They Come by Night

by Tinnean

  “A what?”

  He didn’t answer my question. He did that a lot, I noticed.

  “He could start his own family, thereby expanding the gene pool. Both communities would have profited from the children he would have sired.” He stared down at me. “As I said, your bloodline—on both sides—is valuable to us. We never thought to see the day when they would produce offspring… Saborese generally mate with normals, although they breed true—the gene is passed on to their children.”

  “What are we, breeding stock?” I was being bombarded with too much information all at once, and I closed my eyes and pinched the bridge of my nose. My head was seriously starting to ache.

  “Tyrell, each of us are who we are.”

  There was that destiny crap again. I could have said, “Yeah, but you’re a vampyr and my people are who you feed from,” but why bother? He was a vampyr, and I was a sabor, and there was nothing I could do about either of those facts.

  He sat beside me and stroked my shoulder, obviously trying to calm me. While it felt nice, it wasn’t as nice as when Adam did it. “We almost lost your mother’s line entirely,” he said. “We thought the original incident was a one-off, so to speak.”

  “Original incident?” This time I did say, “You’re giving me a headache.”

  Cool fingers rested under my chin, tipping it up. “What did your father tell you of your mother’s people?”

  “Nothing.” I cracked open an eye and peered at him. “I could see it made him sad to talk about her, so I never asked.”

  He frowned. “That was not well done of him.”

  All thoughts of having a headache vanished, as well as possibly being attracted to this vampyr. “Listen, you!” I snarled. “Don’t you say anything bad about my father, ever! He’s a good man, and he raised me the best he could!”

  “I don’t doubt that. I’m just afraid his best wasn’t good enough.”

  “Okay, that’s it. I’m withdrawing my invitation to come into my house. Get out!”

  “Tyrell.” He set aside his glass. He’d hardly touched the wine. “What was your mother’s name?”

  I stared at him blankly. “Magdalena.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “What was her family’s name?”

  “Uh….” I had no idea.

  “There was a good deal he couldn’t tell you about sabors, but he should have told you about your bloodline.”

  “And you’re going to tell me?” I didn’t care how sulky or sullen I sounded. I didn’t need him telling me anything. I might not know my mother’s last name, but I knew about her and about my brothers and sisters.

  When I was eight, I’d learned what Pandora’s box looked like. It was five inches by eight by four, and the scent of cedar rose from it when it was opened.

  And inside, it held four birth certificates, a handful of photos, and a six-hour VHS tape.

  “I’VE GOT a union meeting tonight, Ty.” Dad was putting my dinner on the table. He had changed into jeans, a button-down shirt, and loafers. “Mary Jo will be here in a few minutes—”

  “Is Jimmy coming with her?”

  “I’m sure he is.” He ruffled my hair and smiled down at me. I didn’t know in a couple of years he wouldn’t be able to do that, as much as he might want to. “Now, I know I don’t have to tell you to behave.”

  “No, Dad.”

  “Good boy. Put the dishes in the sink when you’re done, and make sure you finish all your homework. And you can stay up half an hour later than usual.”

  “Thanks, Dad!”

  There was a tap on the back door, and Dad went to answer it.

  “Hi, Mr. Small.”

  “Hello, Mary Jo. Hi, Jimmy. There’s ice cream in the freezer—”

  “Chocolate?”

  I ducked my head so my friend wouldn’t see me grinning. That was Jimmy’s favorite flavor.

  “Yes, and there’s chocolate syrup, whipped cream, and cherries.”

  “Thanks, Mr. Small.” Mary Jo put her books down—she’d do her homework while Jimmy and I did ours and then watched some TV—and propped her hands on her hips. “I’ll make sure they don’t make little piggies of themselves.”

  “Aw, gee, M. J.!” Jimmy glared up at his big sister. “We’re not babies!”

  “No, you’re not,” Dad agreed. “Just remember, she’s the boss while I’m gone.”

  “Yes, sir.” Jimmy knew better than to say anything else. Instead, he peered at my dinner plate. “Whatcha eating, Ty?”

  “Hot dogs,” I mumbled around a big bite. I liked chocolate ice cream with syrup, whipped cream, and cherries too—I’d already taken my lactase supplement—and I knew if I wanted any I’d better hurry up and finish dinner.

  “My mom doesn’t make ’em that way.”

  “Try a bite. It’s really good! Dad tops them with salsa, chorizo, and lots of shredded cheese.”

  “Chor-what?”

  “It’s a Spanish sausage.”

  “Uh… no, thanks. I ate before we came.”

  “Okay, but you don’t know what you’re missing!”

  “All right, I’ve got to be going.” Dad tugged a lock of my hair. “Mary Jo, you know where all the phone numbers are.”

  “Yes.”

  “I’m not expecting any packages, so please don’t open the door to anyone.”

  I looked up at Dad. He’d never been worried to leave me with M. J. before. Come to think of it, he’d seemed really on edge the past few days, ever since we’d visited Uncle Phil.

  “It’s okay, Mr. Small.” M. J. smiled at him. “We’ll be fine.”

  “All right. I’ll be back about ten thirty. Be good, boys.”

  “We will, Mr. Small.”

  “Yes, Dad. Bye.”

  AFTER WE finished our homework, and with the empty ice cream bowls soaking in the sink, Jimmy decided he wanted to play explorer.

  “There’s nowhere to explore here,” I protested. I loved this house, but the rooms on the first floor opened into each other, and there were only the two bedrooms upstairs, plus the bathrooms that adjoined them.

  “Yes, there is! The attic!”

  “Why? It’s dark up there.” I only went there after Thanksgiving to help Dad bring the decorations and lights and stuff downstairs, and then after the end of the Christmas holidays on January 7—Dad told me that was Romanian tradition—to take them back up. There was enough light during the day, but at night there was only a single lightbulb, and it didn’t cast much light.

  “Cool! We can play monsters as well!”

  “You’re nuts, Jimmy! You’re my friend, but you’re nuts!”

  “Listen, you two. I’ve got to study for a trig exam. Go play. Just don’t kill yourselves.”

  “Come on, Ty! Don’t be a scaredy-cat! Please? Please, please, please, please, please!”

  “Okay,” I agreed reluctantly. Then I muttered, “But you better not let the monsters get me!”

  Jimmy followed me up the stairs to the second floor. He went to a hallway door and pulled it open. “Hey, where are the stairs to the attic?” It was the linen closet.

  “There’s a hatch in the closet in my dad’s bedroom.”

  “Really? Whoa, that is so awesome! At my house we just have to open a door and climb the stairs.”

  I knew. I’d been in his attic. It was bigger than ours, but there were windows on every side, so there was plenty of light. I took a couple of flashlights from the closet and handed one to Jimmy. “Come on. Dad’s bedroom is this way.”

  It was only a few steps down the hall. I reached inside the door to the bedroom and fumbled for the light switch. Once it was on, we went in and I led the way to the closet.

  “Will your dad mind that we’re going in his closet?”

  “Fine time for you to ask, but no. Not as long as we don’t touch anything, I guess.” I opened the closet door and flipped on the light switch.

  “There’s not much in here to touch, just clothes.”

  I shrugged. That
was all Dad kept in his closet. And shoes and work boots.

  “Okay, how do we get up there?”

  “See that cord? We just have to pull it down.” I put down my flashlight and jumped up, trying to reach it, but fell short. “Shoot.” I tried again, but I still couldn’t get my hands on it.

  “Hold on, Shorty. Let me try.” Jimmy put his flashlight beside mine, but he didn’t have any more success than I’d had.

  I didn’t bother telling him not to call me Shorty. He wouldn’t listen anyway. “Hmm. Maybe if you give me a boost?”

  He looked me up and down, then nodded, grasped me around my hips, and hoisted me up. “But you better not fart in my face, Ty!”

  “Geez, you’re a jerk.” I stretched my arm up as high as I could get it, gave a bit of a wriggle to get it higher, and caught the cord. “Got it!”

  “Good!” Before I could ask him to put me down, Jimmy let me go, and I dropped to the floor.

  “Thanks a lot!” I groused.

  “The hatch is open, isn’t it? Now, how do we get to the stairs?”

  “You’re gonna have to give me another boost.”

  “It’s easier to go up in the attic at my house!”

  “Yeah, well, this was your idea.” I got a grip on the stairs, and they unfolded, and we picked up our flashlights and climbed up.

  “There really isn’t much up here,” I told him as I reached for the string attached to the chain for the light. I gave it a tug.

  “Wow, you’re right!” Jimmy looked around, his disappointment obvious. “What’s in the boxes?”

  “You’ve seen what’s in them: ornaments, strings of Christmas lights, the nativity scene.”

  “What’s in that one?”

  “Which one?”

  “The one over there in the corner.”

  I turned and looked where he was pointing. There, barely visible in the shadows, was a small box I’d never noticed before.

  THE UNION meeting had ended early, and Dad was home. He’d paid M. J., and she and Jimmy had left. He would have driven them home, but M. J. had recently gotten her license, and she drove whenever she could find an excuse for it.

  “You should be asleep, Ty,” Dad said as he came in from walking the Giant.

  I should, but I’d waited up for him.

  “I know. I….”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I have to show you something, Daddy.” I fanned out the photos. “Who… who are these people?”

  He turned pale and stared at them for a long minute. Then he pointed to each of the children who sat before a Christmas tree, opening their presents. “Matthew. Luke. Sarah. Bethany.”

  I swallowed. “Who are they?”

  “Your brothers and sisters.”

  “And… and this one?” It was of a woman taking a turkey from the oven, smiling up at him. Such a beautiful smile.

  He didn’t look at it. Instead he picked up the videotape. “You should see this, Tyrell.” He turned on the television, slipped the tape into the VCR, and hit Play.

  I stared at the screen in fascination. Birthday parties and pool parties, and a small reddish-brown dog. Other kids had moms and brothers and sisters, and here were mine!

  “Dad!” I turned to my father to see tears had welled up in his eyes and spilled down his cheeks.

  That was when I knew he still loved her, and it was because of me she’d taken my older siblings and left.

  “It’s… I’ve… Dad, I’m kind of tired. If it’s okay, can I go to bed now?”

  “Sure, Ty.” He rewound the tape, popped it out of the VCR, and turned off the television. “Go on. I’ll be up in a couple of minutes to tuck you in.”

  I FORCED myself back to the present. “How do you know about my family, anyway?” I demanded of the vampyr who stood before me.

  “I’ve always been fascinated by your line.”

  “My line?”

  “Your mother is of the Dragomir saborese family. It’s very old, dating back to before the turn of the century.”

  “Huh? Nineteenth? That’s not old.”

  “The first century.” He sighed. “As for your father, he’s a Lupescu.”

  “No, he’s not. He’s a Small!”

  He gave me a look, and I shut up. Oh, yeah. The name would have been changed, as so many others had been, when the great-great-grands had landed on Ellis Island.

  Though how anyone could misunderstand Lupescu for Small….

  “Your mother’s people came to this country during the Terror.”

  “When? Oh, you mean the French Revolution. Okay. But Dragomir isn’t a French name.”

  “No, it’s Romanian. But my subjects are from every nation in Europe. I—”

  “Wait a second! Your subjects? Who the heck are you?”

  “I am the rege.”

  “The—” I felt myself flush. The king of the vampyrs was in my house? “Uh… should I kneel?”

  “No.” He laughed again, and the tug returned, even stronger. “As I was saying, I was needed in France to help the French vampyrs flee.” The laughter was gone now, and he observed me somberly. “A guillotine is as effective in destroying a vampyr as a stake through the heart.”

  “Yes, I can understand that.”

  “While I was away, an incident occurred back home. A Dragomir sabor was taken before he reached maturity.”

  I suddenly remembered some of the nightmare I’d had the other night, and I turned cold.

  “When the father attempted to come to the child’s aid, he was drained dry, as was his oldest son. The only one left alive was the mother, and only because she was away.”

  “Helping with the birth of a baby?”

  “You know? But I thought—” He stopped when he saw my face.

  “No! I mean, isn’t it logical that’s why she’d be away from home at night?” I must have turned sheet-white, or maybe just green. How….

  “Of course, Tyrell.” He rested a hand on my shoulder, and for some reason my agitation eased. “At any rate, I didn’t learn of the debacle until I returned. By that time, the damage was done. The family was wiped out, and she had disappeared.”

  “Wait a minute. If the family was dead, how do you explain my mother?”

  “Madame Dragomir was pregnant at the time.”

  “Oh. Sure. That makes sense.”

  “She raised her child to fear vampyrs and to detest those associated with them—sabors.”

  “What? But they didn’t have anything to do with the family getting dead.”

  “She felt it was the boy’s fault. If he hadn’t been born a sabor, the vampyr would have left the family alone.”

  “She believed that?” I thought about the bloodsucker in my nightmare. The father and the brother hadn’t been sabors, but he’d drained them anyway.

  He shrugged. “Her man and sons were slaughtered. She’d lost everything, and she had to blame someone.”

  “That’s so sick.” That poor little kid had done nothing but open the door to a monster. “Why not hate the asshole who couldn’t keep his fangs behind his lips?”

  “That isn’t done. Saborese families are raised to revere vampyrs.”

  “Even vampyrs who wiped out their family?”

  “The vampyr responsible for this act was not a normal vampyr. He agreed to be turned, thinking he would rise up in our hierarchy, not realizing only vampyrs who were born are permitted to rule.”

  “Wait a minute! Vampyrs can be born?”

  “Of course. Aren’t all living things born?”

  “Well, yeah, but… vampyrs? How…?” I held up my hand. “Never mind, I don’t think I want to know.” The image of two vampyrs mating made me want to wash my eyes with bleach.

  “Vampyr births are extremely rare, which is why those who can reproduce in that manner are considered royalty.”

  “What about that creep who was here before?”

  “He was turned by Adam’s mother and became… disgruntled when he realized his ambition
s would come to nothing, that no matter what he did, he would never rule.”

  Well, didn’t it suck to be him? “Hold on a second! You mean Adam is a… a born vampyr? A vampyr prince?”

  “Duke, actually, but yes.”

  “Does that make Adam related to you?”

  “My nephew.”

  “Wow!” As an American, I’d always been vaguely impressed by the actions of the royals in Europe, and now I’d not only fed one, but I was entertaining one in my living room.

  Mr. Mondragon… His Majesty… Mr. Mondragon seemed amused by my reaction.

  Abruptly he became alert, glanced toward my front window, and then down at the watch on his wrist. “I’m afraid I must be off. It will be dawn soon enough.”

  It would? I checked my own wristwatch. Wow. Talk about time flying. It was almost four in the morning.

  Four in the morning? I groaned.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I have class at eight. I’m going to be wiped out.”

  “You could take the day off.”

  “The third day of school? I don’t think so. Besides, my chem professor will have my ass.”

  The rege brought his hand to his mouth, but I had a feeling it was just to hide a smile behind it. “I don’t think so. However, if you insist on attending class, I can see you sleep, and wake rested.” He arched his eyebrow.

  “What will that entail?”

  “How do you put it? One for the road?”

  I wanted to say no, but how could I? This was my destiny.

  “Okay, I guess.”

  “Your enthusiasm overwhelms me, Tyrell.”

  “Sorry.” I found myself smiling at him, my dick suddenly interested, and I yanked my sweatshirt over my head and offered him my neck.

  He turned me around, his body firm against my back, wrapped his arms around my chest, and licked my birthmark.

  I shivered. It felt good. Not as good as when Adam did it, but….

  “You’re going to sleep now, Tyrell, and when you wake in three hours, you’ll feel as refreshed as if you’d slept for eight hours.” There was a slight sting as his fangs entered my throat, and I waited for the euphoria of a fantastic orgasm, but if it washed over me, it must have done so after I’d fallen asleep.