Deep Deliverance: The Deep Series, Book 3 (15 page)

“Are you talking to me?” Adin squinted his eyes to see past the glow. What the hell was their problem?

“Yeah, I’m talking to you. What are you doing with Barrett?”

“I’m pretty sure that’s none of your business.” Adin thought he’d said it aloud. He might have mumbled it though.

“Can’t you talk?” one of them asked with a laugh.

Adin laughed at that too. He couldn’t seem to keep himself from it. He was finding all this hilarious. “Cat’s got my tongue.”

“Think you’re funny? Fucker.” One of them got right in his face. “I think the dude’s on something.”

“Do you suppose he’s rogue?” the one without color said.

“That’d be great.” They all laughed. “If we found a rogue vampire, that’d be totally awesome.”

“Check him.”

“What are you talking about?” Adin’s uneasiness ratcheted up a few levels. What were they talking about?

“There’s only one way to find out.” The dark one shrugged. “Check him for a token.”

In that light, Adin couldn’t see the kid’s features. He was…nothing. He was empty space. He was there, but—Adin rubbed his eyes—it was impossible to really see him.

“Adin!” A glowing red Barrett hurried toward them from inside the coffee shop. He had a drinks carrier and was trying to hold it level as he ran. He looked like a waiter. Adin blinked again. God, he wanted that tea. He was so tired.

Sugar. Caffeine. He needed… “Hey, Barrett. Do you know these guys?”

There was a brief scuffle, while Barrett and one of the others hissed furiously at each other. Everyone they’d met had seemed so nice, except these guys were assholes. Who we
re they anyway? They were trying to get Barrett to leave without him. Urgently whispering that he should go home and pretend he’d never been there, but Barrett wasn’t having any of it.

Barrett was such a great kid. Adin felt his heart swell with affection for him. But not literally. Because that wouldn’t be so great, would it? Hearts don’t literally swell. At least, he hoped not.

“Leave him alone, guys, I mean it.” Barrett looked scared. “You don’t know what you’re doing.”

“Quit this.” Adin waded forward. He might be nothing more than a goddamned corpsepuppet, but none of these red jelly beans was going to hurt his friend. “Leave Barrett be.”

Something crackled and sparked in his peripheral vision, and just when he got to Barrett, the kid dropped like a rock. Coffee and tea splashed everywhere. Smoke that smelled like singed hair wafted to Adin’s hypersensitive nose.

“You fuckers.” Adin went to his knees to help Barrett but someone grabbed him from behind. A soft black bag, or maybe a hoodie, dropped over his head. Several pairs of hands pulled at him, but he fought like a man crazy with rage, with grief, with raw fear.

Maybe that was the problem. He fought like a man, and he should have been fighting like Kind.

That was nearly his last conscious thought. That and
Oh, God…Donte
…

“Throw him in the van. If he’s a rogue, it’s going to be a good night.”

There was a second crackle and Adin’s body dissolved into burning agony.

Chapter Twenty

Donte was startled out of intense concentration by a feeling of dread. He’d been sketching Adin from memory, deeply relaxed, when he heard Adin call for him, as clearly as if he’d been in the next room. Clearer. He’d heard Adin’s voice as if Adin had been next to him in the bed.

The pencil fell from his fingers as he concentrated on the sound. Concentrated on the connection that rarely failed them.

He felt nothing.

He dropped his sketchpad and picked up his phone and dialed Adin’s number. Adin didn’t answer. He dialed Sean.

“Ye’d better be telling me I’ve won the clearinghouse sweepstakes.”

“Is Adin with you?”

“Wait a minute.” A muffled rustling sound, a slap, and a masculine laugh later, Sean returned. “No. Should he be?”

“He didn’t call you last night?”

“No. Was he—”

Donte hung up and pressed another key.

Boaz answered on the first ring. “Boss?”

“I want you.” Donte hung up. If those terse words had been good enough for Alexander Graham Bell, they were good enough for Donte Fedeltà. He wasn’t capable of more just then. He was worried as hell.

Where had Adin gone in the middle of the night, without telling him? Without taking Sean or Santos? How the hell was he supposed to trust Adin when he said one thing and then did another?

Donte had little time to ponder that before Boaz appeared at the door to Adin’s room. “Thank you for coming.”

“What do you need?” Boaz had dressed hastily. He was, in fact, still buttoning his jacket. His hands went up to smooth his hair. “Where’s Adin?”

“Do you still have the tracking device on Adin’s phone?” Donte asked. “Can you check it from my laptop?

“Yes.” Boaz cracked his knuckles and sat down at the desk, where Donte had set up his laptop earlier. “And yes. What has he done now?”

“I don’t know.” Donte gritted his teeth. “He went out earlier and he hasn’t come back. I believe he’s in trouble.”

“Of course he is.” Boaz continued typing. “When was the last time you saw him?”

“About midnight. He said he was going to call Sean and go feed.” Donte leaned over and watched Boaz fire up the computer. He typed in the secret, ultra-secure password that only Donte was supposed to know. He growled and Boaz had the grace to look abashed.

“What did Sean say?”

“Adin never called him.”

“What a surprise.” Boaz heaved a glorious sigh. “This will only work if he has his phone turned on. If it’s charged. If he hasn’t lost it.”

“Just do it.” Donte gazed up at the ceiling. “We can worry about the rest if you find out it doesn’t work.”

“I’m just saying. If Adin didn’t want you to keep track of him, then he’ll have turned off the phone or ditched it.”

“Let’s not assume the worst.”

Boaz’s brown eyes seemed to peer into Donte’s soul. “He has been very angry with you for a while. I’m sure that my being here didn’t help things.”

“We made a—” Donte wondered how to put it, “—bargain of sorts. We made progress.”

Boaz glanced at the unmade bed. “So I gather.”

“It’s not just that. We talked. I thought we understood each other. He asked me to trust him.”

“So why are we looking for him? If he asked you to trust him, perhaps you should.” The words were uncharacteristically gentle.

“I heard him call my name as surely as if he were standing next to me. Now I can’t feel him out there.”

Boaz opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again. He went back to the computer, tapped the keys, and shook his head. “Not here. Not that I can tell. He’s probably run out of charge.”

Donte nodded. He practically fell back onto the bed and sat there, saying nothing.

Boaz prodded him again. “Can you think of anywhere he might have gone?”

“Perhaps he went to see his sister?”

“That’s right. She lives here, doesn’t she? Let me see if I can find a number for her.”

Donte waited, and all the while every possible scenario went through his mind. He’d been drawing Adin, concentrating on the memory of how he’d looked just after they’d made love. Flushed and beautiful. Golden and debauched as a fallen angel.

Maybe he’d simply been so deep into his reverie that he imagined hearing Adin’s voice? Maybe it had been wishful thinking?

“Hello, may I please speak to Dr. Tredeger?” Boaz waited while the person on the end of the line spoke. “No. I meant Dr.
Adin
Tredeger. He’s not there? I know it’s not his number, but he’s not there? I see. Thank you. No. No message.”

Donte accepted the news before Boaz could give it. “Not at Deana’s then.”

“I’m sorry, sir.”

“It was worth a try.”

“Anyplace else?”

Donte closed his eyes and sent a message with his whole heart.
Adin…Adin… Do not do this to me. I know I heard your voice.

“We should notify the council,” said Boaz. “They’ll need to know.”

Donte nodded. Christ. This was bound to become a mess. “Adin never met with the council.”

“He what?” Boaz turned to him. “Didn’t Santos have him meet with the elders when they got here?”

“Adin is so stubborn.” Donte scrubbed his face with both hands. “Santos took him to a gathering and he left before they could give him a token. Ellen tried to meet with him several times, but I suspect he dodged her. At least one time, I assisted him with that.”

“You might come to regret that, Donte.” Only rarely did Boaz ever use Donte’s name. It was a measure of how deeply Donte had failed Adin that he did so now.

“I already regret it.”

“You need to go to the elders.”

“If I do—”

“Adin might have to pay a steep price for this. He’s come into the area without declaring himself. If he gets into some sort of trouble, or the council of elders has to act on his behalf with the authorities—”

“He asked me to trust him. What else could I have done?”

“I understand.” Boaz met his gaze.

“We could call Tuan.” Donte weighed his options as he picked up his phone. He wasn’t his usual decisive self. Obviously. He couldn’t think of anything but the way Adin had left. He’d said he was going to call Sean. He’d sounded so sure of himself.

“Donte?”

Had Boaz been speaking? “What?”

“I said, the sun is rising.”

“I know that.” His irritation grew. “I can feel it, like always.”

“It’s going to be ninety degrees out there today.”

“Is it?”

“It’s going to be
merciless
.” Boaz met his gaze. “Bad day to lose a vampire.”

“Call Tuan.” Donte fell back. He let his head hit the mattress with an unsatisfying thud. “And leave me alone for a while.”

“I’ll ask Tuan to meet me in the lobby. For now, I won’t say anything if the elders approach me.”

“Thank you.”

Boaz took his phone and left the room. The door closed with a snick, shutting out the world, leaving Donte to consider his problem.

He tried listening to his heart—that unused, ice-cold organ. Poor little piece of flesh. Adin had cracked it open like a cheap safe the moment they’d met, and every bit of his common sense had apparently fallen out.

Donte listened to his heart, but his heart didn’t answer.

Chapter Twenty-One

“Did
you find a token?” someone asked.

“Nuh-uh. This one’s a rogue all right. Funny. He don’t look rogue.”

Adin’s eyes were closed and he didn’t want to open them. It was childish, really. He didn’t want to see what kind of trouble he was in. His head ached, and he was so parched. What was a rogue? The kids had used that word too.

He was so hungry. He needed to feed…

He needed…

“Oh my God. He’s got a black Amex card.”

“I’ve never even seen one of those. Gimme that.”

“See?” The first voice. “I’ll bet you could buy a car with that.”

“You could buy a house with that.” A third person spoke, a woman with an Hispanic accent. “Put a down payment on it, anyway. That’s weird though. These rogue bastards normally only got a little cash on them. Uh-oh. We’re probably going to have to isolate this one.”

“Why do you say that?”

“See that jaw clenching?”

“Yeah. What about it?”

“I seen it before. Didn’t you say some kids turned him in?”

“Yeah.”

“We got a bunch of these jaw-clenchers after Wango Tango last year. It’s because of the molly. If the corpsepuppets do molly, especially the younger ones, they get dehydrated and lose control. They’ll go all feral on you fast as anything. I knew a guard once, had his throat ripped open. Lost his vocal cords. Couldn’t never talk after that.”

Molly…Who is Molly?

“Shit.”

“Yeah…Cuidado, m’ijo. Put it with the really strong ones. Not the kiddies, okay?”

“Got it.” Rough hands on him. Leading him. Dragging him. Too much light. Too much blinding, humming fluorescent light.

He landed on the concrete floor with an audible clatter of bones and skin. He felt brittle. He felt porous and dry. He had to feed.

Needed…

Adin opened his gritty eyes. Where
the hell
was he?

“Hello, sunshine. Welcome to hell.” The gruff voice made Adin turn his head. All he saw was a pair of boots, a crisscross of buckles. Adin’s eyes traveled upwards and found thick, stocky legs clad in denim jeans. Buckles, more buckles. Studs. Leather. A salt-and-pepper beard and hard, cold eyes…

“Thirsty,” he managed the word finally. He tried to say more, but his jaw…his jaw didn’t work. Wouldn’t unclench. He grunted and tried to rise to a sitting position.

“We’re all thirsty here.” One of the booted feet pulled back. “Don’t get any big ideas.”

Bam.
The boot connected and Adin’s head flew back.

Chap
ter Twenty-Two

Ellen Wentzler did not look amused. Tuan had left to call Edward, and Santos and Sean conferred silently in the hall. A very chastened, unhappy Barrett Harwiche sat in an armchair flanked by his sister, Elizabeth. Donte sat on his other side.

“So Dr. Tredeger left last night. He said he was going to call Sean Houlihan and feed.”

“Yes.” Donte nodded. “That’s correct.”

She peered at Donte as if she’d found him on the sole of one of her sensible shoes. “And you haven’t seen him since. Instead, he went out with this boy? They went to a storage locker and a club, and then for coffee where they were attacked.”

“That’s correct.” Donte despised reporting Adin’s disappearance to the council, but it had become a necessary evil. Long hours had passed since he’d woken with Adin’s voice in his head.

“Young man,” Ellen said gently.

Barrett didn’t look up until his sister nudged him with her elbow.

Tawny eyes blinked. “What?”

“Tell me again what happened?”

“We got jumped.” Barrette glanced away. “They tased me and they took Adin.”

“And you don’t know who these attackers were?”

“No.”

Donte heard the lie in his voice. Saw it in his body language. He couldn’t read into the shifter’s mind or heart like he could have a human’s, but the lie was there. “Tell the truth.”

“He told you what he knows.” Elizabeth leapt to her brother’s defense. “He’s tired.”

“I’m so sorry, my dear.” Ellen’s expression didn’t look promising. She was old enough to remember the days when vampires and shifters were deadly enemies, and her soft smile held a hint of cruelty. Barrett was not going to get off so lightly. “But as a material witness to the attack on and kidnapping of a member of the Kind community, he’ll need to stay here for the time being.”

“But I didn’t do anything.” Barrett mumbled the words. “We just hung out.”

“I’m sure that this will be settled very soon. In the meantime, I can offer you water or a soft drink.”

He rolled his eyes. “Fine. Whatever.”

“Am I free to go?” Elizabeth asked coolly. “I have to get in touch with our attorneys.”

“Certainly you may go, Elizabeth,” Wentzler said with feigned surprise. “But I can assure you, there’s no need to bring your attorneys in on this. Your brother’s in no trouble at this point. He’s the victim of a crime, and as such, I should think you’d rather stay here to support him.”

“This blows and you’re a bitch.” She kissed her brother on the top of his head. “I’m going to see if I can’t find someone to help me get my brother out of here.”

“Elizabeth.” Tuan had apparently finished his phone call and was now standing in the doorway. “Be civil.”

“This isn’t our problem, Agent Nguyen, and you know it. This is Kind business and Kind protects Kind. They have no right to keep Barrett here. He didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Maybe he didn’t, but he’s our only resource. He knows what happened to Adin. Maybe he’ll remember more when he’s feeling a little better.”

“He’s not likely to be feeling better with all these cor—” she stopped herself before she could utter the pejorative
corpsepuppets
, “—undead dudes around.”

“I understand your frustration,” Ellen said. “But it’s imperative we find Dr. Tredeger. From what Mr. Fedeltà and Agent Nguyen say, he’s not yet acclimated to Kind life.”

“Not our problem, lady.” Elizabeth folded her arms.

“Elizabeth, stop.” Tuan stepped in front of Barrett’s chair. “Okay, Barrett?”

The sullen boy glanced up at him. “Hi.”

“One more time, please. You went out to a storage locker in North Hollywood to get your father’s papers…”

While Donte watched, Barrett told his story again and again.

Damn Adin.

It was just like him to follow his impulse to go to a strange place with a bare acquaintance on a whim in the middle of the night. That part of Barrett’s story was entirely too credible. Donte had no doubt that, at least, was true. But the part after? Drinking with the boy? Dancing? Winding up at some coffeehouse in the wee hours? There was more to that story. Donte was certain of it.

There was something the boy wasn’t telling them, but Donte had no way to make the little clam open up short of physical threat. And sadly, no one was going to allow him to damage the boy, even a little. He turned his back on them and stared out the window.

Adin was out there, somewhere. He was without backup. Donte couldn’t even blame Santos and Sean for the situation, because Adin had, once again, gone off on his own. That very fierce independent streak Donte loved, that insouciance, that fierce pride Adin had was going to be the death of both of them.

Donte’s cell phone vibrated to let him know he had a text message from Boaz.

“In the lobby.”

Donte slipped his phone back into his pocket. “If you’ll excuse me.”

Wentzler turned to him. “Did you get some news?”

Donte considered what he wanted to say. “I sent my man to retrace Adin’s steps. He’s just gotten back, and that’s all I know. I’m to meet him in the lobby.”

“Why doesn’t he come up here?”

Donte lifted an eyebrow. “Why indeed.”

“Wait—it’s not Boaz, is it?” Wentzler asked. “That godawful imp who shadows you like a lovesick dog? I thought you had a falling out.”

Donte didn’t have time for this. “That’s why you should never listen to rumors, Ellen.”

“I’m very surprised to hear you still trust him after all the times he’s given you reason not to.”

“Nobody—no entity—is entirely trustworthy. The trick is knowing to what degree you can trust someone and what you can trust them with. I find it’s always best to be aware of where another being’s self-interest lies. Your interest, for example, is in keeping your position with the council. I’d never place anything in your hands that might jeopardize that.”

“I see,” she said shrewdly. “Well. When you put it like that…”

“I knew I could count on you to look the other way if we have to make an…unconventional effort on Adin’s behalf.”

“Yes.” She nodded. “The Italians wrote the book on the ends justifying the means.”

“One of us did, at any rate.” Donte acknowledged that. “I’ll be in contact.”

“Fine. Keep me informed.”

“I will.”

Tuan was still questioning Barrett when Donte slipped from the room.

“Donte.” Santos greeted him with a nod. “Have you heard anything from Adin yet?”

Donte shook his head.

“That little gobshite,” said Sean. “What was he thinking, going off on his own like that?”

“He still thinks like a human,” Santos said. “He probably doesn’t have the faintest idea what kind of trouble he could get into.”

“I suppose that’s a criticism of me.” Donte leveled his gaze on Santos. “Because, of course, I should have forced him to feed off humans regardless of his feelings on the matter, filled his head with horror stories, and soldiered forward with a rough education, as though he were some ordinary thrall.”

“I understand. You meant to allow him time, but you should have told him—”

“One doesn’t
tell
Adin Tredeger anything.” Donte fisted his hands. “It’s not enough to say, ‘Don’t touch. Fire is hot.’ He generally has a compulsion to test the truth for himself.”

The hotel door opened and Elizabeth slipped out. At the sight of the three vampires, she hesitated. Perhaps she wouldn’t be as scrupulous with the truth if she knew Donte didn’t care about anything but finding Adin.

“Hello.” He pinned her with his gaze. “Can you tell me what Barrett is lying about?”

“He’s not lying.” Her chin lifted defiantly.

Santos and Sean exchanged glances.

Donte took a step toward her. “It’s immaterial to me at this point what your brother has done. I perceive that he’s lying. I want to know what he’s holding back. If he tells the truth, and if Adin is found soon, unharmed, I will be satisfied.”

She pursed her lips in disgust. “Yeah, right. You won’t hold anything I say against Barrett. I believe that.”

“You have my word, Elizabeth.” Donte controlled his fury.
Did this kitten dare to accuse him of perfidy?
“I would take it as a grave offense if you were to call
me
a liar.”

She looked to Donte, and then to Santos and Sean. Whatever she saw there must have made her rethink her position. “I never said you were lying. I mean I don’t trust you.”

“You’d have far more reason to trust us if you tell us the truth, young lady,” said Santos. “If you know something that could help lead us to Adin, you’d better talk now.”

“I have no idea where Adin is. But—” She bit her lip. Glanced at Santos, and then turned back to Donte. “For a lot of reasons, I shouldn’t tell you this.”

Donte waited her out.

She closed her eyes. “Oh, all right. Barrett slipped something into Adin’s drink.”

“A date rape drug?” Sean’s words startled all of them.

“No. Of course he wouldn’t—” She glanced at Donte. “He wouldn’t do anything like that. I don’t know what it was for sure, but molly, I think. Some party drug. He wouldn’t date rape someone. He’s not like that.”

“But Barrett drugged Adin?” Donte asked. “What could he possibly gain from that?”

“I’m sure he just wanted Adin to party with him. I don’t know. Barrett’s stupid sometimes. He does stupid things.”

“What other stupid things does he do?” Donte asked.

As she hesitated, she stared Donte down hard, clenching her jaw. She must have seen what she was looking for in Donte’s expression, because she sighed and spoke at last. “Last year some of the boys on the lacrosse team got in trouble for rolling rogues. Tuan helped us out, but—”

“Rolling rogues? They—” Santos gripped her by the shoulders. “What did these boys do?”

“Stop it.” She tore away. “You’re hurting me.”

“He’s sorry.” Sean pushed Santos back. “Tell us what you know.”

“These are entitled asslings, you realize? They found out they could get cash if they turned rogues over to the big pharma companies. For testing drugs and things. Sunscreens. They got Barrett into some trouble. Tuan had to intervene on his behalf before it got back to the Council of Kind.”

“That little fucker,” Sean grumbled. “He should have been locked up. They
torture
us in those godawful places.”

“So you’re saying you think that’s what’s happened to Adin?” Donte focused on the need to find Adin above all else. He could deal with the Harwiche twins later.

“How could it? No one would mistake Dr. Tredeger for a rogue. You’ve got the whole goddamn council out looking for him.”

“Jesus Christ.” Sean gave Santos a meaningful look. “He dodged the council every chance he got. Never met with them formally. He doesn’t know the protocol.”

Donte nodded. “And he was drugged. Even if he was able to speak for himself, there’s every chance someone looking to make some quick cash would bet he was unaffiliated.”

“Right. He didn’t have a token. Christ,” Sean said. “Of course they’d believe that.”

Without another word, Donte turned and headed for the elevator.

This was bad.

Really bad.