Deep Deliverance: The Deep Series, Book 3 (4 page)

“Even great men become beasts when their bellies are empty enough.”

“The food I’m used to eating comes on china plates—on white linen tablecloths. I had choices.”

Santos’s grim expression returned. “Obviously, you still have
choices
. You choose rabbits, although they won’t hold back the hunger for long.”

“I know. But it’s what I want.” Adin stood and faced Santos so he could read the truth of that. “You and Donte—
everyone
—must accept that.”

“You have to learn how to thrive, Adin, not to merely survive. The world is waiting for you to be a part of it again.”

“How can you say that? My world is over. It’s gone if I want to be a decent—”

“Human being?”

Adin crossed his arms. “If you must know? Yes.”

“It’s possible to be a decent vampire.” Santos picked his coat up and shook it out. “It’s easy to lose your way, but it’s possible.”

“Are you saying that’s what you are?”

“Heavens no. I’m an
excellent
vampire, by which I mean I’m rarely decent.” Santos donned his coat, picked up Adin’s umbrella and handed it over, taking the care to dust him off. As they stepped into the sunlight Santos opened his umbrella, flinching until he moved it securely between him and the sun. “You don’t have to be like me. But you don’t have to be like Donte either. I think you must leave the nest and fly on your own for a while.”

Of course you do.
“I told you. I’m not ready for that yet.”

“I should say not. If you set foot in the city in your condition, your lover’s enemies will fall on you like starving wolves.” Santos drew his handkerchief from his pocket and handed it over. He tapped his chin with a small smile. “You have a little something…”

“So what are you suggesting?” Adin wiped at his mouth. When he pulled the cloth away it was covered in fur and rabbit gore.
Christ.
He scrubbed his face. “There. Is it all right now?”

“Yes. You’re fine.” Santos refused the awful thing when Adin tried to give it back. “Er… You can keep that.”

They continued walking at a sedate pace. Hunger abated for the moment, Adin took in all the sights and scents of the forest. Bright blue feathers caught his eye and he followed the progress of the pinyon jay from tree to tree.

“Donte should be shepherding you into the world, not shielding you from it. He should be showing you how to get along in the city. How to feed properly, without harming the host. He’s—”

“I like it here.”

“But what about your friends? The ones from San Francisco? The boy they adopted? Don’t you miss seeing them?”

“I—” Adin bit his lip. Edward and Tuan wanted him to come back to San Francisco. He missed talking to Bran desperately. He’d stopped calling because he felt bad disappointing them. He wasn’t ready to face them. He wasn’t ready to face anyone. “I Skype with them.”

“Your sister also is probably—”

“What do you know about my sister?” The instinct to fight—to protect his only living family—buzzed inside him like a jar of angry bees. “I mean it,
Santos. Leave Deana alone.”

“Calmati, I want nothing from her,” Santos soothed. “You have my word on this. But listen to an old man. Donte is keeping you locked up here at your expense. He—”

“Give it a rest, already.” Adin started back toward the cabin. “I can leave anytime I like. Why should I want to? There’s nothing so interesting that I’d—”

“Isn’t there?” Santos’s lips curved as if Adin had said something funny. “Isn’t there anything that appeals to you on the outside?”

“What? Is there something—”

“You really should attend Harwiche’s funeral.”

Adin turned toward him. Their umbrellas bumped, merged somehow, and stayed tangled. “Why on earth would I do that?”

Santos patiently pulled their umbrella spines apart. “Because it’s likely to be a very interesting event.”

“Really?” Adin couldn’t tell if Santos was serious. “A funeral.”

“It’s Harwiche. He was a revolting bastard in life, but his funeral might be amusing. It’s going to be held in Los Angeles—his family owns a crypt at the Hollywood Forever Cemetery. You could even visit with your sister while you’re there.”

God. Deana. How could he face her like this…an animal.
A monster.
“I’m not ready for that.”

“We’ll agree to disagree. Am I wrong to think you’d enjoy seeing a rival—a man who caused you as much trouble as Harwiche did—go to his final reward?”

Ned Harwiche III had been a horrible human being. It might be interesting to see who showed up to mourn him, if anyone. “Donte won’t want to leave.”

“Take Sean. He’ll look out for you.”

Christ.
The fireworks that would cause.
Now
that
might be interesting… “Forget it, Santos. I know you like making trouble, but—”

“Adin.” Santos turned away with a pleased smile on his face. “I never took you for a man who needs permission to do as he wishes.”

“You transparent bastard.” Adin’s picked up his pace. “You’re still trying to drive a wedge between Donte and me. Donte’s done that all by himself. Believe me.”

“Wait.” Santos gripped his arm. “Adin,
wait
. Donte alone cannot teach you what you need to know to survive, because he’ll never allow you to take chances. Perhaps it’s like a mother’s apron strings. Each child must go beyond them to grow.”

“What makes you an expert all of a sudden? Your
get
lives in fear of you. Do you think I’ve forgotten Elian? He was only a boy.”

“Believe what you will.” Santos looked almost hurt. “I truly care what happens to you.”

Adin studied his old frenemy covertly. After an inauspicious beginning, Santos had never harmed him. He’d been of considerable assistance when Adin had been desperate to hide Bran from his enemies.

Adin considered his idea. He and Donte had lived in an uneasy truce for weeks. Despite their differences, despite Adin’s anger, Donte was all he had left of the world he knew. To leave him would be to leave security behind. “I don’t think so.”

Santos sighed. “You have my number, should you change your mind.”

“Enough, Santos. You’re a guest in my home. It’s time you started acting like it.”

Santos’s second sigh was long-suffering as any adolescent’s. “All right.”

After that, he followed Adin back to the cabin in silence.

Chapter Six

Donte sat back and drew tendrils of smoke from his lips to his nose. A good lungful produced a modest buzz. Enough to take the edge off his loneliness, but not dull his senses. Somewhere in the darkness beyond the trees, Santos waited for Adin’s answer.

Harwiche, Christ. What a stain.

Donte pressed the soil lovingly around the little plant, watered it generously, and set it aside. As he started another, a pleasant feeling stole over him. It wasn’t quite contentment. It was more closely related to resignation, limned by the rosy glow of narcotics.

Heat from the plants in the greenhouse made sweat bead on Donte’s forehead, made his hair cling to his skin. Heedless, he dragged his dirty hand through it.

“Good boy.” Donte sensed Adin’s presence just as a hand fell on his shoulder. He turned with a smile. “I didn’t know you were there until you were right behind me.”

“I’m learning.” Along with his lips, Adin’s hazel eyes tilted up at the corners when he smiled, making him appear proud and almost feline.

“Very stealthy.”

“Or you’re preoccupied.” Adin hoisted himself up to sit on the potting table. “What’s on your mind?”

“I was thinking about Harwiche’s funeral.”

“And?” Adin picked up Donte’s blunt, took a deep drag, and held the smoke in.

In for a penny…
“I think you should attend.”

Adin nearly choked. “Really?”

“Why not? If it amuses you to see your nemesis buried, you should go. Dress in style and enjoy the small victory.”

Adin frowned at him. “I notice you’re not saying ‘we’ should go.”

“Because…”
Oh, how it cost him to say the words.
“I think you should go by yourself.”

“You do.” Obviously, Adin doubted his sincerity.

“It’s not as if I give a fig about Harwiche, one way or the other.”

Adin’s expression tightened. “You want me to go to Los Angeles
by myself
?”

“No.” Donte swallowed. Made himself say the words. “I think you should do as Santos suggested and take Sean with you.”

Adin’s expression went blank. “You want me to go to L.A. with Sean.”

“He’s an elder. He’s competent.” Donte’s gaze landed on the bloom of heat at the end of the blunt between Adin’s lips. He felt a certain rueful kinship with the little spark.
Like me, it glows brighter when Adin’s lips are involved.

“Are you sick again?” Adin’s cool hand found his forehead. “Or have you lost your fucking mind?”

Donte lowered his gaze. “You want to go. Admit it.”

“I
want
to ride a horse up the stairs at the Louvre. I don’t get to do everything I want.”

“Pazzo.” Donte smiled. “Always the rebel.”

“I can’t go. You don’t believe I’m ready, do you?”

“What I think doesn’t matter. Do you want to go?” Donte placed his hands on Adin’s knees and leaned in for a kiss. He was surprised that Adin didn’t flinch away.

“Here.” Adin turned the blunt and clenched the lit end between his teeth. He kept his tongue well back from the cherry and blew, pushing smoke into Donte’s lungs.

Donte inhaled.
Breath from Adin’s breath…Where did he learn to do such a thing?
“What is that?”

“Shotgun. Never mind.” Adin shrugged. “Why would you want me to go? We have everything we need right here.”

“Why are you even arguing?” Donte’s eyelids felt heavy and his fingertips numb. He didn’t usually smoke as much as he had this night. What was Adin asking for, really? Reassurance? Permission? Why was Adin objecting when Donte
knew
he wanted to go? “You despise me. You want to leave. Don’t try to tell me you don’t.”

“Donte—”

“You’re not happy here. You’re wasting your talent. Your excellent mind. You mope and you gaze out the window. If you were a mouse, you would gnaw through the wall to get away.”

“But—”

“You’re conflicted about…about us.” Donte sighed. “But you love me. I understand you’re angry—”

“Yes. I’m angry.” Adin took Donte’s face between his cool hands. “And I have questions.”

“I have no answers.”

Adin let out an irritated sigh. “Fair enough.”

“You think I have no faith in you, but I do.” He
did
have faith.
He had faith Adin would want nothing to do with him when he realized he didn’t actually
need
what Donte had to offer. “Go. Have an adventure. Take Sean. Learn the things I wasn’t able to teach you. Find your spark again.”

I love you enough to wish you that.

“Don’t say it like that.” Adin’s eyes clouded with hurt. “Why must I choose? Be here with you, or go alone? Why can’t you come with me?”

“Because I think for once Santos might be right, più amato. I’ve been an overprotective old fool. You will get nowhere with me holding you back.” Donte hesitated. “But never tell him I said so. There will be no end to his merriment.”

“I won’t go.” Adin tightened his knees around Donte’s thighs. Flinty defiance hardened his gaze before he slid to the edge of the table, rubbing his cock suggestively against Donte’s. “You don’t really want me to go, do you?”

“I will miss this.” Donte breathed against his skin. “And I will miss you.”

Adin locked his arm around Donte’s neck. “How much?”

“So very much.” Donte carefully moved his seedlings out of the way before he gripped Adin’s hips and pulled him snugly against his body, leaning in. “I will miss your nearness. Your body next to mine. I will miss your silliness and your arrogance.”

Adin pressed his lips to Donte’s temple. “Show me.”

He stepped back to slip Adin’s jeans down but encountered trouble at the man’s knees, which were still wrapped around Donte’s waist. “I believe we may have a problem.”

Adin simply lifted his legs, placing his feet on Donte’s shoulders.
Oh my.
He wore nothing beneath his thin sleep pants, the little trollop.
Donte worked them down—up—his legs and discarded them. “Why didn’t I think of that?”

“I’m a clever, clever man,” Adin leaned back to fumble through the old potting bench’s many drawers. “Got a PhD.”

“So I hear.” Donte pressed his lips to Adin’s bare chest appreciatively. Reverently. “Clever and modest.”

“Aha.” Adin found the lube Donte’d stashed in one of the drawers once he realized Adin liked to “Tiptoe through the Tulips” occasionally. “I believe someday the entire world will speak of my modesty in hushed and reverent tones.”

“Ridicolo.”

“My humility will inspire awe.”

Donte brushed his fingers over Adin’s cock, causing him to bite his lip, effectively shutting him up.
For now
. He hid his smile and went to work, stroking over the velvet and steel of Adin’s shaft, the beautiful, alabaster skin warming and thickening in his hand, blushing and proud as Adin strained against him.

Adin’s hips stuttered when Donte found a particularly sensitive spot, just there, beneath the glans. “Oh, yes. I know.”

“You do know. Better than I know myself.” Adin closed his eyes on a sigh. He let his fingers dance along Donte’s wrists and up his forearms. Trailed them lightly through the hair there like little frissons of delight. Donte started to pull off his shirt, but Adin gripped his hands to stay them.

“We’re back to that, are we?” It was well established that Adin enjoyed having Donte clothed while he was stripped bare. Donte forced himself to admit the thrill went both ways. “You’d have made an exquisite body slave, back in the day when that was the done thing.”

“You know how much I admire your tailor.” Adin’s stroked the shirt Donte wore, a finely woven Egyptian cotton fitted with mother-of-pearl buttons.

Donte gripped Adin’s cock to get his mind back on the business at hand. “Pay attention to my dick, not my shirt.”

“
Yes
.” Adin arched against his hand.

“I’ve got you.” Making love with Adin could be a dreamy, familiar dance of fingers and lube and gentle rapture or a hurricane. Mozart or EDM with laser lights. And Donte could never tell quite which until—

“More.” Adin arched again, flushed with arousal, needy and hard and leaking onto his belly. “C’mon, old man. I need you.”

“
Impatient
.” Donte made a slapdash job of preparation, more for form than requirement these days. Adin and he were always ready for each other. Always soft and pliant and happy to draw each other down into a bit of sport. “You’ll have me.”

A grunt, a sweet, accommodating lift of Adin’s hips, and he seated himself, magically, blissfully inside his lover’s body.
This never gets old—this primal satisfaction of owning.
Though he’d never let that word leave his mouth for fear of major retribution.

But owning. Yes. That goes both ways as well.

Donte pushed forward with a deeply satisfied release of breath, of tension. Heart pounding, blood rising like a storm surge, he began the pas de deux, a long push, a drag back. The rise and fall of hips with the tight grip of muscles to remind him he held a man who gave as good as he was given. Who asked for more and more and more until it was unclear who was giving and who was taking, and the real question simply became how to get to the finish line with the most accumulated pleasure.

Sweat beaded on Adin’s throat. Donte licked it off, bursting with yearning. His teeth elongated. His mouth watered.

“Go ahead. Bite. I fed.”

“No, caro.”
No.
Adin never fed enough…it would be wrong. It would be taking too much.

“But I want to feel it. I need you.”

“No.”

“Yes, Donte.” Adin’s fingers dug into his shoulders. “Mark me, goddammit. Everyone has to know I’m yours.”

Donte froze. “You’re going?”

“You knew all along I was going.”

“Yes.” Donte closed his eyes and struck, giving pleasure, taking sustenance.
They had that between them too. A vampire and his lover. His get. The confusion of unnatural family. He had himself for an in-law.
A brief, sad laugh escaped him.

“Don’t lose faith in me now,” Adin begged, hips churning. Fevered with passion. “I’ll be back. I swear it on whatever you believe in.”

“I believe only in you,” Donte ground out, pushing his cock into Adin’s yielding heat, digging himself deeper into Adin’s body as if he could lose himself there. “I believe in you. And this. I believe in
us
.”

“Yes, lover.
Yes
.” A deep, guttural groan escaped his lips and his entire body convulsed beneath Donte’s, muscles clenching like a vise around Donte’s cock. Spatters of pungent heat spread between them. “
Yes
. God.”

“You’re mine, Adin.”

“Yes.”

“Say it.”

“
Yours
.”

“No matter what?”

“No matter what.” Adin’s languid, feline expression of sexual satisfaction was the dearest thing Donte’d ever beheld. “Yours, my lover. Per siempre. Always, always.”

“Caro. Più amato.” Donte gripped him tighter and surged within him, finishing with punishing strokes Adin weathered with little gasps and aftershocks that stirred his blood and scrambled his languages. “Gods. Adin. Ti voglio tanto bene, Adin…
Adin
…
Adin
.”

Donte slipped over passion’s edge with Adin’s name on his lips like a benediction. Gods. When he’d least expected it, when he’d gone for centuries without it, love and lust and happiness—all the beauty he’d thought he’d left behind along with his mortal life—had found him. Love came in the guise of an American academic, of all things. Adin Tredeger.

His imagination filled with color, his body came to life at the merest thought of Adin. His heart had awoken from a long, nightmare-filled sleep, opened a single metaphorical eye, and then curled up around the idea of Adin Tredeger like a bird with a baby chick. Now they lay there, exhausted, their bodies entwined damply—steaming the greenhouse windows.

“That was brilliant.” The smile Adin gave him was supremely satisfied and sweet.

“Fool.” He returned Adin’s grin and placed a delicate kiss on his lips.

Good thing there were no neighboring cabins within visual range, which was not to say there was no one in the darkness, watching.

Sean was there. And Santos. They were plotting to take Adin away from him. They were probably hoping that once Adin understood the pleasure that came along with his new life—once he realized what it meant to be an immortal predator with the influence of a Mesmer and an insatiable appetite for blood and sex and money and power—he’d never return.

Maybe he wouldn’t. Their recent love-hate existence didn’t make for ironclad guarantees.

Donte pulled Adin closer, stroked small, sweaty circles on the back of his neck. Holding him like that. Feeling the press of his flesh, the lazy comfort of closeness in the aftermath of passion, it was nearly impossible to face letting Adin go.

What if he didn’t return?

What if he left with Sean—an ageless, enigmatic peer Donte trusted as much as he trusted any of his peers—and found the world outside more to his liking?

What was that song the Americans had sung during the Great War?
How you going to keep ’em down on the farm, after they’ve seen Pa-ree?

Donte reached for another of his organic, locally grown, hand-rolled herbal cigarettes. He lit it with the flick of a brass trench lighter as old as the song running through his head.

Tutto pasera…

He’d failed Auselmo. Failed himself. He’d never given everything he had for love. He’d never gone, as they say,
all in
. He could see that now. He’d believed that position, family, expectation, religion, and self-preservation mattered, and they simply didn’t.

All that ever mattered was the moment, the
urgent now
.

Donte had the opportunity to love Adin with his whole heart and live that love as though he only had this singular, unique moment to experience that love, because in the brevity of a human heartbeat, in the fraction of a second it takes to blink, that precious now would be gone and he’d never get it back.

“Go see your rival buried, amante.” Donte exhaled a thin blue stream of skunk-scented smoke. “Visit your sister. I’ll be here when you return.”