mean, I know, who wouldn’t, right? But…I thought you
weren’t that into the idea of finding love. I thought it was all
about the treasure hunt for you, the quest. Both for manuscripts
and men.”
Adin drank his Bloody Mary, not unaware of the irony. “It
was—it is… But maybe lately it’s grown a little mechanical. You
know what I mean?”
“Mechanical,” Deana said. “Read: boring?”
“Oh hell no.” Adin thought about Tariq and almost
shivered. “No. More like pointless.”
“But, Adin, you’re not likely to want to assemble bicycles for
the kids on Christmas Eve. You have a life a lot of men dream
of. You can pursue your career; you don’t need money. You
certainly don’t lack physical companionship.”
“To
whom
have you been talking?” he teased.
NOTTURNO
175
“I don’t need to talk to anyone, Adin. Anyone with eyes can
see you’d do fine at a club. People like you; you’re genuinely
nice. Can you see that if a committed relationship is what you
want, you can probably make that happen, despite what you’re
feeling right now?”
“I know, Deana,” he said. “Give me a minute to catch my
breath, will you? I thought I was immune to even the basic
concept of love.”
“Brought low at last.” Deana picked up her own glass. “Oh,
what fools these mortals be.” He touched his glass to hers. The
waitress brought his food, and as he scanned the crowded
restaurant, preparing to eat it, he realized he was looking for the undead.
“You don’t know the half of it,” he muttered before taking a
big bite out of a kosher dill pickle.
Later that night, Adin drove Deana’s car down Santa Monica
Boulevard, taking in the lights, the scenery, and the sheer
exuberant excess that was West Hollywood. He’d dropped
Deana at home and asked to borrow the Beemer, giving himself
the excuse that he needed some fresh air. She asked if he
remembered he was in Los Angeles and he’d have an awfully
long drive to find any. He’d been down to the beach already,
driven up and down Coast Highway, and stopped for a while
near the Santa Monica Pier to people watch.
It was late enough that the traffic was light by L.A.
standards, and he found himself parking the car near the
Hollywood Forever Cemetery with very little in the way of a
plan in mind, just an imperfect memory of what had been, for
him, a perfect night. He walked to the entrance, assuming he’d
be turned away or at least locked out if there were no guards on
duty. But when he got there, he saw the tiny golf cart coming
toward him with the same security guard in it he’d seen talking
to Donte. Adin racked his brain trying to remember the man’s
name.
“Michael?” he asked, as the security guard approached him
on foot. “Was that your name?”
176 Z.A. Maxfield
The man squinted at him. “Do I know you?”
“I came here with Donte Fedeltà,” said Adin. “I’m Dr. Adin
Tredeger. I’m a researcher, specializing in antique manuscripts.”
That sounded impressive, even to Adin’s mind.
“Oh, yeah, now I remember. The last time Mr. Fedeltà was
here you were with him, right?” The man tipped his visored hat
back on his head. He had a contagious smile. “How is Mr.
Fedeltà?”
“He’s fine,” prevaricated Adin. “Last time I heard from him
I was in the Bay Area, but he seemed fine.”
“Good. Mr. Fedeltà is nice. Always polite. Respectful of the
dead.” He looked around. “Did he send you here? He didn’t call
me or anything.”
“No,” said Adin quickly. “No, he didn’t. I was visiting my
sister, who lives here. Well. Not here, here,” he said, referring to the cemetery, “but in L.A., and she gave me her car for the
evening. I was driving around, and I thought I’d see if I could
come visit the cemetery again. It’s peaceful here at night.”
“That it is.” The guard considered him for a minute. “I don’t
think that would be a problem, since you’re a friend of Mr.
Fedeltà. Come with me. Just let me know when you want me to
let you back out,” he said, letting Adin through the gate.
“Thank you very much, Michael.”
“You’re welcome. Watch your step on the grass.”
Adin began walking at a leisurely pace. He headed carefully
for the mausoleum, wishing he had Donte’s night vision to
guide him. At the same time he felt like a fool, like some
teenage emo kid with a crush, cruising the cemetery with a
broken heart. He could hear the water and smell it, and when he
got to the mausoleum, he sat on the steps, just as he had with
Donte. He closed his eyes and concentrated on the sound of
the night around him, the breeze whispering through the trees,
the fountain trickling, the water lapping at the edges of the little lake. He could hear rustling in the bushes close by, and cars on
Santa Monica Boulevard farther away. He tried to remember
NOTTURNO
177
what it felt like to see all this as Donte saw it, crisp and clear
and with all his senses enhanced.
Restless, he got up and began to walk again, stopping here
and there to look at monuments. On one, a pot of rosemary
tortured into a topiary in the shape of a heart caught his
attention, and he ran his fingers over it experimentally. He
continued to walk, wondering, at first in his mind and then
aloud, if Donte would join him.
“Donte,” he said aloud, thinking of Sean saying,
“call my
name into the wind.”
“If I were to call you, would you come to me here?” He closed his eyes as he said this, and even through the
impossibility of such a thing, it didn’t surprise him when an
amused voice punctured the quiet of the evening next to his ear.
“You’ve changed your cologne, caro.” Donte fell into step
with him as he neared the water. He handed Adin his
borrowed
tie, the one he had taken when they first met on the airplane.
Adin took it as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
“My luggage left without me. It’s in Washington, and my
scent went with it. My sister purchased this one. Like it?”
“Yes.” Donte picked up Adin’s hand and held it to his lips.
“But there’s something else. Rosemary?”
“I touched a topiary on a grave. Rosemary for remembrance,
I guess. Very Ophelia-esque.” Adin felt Donte’s smile on the
back of his fingers. Donte let his hand down but didn’t
relinquish it. They walked for a time, hand in hand.
“I find it impossible to believe that you’ve forgiven me,”
Donte said finally. “I’m not sure I have forgiven myself.”
“It was a difficult choice. I’m still alive, or I’d have very
different feelings about it.”
“How magnanimous you are in the face of a terrible
betrayal.”
Adin thought about it. “Betrayal requires trust, Donte. I had
admiration, interest, healthy respect, even fear, but trust?” He
shook his head. “You told me not to trust you. You didn’t
betray me.”
178 Z.A. Maxfield
“I have spent a long time requiring myself to be wherever
Santos is not, if you understand my meaning. I’ve dodged
confrontations with him for centuries.”
“He told me.”
“Did he?” Donte considered this. “I’m surprised. I would
have thought he’d keep his business with me a secret. He’s so
ashamed of us. Ashamed of his father.”
Adin squeezed his hand. “I think he loved his father very
much, and his feelings for you are mixed up with jealousy,
anger, betrayal, and superstition. He repeatedly spoke about his
father dying unshriven and buried in unconsecrated ground.”
“I guess you can take the man out of the church, but you
can’t take the church out of the man, caro.” The corners of
Donte’s mouth lifted slightly.
“At any rate, when last I saw him, he told me his willingness
to kill me wasn’t personal.” Adin led Donte to a memorial
bench and sat on it.
Donte sat next to him, fastidiously fussing with the crease in
his trousers and making Adin laugh in the process. “Wasn’t
personal,” Donte muttered. He looked over at Adin. “What are
you laughing at?”
“Behold, it is I, Donte, remorseless predator of the night.”
Adin mimicked. “Wait whilst I fix my trousers so they remain
creased properly, and I shall show you…” Adin bent over
laughing.
“I cannot help but feel that you mock me at your peril, Adin
Tredeger.” Donte regarded him coolly.
Adin shook his head. “It’s no good anymore, you know?
I’ve been inches away from dying at the hands of conscienceless
predators, and I can spot a big undead lapdog when I see one.”
“You dare?” asked Donte, appalled.
“I dare,” said Adin, turning toward the vampire and
throwing a leg over to straddle his lap.
“Adin”—Donte sputtered—“I cannot help you in the world
in which you find yourself if you refuse to acknowledge…”
NOTTURNO
179
Adin kissed Donte soundly, on the mouth, dragging his
tongue across Donte’s lower lip slowly and deliberately for
effect. He caught it between his teeth and drew it out, letting it
go with a
snap
.
“Donte, you mistake,” he purred, using Donte’s own accent,
playing. “You cannot be expected to know this, but I am the
apex of the academic food chain, and the scourge of students
and nontenured professors alike.” Donte kissed him back for a
while, then pushed him away. Even then Adin didn’t think he’d
quite absorbed his shock.
“Adin, you have become unhinged.”
Adin smiled. “I have.” He took Donte’s face between his
hands, cupping it gently, framing it, and stroking Donte’s
cheeks with his thumbs. He felt such an impossible tenderness
he was unable to speak. Donte’s hands were on his back, under
his jacket, caressing him, and suddenly he couldn’t decide where
he wanted his own hands to be first. Adin pushed Donte’s suit
jacket off and put his hands to the buttons of his shirt, as
Donte’s elegant fingers went to his belt buckle.
“Donte,” whispered Adin, rising to his knees. This position
forced Donte to look up into his eyes, as Adin cupped his face
in both hands. “No vampire tricks. Tonight you’re just a man.”
“Yes,” Donte agreed, sliding the leather of Adin’s belt
through the loops on his jeans. Adin took it from him. “What?”
“Just a man, Donte,” said Adin, as he pushed Donte’s hands
behind him and wrapped the leather around his wrists. He
wrapped the belt around three times and buckled it shut,
knowing that if Donte didn’t choose to be bound, he couldn’t
be. He undid Donte’s own belt and then his trousers, freeing
his cock in the process and holding it in both hands. Adin felt
Donte’s eyes on him, hot with need.
Adin slid down until he was kneeling before Donte. His
head descended, and he licked his way up the throbbing shaft
and put his mouth around it. Donte hissed, and a number of
startled birds flew out of a tree.
“Donte, no vampire tricks,” warned Adin.
180 Z.A. Maxfield
“Wasn’t me.” Donte panted. “I pledge it… A cat, I think.”
Adin smiled and returned to his task. He licked Donte’s
cock with the flat of his tongue and then teased his way past its
defenses to the tiny slit on the tip. He wrapped his lips around it and bobbed down, taking Donte’s entire cool length until his
nose was in the thick patch of hair at its base, and then changed
to suction, drawing off with such protracted precision that
Donte cursed his name and thrashed under him. Adin used his
left hand to cup Donte’s balls and stroke the sensitive skin
behind them, eventually teasing at Donte’s hole. Donte shivered
in anticipation. He slicked Donte’s cock, then rose and kissed
the man, absorbing his shocked gasp. Adin toed off his shoes,
rid himself of his jeans, and then straddled Donte and watched
his eyes closely as he lowered himself.
“
Adin.
” Adin felt Donte’s cock slip past the tight ring of
muscle guarding his ass.
“
Yes
…” Adin whispered, his head tipping back. “Wanted
this.
Wanted you
.” He rocked his hips and shifted, beginning to move.
“Yes, Adin,” Donte whispered. “
Yes.
”
Adin closed his eyes. This was for him
.
His moment to
savor being alive when not so very long ago that seemed like an
impossible outcome. He sought Donte’s mouth in a desperate
kiss.
“Feel me?” Adin asked against Donte’s lips. He squeezed his
ass tight and hard around Donte’s cock. He caught Donte’s
head in his hands. His heart was slamming against his rib cage
as he quickened the movement of his hips. Donte was rocking
up into him, his hips coming off the bench to meet Adin’s ass
as their coupling turned quick and dirty. Donte gritted his teeth
and slammed so hard into Adin that Adin lost his breath in
shocked gasps, air shoved out of his body by the impact, the
force of Donte’s hips against his.
“Yes,” cried Adin between gasps. “Donte…
Fuck…yes
!” He
was coming then, ribboning onto Donte’s belly, his own, and