Imagine an earth just a bit different from ours. In this world normals unknowingly share the planet with all manner of beings, including vampyres, most of whom rely on bagged blood, which is supplemented by the blood of sabors, valued individuals whose blood contains an element necessary for the survival of the species. Tyrell Small has always felt different. He just never knew how different. On his sixteenth birthday, his father reveals Ty is one such sabor, with the birthmark to prove it. Upon learning he’ll be required to feed vampyres, Ty decides he’s not having any of that. He’ll run away and make his own destiny. Slipping out his second story bedroom window, he finds Adam Dasani, the most gorgeous man he’s ever seen, waiting for him on the roof. Adam is reluctant to distress the young sabor about to slide down the drainpipe, but he’s one of the vampyres Ty will one day feed. Equerry to the vampyre king, Adam had been given the task of guarding Ty on the day he was born. Because the blood of the two most powerful saborese families in the shared history of vampyres and sabors runs through Ty’s veins, some vampyres will do anything to obtain him for themselves. It will be up to Adam to keep Ty safe, not only from those rogue vampyres but from others who have plans of their own for him. Everyone keeps telling Ty he can’t escape his destiny, but he has no intention of sitting around twiddling his thumbs, waiting for life to catch up with him. However, will something Adam inadvertently said give Ty a way to live the life he wants and keep those he loves -- including Adam -- out of danger?

They Come by Night

Hmm. He tugged on his lower lip, and once again a brilliant notion struck him. What would a young man want, but a young woman from this century? Well, the last century, but that was close enough.


I’d overslept thanks to torrid dreams of Adam, who I hadn’t seen since just after Christmas. As a result, I’d had to skip breakfast, barely having time to feed and walk Mina; the jacket I’d grabbed on the run wasn’t warm enough—the calendar might say April, but it felt like January—and I’d forgotten my lunch.


On top of that, my digital recorder needed to be recharged, and my notes looked like chicken scratches. I squinted down at them, hoping I’d be able to decipher them once I returned home.


And now Dr. von Bulwer was turning his beady black eyes on me and frowning. “What is your problem, Mr. Small?”


I only just stopped myself from looking around for my dad. “I’m sorry, Doctor?”


Chapter 73