They Come by Night Page 8

  “All right, Ty,” he whispered against my throat. He closed his fingers around me, jerking me off with powerful strokes, and, “Now!” His fangs sank into me.

  “Oh!” There was no pain. There was nothing except pleasure so extreme, so intense, that when I finally exploded in an orgasm, I blacked out.

  I’D NEVER had dreams like that before, dreams where I barely had time to catch my breath before I tumbled into another powerful climax. If this was what being a sabor entailed, I was very happy to be one.

  “Ty.” A cool palm stroked over my cheek, and I smiled and nuzzled into it.

  “Wow!” Uncle Phil hadn’t been kidding when he said they made it good for us! Granted, I didn’t have anything to compare this experience with, but…. “Wow!”

  “Ah. I guess it’s safe to say you’re with me once more.”

  “I’m with you, Adam.” I’d always be with him.

  That thought startled me, and I bit my lip. I’d fallen in love with him, in spite of my best intentions.

  But wasn’t that just the sabor/vampyr thing?

  “And you enjoyed it?”

  “Are you kidding?” I opened my eyes lazily, certain they showed how sated I was. “It was awesome!”

  “Thank you.” He looked pleased.

  “Yeah, yeah, I know, ‘no applause, just throw money.’”

  He laughed, a deep sound that burrowed inside me and curled around my dick.

  Of course it was the sabor/vampyr thing.

  Of course it was.

  He pressed cool lips to the spot on my throat where he’d drunk from me.

  “Why didn’t it hurt?”

  “There’s something in our saliva that acts as a natural anesthetic.”

  “Oh. So it isn’t just you?”

  He made a noncommittal sound, tipped my chin up, and for the first time kissed me. “I have to go now.”

  “What?” I sat up abruptly, nearly tumbling both of us to the floor. When had we wound up in bed? “It’s only been a few hours!”

  “It’s been longer than that.” His talisman dangled between us, and I gripped it and battled down my panic.

  “You can’t go yet!”

  “I have to, Ty.” He nodded toward the window. The curtains were parted, and I could see that while it wasn’t light out, it wasn’t quite as dark. “I stayed as long as I dared, but I can’t stay any longer.”

  So it was over between us. Okay. I wasn’t going to be girly about it and beg him to stay. And then I felt bad, thinking of Uncle Phil and his vampyr. I sighed. “Your clothes?”

  “We scattered them all over the house.”

  “We did?”

  “You’re a wild man, Ty. Thank you.”

  “Oh.” I blushed. I’d never expected anyone to call me wild. “How long will I remember you?”

  “You remembered me for two years.”

  “Yeah.” What did that have to do with it?

  “You’ll remember me for another year.”

  “Huh?”

  “I’ll see you on your next birthday.”

  “You will?”

  “I will. I’m your vampyr, after all. You said it yourself.”

  “I did, didn’t I?” I smiled as he walked out of the room, enjoying the view, the bunch and flow of his muscles. His skin was pale—well, he wouldn’t be able to go to the beach. Absently I wondered if he could use a tanning bed. He’d look gorgeous with an allover tan…. “Wait! Adam, wait!”

  I bumped into him as he was returning to the bedroom, buttoning his shirt.

  “What is it?”

  “I thought you were going to leave without saying good-bye.”

  “Never. Now, I want you to hold on to this.” It was a cell phone. “Don’t lose it. Right now it has just one number logged into it, in case you ever need to contact me.”

  “But I thought….”

  “What? That I’d take what I wanted from you and then leave you? No.” He kissed me a final time and nodded toward the head of the bed.

  There was the pillow I’d had all my life. I’d completely forgotten about it, but someone… maybe Adam, maybe Dad… had made sure it came with me. Suddenly this felt more like my home.

  “Good-bye, Ty.” He tipped up my chin, smiled into my eyes. “Don’t love the other vampyrs as much as you love me.”

  He brushed his lips over mine, and then he left me standing in the bedroom.

  “Never!” I whispered. I didn’t hear the front door open or close, but somehow I knew he was no longer in the bungalow.

  I’d loved him. Did I still love him? I ran my fingertips over my birthmark. I didn’t even feel the punctures where he’d drunk from me.

  Suddenly I was starved. I found a pair of sleep pants in the closet organizer with Gossamer, the monster from the Bugs Bunny cartoons, on them, and I pulled them on before heading for the kitchen to see what was in the fridge.

  Was it just the sabor/vampyr thing?

  If it was or wasn’t—it didn’t matter. He’d be back next year, for my next birthday. He’d promised, and I believed him.

  Maybe birthdays didn’t suck so much.

  CHAPTER THREE:

  COME TO ME

  I

  IT WAS Halloween.

  Matthew Crist sat at the front of the visitation room. How ironic Grandfather would be buried on the same day that monster had come into the world.

  When Grandfather had brought Mama and Matthew and his brother and sisters home, he’d told them they would no longer be Smalls. It wasn’t a problem for Mama—she just married someone else—but the courts had to be involved for him and Luke, Sarah, and Bethany.

  And the man who was his father hadn’t cared enough to challenge it. Matthew had overheard Grandfather telling his uncles after he’d come back from the courthouse, because he was too good a man to let his grandchildren know what a bastard their father was.

  That was when Matthew turned his back on Benjamin Small for good and forever. He didn’t need him. He had Grandfather.

  Luke had tried to tell him their father was dead, but Matthew knew that was bullshit. Their grandfather was a righteous man. He might not approve of their father, and maybe he’d give him a black eye or break his nose, but he’d never kill him.

  But the uncles were all gone, and now Grandfather was dead. He shouldn’t have died. They still had too much to do.

  Well, Matthew would do it alone.

  Oh, there were still his uncles’ wives and children, wherever they might be, but the women hadn’t been told anything because they were women, and the children because they were too young. Once they reached puberty, the girls would be prepared for their future as vessels for the next generation of Crists, and the boys as warriors who would hunt down the scum that lurked in the night.

  Only… as each uncle had died, his family had somehow vanished. Grandfather had been furious.

  Grandfather….

  The chair was low, so Matthew couldn’t see his grandfather’s body in the casket unless he stood.

  He should stand. Grandfather would have expected nothing less from him, and he would, but he needed a moment to gather himself.

  He sighed and rubbed his face. He was tired to the bone, but he’d been unable to sleep.

  This had all come as a shock. One moment, Grandfather was standing before him, shaking his fist and telling Matthew their work was all the more necessary now it was just the two of them seeking out and destroying those monsters. The next moment he was clutching his chest and falling to the floor.

  Of course Matthew had acted quickly. Grandfather had taught him to never hesitate. It was a good thing Grandfather had finally agreed to allow him a cell phone. It would have taken precious time to find a phone otherwise, since most pay phones were broken. He’d dialed 911, dropped to the floor beside Grandfather, and placed his fingers on the stricken man’s neck, searching for a pulse. It was there, barely.

  Between counting out compressions and rescue breaths, Matthew had gasped out the
ir location and what information he had to the operator.

  By the time the paramedics had arrived, though, it was too late: Grandfather was gone.

  But not before regaining consciousness a final time and whispering, “Never forget who you are, boy! Never forget what you must do!”

  Slow tears formed in his eyes, and he blinked them away furiously.

  I’ll never forget, Grandfather.

  Matthew rose and approached the casket, and frowned. If only Grandfather didn’t look so angry. His lips were folded together tightly, as if in irritation, and the lines between his brows were pronounced.

  He wore the black suit Matthew had bought just a couple of days before, while waiting for the autopsy to be completed and the body released. Matthew had had to buy one for himself as well; there had never been a need for suits in their lives prior to this.

  Grandfather’s hands, rough and worn, were folded at his waist, the chain of a silver cross wound through his fingers.

  The lower half of the casket was draped in an ostentatious blanket of orchids; the only flowers in the room, since Grandfather didn’t approve of them. Beloved Father the ribbon read, but Matthew knew that was just Mama attempting to assuage her guilt. She hadn’t been around once since she’d married her rich husband and had those brats of hers. Grandfather had been furious—he’d planned for her to marry one of her cousins, but instead she’d met Glenn Taylor in town, and then the next thing any of them knew, she was wearing his ring and having his kids.

  She’d sent lavish gifts to him and his brother and sisters, but he knew she was trying to make up for the fact she didn’t love them anymore.

  And it all came back to Benjamin Small. If he weren’t their father—if he hadn’t fathered that thing—none of this would have happened.

  What was even worse was that Mama wouldn’t be coming to the funeral, either. She’d said she had things to do with her children, but she didn’t mean him or his brother and sisters. She’d meant the twins she’d had with the man who hadn’t wasted any time in getting her pregnant. You’d think no one in the family had ever had twins before.

  Oh wait—no one had.

  And when Matthew had volunteered to delay the funeral so she could be there with his half brothers and stepfather, she’d told him not to bother rescheduling it. “We’ll be there in plenty of time.”

  Why had he believed her? If she hadn’t come to see her father when he was alive, why would she now he was dead?

  And of course she hadn’t. She’d called the night before to tell him the twins had a musical recital, and she wouldn’t be able to make it.

  “I’m sorry, sweetie.” He hated when she called him that. It reminded him of the days when they’d still been a family, before everything had been ruined. “But I promise I’ll arrange a nice memorial service for your grandfather before the holidays.”

  “Fine, Mama.” But it hadn’t been fine. She should have been here to pay her respects to the man who had given her life.

  Matthew rested his hand over Grandfather’s hands, and he bowed his head.

  The sound of footsteps at the back of the room drew his attention, and he turned, expecting to see the somber-faced man telling him it was time to close the casket and take Grandfather to his final resting place.

  There would be no religious service, neither here nor at the grave. Grandfather had formed his own church years and years ago, and now Matthew was the only member left. His seven uncles had been killed, one by one.

  Matthew scowled at the people walking toward him, a man in some sort of dress uniform and two women dressed in black.

  “What are you doing here?” And how dare Bethany and Sarah wear mourning?

  Although at least Sarah had the decency to appear at the wake in a dress that fell past her knees and with her hair scraped back from her pale face, unlike Bethany, whose cheeks were touched with pink and who wore a black pants suit that drew attention to her long legs and narrow waist.

  “We couldn’t let you deal with this alone,” Bethany murmured. She reached out to touch his arm.

  “Why?” He pulled away quickly, and she flushed and let her hand drop.

  “You’re our brother, Matthew, and we love you. And in spite of everything, he was our grandfather. We didn’t agree with how he saw things, but he was still our blood.”

  “Ha! You didn’t care about Grandfather!”

  “Of course we did. Matt, please—”

  “Shut up, Luke! When you left, you as good as betrayed him, all three of you!”

  “How could we stay, Matthew?” Sarah demanded in a low tone. “Grandfather was going to force us into marriage. I could have borne it for myself, but Bethany had just turned fourteen!”

  “And you were only sixteen, Sarah.” Bethany rested her cheek against Sarah’s shoulder, something Matthew remembered her doing as a little girl.

  “It was your task!” He refused to let himself dwell on those days when they’d truly been a family.

  “What, to enter into loveless marriages?”

  “They were fine men! Grandfather selected them himself!”

  Bethany shuddered. “Matthew, they were our first cousins!”

  “They would have kept the line pure!” Unlike the man who’d sired them.

  “Listen to you, brother!” For a moment, Luke’s gray eyes were reminiscent of Grandfather’s. “You’re parroting our grandfather! When did you become a carbon copy of him?”

  When you abandoned me! he wanted to cry, but he kept the words locked behind his lips.

  As soon as Luke had reached adult age, he’d left, taking Sarah and Bethany with him. He’d tried to keep in touch. Matthew knew, because occasionally he’d get the mail before Grandfather. And he didn’t know which he preferred—wondering how his siblings fared, or learning they managed very well without them. Without him.

  Luke had supported their sisters by working as a waiter in some restaurant until Sarah graduated from high school and took a job in a grocery store. Eventually he’d joined some local police force, still setting aside a portion of his pay for them.

  Bethany had done the most with her education. Their youngest sister was now working on her master’s degree in psychology.

  Not that this was something Matthew was proud of, he assured himself. Sarah and Bethany should have married. God had made them to bear sons who would be raised to continue the battle against those who were never to be named, as well as those who served them.

  Luke should have been helping Grandfather and him and their uncles in ridding the world of those vile monsters.

  Instead, they’d ignored Grandfather’s wishes and entered the profane world, and although Grandfather vowed he loved them, he continuously railed against their actions.

  And Matthew strove all the harder to please him.

  “Where’s Mom?”

  “Mama,” he emphasized, “is with her husband and the twins.” Grandfather had insisted they change from the ultracasual Mom to the more traditional Mama. “She doesn’t care either!”

  “Matt, you know that isn’t true!”

  “That’s why she’s here.” He glowered at the three people before him. “Go!” he ordered them. “Grandfather wouldn’t have wanted you here, and I don’t want you here!”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “What I’ve been trained to do since I turned fourteen! I’ll hunt down every monster I can find, including the thing that destroyed our family!” They didn’t need to know that as of yet he’d been unsuccessful. Grandfather had been furious that no matter how close they’d come, they had all been unsuccessful. And then one by one their uncles had died, and now Grandfather….

  “Matthew.” Bethany rested her palm on his shoulder. Her eyes—the dark gray similar to their mother’s and yet so unlike it—stared into his, but didn’t seem to see him. He wanted to shrug off her touch, but something held him still. “Our youngest brother is not the fiend you think him. If you try to hurt him, it won’t go well
with you.”

  “What, are you the Oracle now?” he scoffed, finally freeing himself. “Go back to your life and leave me to mine.”

  “And what is that, Matthew?” Sarah asked softly.

  He glared at her. “I’ll follow in the path Grandfather showed me.”

  “Matt—”

  “Go, I said! You’re no longer my brother or sisters!”

  The three of them faced him, their expressions filled with regret. “Remember, we love you.”

  “I….” What could he say? I don’t care? I love you too? In the end he said nothing.

  They turned and left the reposing room, and Matthew stared after them, his fists clenched so tightly it became painful. He opened his hands and stared down at the half-moon marks left in his palms.

  “Excuse me, Mr. Crist.”

  He drew in a breath and let it out slowly before turning to face the mortician. “Yes?”

  “It’s time to close the casket.”

  “Do it.”

  MATTHEW WAS the only one at the gravesite. Not even the cousins Grandfather had chosen for Sarah and Bethany had come. Had they abandoned Grandfather’s beliefs, or had they met a more dire fate?

  He looked around and shivered. The sky was beginning to darken, although it wasn’t that late, and the air had grown chilly.

  There was nothing for him to do but go home, but he couldn’t. To that spare, empty house, made even emptier now Grandfather was gone?

  No. He’d stop at Donnelly’s and have a drink or two, in memory of his beloved grandfather.

  Tomorrow would be soon enough to begin planning to find that monster.

  And when he did, he’d destroy it so horrifically it would wish it had never been born.

  II

  IT WAS Halloween.

  Larry Donnelly, owner and night bartender of Donnelly’s Pub, was a big fan of the holiday. He had a humongous rubber ghoul hanging from the ceiling, the cutout of a witch on the door to the ladies’ room and a warlock on the men’s room door, a string of pumpkin lights outlining the mirror behind the bar, and orange and black napkins. His black cat, Submarine, wore a tiny pirate hat and was given free access to the establishment on that day.