Vigil (18 page)

book at night. I don’t have to tell you how grateful he’d be for your knowledge

of Greek and Hebrew. I’d hate to think you’re the kind of person who just

quits when he’s not gotten his way. The work is here, and it’s important. And

if you’re half the student I think you are and half the man I think you are,

you’ll suck it up, get with the program, and do it. I don’t have to tell you there

would probably be a line of undergrads just waiting for the opportunities you

have. Don’t disappoint me over something stupid like love, Adin.”

Charles finally hung up.

Adin closed his eyes. He was at least as intelligent as Charles said.

Probably more so, because he saw exactly how they planned to use him for

their own gain. He saw how Shep enjoyed watching his lover with a young

man, the younger the better, and he saw how it made Charles feel like a god

to think he was molding Adin into his acolyte. He imagined they toasted

the beginning of each semester by choosing someone on whom to lavish their

attentions; a careful seduction with the most perfectly crafted blend of praise

for their chosen’s academic achievements and admiration of his physical form.

Adin wasn’t stupid. He’d been naïve, but he wasn’t clueless.

At some point Adin had believed he’d fallen in love. But love was for

fools and teenage girls. He wouldn’t make that mistake again.

Adin finished the rest of his wine and packed. He liked to ski, and his

Greek was very, very good.

118 Z.A. Maxfield

Adin didn’t know what woke him, but he rose, startled from

sleep and the deep dream that brought back a clear and painful

moment from his time at university. At first he looked for Bran,

wondering if the boy was playing tricks again, digging around

for memories and using Adin’s dreams to probe his history. He

turned to find Donte on the bed beside him, deeply unconscious.

Adin leaned over. His heart seemed to stop completely, then

rocketed around his chest erratically, frantic with fear.

“
Boaz
!” Adin ran to the door too afraid to worry about nudity.

“Boaz, I need you. It’s Donte!”

Footsteps thundered up the wooden stairs, even as Bran

emerged from his own room, rumpled and looking younger than

his fourteen years.

“What’s happening?” Bran asked as Boaz raced past him to

get into the bedroom.

Adin ignored Bran and followed Boaz, who moved to the bed

without hesitation, and peered down at Donte.

Donte was pale, even for a vampire. His eyes were closed and

profoundly shadowed. The faint dark smudges Adin had noticed

the day before now gave way to thick, etched circles which

hollowed out the area under Donte’s eyes and created trenches

under his high cheekbones. There wasn’t the faintest doubt that

something was very, very wrong. Even Donte’s wavy hair, once

so lustrous, so dark and rich, was now threaded with silver at the

temples.

Boaz’s eyes met Adin’s, and what they conveyed was nothing

less than terror.

“Boaz,” Adin ground out. “What the fuck is going on?
Help

him
!”

Boaz shook his head, his brow furrowed. For the first time

since Adin met him there was nothing but honesty in his words.

“Adin, I have no idea what to do.”

Adin shivered in the predawn air. Boaz and Bran seemed to

be watching him carefully as he shoved their belongings into the

car.

“I’m trying to understand, Boaz,” he hissed. “I thought you

knew about these things. What’s happening to Donte?”

“I really can’t say.” Boaz pressed his hands together until the

knuckles were white. Adin thought that was to keep from doing

anything as melodramatic as wringing them.

“Can’t or won’t?” Bran asked. He was concerned for Donte,

and Adin found it touching. Together, they’d packed and readied

Donte to move him back to Paris where there was a chance they

could find out what was happening to him.

“Can’t.”

“Who would know? Who can tell us how to help him?” Adin

reined in his temper and his frustration, but his patience was a

thin thread, ready to snap.

“I put in a call to Santos. He’s checking into things. He said

he’ll help if he can.”

“I’m sure he’ll just jump right on that!” Adin shouted. “How

could you call Santos? You’ve effectively notified Donte’s oldest

enemy that he’s in a weakened state.” He turned and went back

into the house.

Boaz followed him. “Santos isn’t what you think, Adin. At the

very least he’s not as…black and white as you believe. He’s not

just going to send someone—”

“But he could. And that’s why we’re not going to sit here

waiting for him to do it. Bran, get dressed quickly so you can help

me and Boaz get Donte to the car.”

Bran spoke, “Won’t the daylight burn him?”

Adin ran to the stairs and took them two at a time. “The

120 Z.A. Maxfield

windows in the car are tinted. We can cover him until he’s inside.

If we leave early enough it will still be overcast.”

Boaz argued, “Adin I promise you, you don’t need to move

him. We can figure this out. We—”

Adin entered the bedroom and found Donte with his eyes

open, struggling to sit up.

“Donte!” Adin ran to help him. “
Here
. I’m right here, let me

help you. We’re going to go back to Paris, all right?”

Donte caught Adin’s hand and forced him to sit. “Stop, caro.”

“Donte…”

“Sit with me for a moment, will you? You wake the dead with

all your shouting. What a fishwife you’ve become.”

“I’m sorry.” Adin took Donte’s hand in both of his and

pressed it to his heart. “I’m so scared, lover.”

“I can tell…your heart races.” Donte sighed and reached

out to pull Adin into a tender hug. Adin helped him to a sitting

position, then together, they stood. “I must look dreadful for you

to react like this. Before you become completely unhinged, let

me get my bearings.” He walked slowly toward the mirror on the

wall, but not without grimacing as though he were in pain.

Donte gazed at his image for a moment without visibly

reacting while he inspected his face. He turned his head, peering

at one side and then the other. Even though he seemed mildly

shocked, he grinned. Adin saw nothing, regretting that for him

Donte’s mirror image would only appear in his peripheral vision

as a trick of the light.

“What?” Adin asked.

“So this is what I would look like were I to grow old. I still

have my hair.”

“Yes,” Adin rolled his eyes. “It’s rather dashing really. I hope

I keep mine.”

Donte turned to him, the light of old argument in his eyes.

“You know very well that I can see to it that you do.”

Vigil
121

“In your current state, you couldn’t blow out a birthday

candle.” Adin impulsively cupped Donte’s face in his hands and

kissed him. “Let’s get you sorted before we argue again, please?”

Donte’s eyes softened, all the love, all the exasperation there

for Adin to see. “Yes, caro. Let’s. It hardly makes sense to ask for

forever if I’m going to shuffle off my mortal—”

“Adin,” Bran called from the stairway. “We have everything

packed and ready, but we also have company.”

“What the hell?” Adin strode to the window and saw a second

dark sedan parked next to Boaz’s car.
Tinted windows
. The driver’s

side door opened and a man emerged. He wore a dark hat and

gloves and carried an umbrella. “Friends of yours?” he asked

when Donte came to stand at his side.

Donte held his hand up to block the light. “Not that I know

of.”

Adin pushed him back gently, away from the window, surprised

that Donte yielded, and then dismayed, because he probably

couldn’t resist. He watched as their guest raised an umbrella over

his head beneath the overcast sky, even though it wasn’t raining.

A momentary glimpse of his face sparked recognition. “That

looks like one of Santos’s men.
Fuck
. Does he clone them? Why

do they all look alike?”

“He likes to keep it in the family,” Boaz spoke from the door.

“They’re related.”

“You brought them here!” Adin turned to Donte. “How

could they get here so fast?”

“I suspect they’ve been watching Donte from a safe but still

adequate distance. Just as Donte has someone watching them.”

Boaz looked to Donte. “Am I right?”

“Yes,” Donte agreed.

“Vampire games,” Adin hissed. “Do you keep weapons here?”

“Before you arm yourself—”

“Shut up and figure out a way to keep Donte safe or I’m

going to research the worst possible way to kill an imp. I should

122 Z.A. Maxfield

warn you, I’m very good in the library.”

“I can attest to that,” Donte said drily, then caught Adin’s

arm. “However, there’s no need to arm until we see what they

want, caro. They can’t come inside unless we invite them.”

“You stay here then,” Adin ordered. “Bran?”

“Here,” Bran called from the stairs.

Adin walked to the bedroom door. “We won’t invite them in.

You and Donte stay inside no matter what. Boaz, come with me.”

“All right.” Bran entered the bedroom and went to the window.

Donte spoke as Adin turned to leave. “Adin, I quite like

this side of you. Very nouveau-martial. Remind me to tell you

sometime why your concern for my safety is so ironic.”

“Shut up.” Adin walked to the stairs. “Do you keep a sword

here, Donte?”

“Why? So that you might lop my head off with it by accident?

Sorry, no.”

“At this point if I lopped off your head it wouldn’t be

accidental.” Adin shot a look back up as he descended. “Stay

inside.”

Boaz stood in front of the kitchen door with his arms folded.

“We’re going to listen to what he has to say.”

“All right.” Adin stopped before him. “Do you know why he’s

here?”

Boaz turned to open the door to step out onto the patio.

“Unless I’m mistaken there’s more than one person visiting.” Adin

followed behind, stepping on the cobblestones in Boaz’s wake as

he made his way around to the front of the house. Coming from

the side offered ample opportunity to assess their guests. The

man they’d seen from the window, the driver, now opened the

rear door to assist another passenger from the vehicle. Someone

so extraordinary that Boaz—and even Adin—stopped where he

stood to watch as she emerged.

No taller than four and a half feet, and unutterably ancient,

Vigil
123

the newcomer was dressed all in black, from the long, lacy shawl

at the top or her sleek silver hair to the tips of her narrow, booted

feet. She was reed thin and gave an imperious wave as her driver

held the umbrella over her head. After her, a man emerged, not

a great deal taller but younger than she by half. He wore a fine

vintage suit and a bowler hat. They both had deep-set brown

eyes that seemed to broadcast merriment—and maybe a little

cruelty—at Adin’s discomfort.

Adin stared, dazzled by them. Their clothes were fine, their

features perfect and pale. They had the odd appearance of

porcelain dolls made for a funeral vignette. They strolled up the

pathway toward Adin and Boaz, trailed after by their driver, who

slipped and slid along the damp stones to keep up.

“Okay,” Adin murmured to Boaz. “Not what I expected.”

Boaz was silent until the odd party made their way to him.

“Boaz.” The woman inclined her head regally. “I understand

someone here requires assistance?”

Adin whispered, “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

The man in the bowler hat donned a pair of rimless glasses

that were tinted an inky black. “You must be the
Adin
we’ve

heard so very much about.”

Adin rippled with indignation. The man said his name like

“odd un,” and it appeared to be entirely on purpose.

“Donte…” The tiny woman raised her voice as though she

intended to be heard inside the house. “I know you have better

manners than this.”

Adin watched the man who held the umbrella, unmistakably

one of Santos’s men.

“You came here on Santos’s orders?” Adin asked.

He nodded. “At his request.”

“To do what, specifically?” Adin looked at each of the three in

turn. Boaz had remained oddly silent and respectful. He neither

looked directly at the couple, nor ignored them. He seemed to

keep his eyes down and held his hands at his side as if he would

124 Z.A. Maxfield

be expected at a moment’s notice to fetch a bag for them or open

a bottle of wine. His demeanor very clearly said,
servant
. It was so

unlike his behavior with Adin or even Donte that Adin wondered

about it. With them, he
played
the servant although everyone

seemed to understand that he was nothing of the kind. With