unsurprised when I tell you that nothing is more precious to me.
Therefore if anyone wishes to harm me, they will strike at me
through you.”
Adin kept silent but gave Donte’s arm a squeeze. It didn’t help
being reminded of their past; of how Santos had attempted to
use Adin to harm Donte over old vendettas.
Adin made the decision to tell Donte everything he knew. If
he was going to expect the same from Donte they had to begin
somewhere. “Harwiche has Auselmo’s papers. Santos sold them
to him to spite you. He’ll want to trade for Bran and he knows I
won’t allow it. I don’t want to go to war with you on this but I’m
prepared to protect that boy,” Adin said in a rush. He wanted to
get it out into the open, in case Donte either didn’t understand or
Boaz hadn’t shared that information. “I’m sorry. I should have
told you. I should have said exactly what—”
“Hush caro.” Donte lifted Adin’s hand to his mouth and
kissed it. “I know what Santos told you, but he was playing with
you. Harwiche has nothing that belonged to Auselmo. Santos
only told you that to cause trouble between us. I think when he
saw you in Paris it occurred to him as a parting shot. I told Boaz
to reassure you. Did he not?”
“No he didn’t.”
“That is troublesome.” Donte frowned.
“Santos.
That prick
.” Adin felt foolish and angry.
“He’s been manipulating men and women for centuries, try
not to take it personally.” Donte walked between the still barren
fruit trees, ghostly skeletons reaching spindle-fingered for the
night sky. Adin followed him, stepping carefully in the loamy soil.
“I did check it out, after Boaz indicated I should look into it.”
“I wonder why Santos thought I wouldn’t tell you, at least
eventually. That I wouldn’t ask you to help me protect Bran, and
find another way to get Auselmo’s things back.”
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105
Donte chuckled. “Because, più amato, he has completely
underestimated you.
Again.
I can’t tell you how happy that makes
me.”
“Really?”
“Certainly. He expected you to be jealous at the very least. Or
angry that I would once again put my love for Auselmo on the
scales and weigh it against what I feel for you.” Donte turned
and put his hands on Adin’s shoulders. “He expected you to take
Bran and run from me, fearing that I would sacrifice the boy for
mementos from my one true love.”
“I see.” Adin didn’t have to share that he might have preferred
if Donte didn’t refer to Auselmo as his “one true love.”
“But because you love me and trust me, you came to me for
protection instead. Santos completely underestimated your faith
in me.” Donte appeared delighted with his conclusion.
“I wonder if you know how particularly annoying you’re
being right now.”
“I beg your pardon?” Donte’s fine features slackened with
surprise.
“While you’re congratulating yourself because your human
came so quickly to heel, are you aware that I’ve been feeling
terrible about the whole thing?” Adin punched Donte’s arm.
“The thought that—once again—I might cost you something
valuable and important to you has been preying heavily on my
mind. Not to mention your apparent willingness to sacrifice me
in the past. It isn’t the best recommendation.”
Donte rubbed where Adin had landed his blow. “I did notice
you didn’t explicitly mention that Harwiche had Auselmo’s papers
at first, did you?”
“Because you had an
imp
in Santos’s employ!” Adin spit. “Did
I need to be explicit? And anyway, I alluded to it straight away
and I just
did
mention it.”
“Well. It was a lie. And despite my past behavior I intend to
help you to protect the boy.” Donte gazed at Adin seriously. “If
106 Z.A. Maxfield
you ask it of me.”
“You’d do that?” Adin hardly dared to breathe.
“For you, caro, yes. If the boy is precious to you then we
will keep him safe.” Adin was about to argue when Donte raised
his hand. “I can foresee no need to break my vow to protect
Christiano. Other than his little lie to you, Santos is uninvolved.
And as for Harwiche… he hardly matters now, at any rate.”
Donte took off back the way they’d come, walking briskly. “The
rain will come down in buckets any minute. You must go back
inside. I shouldn’t like you to become ill.”
Adin went after him, reduced to practically leaping from place
to place in his hurry to catch up and not harm his feet. “What do
you mean, Harwiche hardly matters?”
“Harwiche was injured,” Donte muttered. “Someone broke
into his home and stabbed him with a letter opener. They…
played with him first.”
Adin stopped in his tracks. “
What
?” he cried out. “Wait.
Stop
.
What
?”
Donte turned and met Adin’s eyes. “I found him or he’d
be dead. Someone nearly killed Ned Harwiche last night, and I
believe… It’s likely they were looking for Bran.”
“Boaz will be in bed, I expect.” Donte spoke in low tones
once they’d entered the kitchen. Adin was soaked through and
shivered with the cold. “Do you know how to use this?” Donte
pointed to a simple electric kettle. “You should have something
warm to drink.”
“You’re joking,” Adin accused.
“What?” Donte picked up the pot and pulled off the lid, gazing
earnestly into the interior of the white plastic appliance. The cord
slipped off the counter and dangled, hitting the cupboard with
a thud. “You’re shivering. If you make tea I’ll change and bring
you my dressing gown so you can remove your wet clothing—”
“You don’t know how to use an electric kettle?”
“Think, Adin. When would
I
ever have occasion to employ
one?”
“That’s true enough.” Adin took the pot from Donte with
a nudge of his shoulder and watched as he left the room. He
poured water into the vessel and plugged it in before searching
the cupboards for tea. When he found what he liked, he turned
his attention elsewhere.
Removing his clothes, peeling them off until he wore nothing
but goose bumps, Adin opened the door and dropped his wet
things outside. Only then did he realize that if the footsteps on
the stairs belonged to anyone other than Donte he might have
some explaining to do. Adin turned just in time to see Donte in
the kitchen doorway.
If vampires had to breathe other than to talk, Adin would
have said Donte held his breath. As it was, it looked like Donte
was certainly moved by what he saw. He halted in his tracks, put a
hand on the door frame, and smiled warmly. Adin felt devoured
by Donte’s eyes. His face heated as he stood there, fighting the
urge to cover himself with his hands.
108 Z.A. Maxfield
“You are utterly perfect, più amato,” Donte practically purred.
He stepped forward so slowly Adin was mesmerized by every
move he made. It had been months since they’d done a home-y
thing like having tea in the kitchen while the household slept.
Adin wanted to savor and prolong the moment, so he remained
cautiously still. “I found you handsome when we first met on the
plane. I planned to steal my journal back from you, and when
we spoke, I decided to play with you a bit. You were so cheeky; I
thought you deserved to be pulled down a notch or two.”
“I am Donte,” Adin teased, the familiar refrain singsong and
silly, “apex of the food chain on this planet…”
“
Enough
.” Donte stood behind Adin and draped the robe over
his shoulders, holding it so Adin could push his arms into the
sleeves. “Will you never tire of mocking me?”
“Probably not.” Adin bit his lip to keep from laughing.
Donte wrapped the robe around Adin as he pulled him
back into an embrace and kissed his neck. “I was going to say I
thought you were beautiful when we met, but I had no idea how
truly extraordinary you were, nor how much you would come to
mean to me.”
“
Donte
.” Adin’s heart sped up.
“I had the opportunity to think while you were in Paris without
me. I was engaged in some rather difficult business negotiations,
and I realized I had practiced some of those most unpleasant
tactics on you. It’s no wonder you left me.”
“I didn’t leave you, Donte.”
“You left our home,” Donte reminded Adin. “You didn’t say
when you’d return.”
“But I would have returned.” Adin leaned his head back on
Donte’s shoulder, finding it exactly the perfect height, as always.
“I believe you know that.”
Adin felt Donte’s lips twitch on the skin of his neck. “Perhaps
I did. I grew impatient, caro, can you forgive me?”
“Always.”
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109
“Do you promise me? Always?” Donte’s voice was urgent.
“My always,” Adin replied. “But that’s not what you want, is
it? Is that going to be enough?”
Donte pressed kisses on Adin’s nape then, so close the breath
he didn’t really need to take lifted Adin’s hair and ruffled it. “It
will have to be.”
Thick curls of steam indicated water boiled in the kettle, and
Donte let Adin go.
They sat together at the long table as Adin brewed their tea
in an old ceramic pot. The air seemed to hang thickly, shivering
with possibilities. Adin automatically poured two cups, simply for
show. Donte might take a few sips, but that too, was a façade.
Even as Adin sat across from his lover, he knew they were playing
at domesticity, knew he was kidding himself.
Reminded of the Japanese tea ceremony, Adin tried to imbue
his every movement with something symbolic and beautiful.
Something memorable that revealed his emotions, which he
wasn’t completely comfortable sharing. When he took his first
sip he sighed with contentment.
“What?” Donte lifted his cup and idly looked over Adin and
Bran’s chess game.
Adin captured one of Donte’s hands. “It’s nice to have you
here beside me. Does that sound lame?”
“I assume lame is being used as an insult these days?” Donte
allowed Adin to keep his hand but his attention remained on the
chessboard.
“Do I sound foolish to you?” Adin pressed.
“No more foolish than I am, trying my best to tie you to me
forever when that’s the last thing you desire.”
“Being tied to you is not the problem, Donte, I thought you
understood that. I don’t want to be—”
“Turned into a monster, yes.” Donte circled a finger on the
rustic table, but wouldn’t meet Adin’s eyes. “I understand. I’m
sorry. It’s late and I’m tired.”
110 Z.A. Maxfield
Adin frowned. “Tired?”
“Yes.” Donte took up his teacup. There had been something
about Donte that seemed different to Adin and he wondered
how he’d failed to noticed it. A shadow against Donte’s skin,
under his eyes. A slight hollowing of his cheeks. “I’m feeling
rather more of my years than usual, caro. I thought a bracing
walk might help but I’m still a little fatigued.”
“Does this happen often?” Adin asked, frowning. “I thought
you were immortal, immune to things that make humans sick. I
thought you never—”
“I can’t become diseased, Adin. But I can be fatigued. Often
the fault is my own. Either I don’t eat enough, or I choose
unwisely.”
Adin grew worried and offered himself. “Then take what you
need from me, lover, you know you don’t need to ask.”
“I will be fine, Adin.” Donte shook his head. “I took enough.
Your tea will be just what I need. Or maybe we can retire, yes?
I’ll draw your portrait while you sleep. It’s true that I haven’t let
myself rest lately.”
“If you’re certain…”
“I’m sure.” Donte looked back to the chessboard. “Who was
white?”
“Bran,” Adin told Donte. “That’s the tie-breaker; he’s a
strong player. Surprisingly good for someone with little formal
education.”
Some expression Adin couldn’t read crossed Donte’s features.
“You’ve grown very fond of him.”
“I have.” Adin grinned. “But you have nothing to worry
about, he told me he ‘fancies girls’.”
“What a relief,” Donte teased. He was still gazing at the
board. “You realize that if he recognizes his advantage here he’ll
have you in eight moves? Like this?” Donte reached out to touch
the queen’s bishop; the one Bran had advanced to take Adin’s
knight, but drew his hand away as though it burned. He stood up
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111
quickly, sliding his chair back with a scrape against the tile floor
that sounded thunderous in the quiet house.
“What was that?” Adin jumped up so fast he nearly knocked
over his teacup.
Donte glanced at the chess set and then back at Adin.
“Nothing,” he said crossly. “It’s nothing.”
“That was
not
nothing,” Adin pressed. “What happened just
now?”
“Just now—” Donte shook his head and resumed a casual