They Come by Night (7 page)

BOOK: They Come by Night
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And, shoot, he was right. Now that I was outside, I could feel the chill bite of the autumn night.

“I’m Adam, by the way. Adam Dasani. It’s not that bad, you know.”

“What isn’t that bad?”

“Being a sabor.”

“How would
you
know? Are you a sabor?”

“No, I’m a vampyr.”

I would have fallen off the roof for real, except he reached over, snagged my hand with negligent ease, and kept me from splattering my brains out down below.

“Does everybody know about this except me?” I tugged my hand free.

“Well, your father
should
have told you a few years ago.”

“Listen, you. My father is a good man, and don’t you say otherwise!”

“He’s a very good man, Tyrell. And you know it’s going to kill him when he finds you gone in the morning.”

“But how can I stay? I don’t want to be vampyr kibble.”

“That’s the last thing you’re going to be.” He sighed. “I wish I knew why you young sabors aren’t told what to expect before a vampyr comes to claim you.”

“Can… can you tell me?”

“I’m not supposed to. That privilege goes to the vampyr who’ll drink from you the first time. As a matter of fact—”

“Don’t tell me. You’re not even supposed to be here.” I scowled at him, and my scowl deepened when he laughed. “Then why are you here? No, wait, I know. You can’t tell me.”

He grinned ruefully and shrugged.

“Can you at least tell me if it will hurt?”

His face took on a dreamy expression. “Oh, no. It won’t hurt at all, I promise you.”

“And that’s all you’re going to tell me? Well, I think that sucks. Uh….”

He laughed. “Yes, I guess you could say that.”

“Will my vampyr be a man or a woman?”


Your vampyr
.” Did he sound wistful? No, what was I thinking? “That’s a unique way of putting it.”

“How else is there to put it?”

“No other way, I suppose.” He reached out, as if to stroke the mark on my throat, and I tensed and held my breath, but then he seemed to change his mind, and he drew his hand back. “Just remember, you are what you are, and running away won’t make it any different.” He looked up at the night sky, but I didn’t know what he was searching for. “I have to go.”

“Well, bye.”

His smile became wistful. “Good-bye, Tyrell Small. I do hope I’ll be your vampyr.”

And just like that, I was alone on the roof. I listened for the sound of bat wings, but the night was silent except for the slight rush of the wind.

I thought about what he’d told me, not that it was much. I thought about being out in the woods without my jacket, with a single change of clothes, no food, and no money. Even if I hadn’t forgotten my wallet, there were only a couple of fives in it.

No, there’d be no running away for Mr. Small’s little boy.

Oh, well. I couldn’t leave Dad anyway. What would he do without me?

I climbed back into my room, replaced the screen, and closed the window. Once my backpack was emptied and my books were back in it, I got ready for bed.

And then a thought hit me. How the heck had Adam known my name?

 

 

W
HEN
I
woke the next morning, it was to find I’d grown an inch and there was a narrow line of hair growing from just below my belly button down to my dick.

 

 

T
HAT WEEKEND
,
I told Dad I was going for a run to try out my new Nikes, and he just smiled and nodded.

I did run, but only as far as the bus stop, where I caught the 5A that would drop me off about a quarter mile from my Uncle Phil’s small cottage.

As I jogged up the curved walk to his front door, it occurred to me that maybe I should have called to make sure he was home. Well, it was too late to worry about that now. And besides, a car was parked in his driveway.

I rang the bell.

The door opened, but only to the length of the chain that secured it. “I’m not looking for Jesus—can’t you people keep track of him?—and if you’re not peddling religion, then whatever it is you
are
peddling, I don’t want it.”

“I’m not peddling anything. It’s me, Uncle Phil. Ty. Your nephew. I really need to talk to you.”

An eye peeked around the open door, and he studied me for a few minutes before nodding. “Your father finally told you you’re a sabor, didn’t he?”

“Yes, but that was all he told me. I don’t know anything. Even the vampyr—”

“What vampyr?”

“I-I was going to run away the night Dad told me, but this vampyr was waiting outside my window.”

“You didn’t invite him in, did you?” He’d turned a sickly white.

“No. I was already out of my room.”

“Kind of short, swarthy. Spanish accent?”

“No. Blond, I couldn’t tell his height—he was sitting down—and as for accent… I couldn’t tell what it was.”

He blew out a breath of relief. “We can’t talk about this on my doorstep.”

“Thanks.”

He unchained the door but stood blocking my way, shoving a cross in my face.

“Uncle Phil?” The next thing I knew, I had a snootful of water. “Geez, Uncle Phil! What the heck is that about?”

“Holy water.” He stared at me intently, then frowned and began tossing symbols from apparently every religion he could think of at me: a Star of David, a crescent moon, a small Buddha that left a bump over my left eyebrow, even a pentacle. “Sorry. Just making sure you’re not a vampyr.”

“You keep all that stuff handy by your front door?” And then I realized what he’d said. “But it’s broad daylight!”

“Do you think that makes any difference?”

“Uh… I thought they only come by night?”

“They do, but you… if you’ve been bitten and the turning process is started—”

For a second I thought my eyes were going to pop out of my head. He thought…. “Well, he didn’t bite me. But does that mean that once he does, I’ll turn into a vampyr too?” Oh crap, was this something else I had to worry about?

He stared at me with those haunted eyes, and then dug his fingers into his temples. “No, of course you won’t turn. Don’t pay any attention to me. I’m talking nonsense. Come on in.”

I entered his foyer cautiously. Had my uncle gone off the deep end? This wasn’t the best time to think of it, but was I safe here?

“What did your father tell you?”

“Huh?” I glanced around casually. Okay, I had a clear path to the front door if I had to make a run for it. I’d just have to make sure it stayed that way. “Oh, that in a couple of years a vampyr will come to claim me.”

“And…?”

What did he mean, “and”? “That was all.”

He shook his head. “If that isn’t like Ben. Okay, I’ll tell you what I can. Want a glass of milk?”

“No, thanks. I didn’t bring the lactase. I’m lactose intolerant.”

“You are?” He looked confused. “I’ve never heard…. Never mind. How about a Coke?”

“Uh… sure. Thanks.” I gave him a head start, then followed him down a short corridor and into the kitchen, which was super small.

He handed me a bottle that quickly began sweating condensation. “All right, this is the way it is. He won’t fuck you.”

Why does everyone keep saying “he”? Do I look gay?

He continued. “
She
won’t expect you to fuck her. You’ll never penetrate or be penetrated. A virgin’s blood is what they want. That’s why a sabor reaches puberty so much later than normal humans.”

I paused in twisting off the bottle cap. “But Dad said I was normal!”

“Ha! What does he know? He didn’t have to worry about being valued only for the blood in his veins. He was able to marry and father children, even if the woman he chose was a witch.”

“Huh? My mother is a
witch
?”

He sighed impatiently. “Not literally, Ty.”

“So we don’t even get to come?” It came out snippier than I’d intended. But then again, maybe not? I might have reached puberty only a few days before, but I’d still listened when the other boys talked about sex.

“Your generation likes to think it’s so hip and happening and now, but it’s no more so than previous generations.” He looked directly at me, and while there was exasperation in his eyes, again I saw the sadness in them. “Oh, they see we enjoy the act. In fact….” He glanced away, his face pale. “It’s addictive, Ty. Maybe we’re wired that way. If it didn’t feel so good….”

Feeling good was fine, but, “Suppose he looks like that guy from
Nosferatu
, with the weird teeth in the front of his mouth and the crazy eyes and long, skinny fingers?”

Uncle Phil smiled wryly. “No need to worry about that, Ty. They’re all very attractive.”

“Suppose he’s old?”

“Vampyrs don’t look old until they’re about to die.”

“They can die?”

“All creatures do. It’s the nature of things. Vampyrs have a very long life span, and it just takes them longer than the rest of us. There’s a school of thought that holds that’s possible because of the blood they drink from us.”

“Suppose he”—I swallowed—“wants to have sex with me?”

“He won’t.” He didn’t question that I hadn’t added the qualifying “or she.” “There are reasons why there are laws, and when they’re broken, the consequence is swift and irrevocable.”

That didn’t sound good, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to know what the consequence might be. I took a swallow of Coke, waiting for him to tell me more.

“Sabors fall in love with the vampyr who comes to them, but only for the time they’re together, until the vampyr moves on. Sometimes it’s after a day. Sometimes it’s after a couple of days. It all depends on how much blood the vampyr needs. They leave us once they’re done feeding.”

“Do we stay in love with them?”

“Oh, no. When the next vampyr comes to us, we’ll fall just as madly in love with her.” He studied me thoughtfully. “Him.”

I felt myself flush. “Um…. How often do they… uh… come to us?” I couldn’t bring myself to even think the word “feed.”

“We’re given about two months to recover between visits, although it can be longer than that.” He crossed to a window and stared out of it. “That factor in our blood that they need to have? We need to have it drawn. It can become painful for us if we go too long without a visit from one of them.”

Didn’t that suck? And oh, great. I’d just made a pun.

I disregarded it—I had other things on my mind. “How do they see us? I mean, are we just a buffet to them, or do they see us as a person, or….” Or maybe did they love us back?

Uncle Phil seemed to know what I was asking. “The vampyr doesn’t fall in love in return.”

“What, never?”

“Well, they aren’t supposed to. I’ve never heard of one doing so.” He didn’t answer my other questions, and I realized that was answer enough.

“Maybe he did, but they just didn’t want sabors to know?”

“Don’t set yourself up for a fall, Tyrell. No matter what we… you… want to believe, vampyrs won’t love us.”

“Well, that sucks.” And the heck with the pun. “Not only don’t I get to have sex for the rest of my life, but I don’t get someone to love me.”

“Your father loves you. So does the rest of the family.”

“You know what I mean. I’ll be some vampyr’s chew toy for the rest of my life.”

“It will be a long life.”

Like that was going to compensate for being passed from one vampyr to another. Six a year, for the rest of my life? No, that was no compensation at all! And how was I going to deal with them touching me?

“Do they… do they still come for you, Uncle Phil?” He was pretty old, at least forty.

“Not for a long time.”

“But you said it hurt if they didn’t feed from us.”

He rolled back his sleeves. Deep cuts scarred his arms, and I felt nauseous. He must have seen how sick I looked. “No, they weren’t attempts at suicide. We can’t… sabors don’t have the option of an easy out. This? It was the only way I could get any relief.”

“I’m… I’m sorry.”

He covered his arms, and when he met my gaze, his eyes had taken on a wistful expression. “My vampyr…. Her name was Vidalia.”

I bit my lip in an effort to keep from asking, “You mean like the onion?” That would have been cold. “What happened?”

“She was the most beautiful creature I’d ever seen, younger than the other vampyrs who’d come to me, and I fell in love with her as soon as she entered my home, just as I expected to, but afterward, after she left… I
hungered
for her.” He looked out the window. “I’d go around for days with a hard-on….”

“Uh… too much information, Uncle Phil.”

“Sorry.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Maybe she sensed it. I don’t know. I do know she came to me more often than any of the others. And then one night, we made love while she was drinking from me. I knew we shouldn’t—there’s a reason why penetration isn’t permitted—but I couldn’t resist her. She nearly drained me. After that…. Well, I was no longer a virgin.”

“And that vampyr dumped you?” The bitch!

“No! She…. It wasn’t her fault.” There was aching loss in his words, and it almost broke my heart. “She….” His hesitation was noticeable, and I wondered what she had done, but when he continued, he simply said, “She stayed with me until I recovered, and when she got ready to leave, I wanted to beg her not to go, but of course she couldn’t stay, so instead I begged her to come back to me.”

“They don’t? We never see them again?”

“Of course we do. There aren’t very many of us. But usually it’s after a few years.” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “The words were hardly out of my mouth before I realized she would never be able to return to me. I promised I’d keep what we’d done locked in my heart. ‘Do you think you can keep that a secret?’ Vidalia asked in the saddest voice I’d ever heard. ‘Do you think
I
can?’ She ran her fingers over my birthmark, then left me without saying another word. But I was going to prove to her how worthy of her I was. I’d
never
tell anyone, and she’d see that and come back to me. And I suppose I thought it wouldn’t matter. You see, before the Plague, we were a luxury reserved for only the royalty and the nobility.”

“But Dad told me sabors weren’t discovered until after the Plague.”

BOOK: They Come by Night
6.59Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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