to the door.

  It was too bad Mina was still at the vet’s, although I was afraid the only thing her bark would cause to happen would be for my caller to fall on the floor laughing.

  I sighed and went to the front of the house to see who was there.

  A glance through the peephole revealed nothing. The sun had gone down a few hours ago, and there was no moon.

  I flipped on the switch for the porch light, and in spite of me knowing someone had to be there, I jumped when it revealed a man standing there. I knew, although I didn’t know how I knew—maybe it was a sabor thing: he was a vampyr. And he was gorgeous.

  My dick began to harden. It remembered as well as I did how good it had felt when Adam had fed from me. He had licked the birthmark that covered my carotid artery. Some element in his saliva had an anesthetic quality to it, and there had been no pain when his fangs had slid into my throat, just pleasure such as I’d never expected to feel, and an overpowering orgasm that led to me blacking out.

  At least I had with Adam, and I saw no reason why that shouldn’t happen again with the vampyr who stood waiting on the other side of my door.

  Remembering the care my first vampyr had taken with me, I had no qualms in opening the door.

  “Hi!” I smiled at him. “I’m Tyrell Small.”

  “I know who you are.” He was a couple of inches shorter than me, which made him about five foot seven or eight.

  I continued smiling at him. For the longest time I couldn’t grow an inch over four feet, and to now be able to look most men in the eye was a pleasure I wasn’t sure I’d ever outgrow. And to look down on one….

  “You should have been mine.”

  “Excuse me?” I’d started to extend my hand to him, but that brought me up short.

  “I should have been your first. I am Juan de Vivar.” In spite of the fact he was shorter, he peered down his nose at me, and his lips curled, revealing his fangs.

  I swallowed and involuntarily stepped back. Adam had at least waited until I was comfortable with him before he’d let me see his fangs.

  “Well? What are you waiting for?”

  “Uh….” My smile had vanished around the time he’d told me he should have been my first, and suddenly Juan de Vivar didn’t look so gorgeous anymore.

  “Are you as dense as your uncle?” he snapped.

  “What?”

  “I can’t enter unless you invite me in.”

  “Of course. I’m sorry.” I opened my mouth automatically to grant him entrance, but the invitation caught in my throat. Instead, I found myself asking, “What did you mean about my uncle?”

  “He thought he could escape his destiny.” De Vivar sneered, and that really killed his looks.

  “Geez, what is it with everyone and this destiny shtick? What happened to free will?”

  “You’re not only as dense as your uncle, you’re as foolish!” His scowl deepened. He had a serious case of red eye going on there, and I backed away another step. It wasn’t that I was suddenly scared, precisely. It was just that….

  Okay, I was scared. But you didn’t show fear in front of a wild animal, so I wasn’t going to show fear to this bozo.

  I hoped.

  “All my people know what a fool he was, to throw away what he had for the ephemeral dream of love.”

  “And what did he have? A vampyr sinking his fangs into him a few times a year? Big fucking whoop. Why shouldn’t he give that up for someone who loved him?”

  “You dare argue with me?” The vampyr’s teeth ground together. “Vampyrs do not fall in love with sabors!”

  “Well, why not?” I was kind of surprised his fangs didn’t snap off, and then I found myself wondering: Do vampyrs have a dental plan? Do they have dentists who do root canals? “We’ve got to fall in love with you.”

  “Yes, and why haven’t you?” His complexion was swarthy, but the fury in it now made it even darker. “I should have known your line would prove difficult!”

  “Y’know what? Insulting my family isn’t going to get you into my house and your fangs into my throat. Adam said I didn’t have to accept you…” Maybe not in so many words, but I didn’t like this Juan de Vivar, and I’d be damned if I let him sink his fangs into me. “…and I’m not going to.”

  “He said what? You can’t!”

  “Oh, no? Watch me!”

  He howled and reached for me, and I slammed the door in his face and threw the bolt. My heart was pounding in my chest, and my erection had long since deflated. I backed away from the door.

  The vampyr couldn’t enter—I’d refused him permission—but I looked around for a weapon. I didn’t have any sacred silver, but I did have a bulb of garlic in the fridge, so I ran to get it. Somehow holding it helped steady my nerves.

  I wasn’t going to cower in a corner, though. I went back and held my breath, waiting to see what would happen.

  It was kind of anticlimactic. There was a polite tapping on the door.

  “Go away!” I yelled.

  “Tyrell, open the door, please.” It wasn’t Juan de Vivar’s voice.

  I tiptoed back—although why I tiptoed I had no clue. It wasn’t as if it was a surprise I was in the house—and peered through the peephole. The vampyr who stood there was as gorgeous as de Vivar had struck me at first, and even taller than Adam.

  “You needn’t be afraid.” How did he know I was close enough to hear him? “I’ve sent him away.”

  “Who are you?”

  “I am Alexandru Mondragon.”

&
nbsp; “Uh… okay. What do you want?”

  “Open the door. I wish to speak with you.”

  Cautiously I opened the door and looked around. De Vivar was gone. Or at least he wasn’t in sight.

  “Okay, I’ve opened the door. But I’m not inviting you in.”

  He gave me a thoughtful look and then smiled. It was a very charming smile, and he was very handsome, but I felt no tug of desire toward him. Was that because I wasn’t ready to feed a vampyr—it had only been about four weeks since Adam was here—or because he didn’t need to feed?

  “First I wish to express my regret to you for de Vivar’s behavior. He forgets this is the twenty-first century and things are different than when he was a young man.”

  “When was that?” About a thousand years ago? I thought snidely.

  “Are you asking how old he is? He wasn’t young when he manned the redoubts at Balaclava when the Light Brigade charged it. You do the math.”

  I swallowed. That battle had been fought in 1854, a hundred and sixty years ago.

  I wasn’t a big history buff, but after Dad had told me how the relationship between sabors and vampyrs came about—even though he had it wrong—I’d done some research. I’d been intrigued to learn one theory was the Black Plague had first been brought to Europe by Genoese trading ships returning from Balaclava.

  “May I come in?”

  “I have a headache,” I informed him. I wasn’t expecting him to laugh, but he did.

  “No, I promise you, I won’t touch you.”

  “All right, but just remember… I’ve got garlic!” I held up my hand with the bulb in my fist.

  “I think you’ve been watching too many vampyr movies.” He continued to chuckle, waiting patiently, and this time I felt a tug of something.

  “Enter freely, but just remember I reserve the right to boot you out at my own discretion.”

  “As you will.” He stepped across my threshold, and I closed the door behind him and led him into the living room. He looked around. “Where is your Ȋnger Păzitor?”

  “Mina? She’s at the vet’s.”

  His gaze locked on mine, the expression in his eyes cold and sharp. “Why?”

  “She had to get spayed.”

  “And you just happened to choose today to do that?”

  “No, I was actually going to wait until Thursday to call Dr. Ingram. I have no classes on Thursday and Friday,” I explained.

  “Why didn’t you?”

  “Her office called yesterday. They said they had an opening this morning and it would be a good idea to bring her in. Why?”

  “This wouldn’t have happened if your Ȋnger Păzitor had been here.”

  I couldn’t help it. I started to laugh. “Have you seen her? What, she’d have licked him into submission?”

  He wasn’t amused, and my laugh petered out. “It was highly fortuitous for Juan de Vivar that she wasn’t here when he came to call on you. It was highly fortuitous for you that I happened to be in the neighborhood when he did. Let this be a lesson to you—she is never to be away from you overnight ever again.” Flames seemed to burn in his eyes. “Have I made myself clear?”

  “Ye—” I swallowed. “Yes, sir.”

  “I hope you never need be protected by her, but….”

  “If Ȋnger Păzitors are for our protection, why didn’t my uncle’s save him?”

  “That….” He shook his head. “When your uncle’s vampyr did what she did, it weakened the bond between sabor and Ȋnger Păzitor.”

  “So the dog just left him?” At least he didn’t put all the blame on Uncle Phil. I’d been all set to tell him it took two to tango and my uncle hadn’t been in that bed alone.

  “No. She would have curled into a ball and grieved herself to death.”

  No wonder Uncle Phil was so sad. He’d not only lost his vampyr but his Ȋnger Păzitor as well. My stomach felt as if the bottom had fallen out. “Would that happen to Mina?”

  “Yes, I’m afraid. So you see, it behooves you to have a care for yourself.”

  I stared at him blindly and shivered. I’d only had her for a month, but the thought she’d grieve herself to death because of me… she was so little.

  “Wait a second. You said my uncle’s dog would have. So she didn’t die of grief because my uncle fell in love with a vampyr. What happened to her?”

  “The vampyr who came after broke her neck. You see, in spite of everything, she still attempted to protect her sabor.”

  I couldn’t help shivering again. Mina might be willing to face someone who threatened me—I didn’t find that hard to believe, since she had a dauntless little heart, but if it resulted in her death, how could I live with that?

  “Do you understand now why you have to be careful?”

  “Yes, I understand.” For Mina, because she loved me. For the vampyr community, because they needed me. I blinked and refocused on him. He was eyeing me thoughtfully, and abruptly I remembered my manners. “Can I get you something?”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Such as?”

  “Coffee? Hot cocoa? It’s nippy outside.”

  “No, thank you.”

  “All right, then. I’m sorry, I don’t have any blood on hand. I mean….” The blood I did have on hand rushed to my face and heated it, but he just smiled kindly. What else did I have to offer him? “Beer, wine, soda?”

  “You’re underage.”

  “It was here when I got here.” I gestured toward the cabinet that contained the sum total of my wine stock.

  “Ah. I see.” He wandered over to it and hummed in approval. “Adam has left you nicely stocked.”

  “Um… can you drink? I mean not just blood, but beer or wine or soda?”

  “In moderation, as with all things. Thank you, Tyrell. I believe I’ll have this Dominus red.” He set about opening it with a corkscrew I didn’t even realize I had.

  “Okay.” I went to the kitchen, ditched the garlic and washed my hands, and took a couple of glasses down from the cabinet next to the fridge. I filled them both with ice from the ice maker in the freezer door and poured some Coke into mine.

  I returned to the great room. “Here you go, sir.” I handed a glass to Mr. Mondragon. I’d never even referred to my teachers as “sir,” but for some reason, that seemed the best way to address him. There was something about him that made me hesitant to even think of addressing him by his first name.

  “Thank you.” He looked around.

  “Problem?”

  “Red wine isn’t drunk on ice.”

  I felt my face heating up again. “Sorry,” I mumbled. I took the glass from him, returned to the kitchen, dumped out the ice cubes, and brought it back. “Sorry,” I repeated.

  “You’re very young.”

  I couldn’t quarrel with him over that. I was eighteen, and he was… what? A million?

  He took the glass and poured some of the bloodred wine into it. “Sit down, won’t you? There’s much I need to tell you.”

  “Finally!”

  He gave me a look, and I subsided and sank down on the love seat. He stood before me, the glass in his long, elegant fingers…. Oh, crap, I wasn’t falling in love with him, was I?

  “You needn’t fear, Tyrell. You’re not. Although I do wonder why.”

  “Huh? You can read my mind?”

  “Your face is very expressive. And considering what occurred here earlier, I’m not at all surprised you’re uneasy.”

  “Uneasy? Is that what you call it?” But I noticed he didn’t answer my question.

  “De Vivar has always been inclined to act first and question those actions afterward. This is why he was not given permission to approach you. If he’d done the opposite with regards to your uncle—”

  “He was the one who hurt Uncle Phil? Dammit, I wish I’d—”

  “There is nothing you could have done, Tyrell. De Vivar isn’t ancient as vampyrs go, but he’s powerful enough that he would have crushed you.”

  “He could have
tried,” I said with all the bravado I could muster.

  “Ah, my young sabor, I’m afraid he would have succeeded.”

  “This is your fault too.” I scowled at him. “If you hadn’t destroyed Vidalia—”

  “Why would we destroy one of our own?”

  “You didn’t? But Uncle Phil said…. Why would he say that if it hadn’t happened?”

  Mr. Mondragon sighed. “Obviously he was lied to. Vidalia was simply ordered to Europe. The last thing we wanted was to lose a vampyr who showed such great promise.”

  “So she gets off scot-free, but because my uncle isn’t a virgin any longer, he’s still paying for what they did? Did you even know he’d pretty much shredded his arms to deal with not being able to feed a vampyr?”

  His gaze became somber. “We had no idea how he would deal with that—this had never happened before. And then he went to ground and we were unable to contact him—”

  I interrupted without compunction. “He was in Clewiston until two years ago. And what would you have told him? Come home, all is forgiven?”

  “No, but we would have told him there were other things he could do.” He shook his head.

  “Yeah? Such as?”

  “He could have sired other sabors. Because of de Vivar’s precipitate action, Phillip Small may well be lost to us forever.”

  I was about to tell him the vampyr community deserved to have lost him when my brain caught up with his previous words. “Wait! I didn’t know sabors could have children.”

  “Not in the general course of events. Normally, a single sabor is born into each saborese family every generation. Occasionally, when a sabor outgrows his or her—”

  “Usefulness?”

  “I was going to say their ability to function as a—”

  “Lower rung of the food chain?”

  “Tyrell, cease! Sabors are highly valued. They always have been. Before the Black Plague, when it became necessary to share this treasure, royal families each had their own. Phillip Small would have been given the opportunity to wed a day watcher—”