They Come by Night

Magdalena Dr. Vargas came bustling into the delivery room. “And how are we doing?” he asked, a little too cheerfully. Magdalena Small caught her breath and glared at him. “I don’t know how you’re doing,” she snapped, “but I’m ready to tear off Ben’s testicles and shove them down his throat if he ever comes near me again.” “Oh…ah…Hah-ha,” Dr. Vargas laughed weakly. He didn’t seem to know if she was making a joke or being serious. “I’m not joking.” “I know, sweetheart.” Her husband stood beside her. He was a tall, dark-haired man who was so good-looking, the only surprise would have been if she hadn’t gotten pregnant. Ben took her hand and stroked it. “And I promise, I’ll never touch you again.” She turned her glare on him, about to snarl that he’d better not be making fun of her, when another contraction hit her. “All right, Mrs. Small, you can push now.” She didn’t waste her breath saying it was about damn time. She began to push. “The head is crowning. Ah, a caul. Let me just make a couple of openings so he can breathe. Your son is going to be very lucky.” They’d had an ultrasound and knew this baby was a boy. They even had a name all picked out: Tyrell, after a character in one of Ben’s favorite books. She’d decided she could let him have this, since she’d named their other four children, good, solid names from the Bible. “Stop pushing!” Vargas’s voice suddenly became sharp. “The cord’s wrapped around his throat.” “Ben!” Magdalena gritted her teeth and then panted through the urge to push. He slid an arm around her shoulders. “It’s okay, sweetheart.” “Okay, I’ve got it.” Dr. Vargas exclaimed. He could be excited, the quack; he wasn’t trying to push a basketball through a keyhole. “Now, give me another push.” And just like that, the intolerable pressure eased off as the baby slipped out of her and began wailing his head off. “Let me just peel off the caul. And…here we go. Do you want us to preserve it for you?” “No. Yes…” She wasn’t sure what he was talking about. “I’ll take care of it, Doctor.” Who…? Oh, that must be one of the nurses. “What a crop of curls! No wonder why you had such morning sickness.” Did he have to sound so happy about it? “Here’s your son, Mrs. Small. He’s a little small for a full term baby. In fact, I expected him to weigh more, considering your gestational diabetes, but he’s a ten on the Apgar scale.” She angled up on her elbow, squinting to see him more clearly, but he was covered in vernix. And she was so tired, it felt as if her eyes were crossing. This had been her longest labor, in spite of the fact it was her fifth, and subsequent deliveries were supposed to go faster and easier. This entire pregnancy had been difficult, from morning sickness that wasn’t restricted to mornings and lasted until almost eight months, to gestational diabetes, to the threat of pre-eclampsia. But it was worth it, having this latest edition to their family. It proved she was still a vital, desirable woman, although this was something she’d never reveal to anyone. The baby boy had stopped crying and seemed to be watching her with his father’s beautiful blue eyes. “Happy birthday, little boy,” she murmured around a huge yawn. “You need to rest, Mrs. Small. You can see him after the nurse has taken him to be cleaned up.” She didn’t hear anything more as she slipped into an exhausted doze. * * * * How much time had passed? Magdalena was still tired. She dug her elbows into the mattress in an effort to raise herself in the bed, wincing as the roughness of the sheet abraded both elbows. “Here, Mom. Let me help you.” Matthew, their oldest, elevated the head of the bed with the control, and then carefully helped her to a sitting position. He was only eleven, but he was more mature than any of the boys he went to school with, and she was so proud of him. “Thanks, sweetie. The nurse should be bringing in your new baby brother soon.” “We saw him in the nursery, but I can’t wait to see him up close. We men finally outnumber the girls in this family.” He gave her a saucy grin, and her heart turned over. Of course she loved all her children. She just loved Matthew a little bit more. “Are you upset you couldn’t go trick or treating?” Truthfully she was glad they had missed it. Pagan holiday! “No. We had the party at school, and Dad let me go around for a little while with Andy. Luke went with his friend Tommy. Dad took Sarah and Bethany.” She really shouldn’t complain. Ben was a heathen, as she’d discovered soon after their marriage, but he didn’t interfere with their children’s religious upbringing, and so she overlooked it, prayed for him, and hoped he’d see the light. “Where are your brother and sisters?” “They’re with Dad, down in the gift shop. The flowers are supposed to be from all of us, but this is from me—just from me.” He handed her a small, floppy little bear. “His name is Brownie.” “He’s lovely, Matthew. Thank you.” Just then her other children burst into the room, followed by their father, holding what looked like a virtual garden. Magdalena looked at the flowers and smiled at Ben. “How are you feeling, sweetheart?” He crossed to the bed and leaned down to kiss her. “Fine.” She knew by his expression he didn’t believe her. “Better.” He still wasn’t buying it, and she capitulated, admitting in spite of herself it was nice not to have to be strong all the time. “A little sore. Tired.” “All right, kids.” He put the flowers on the bedside table. “Mom’s tired. Give her a kiss good night and go wait by the nurses’ station. I’ll be along in a few minutes. And behave! If I hear even a hint that the nurses had to send for security, I’m gonna sell you to the Martians.” “Sure, Dad.” They laughed at him, Ben had been promising forever to do that if they misbehaved, and the children thought it was very funny, especially since, as Luke took great glee in pointing out, no Martians lived in their neighborhood. Magdalena frowned. She had worried they’d be traumatized and was relieved when they weren’t. However, she didn’t like when her husband said things like that where other people might hear. They’d think she and Ben were bad parents, and they weren’t. Her children did as they were told—she was always pleased when people complimented her on how well-behaved they were—and they excelled in school and sports and all the after-school activities they were involved in: dance and Scouting and various crafts. “I’m glad you’re okay, Mom.” Matthew lingered at the door. “G’night.” “Good night, Matthew.” She waited until he was gone before turning to Ben. “So they’ve seen the baby. What do they think of him?” Tyrell hadn’t been planned. They were happy with their two boys and two girls and had been certain their family was complete. In fact, they’d given all the baby clothes and furniture to Goodwill. She’d felt so awful through much of this pregnancy, the task of getting new things for the baby had fallen to Ben. Maybe that was why this whole experience seemed so surreal. “They weren’t too impressed. He was howling his head off.” Ben’s blue eyes crinkled with amusement, and her heart gave a little flip. She loved him so much sometimes it scared her. She’d married him against her parents’ wishes—they had wanted her to marry one of her cousins—but Ben’s blue eyes and dark good looks had swayed her to disobey her father for the first time in her life. In addition, Ben had promised everything would be fine, and it was. He was a good provider and a wonderful husband. And he was so good with the children. “Was he all right? I don’t remember any of the others doing that.” “Dr. Margoles said everything is fine.” She sighed in relief. Dr. Margoles had been the children’s pediatrician since Matthew’s birth. “Ty’s weight is a little low, and Dr. M. wants to keep him here until he hits six pounds. The minute he does, we can take him home.” “Will the insurance cover it?” Although she wasn’t really worried. Ben’s union offered excellent benefits. “Sure, sweetheart.” Ben stroked her hair, and she leaned into him. A nurse walked in just then, wheeling a bassinet. “Here’s the newest member of your family.” Ben picked up the tiny bundle with competent hands. He wasn’t like some fathers who were only comfortable with their children once they reached the age of reason. He’d pitch in and help her, walking the floor at night if necessary. And she could see from the besotted expression on his face he was already hopelessly in love with their newest son. Magdalena held out her arms. “Let me have him.” Tyrell was swaddled from his neck to his feet, and a blue and white cap covered his head. A few wisps of black hair stuck out. With the baby cradled in her arms, she lowered the front opening of her nightgown and put him to her breast. “Ouch! He’s a greedy one!” She began to sing softly to him, and he opened his eyes, staring up at her with seeming wonder. She ran a finger over his cheek—it was so soft—and smiled up at her husband. “He has your coloring, Ben, your eyes as well as your hair.” “Do you think? All babies have blue eyes, don’t they? The others did, but now they all have gray eyes, just like their mom.” “No, I know this little boy will be the spitting image of his daddy.” She burped Tyrell and put him to her other breast. “Ben, the children are going to get restless. You’d better take them home.” “Are you sure you don’t want me to stay? The nurse won’t be back for a while. I can wait and put him back in his bassinet.” “No, I think he’ll be eating for a while longer.” Actually, she wanted to have some time alone with this new baby. She would have been told if anything was wrong, but she needed to reassure herself, just as she had with each of the others. When Ben had first asked her to marry him, he’d assured her things would work out for them, but a peek wouldn’t hurt. And he didn’t need to know she was worried. She raised her face for his kiss and relaxed against him for a moment, then smiled at him. “Make sure the children brush their teeth and say their prayers.” “I will, Maggie. We’ll be back as soon as visiting hours start tomorrow.” “That’s right, there’s no school tomorrow.” It was All Saints Day. “Good night, little boy.” Ben brushed a kiss over Tyrell’s cheek. “Good night, sweetheart.” He leaned down for a final kiss. “Good night, Ben.” She rocked the baby and hummed, and wished her husband would hurry and leave so she could be alone with her newest child. * * * * Ben Ben walked out of the room, pausing, as his oldest son had, to gaze back at his wife. God, he loved her. He’d made her a promise, not knowing if he could keep it. There was something that ran in his family line, and when Maggie’s parents had learned of it, they’d forbidden her to marry him. But he’d loved her and made that promise, and in spite of her parents’ wishes, she’d agreed to marry him. He couldn’t believe how lucky he was to have her, to have their family, to have this wonderful life. Thank God the kids were all fine. He knew with each birth the odds of that promise being broken grew, but they’d been fortunate and had escaped. Tyrell hadn’t been planned, and the pregnancy had been a hard one, but already the little boy had Ben wrapped around his tiny, perfect fingers. Taking him out of the bassinet, holding him and breathing in the warm scent of a newborn—that was all it had taken. This was the end, though. He couldn’t stand the possibility of another pregnancy. As soon as he could, he was making an appointment with a urologist and having a vasectomy. He wasn’t going to tell Maggie. Not that she would mind; they had the family they’d wanted, but there was no need to trouble her with the fine line they’d walked these past thirteen years. He walked down the hall to the nurses’ station. Matt was keeping an eye on Sarah and Beth, his sisters, as they hopped from one floor tile to another, playing their own version of hopscotch. The boy was too responsible. Ben knew that made Maggie proud, but it worried him. An eleven-year-old shouldn’t be that mature. He should laugh and hang out with his friends and have fun, not worry about what other people thought of his antics. Oh, well, there was still time for him to do all those things. Luke, his second born, was hanging over the counter. “Do you really keep dead bodies in a fridge in the basement?” he asked the ward clerk. Luke was going through a stage where anything related to death fascinated him. “Yep,” the clerk answered laconically. “But aren’t you afraid they might come out and try to get you?” “Nope.” “Why not?” “Because they’re dead.” “But suppose they really aren’t?” “They really are. We make them sign a paper before we take them down to the basement.” Luke’s eyes widened. “Whoa! That’s so wicked! But…” Ben hid a smile. “All right, Luke, that’s enough. It’s time to—” Screams cut off the rest of his words, and blood drained from his face as he realized they were coming from the direction of Maggie’s room. He ran down the corridor. Please don’t let it be Maggie! She was alone in that room, even though it was a semi-private. Ben burst in, and was horrified to see Maggie throwing their baby away from her. “Maggie, no!” He caught the baby just as he was about to drop to the floor. “Get that monster away from me!” His heart sank. Monster. Abomination. Thing. Those were the words that had been screamed over and over again. “Sweetheart—” “Don’t you call me that! You lied to me! You swore none of our children would have that curse!” “It’s not a curse, Magdalena.” The baby’s blanket was undone and his tiny undershirt had been removed. The birthmark on the side of his throat was clearly visible. “It is in my family, and you knew it! It’s got the birthmark! Did you think I wouldn’t recognize it? That you could get away with deceiving me like that? You promised me—” A nurse came running in, followed by an aide and a physician’s assistant. “My parents were right, you couldn’t be trusted! Get out of my sight and take your monster with you!” “Mrs. Small, what’s wrong?” “Don’t ever call me by that name again!” “Excuse me?” The P.A. exchanged glances with the nurse and hurried out of the room. “Maggie, calm down! The children…” “They’re my children. By the grace of God, they’ve been spared the horror of this…this…I want you to get away from me and never to see them again!” He didn’t remind her they were his children, too. She was too distraught. “What about the baby?” “I don’t care what you do with that thing. Throw it in a dumpster. Leave it in a landfill. Sell it to the Martians!” she spat. “Magdalena, he’s your baby!” Ben could see she wasn’t thinking rationally. He had known the almost rabid fear his wife’s family held of what his own bloodline contained, but for her to deny her own flesh and blood like this, for her to be willing to condemn their tiny son to death… “Oh, my God!” She tore at her hair. “I nursed it at my breast! It had its mouth on me!” She began scraping her breasts with her nails. Ben stood there feeling helpless. “Mr. Small, your wife is clearly upset. I’m going to give her a sedative. Diazepam.” The P.A. had returned with a vial and a syringe. “I’ve put in a call to Dr. Vargas as well. I think it might be best if you leave. She had a very long labor, and I…I’m sure she’ll be better by morning.” Ben nodded dumbly, and watched as the P.A. administered the sedative via Maggie’s IV line. Within seconds, her words became slurred, until finally they stopped altogether. “Mr. Small.” The nurse touched his shoulder. “Let me take the baby.” He handed Ty to her. She redressed the baby with smooth, competent movements, and then hurried away to the nursery. Ty hadn’t uttered a single cry, although his eyes had been opened wide and his little body trembled. It broke Ben’s heart. Shaking himself, he walked back to the nurses’ station. “Daddy?” Matt stared up at him, his eyes huge. On each side was a sister, clinging tight to him. Sarah was crying silently, while Bethany had her thumb stuck in her mouth, something she had outgrown when she was two. Luke launched himself at his father and held on. “Mom isn’t feeling well. Sometimes after a woman has a baby, she can react that way. She’ll be better tomorrow.” “You promise, Daddy?” “I…” The word caught in his throat, but he forced it out. “I promise.” Oh, Maggie, don’t make me have lied to our children! “Let’s go home, okay?” * * * * Matthew Matthew had crept down the hall and stood in the doorway of his mother’s hospital room, unnoticed by the adults. Why was Mom so upset? Was something wrong with their new baby brother? The nurse’s aide spotted him. “You’d better wait outside, son.” Matthew stared up at him and nodded jerkily. He had heard enough to know whatever had happened, Mom blamed Dad. What had Dad done? He joined Luke and their sisters by the nurses’ station. “What’s going on, Matt?” “I…I don’t know. I think…” He didn’t know what to think. Moms and dads were supposed to be in control; that was why they were the parents. “Beth had an accident,” Sarah whispered, and glanced toward the wet spot on the floor. A big man in jeans and a gray sweatshirt with the hospital name across the back was mopping it up. “I’m sorry!” Beth said in an agonized little voice. She looked like she was going to cry. “I got so scared.” “It’s all right, Bethie,” Matthew assured her. “Hospitals can be scary places. Oh, look! Here comes Dad!” Matthew understood why Bethany had wet herself. He was afraid he was going to have an accident himself. Dad was pale and his hands were visibly shaking; he looked like an old man. In spite of his position as the eldest, Matthew found himself reverting to the childhood name: “Daddy?” “Mom isn’t feeling well. She’ll be better tomorrow.” “You promise, Daddy?” “I…” For a second, Dad looked like he was ready to cry. He gathered Sarah and Bethany into his arms, reached for Luke and himself. “I promise.” * * * * Matthew lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling. Something was very wrong. Dad was lying. But what was the matter with Mom? It had sounded like she hated Dad, hated the baby. And if she did, might she start hating them? No, he couldn’t believe that. Mom loved them all, but he knew deep down she loved him best. He wouldn’t worry about it. He was the oldest; he had to be strong. But he was only a little kid, he thought resentfully. He shouldn’t have to be the strong one. That was Dad’s job. This was his fault, his and the baby’s. If the brat hadn’t come, everything would have stayed the same; everything would have been fine. Matthew slid out from under the covers and knelt beside the bed, his hands folded. “Dear God, please don’t let Mom hate us.” He thought for a moment. “And please make the baby go away.” He wasn’t completely satisfied with the prayer, but he didn’t know what else he could do. No, wait a second. There was something else. Mom had told him once, “If anything happens to me, you call your grandfather.” Dad’s father had always been “grandpa,” and Matthew had known she meant her own father. They’d never met him, but Mom had told them stories about when she was a little girl, and he sounded like a man who would know what to do. Mom had given him a piece of paper with a phone number on it and made him promise not to tell Dad. “This is only for emergencies.” A glance at the clock told him it was 3:05 A.M. Everyone should be asleep. He tiptoed to his door and cracked it open. Everything was dim and in shadow. The nightlight in the hall was the only source of light. All the bedroom doors were opened a little bit, even Dad’s. Matthew remembered from when Sarah and Bethany had been born that Dad did that in case any of them had nightmares while Mom was in the hospital. He slipped out of his room and down the stairs to the kitchen. Pepper, the shelter dog Dad had brought home one Saturday—and boy, had Mom been unhappy about that!—raised her head from the dog bed. “Shhh. Go back to sleep.” She gave a soft woof and lowered her head to her paws. * * * * He felt better once the phone call was made. Grandfather hadn’t minded that he’d called, even though it was a couple of hours earlier than here. “I’ve been expecting this,” he’d said in a deep, rumbly voice. “You did the right thing by calling me, Matthew. Now you go back to bed. Your uncles and I will be there in the morning, and we’ll take care of everything.” “Yes, sir. Thank you.” “Good night, Matthew.” “Good night, sir.” He didn’t call Grandpa or Dad “sir,” but somehow, with this man, that felt appropriate. He went back to bed, certain that between God and Grandfather, everything would be back to normal. * * * * Ben The next day, shortly after the kids had finished lunch and were putting on their fall jackets, getting ready to visit their Mom, Ben opened his front door to find his father-in-law standing there. “Mr. Crist.” He hadn’t seen this man since he and Maggie had returned from the justice of the peace who’d married them, and his fury had been overwhelming. If Ben’s father and brothers hadn’t been there, who knew what Crist would have done? “Uh…Maggie had our fifth child last night. I was just about to take the kids to the hospital to see her.” “I’ll take them. Magdalena doesn’t want to see you.” “What are you talking about?” “Did you think you could keep her sedated forever?” “What? Of course not!” “I’ve spoken to her. She told me all about last night.” “She was so upset. Last night—” “I knew you were no good,” Crist sneered. “You, your family, the entire—” “You’d better leave. I won’t have you talking like that in front of my children.” “You lost the right to call them yours when you gave my daughter that thing!” “Don’t you call the baby that! He’s an innocent child!” “He’s an abomination! He should be exterminated like so much vermin!” “You’re insane!” Dark gray eyes, so much like his wife’s, like his children’s, glittered. “Do you think so?” He gave a signal, and men Ben hadn’t even realized were there came forward. Ben swallowed. He’d last seen Maggie’s brothers thirteen years before, but time hadn’t changed them. They were still big, bulky, and numerous. “Daddy?” His baby girl clung to his pants leg, while the other kids hovered around. “I’m your grandfather, children.” Beth looked at him in confusion. “No, you’re not! We know Grandpa, and you’re not him.” “I’m your mother’s father.” He frowned at her, and she stuck her thumb in her mouth. “I’ll be taking you to see her.” “Mr. Crist, if you’re going to the hospital, you’re welcome to follow us.” Ben lied. He’d much prefer if the man would return to wherever it was he’d come from. “We were just about to go.” “You don’t get it, do you, Small? I’m taking the children, I’m taking my daughter, and we’re all leaving this town.” “What are you talking about? Maggie is my wife!” “Not for much longer. You were able to keep her away from her loving family for all these years, but she’s come to her senses and she’s leaving you.” “You can’t do that! Besides, Ty is too small to leave the hospital yet!” “Who?” “Your youngest grandson.” “These are the only children of my daughter Magdalena. That abomination is none of ours! Boys!” It should have been ridiculous hearing grown men referred to as “boys,” but Ben was too shocked by the enormity of what was happening to laugh. A few of his wife’s brothers surrounded the kids and started herding them toward the minivan parked at the curb. “No! You can’t do this! You can’t…” The kids looked back at him, scared and confused. “These are my kids!” “Dad’s got a paper that says otherwise. Magdalena signed it, giving him the right to take them.” “That’s not—she had no right!” Oh, Jesus, this couldn’t be happening. “Y’know something? I’m tired of hearing your yammering.” Maggie’s oldest brother grabbed his wrist and twisted it high behind his back. “Dad!” Luke was struggling, but he was no match for the man who caught him around the waist and threw him into the van. “Don’t you hurt my kids!” Ben tried to jerk free, tried to get to his children, but his arm was wrenched higher and there was a sickening pop. The brothers surrounded him and began pounding and kicking him. Wave after wave of burning pain inundated him, and he crumpled to the ground. * * * * Joe Joe Small was working on a jobsite when he received the call, and wasn’t that an experience he could live without repeating? “Your son Ben has been attacked, Mr. Small.” He’d never heard that voice before, but there were tales of it, like cool silk being drawn over your skin. He knew immediately who it was. “His right elbow is dislocated, and he’s been badly beaten. He’s being transported to St. Michael’s. Meanwhile, we’ll be looking into this, rest assured.” Within five minutes, the police called, telling him pretty much the same thing, but ending with, “I’m sorry, that’s all the information we have at this point.” He’d called his other sons. Dave lived locally and would be here soon, but Phil was an airline flight away, and it would take some time before he arrived. Joe drove like a lunatic to get to St. Michael’s—when Ben regained consciousness, he’d find his father watching over him—and fortunately the cops were busy elsewhere. He was also fortunate enough to find a parking space right off the emergency room. It was a tight fit for his SUV, but not as bad as it could have been. He’d have climbed out the window if he hadn’t been able to open the door. Joe jogged through the parking lot, dodging cars, and then had to wait until the doors to the emergency room slid open. A harried nurse pointed out the bay where his oldest son was being treated, and he rushed to it and moved aside the curtain. Oh Jesus! Ben looked like death warmed over. His arm was splinted and in a sling, his left eye and cheek were turning green and purple, and his nose had a bandage over the bridge. Had it been broken? A doctor stood at the side of the bed, making notes in Ben’s chart and talking to the nurse, who was adjusting the IV line. “I’m Joe Small. This is my son.” He pulled out his wallet to show his identification. “What can you tell me about his condition?” “Right now we’ve given him something to make him comfortable.” The doctor observed him seriously. “I won’t try to sugarcoat this. Your son has taken quite a beating. His kidneys have been pummeled—” Joe put a hand to his face. That probably meant Ben would be pissing blood for a week. “—and his testes…” The doctor shook his head. “I’m sorry. It’s unlikely he’ll be able to father any children. On the plus side—” “There’s a plus in the middle of all this s**t?” “Yes. An x-ray reveals no bones are broken and the arteriogram of his arm shows no arterial infringement. There doesn’t seem to be any damage to the nerves, and he should be out of the splint in two to three weeks.” “Will he have to stay in the hospital for that length of time?” “No. You know how it is with insurance companies. In the meanwhile, he’ll stay here in the ER until a room becomes available. If you need anything, the nurses will get it for you.” “Thank you.” “Dr. Holly to bay 8.” “Sorry, that’s me. I have to go. Mrs. Cross, would you get a chair for Mr. Small?” The doctor gave him a preoccupied nod and hurried away. The nurse brought a chair for him and he sank into it. She rested her hand on his shoulder. “He’ll be all right. We’ve had men here in the ER who’ve been beaten worse, and they walked out.” “All of them?” She shrugged, and he was grateful she hadn’t lied to him. “As Dr. Holly said, let me know if there’s anything you need.” “Can I…can I hold his hand?” “Of course. Talk to him also. It will give him some comfort, even if he doesn’t seem to be aware.” Joe took his son’s hand. He wasn’t a praying man, but he didn’t think it could hurt. * * * * “Dad. How’s Ben?” “Dave!” His middle son had arrived. Joe surged up and hugged him. “He’s pretty beat up.” “That’s putting it mildly.” Dave stared at his brother in horror, then touched Joe’s arm and lowered his voice, although no one was close enough to hear what he had to say. “I’ve been up to see Maggie.” “That’s right. She’s in this hospital.” “Was in this hospital. She checked out earlier, AMA, according to a pretty ticked off P.A.” “What?” “Against medical advice.” “Why?” Dave shrugged. “A big, white-haired man left with her.” “Crist?” “It sounds like it.” Joe bit back a curse. He’d never liked the man, hadn’t liked any of that family, and he’d regretted Ben had fallen in love with Magdalena Crist. He’d hoped her family’s beliefs would prevent her from running away with Ben, but she’d been too enraptured by him. When they returned from the justice of the peace after a whirlwind courtship, Noah Crist had been rabid with fury, and Joe knew he wasn’t being over-the-top with that description. Crist had been literally frothing at the mouth and threatened all kinds of dire punishments. Joe had had no choice but to get the two young people out of town. Their kind tended to stay in one place, but he wasn’t taking any chances with his other two boys, especially given what Phil was. Joe told Dave and Phil to pack what they’d need. Because the garage was attached, no one saw them pile boxes and suitcases into Joe’s SUV, and as soon as night fell, he’d gotten them out of the house they’d grown up in. Eventually they’d settled in a town across the state from Ben and Magdalena. Joe would have preferred to be closer, but if Crist was determined enough to track him down, he wanted as much distance between his oldest son and his wife as he could provide. “Dad!” Joe looked over his shoulder to see his youngest son barrel into the room. “Phil!” “I got here as soon as I could.” Joe didn’t ask how Phil had managed to arrive so quickly. The voice that had informed him of this disaster had no doubt insured Phil got transportation. “Thank you.” He had never been reluctant to show affection to his sons, and he would have hugged Phil now, but he didn’t. He hadn’t touched him since Phil had turned thirteen and developed an aversion to being touched. “I’m so glad to see you.” “Dave!” “Hello, little brother.” He made no attempt to touch Phil either. “How’s Ben?” Joe nodded toward the bed, and the three of them approached it. “He’s pretty battered,” he said again. “I was up to see the baby. They’d only let me look at him through the glass. I tried to tell them I was his uncle, but something had happened…” “Crist was here,” Dave told him, and Joe frowned at the tightness that suddenly appeared around Phil’s mouth. “How did he find out where they were?” Joe demanded, although he knew neither of his sons would have an answer. “Maggie called him.” The voice was low and hoarse. “Ben!” He returned to the bed. He’d worry about his daughter-in-law later. His son was all who mattered right now. “Do you want some water?” “The kids, Dad. Where are my kids?” “We haven’t seen them.” Joe exchanged startled looks with his other sons. “We thought they were with a neighbor.” “No.” Ben was only thirty-three, but just then he looked about forty years older, and Joe wanted to find Noah Crist and cut out his heart, if the bastard even had one. “Maggie’s father and brothers took them. She signed a paper saying they could.” He tried to sit up, but fell back with a groan. “So they’re the ones who did this to you.” “Yes. Dad, I can’t let my kids be raised with that kind of hate and fear!” “Stay put. We’ll look into it.” * * * * Ben Ben had been admitted to a four-bed ward that was on the Medical/Surgical floor. He was trying to ignore the fire that was burning his balls while he fed himself left-handed, and he wasn’t being too successful with either one. “Here, Ben. Let me help you.” “Dad!” His heart began pounding. “Did you find them?” “No. You’d think eight men, a woman, and four kids would draw some kind of attention, but they’re gone. I’ve got some…connections who are looking into this.” “Did they learn anything?” Ben knew better than to question what those connections might be. “No. The house in Delaware County is empty, and none of the neighbors seem to know anything.” “Could they be lying?” “To the cops, maybe,” Phil, the baby of the family, chimed in. “But not to—” Their father cut him a glance, and Phil shut up. Ben shuddered, and then regretted the act. He ached all over. He needed pain meds, but more than that, he needed to be able to think clearly. “Is Tyrell all right?” “We stopped at the nursery to see him. He looks fine. I just don’t understand why they didn’t take him as well.” “I know why,” Phil stated flatly. He would, if any of them did. Ben started to raise his hand to rub his face, but then winced as pain sliced through him. He lowered his arm cautiously. “Yeah. Dad, don’t blame Maggie. I made a promise to her, and I broke it. You should have heard the words she was screaming when she realized…” On second thought, it was better if his father and brothers never discovered the knee-jerk reaction she’d had to this baby. He shook his head, and regretted that movement, too. Even his eyelashes hurt. “I knew we were pressing our luck when we had Beth, and even though everything worked out okay, I was going to make sure she was our last.” Ty came as a total surprise, when the condom failed. Abortion hadn’t been considered—Maggie was overjoyed, and Ben…he kept his concerns to himself, but he wanted this baby also. It wasn’t a matter of being pro-life or even having a strong religious conviction. It was something that was hardwired into their genes, both his and Maggie’s, although what Maggie’s ancestors had done down through the years… Of course he’d known about the Crists. His father was a conscientious man, and he’d made sure Ben was aware of what Maggie’s people were like. They never married out of the family, cousins marrying cousins, and how they hadn’t wound up with numerous hereditary problems was a mystery. In addition, they were prolific. Her brothers had anywhere from seven to ten children, and the number would have been greater if— But Ben had taken one look at Maggie and fallen head over heels. All the stuff that was in love songs…sweet kisses and gazing at each other with stars in their eyes, standing on the street where his beloved lived and looking up at her window…well, he would have if the Crists hadn’t lived on a farm, but it was the thought that counted. They were just like Romeo and Juliet, and he’d known their love was everlasting, could overcome anything, that she wasn’t like the others in her family… He’d been wrong, and now his children—but most of all this little boy—were going to pay for it. “To tell the truth, turning thirty hit Maggie hard, and she was so depressed I was trying to talk her into seeing a psychologist. When she realized she was pregnant again, she was thrilled.” Although he knew if his wife had been aware of the very special child she carried, she would have aborted the fetus without thinking twice about it, and there would have been nothing anyone could have done to stop her, short of keeping her in a locked room for the duration of the pregnancy. And even then, he wasn’t certain the infant would have survived. “Ben, I hate to bring this up, but how safe is Ty going to be?” His father looked worn, and Ben hated like hell it was because of him. “What do you mean?” “I mean a big, white-haired man tried to get into the nursery.” Ben felt the color drain from his cheeks. His son was so tiny. It would have only been a moment’s work to snap his neck. “Ty’s fine right now.” His father rested a comforting hand on his shoulder. “The nurse thought something was fishy and sent for the doctor. Crist said something about not having time to waste and coming back later, and left. Shortly after, so did Magdalena.” “I have to get up to the nursery!” “You just concentrate on getting well. Dave and I will take turns watching over Ty. Phil?” Ben’s youngest brother stared at the Patient Bill of Rights on a bulletin board fastened to the wall, his gaze unfocused. After a minute or so, he gave a crooked smile. “I can stay.” “Thanks, all of you. Dad.” He lowered his voice. “I can’t stay here. They know where I live.” “I know, Ben. Too often that family has been underestimated. We won’t make that mistake. Is there anything in your house that you can’t live without?” Ben thought carefully. “Our marriage license, the kids’ birth certificates. Pictures and videotapes of the family. Pepper—” The look on his father’s face scared him. “What did they do to her?” His father rested his hand on Ben’s shoulder. “Is there anything else?” “No.” Imagining what the Crists must have done to his dog, Ben bit down on his back teeth, afraid he might throw up. He shook his head. “Nothing.” “All right. One of us will get them for you. Dave, you’re about Ben’s size. Your job will be to buy some clothes for him. Nothing to rouse suspicion, just jeans and some shirts, socks, and underwear.” Ben didn’t bother asking if his dad really thought Maggie’s father would do something. His son’s life was at stake. “Dad, the other kids?” “They may not have the birthmark, but they carry the gene. They’ll be watched.” “But if we can’t find them—” “There are others who will.” And Ben knew he’d have to be satisfied with that. * * * * Joe Joe looked down at the baby boy he held. Tyrell was starting to fuss. Had he picked up on his grandpa’s tension? “Don’t you worry, little one. We’ll all keep you safe.” Joe began to croon a lullaby. It had been a long time since he’d tried to soothe a baby, but it wasn’t something he was likely to forget. A shadow fell across him. He raised his gaze, up and up, and swallowed as he met the flat black eyes of the vampyre king. Even knowing he had nothing to worry about—after all, vampyres hadn’t fed on the unwilling for the past two or three hundred years—he was intimidated. The only one of their kind Joe had ever seen was the woman who’d come to claim his youngest boy when Phillip had turned eighteen. He started to get to his feet, awkward with the baby in his arms. “No, you need not rise. You know who I am?” He bowed his head. “Sir.” This being was the Rege, and Joe knew the courtesy due him. The Rege reached out his arms. “This is the child.” It wasn’t a question. “Yes. Tyrell.” Joe handed the baby over to him without hesitation, knowing the infant was in safe hands. “My other grandchildren?” “They will be watched over from a distance. Since they don’t bear the mark, they will be safe enough.” “Thank you.” “Your daughter-in-law is instituting annulment proceedings.” “She? Not her father? Goddammit. I knew Magdalena Crist would be trouble. If only Ben hadn’t fallen in love with her.” “Crying over ‘if onlys’ is futile.” “I know,” Joe said in a choked voice. He looked away, an ache building in his throat. “This is going to destroy him, to lose his wife and his children.” “He has this little one. He’ll need to be strong for him. I’ve found a new home and job for him in Clewiston. He and Tyrell will be safe there. As soon as your son is well enough, we’ll see they get there.” “We’ll never see them again, will we?” Joe hated the fact that his voice quavered, but it seemed he was losing not only his oldest son, but all his grandchildren. “Phillip will be permitted to get word of them to you, but it will be safer for the boy. If he’s found…” “He’s such a little boy.” Smaller than Joe’s sons had been, smaller than his brothers and sisters. “Would they really harm him?” He had to ask, even though he was certain of the response. “He’s a sabor. They would.” The Rege seemed to hesitate for a moment, and then continued in a soft voice, “Over the centuries, they’ve had no qualms in leaving the infant sabors born to them exposed to the night. Some we could save. Others were not so fortunate. The Crists have cost us in their relentless destruction of a valuable resource.” “How many?” Joe asked numbly. The very idea that any child, but especially a child who was a sabor, could be so callously murdered was wrong on so many levels, they couldn’t be counted. “Even one was one too many.” The Rege’s eyes glittered, red now, and Joe swallowed, truly frightened for the first time. “Noah Crist was determined to wipe the strain from their bloodline. Now that he knows they were unsuccessful, he and his brood will do whatever is necessary to find and eliminate this child.” “Oh, God!” Joe shivered, feeling cold from the inside out. The Rege, his eyes black once more, observed him with compassion. “Have no fear for Tyrell.” “How can you say that? I’m losing my son, my grandson, all my grandchildren!” “I understand your concerns.” “That’s no help! Why didn’t you wipe out that godforsaken family before this happened?” It was a cold question, but Joe knew how valued the sabors were. “Because of who they are, it’s impossible to destroy them. In spite of themselves, they continue to produce a resource we can’t do without. No matter what Noah Crist might try to do to eradicate it, his sons and daughters will pass the gene to their own children, and their children’s children.” Joe ran a palm through his hair. He could feel it starting to thin. Was he losing his mind as well as his hair? He sighed. “Ben told me Tyrell was born with a caul. It’s supposed to be lucky, but…” He sighed again. “We were not aware of this.” “I thought there wasn’t anything you vampyres didn’t know.” The Rege didn’t respond to that. “In all our shared history, there has never been a sabor born behind the veil.” “Lucky kid.” Joe felt tired. “Does it matter?” “We don’t know.” Tyrell began to fuss, and the Rege walked back and forth across the floor, crooning softly to him. Joe couldn’t understand the words, but they seemed to comfort his grandson. “Adam.” Who was the Rege summoning? He jumped as another vampyre emerged from out of shadows that shouldn’t have been in such a brightly lit room. Blond where the Rege was brunet, this vampyre’s eyes were a reddish-brown. He could have been in his mid-twenties, but he could just as easily have been ten times that age. “Adam is my…equerry. I have designated the task of looking after Tyrell to him.” “Your Grace! Are you sure you want me and not Ştefan?” “I’m sure.” Joe watched in reluctant fascination as the Rege handed his grandson to the younger vampyre. Tyrell’s little fist flailed against Adam’s chest. It seemed to Joe that he patted that spot, and then he clutched at something Adam wore beneath his shirt. The vampyre drew in a stunned breath, but the Rege nodded in satisfaction. “What is it?” Joe demanded, alarmed, uncertain of what was happening. The red in the younger vampyre’s eyes became more subdued, and his grin was crooked. “It would seem the Rege is not the only one who has chosen me as this child’s protector.” “But this wasn’t done for Phillip. Or my sister, Bernadette.” Joe frowned. Earlier than that, he just didn’t know—his parents and grandparents never mentioned a child needing to be protected. Vampyres would never harm them, and normals were unaware of what they were. “There was no threat to those in your line. Oh, we watched over them from a distance as we did all young sabors, but it wasn’t necessary to assign them a guardian.” The Rege scowled, and Joe was afraid he was going to piss his pants. “Except for the Crists.” How was Joe going to explain all this to Ben? “It grows late, and I must go,” Adam said. This room had no windows; how did he know that? The younger vampyre returned the baby to him and bowed slightly. “I promise you that no harm will come to this little one.” He rested a hand on Tyrell’s head, and then, between one blink of the eye and the next, he was gone. “Your grandson is valued greatly by us, Joseph Small.” The Rege recalled his attention. “Thank you for him. And please let his father know this gift will not go unrewarded. Tokens such as this will mark each year on the day of his birth.” He held up a gold bar, about six inches long and an inch thick, and Joe sucked in a breath. He’d been given similar tokens to hold in trust for Phillip until he reached the age of twenty-five, but they were nowhere the size of this. “All we want is his safety.” “And I promise you he will be safe.” The Rege tucked the bar into Joe’s jacket pocket, then touched his shoulder. Joe shivered. Even through his clothes, that touch was cold. Abruptly, he and Tyrell were alone in the room. Joe stared down at the infant with a combination of wonder and worry. A nurse walked in. “Has he been fussing, Mr. Small?” “Oh…” “It’s his dinnertime. Sit down. It’s so nice to see male members of the family get involved. Do you need any help?” “No. I’ve done this before.” Although truthfully, not in twenty-six years, since Phillip had been an infant. Joe sat and took the bottle the nurse offered him. She left the room, and he brushed the n****e across the baby’s lips. Tyrell latched on and began sucking vigorously. Have no worry. Joe heard the words as clearly as if the Rege were still in the room with him. This child is precious to us. We will see he comes to no harm. * * * * Phil Phil was getting restless. Every eight weeks or so, a vampyre would come to feed from him, and it was approaching that time. He had to get home for her. Vidalia was the most beautiful of all the vampyres who’d come to him, and he loved her. Of course he loved whichever vampyre came to him but only for the time they were with him. Once they were gone, the emotion was gone. That was the way sabors were. But with Vidalia…it was unheard of, but even after she left, he still loved her. And she loved him, too, he was certain of that. In the past couple of years, she’d come to him more than any other vampyre had ever done, even if she didn’t need to feed. They’d spend evenings together, listening to music or simply talking. She’d been his first vampyre, and she’d treated him so kindly, taking the time to soothe his nerves. For a moment he lost himself in the wonder of her, her waist-length hair the color of corn silk, her eyes that put the blue of the spring sky to shame. Such a cliché, but so true. And when she did have to feed, there was the intense thrill he got as she ran her tongue along his neck over the birthmark that marked him as a sabor and then slid her fangs into him. He shivered at the almost orgasmic memory. What would it be like if she did that while he was making love to her? More and more during the times they were apart, he found himself wrapped up in that fantasy. Phil sighed. He had to snap out of it. He couldn’t have what he wanted, and he’d better stop mooning over it. Besides, he had to be here for Ben; that was what family was all about. * * * * They were in Ben’s room. A nurse had brought Ty to them, wrapped in the softest blue blanket, and now they were just waiting for the doctor to discharge them. Phil held the baby while Dave helped Ben get dressed. He smiled down at his nephew. Ty was the closest thing he would have to a child of his own. Maybe that was why he had no problem touching the baby. They hadn’t been sure Ty had gained enough weight to be discharged when Ben was, but the baby was healthy in all other aspects, and so his pediatrician had given them the okay to take him home. The doctor didn’t know—no one knew—that Ben wasn’t going home to the house that had been trashed. Their dad had gone through the motions, as if they were going to have it repaired, but that was just to throw off Ben’s in-laws. Ben and Ty were leaving town. “How are you going to manage?” Their father had a reason to be concerned; Ben’s arm was still in a sling. “I’ll find a way.” “I can stay with you, if you want,” Phil volunteered. “Thanks, Philly, but I know you need to get back to your own place.” “Not right away.” Ben reached out to squeeze his arm, but then drew his hand back, and Phil was grateful. Once sabors reached a certain age, they couldn’t bear to be touched by anyone who wasn’t a vampyre: not by family, not by friends, and of course never by lovers, because they had to remain virgin. “Thanks,” Ben repeated, “but I can’t let you do that when it’s so close to the time for a visit.” “I’ll go with you, Ben.” “I appreciate the offer, Dave, but people would start wondering if you didn’t go home.” “Dad could tell them I found a hottie on vacation and I’m exploring the possibility of a relationship.” “And when you go home without said hottie?” Dave grinned and shrugged. “She dumped me?” “What woman in her right mind would dump you?” “It’s happened.” Dave hunched a shoulder. “Listen, I’ll go down and bring the SUV around to the front entrance. Don’t dawdle, Benjamin.” Ben tried to flip him off, but the action with his left hand wasn’t as smooth as it would have been with his right, and Phil wasn’t the only one who had to stifle a laugh. “I’m really worried. How can we be sure word won’t get back to the Crists? Noah Crist managed to find us before.” “Only because Magdalena contacted him.” Phil hated reminding him his wife had so easily turned her back on him. Even more, he hated the defeated slump of his brother’s shoulders. He wanted to offer him the comfort of human contact but was unable to. The entire family knew that as Ty grew older, it would be the same for him. Their father had no problem with physical contact, however, and he did hug Ben. “Will the vampyres really be able to protect Ty?” “Yes.” Their dad handed Ben a gold bar. “Heavy,” Ben murmured as he hefted it. “Yes. This token is their pledge to you and the baby. The Rege said they would send one every year on his birthday. And you know I told you the one called Adam will be guarding Tyrell.” Phil recognized the bar. He had a lockbox filled with them in a secure location in his little house. He’d been given his just the year before, and it would be the same with the little nephew he held—when Ty turned twenty-five, he would inherit a fortune. Not that he would need it. Vampyres took very good care of their sabors. “They’ve found you a home and a job in Clewiston.” “We’re going to Florida?” “There is more than one Clewiston, Benjie,” Phil teased. “This one’s in—” “Not here, Phillip.” He turned pale as the thought of how his careless words could have jeopardized his nephew. “Sorry, Dad.” “The Crists won’t have a clue where you are. Tyrell will have a good life.” “Maggie…She’s really going to annul our marriage?” Ben put the bar in the duffel bag Dave had brought, along with the clothes. “Yes. I won’t offer you any false hope. I’m sorry, son.” “No more sorry than I am. Why couldn’t she divorce me if she felt she had to get rid of me? Doesn’t she realize that will make our children bastards?” Dad had no answer for that, and Phil was glad he’d fallen in love with a vampyre, even if nothing could come of it. It broke his heart to see his brother like this. A nurse brought in a wheelchair. “Ready to leave us, Mr. Small?” “Yes.” He settled himself into the chair. “We have a little something the nurses in the department put together for you.” She put the bag in his lap. “Thank you. That’s so kind of you.” She blushed and poked into it. “It’s not a lot, just some diapers and baby wipes, a few cans of formula, and a couple of Onesies.” “Still, that’s very kind. My son and I appreciate it.” “We were all just so sorry his mother…I mean…” She blushed deeper. “Ty is a little sweetie.” Phil wasn’t surprised the entire floor was aware of what Magdalena had done. Word of her spectacular breakdown had spread like the proverbial wildfire. He looked down at his nephew, who gazed at him with wide, unblinking eyes. All newborns were supposed to have blue eyes, but he had a feeling Ty’s would remain the same dark blue as Ben’s. He rested his hand on the baby’s head for a moment. He also had a feeling Ty would be truly remarkable when he grew up. “Thank you,” his brother said again. The nurse gave a weak smile and scurried out of the room. She obviously meant well, but Phil could tell his oldest brother was going to fall apart in a second. So could their dad. He took the bag from Ben’s lap. “Phil, let Ben have Tyrell.” Ben reached out his good arm, and Phil gave him his son. “It’ll be okay, Ben.” Phil swung the strap of the duffel over his shoulder. “Sure.” Ben tightened his hold on Ty. The baby didn’t even whimper. Maybe he’d grow up being able to tolerate being touched. Although it wasn’t likely, for Ty’s own sake, Phil hoped so. “All right,” Ben said. “Let’s go.” With Phil at his brother’s side and their father pushing the wheelchair, they left the room and headed for the world outside. * * * * Ben They’d been in Clewiston for almost five months, and Ben found it a nice town. His neighbors were good people who welcomed him with open arms, especially Mrs. Wilson, the woman who lived next door. She thought a “widower” raising an infant son on his own would be perfect for her niece, who was single and almost thirty. Ben didn’t know who was more relieved—Honey or himself—when he finally managed to convince Mrs. Wilson it was too soon for him. The house was nice, too, a two-story brick Tudor with the bedrooms on the second floor. The room he chose for the nursery was at the back of the house, away from street noises. Ben stood beside the crib, watching as his son slept. Lashes like sooty spikes fanned over the baby’s smooth, pink cheeks, and tiny, perfect lips pursed from time to time as if in kisses. “Oh, little one, what do I tell you when you ask about your mother and your brothers and sisters?” For the first time he regretted the day he’d ever met Magdalena Crist. Having a child like Ty should have been a joy, a wonder, and she’d made it a source of sorrow and heartache. How could Ben tell his youngest son of his mother’s reaction to what he was? How was he going to tell Ty what he was? No. He shook his head. Ty wasn’t even six months old. There would be plenty of time for Ben to figure out the best way to broach this subject. He dropped a tender kiss on the wispy black curls that covered his son’s head, then strode to his bedroom and picked up the small cedar box from the dresser. Maggie had planned to give it to Sarah when she turned thirteen, but it had been left behind. He’d put his marriage certificate into the box, as well as Ty’s original birth certificate, the other kids’ birth certificates, and the handful of photos and the sole videotape that Dave had managed to rescue. He needed a good place to conceal this, a safe place. Against one wall was the door to the master closet. He walked in and looked around. A cord dangled from the hatch in the ceiling. He tugged on it, and the hatch opened, enabling him to unfold the ladder that gave access to the attic. The attic was empty right now, but in the coming years Ben knew he’d store Christmas decorations there, as well as the clothes, toys, and books Ty would outgrow. He found a shadowy corner and placed the box there. Without looking back, he returned to the ladder, climbed down, and folded it in on itself. With that done, he put it back in place and closed the hatch. He’d look in on his son a final time before he got ready for bed.