Notturno (21 page)

watch read 11:15, and he knew, just as he had known at nine,

that Donte would never come. He rolled over, sorry now that

he hadn’t taken Elian up on his sweet offer. Physical comfort

would probably be a welcome distraction. He went to the

barred window and looked out on the landscaped yard.

Exquisitely pruned hedges and walkways lit with mushroom-

shaped lights close to the ground led to two large spotlighted

trees. The parklike setting had furniture scattered about,

benches for sitting and reading and enjoying the garden’s

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145

beauty, which were probably lost on the undead, who couldn’t

enjoy them in the light of day.

Adin heard a sound outside the door, and the lock turned.

Elian stepped hesitantly inside. “Soon they’re going to want you

to come downstairs,” he said. “They sent me to tell you, if you

were sleeping.”

Adin smiled. “Not much chance of that, though, was there?”

“Probably not,” Elian agreed. “I—”

“Look—” They spoke at the same time.

“You first,” said Adin.

Elian looked at the floor. “I wanted to help you, but it’s

impossible.”

“I understand,” murmured Adin.

“No, you don’t!” Elian hissed. He moved forward, speaking

in hushed tones. “I wouldn’t even care if they knew it was me, if

they staked me for it. I just… It’s impossible. I hope Donte

comes for you, because I can’t help you.”

“Thank you.” Adin took Elian’s hand. “Would you sit with

me? I’d like your company.”

“You would?” The boy was sweetly hesitant but pleased.

“Sure. No one wants to be alone when they’re scared.” They

sat on the bed side by side like nervous middle schoolers.

“Unless your only choice is a bloodsucking predator.” Elian

hid a smile. Adin leaned on Elian’s large, young body and put

his head on the boy’s broad shoulder.

“My options lately have been severely limited.”

“You trust too easily,” said Elian, putting an arm around

Adin to pull him into a tight hug. “I won’t hurt you, but you

should know that you’re easy.”

“It’s been said.”

“You have a less-than-zero chance of getting out of this

alive,” said Elian pragmatically. “Want me to suck you off?”

146 Z.A. Maxfield

“Nah.” Adin was a little surprised, but he couldn’t take the

very young-looking Elian up on his offer. He put his arms

around Elian’s waist. “This is fine. It’s nice, just like this.”

At midnight, Gio came to the door. He looked at Elian, who

sat holding Adin, with some distaste, but simply motioned them

to follow him. When they were down the stairs and on the

landing, Adin’s heart began to pound, and he felt sick to his

stomach. His hands shook a little, and he caught one of Elian’s,

but the boy just stared mutely ahead, saying nothing. Adin let

go. He couldn’t blame him. Elian was looking forward to

immortality with these men, and Adin likely only had to endure

a few more minutes.

“He didn’t come,” Adin said grimly when he at last faced

Santos. It wasn’t a question.

“No, he did not.” Santos was toying with a letter opener and

looking at him.

“He only loved when he was human, Santos. The only

person he ever cared about was your father. I never expected he

would come.”
Was that true?

Santos nodded to Gio, and Adin sucked in a sharp breath.

He heard fragments of sound. Mocking laughter and jeering,

like people at a cockfight. Hissing. Voices speaking so low that

he couldn’t understand them, but that rumbled into his mind

like waves breaking on sand. He looked around the room, and

in the men’s smug faces, he recognized the arctic light of

cruelty. It reminded him of the start of a gay bashing where

everyone makes eye contact and the mob mentality takes over.

He prepared to defend himself as best he could, but even now

hopelessness echoed in the empty spaces of his heart.

The telephone rang, and Santos picked up the receiver as

Gio came around the desk to collect him. When Gio grabbed

his arm, Santos held a hand up, and silence fell on the room.

Santos turned the phone on speaker.

“Did you hear me, Santos? I asked if you had killed my toy

yet.”

148 Z.A. Maxfield

“No.” Santos clenched his teeth. “He’s still here.”

“May I speak to him?” Donte inquired, his voice polite. He

gave nothing away, Adin thought, because he had nothing to

give.

“That would be up to him. He can hear you.” Adin closed

his eyes.

“Caro, are you disappointed?” Donte asked.

“To be disappointed one has to have expectations, so I

would have to say, no, I’m not disappointed.” He opened his

eyes and focused on the phone, staring at it and ignoring the

men in the room.

“Your heart reproaches me, if your words do not.”

Adin clenched his fists. “
Say it isn’t so, Joe
.”

Donte was silent for what seemed like an eternity. “Another

lesson from baseball. Innocence is always defiled in some way,

Adin. Some would say that’s its purpose. I’m sorry, più amato.”

“You don’t get to call me that.” Adin hardened his heart

against the bitter pain of those words, not so very long ago

spoken in passion. “Not even if only the living qualify. You do

not get
to call me that!”

“Fair enough,” Donte admitted. All Adin heard was his own

breathing, but there was a palpable escalation of the tension in

the room. A thrumming excitement he could feel through his

skin.

“Do you remember when I asked you about ghosts, Donte?

When I asked if they walked among us?” Adin was afraid his

voice would crack, that it would shatter into a million pieces as

his heart had elected to do.

“Yes, caro, I remember.”

Adin no longer cared if anyone thought him weak or lacking

in pride. “I would have liked to walk some more with you.”

There was a faint
click
on the line, and it made a metallic static sound like the inside of a shell before Santos hit the Disconnect

button. All eyes were on Adin, and they were hungry. Adin shot

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149

one last look at Elian, who acknowledged him briefly and

turned away.

Just as suddenly they were on him, pulling him harshly and

tearing at his clothing. Adin saw that Elian and Santos stayed

well back as the three other vampire henchmen began to drag

him from the room. He writhed, twisting and bucking as they

caught each of his limbs in turn, and still he fought, practically

convulsing in their hands, straining against the inevitable

outcome of a single mortal’s struggle with three hungry

vampires. He saw Elian then, out of the corner of his eye,

racing forward, whether to help him or subdue him he didn’t

know. Someone used a brutal elbow to knock all the air out of

his lungs.

Adin wasn’t even in control any longer; he thrashed and spit

and hissed on wild instinct alone. Gio wrenched his arm hard,

and from the blinding explosion of pain, he knew his shoulder

had dislocated. They were almost to the doorway of the office,

and that became his new goal. He would not go through that

door—no matter what—alive. His eyes closed and his body

kept fighting.

The sound of glass breaking preceded a blinding light that

tore through the room like a firebomb. Even though Adin had

his eyes closed, when he opened them again all he saw were

huge purple clouds. He squinted and tried to peer through

them, but it was no use. The hands holding him let go,

dropping him onto the hardwood floor beneath him. All around

him he heard running feet, the sounds of fighting, with a

harshly barked word or command from Santos breaking the

silence at odd intervals. Someone kicked him hard in the head

as they ran past, and he flung up his uninjured arm to protect

himself as the fight raged on above him. Something fell with a

wet
thud
about three feet away, and he looked to find Gio’s sightless eyes staring back from his severed head. Adin couldn’t

look away, and in only a matter of moments, it dissolved into

gritty nothingness. Adin’s eyes rolled back in his head.

Mist coated Adin like a white sauce; the damp and chilly air

reminded him of walking across the Golden Gate Bridge in the

morning before the fog burned off. It was eerily quiet, though,

150 Z.A. Maxfield

unlike the city, where he would ordinarily have heard at least a

few seabirds and the drone of the foghorn at intervals. The

silence in his head was crushing and unnatural until a sound

broke it.

“Più amato.”
Adin heard Donte’s thick, mellifluous voice.

“Donte?” he answered. “Are you here? Did you come after

all?”

“No,”
said Donte patiently.
“I didn’t come.”

“Oh. Aren’t you a shit, then?” Adin tried to ascertain how

he was feeling, but everything was fuzzy. “Thanks.”

“You assume I care nothing for you if I did not ride to the rescue like a
cowboy in an American movie?”

“They were going to kill me.”

“I know. Death is only a door, Adin. One of many, many…”

“
My
death is
my
door. Piss off,” snapped Adin. “And get the fuck out of my head.”

Donte made an irritated sound.
“Adin, I cannot engage my

lover’s child. Surely you see that? Surely you see that I must do everything
in my power to avoid conflict with him?”

“You should have thought about that before you made him

what he is.”

Donte growled.
“I made him what he is because I could not bear to
see him die. That was a foolish and sentimental mistake, and I have
regretted it for almost five centuries. You will not see me make it again.

Not even…”

“What?” Adin asked, his breath catching in his throat.

“Donte, what?
Not even what?
”

“Adin?” a new voice pushed Donte’s away. “Adin, can you

hear me?”

Adin opened his eyes. Warm, inky black eyes looked at him

from above. “Tuan?” Nothing made sense to Adin, and he

assumed he was dead or dreaming. “What the
hell
?”

Tuan grinned. He took Adin’s hand in his and gave it a

squeeze. “You’re going to be all right. EMS is on its way.”

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151

“What are
you
doing here?” Adin asked.

“I’m doing my job. Undead management. They only get to

stay if they play nice.” He stood, and Adin had trouble taking it

in. He was all in black, wearing fatigue-style pants and a long-

sleeved shirt with a utility vest over it. He wore a watch cap that hid his glossy hair, and was at that moment placing a razor-sharp sword into the scabbard that hung at his hip.

Adin got to his knees, his arm hanging limply by his side,

and Tuan assisted him gently to his feet. “Santos?” Why the hell

did he care? He thought he knew the answer. Donte didn’t want

Santos harmed. But privately Adin thought it would probably

be better all round if Santos were nothing more than a gritty

pile of debris.

“He slipped away during the fight.” Tuan looked away, and

Adin thought there was more to the story than he was telling.

“And the young one? Elian?” asked Adin. He wasn’t sure he

wanted to know, but he had to ask anyway.

“Gone,” Tuan said. Adin felt a pang of real regret. Tuan

turned away when two other men, also dressed all in black and

carrying swords, came into the office to confer. “Adin, these

men will take you outside to wait for medical help. We have

work to do in here.”

“All right.” Adin didn’t ask what they had to do. If it went

beyond the cleanup and removal of evidence that vampires

existed, Adin didn’t want to know. He turned back to Tuan.

“Does everyone know about this? Does Edward?”

Tuan turned to him. “Not everyone, no. Only a very few

people would ever find out that they walk among us. Edward

knows. That’s how we met.” Tuan gave Adin an enigmatic

smile. Adin stared at him without the first clue how it made him

feel that his best friend had been keeping a secret of that

magnitude from him.

One of Tuan’s men took Adin gently by his uninjured arm

and helped him out the door to the front of the house. There

was an ambulance waiting there, and Adin allowed himself to be

treated. Adin thought his arm was the most pressing of his

problem, but as soon as they had him lying on the gurney, they

152 Z.A. Maxfield

started an IV and took precautions for shock. Adin had to

admit shock was a pretty likely scenario when he started to

shake as though he would fly apart.

Just before they loaded him into the ambulance, Tuan

loomed over him. “I’ve already called Edward. He’ll phone your

sister in L.A. and meet you at the hospital.”

Adin grimaced as he was jostled. “Tuan, did Donte Fedeltà

contact you? Did he send you?”

“Who?”

“Donte Fedeltà…” Adin tried again. “Tuan, tell me if he

sent you.”

Something uneasy flickered in Tuan’s eyes. “We’ve been