Deep Deliverance: The Deep Series, Book 3 (10 page)

Chap
ter Fourteen

Adin dimly heard the pounding on the door. Like the distant sound of a woodpecker in some dense forest, he barely paid it any mind. He was still falling, falling through the void. The blackness enveloped him. It cocooned him.

And then someone slapped his cheek, and he forced his eyes open.

“There you are.” Sean drew his hand back to give him another slap.

Adin pulled away. “Hey, do you mind?”

“You were supposed to return to the Gathering.” Santos spoke from somewhere behind Sean. Adin blinked him into view, near the door.

“Give me a minute, will you?” Adin scrubbed his face with both hands and tried to bring himself back to the present moment. “My head is fuzzy.”

“Ellen was none too pleased with you.”

“I’m sure Ellen can live with the disappointment.” Why had he come back to the room? Oh, yes. To call Donte. “I came back to—”

“A word of advice, Adin. Don’t make a habit of insulting the elders.”

“I didn’t mean to insult anyone. I fed, and then I felt strange. So I came back to my room.”

“Strange how?”

“
Strange.
I don’t know. I can’t explain it.” When he’d fed from the man at the airport, he’d been invigorated. But the night before, he’d felt something different and more profound. And he hadn’t returned to the party because he’d wanted to understand it. He’d wanted to hear Donte’s voice and share his thoughts. He’d felt a sad, private kind of grief he couldn’t explain.

“Adin. You cannot be a special snowflake today.” Santos rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands as though Adin was giving him a headache. Adin probably
was
giving him a headache. “There are rules within Kind. There are protocols. When a vampire travels, especially an unknown, he must present himself to the elders.”

“After I fed, I felt odd, so I returned to the room. Surely—”

“Santos,” Sean interrupted their argument. “It’s almost time.”

“Oh, Christ. Is that really the time?” Adin checked his watches.
Three o’clock?
A brief glance around showed bars of bright gold from the afternoon sun stretched across the floor.

“Yes, and you’re to meet with Ellen downstairs in the same rooms.”

“I can’t.” He bounded out of bed and dug jeans and a sweater out of his pilot case. “I have to attend the reading of Harwiche’s will.”

“No way you’re going to that,” Sean said. “If you ask me, we’re well rid of Harwiche.”

“But he made me a bequest of some sort.” Adin hopped into his jeans, and then pulled his sweater on over his head.

“He what?” As Santos said this, the air in the room practically shuddered. Both Adin and Sean turned their attention to him. The fine hairs on the back of Adin’s neck rose.

“That’s a neat trick. All you need is an organist to play a musical bridge.
Dun dun DUUUUUN…
”

“I ask you again. What did you mean when you said Harwiche made you a bequest?”

“Exactly what I said. His children told me he left me something in his will. I’m to attend the reading—” Adin checked his watches again, “—and I’m already late. I was supposed to meet Tuan in the lobby fifteen minutes ago.”

As if his words were some kind of cue, another knock sounded at the door.

“That’s probably him now.” Adin jammed his feet into a pair of Vans before opening it. At Tuan’s unhappy expression, he said, “I’m late, I know.”

“Is that what you’re wearing?” As usual, Tuan was dressed in an immaculate suit, charcoal gray this time, with a gray shirt and a tone-on-tone paisley tie.

“It can’t be helped. My suit’s a mess because I slept in the trousers. I didn’t bring a second.”

“All right then. Just come, I’ve called for my car.”

“Just a minute.” Santos held up his hand. “Ellen Wentzler is waiting downstairs. I can’t tell you what a bother it will be if you stand her up for a third time.”

“Adin’s coming with me.” Tuan took Adin by the forearm and literally pulled him from the room. “Tell Wentzler I will take responsibility.”

“All right, I will explain your absence to Ms. Wentzler.” Santos looked like he didn’t look forward to that.

“Thank you.”

At the elevator, they had to wait. The plush carpeting absorbed Tuan’s footsteps as he prowled impatiently from door to door. Adin noticed the tension in his shoulders, the wariness with which he positioned himself with his back to the corner, how lightly balanced he stayed on his feet. As long as he’d known Tuan, he’d observed these little habits, which made perfect sense given the man’s—
the shifter’s
—job. More pieces began to fall into place. Tuan’s rescue of Adin from Santos that first time, Tuan’s wariness around Donte and Santos…

“Shifters and vampires aren’t one big happy paranormal family, are they?”

“Not exactly.” Tuan flicked a glance Santos’s way. “I told you shifters hunt vampires for sport?”

“I remember.” Adin followed his gaze.

“That’s because back in the good old days, vampires owned shifters like slaves. They bred us and forced us to fight one another—often to the death.”

“For the record—” Santos gave a diffident lift of his shoulder, “—I enjoy blood sports but I never personally owned shifters. After my father’s disgrace and subsequent death, I had other things to worry about besides entertainment.”

“But now you know why I enjoy flashing my badge.”

“I can imagine.” Santos eyed the elevator doors. “It’s inevitable when the lesser classes get a tiny bit of power. They always flex it with great relish.”

Adin’s mouth dropped open. “The lesser classes?”

“Vampires are elitist trash.” Tuan spoke through gritted teeth.

“And shifters are little more than beasts.” Santos smiled politely.

“Wait—” Leave it to Santos to make a crack like that, in front of a shifter who was also law enforcement. Adin gave Santos a shove. “Knock it off. He probably doesn’t know you’re kidding.”

“Who says I’m kidding?”

“Santos,” Adin warned.

“Oh, all right.” Santos turned to Tuan. “I apologize for baiting you. Sometimes I enjoy stirring things up just to make trouble. Especially when I’m put in the awkward position of ignoring Ellen Wentzler’s repeated and slightly shrill requests.”

“I have firsthand experience with the troublemaking thing,” Adin explained. “He’s not actually the asshat he normally pretends to be.”

“Hm.” By the time the elevator arrived, Tuan looked slightly mollified. “While I respect your adherence to protocol, Santos, I’m sorry, but I have to escort Adin to the Harwiche estate for the reading of the will and we’re late. Please convey my apologies to Ms. Wentzler.”

“As I said—” Santos sketched a slight bow, and the three of them got on the elevator, “—I will explain things to the elders.”

“If you like, you may text me if she reschedules.” Tuan pressed the Lobby button. “I’ve been tasked with unofficially escorting Dr. Tredeger anywhere he goes while he’s in town.”

“You what?” Adin asked. “Why?”

“Wait.” Sean exchanged a surprised glance with Santos. “There’s no need for that. He’s got us to look out for him.”

“Why would you be tasked with this?” Santos asked.

“My superiors are concerned by Harwiche’s interest. Harwiche collected a number of arcane books and cursed objects, some of which, in the wrong hands—”

“Shite.”
Sean’s urgent tone and the way he and the other two men were frowning worried Adin.

“What does he mean?” Adin asked.

“Harwiche might be trying to get in a last dig,” Santos said.

“Harwiche is dead,” Adin reminded all of them. The elevator came to a halt on the ground floor and they stepped out. Almost at once, Adin noticed the slim, elegant figure of Ellen Wentzler bearing down on them from across the massive lobby. “Oh, here she comes.”

“There’s no time for her now.” Santos and Tuan herded him to the nearest exit. “If Tuan’s superiors are concerned enough to assign him to you, we’re not letting you go to the Harwiche estate alone.”

“That’s right.” Sean fell into step behind them. “Donte would never forgive us if something happened to your fair person on our watch.”

“Hey. Wait a minute.” Adin tried to break free, but the three of them crowded him enough to make it impossible. “Weren’t you just telling me how angry she’d be if I blew her off a third time?”

“Can’t be helped.” Sean shoved him through the door, glancing back just once to see if she was gaining on them. “Plus, it’s fun to piss them off, and you can get away with it if you have
a compelling reason. Which we have.”

“
Sean
.” Santos ushered him and Tuan though the door. Wow, thought Adin. Peace in our time…

“Well, it is.” Sean’s light laughter was almost contagious.

Santos opened the rear door of Tuan’s black SUV and Sean pushed Adin inside. The rest got in and soon they were underway.

“So we ran out of there like a boy band with groupies hot on our tails just to annoy a member of the Vampire Welcoming Committee? Have I got that right?”

Santos and Sean exchanged another glance, this one slightly guilty.

“Maybe,” said Santos.

“A little.” Sean shrugged.

“I never mind messing with them.” Tuan’s tone held a measure of pride. “Those vampire hierarchy bastards totally think their corpses don’t stink.”

“We stink?” Adin asked, nonplussed. “Really?”

“When I’m shifted you smell off. So yeah…technically speaking, you stink.”

“Great. Well. I guess that’s not such a bad thing if it keeps me from getting eaten.”

“I fell for a shifter once,” said Sean.

“You did?” Santos asked. “What happened?”

“Oh here we go,” Tuan muttered. “If you even think about making a pussy joke, I’ll stop this car and bite directly through your head.”

“There’s no joke. It didn’t work out.”

Tuan turned to Adin. “In the vampire community, shifter jokes are tasteless ethnic humor.”

“I like shifters.” Sean relaxed back in his seat with a sigh. “I’ve got loads of shifter friends.”

Santos glanced out the window. “I’ve had my run-ins with the shifter community, but we’ve made our peace. Right, Tuan?”

“Unless you step out of line again, you have nothing to fear from me.”

“I’m not worried.” Santos’s lips curled into a little half smile.

“Paranormal pissing contest. I guess I’m getting an education on this trip.” Adin paid little attention to the road, except to note that they were heading toward Burbank.

“That was our intention. Do you see now how much you were missing, hiding out in the mountains like you were, with only Donte to explain things? He tries to avoid Kind altogether.”

“I’d probably be better off following his lead, if it means not being embroiled in one of Ned’s schemes.” Adin felt his pocket to make sure he had his phone on him. “I miss Donte.”

Sean patted his hand. “I’m sure he misses you too.”

“Last time I called, Boaz answered the phone.”

Santos clucked his tongue. “That little shit. I thought Donte would make him take the truth to his grave.”

“You knew about Boaz.” Adin didn’t bother framing that as a question. “Has he been with you all this time?

“What? No. He wasn’t with me. But he wasn’t the arch-villain he pretended to be either.” Santos smiled fondly. “I pieced things together later, but until now, I didn’t know for certain.”

“Well he’s back by Donte’s side, after all.”

“And this bothers you?” Santos asked. “I’ll admit I’d expect more loyalty from my—what do you call him? Lover? Partner?—than that.”

Adin closed his mouth before he could issue a sharp reply.

“At any rate, Boaz will be as loyal to you as he is to Donte, if Donte makes it clear that’s his wish.”

“And we all know Donte makes his wishes very clear,” Adin said bitterly.

“Yes.” Santos sighed. “We all know he does exactly that.”

The car left the freeway and headed into the hills on the northeastern edge of Griffith Park. “Harwiche lived up here?”

“The Harwiche family estate backs up onto the park itself. It’s one of several large properties in the Spanish colonial style along a ridge overlooking the Hollywood area off Los Feliz,” said Tuan.

“Harwiche’s grandfather came to California to make movies, but instead, he invested in oil and land,” said Santos.

Tuan nodded. “Harwiche lost the use of the house to his ex in the divorce, but of course, the property is all tied up in a trust. She only gets to live there during her lifetime, and when she dies, the estate goes to Harwiche’s heirs.”

“Elizabeth and Barrett?”

“Presumably. I don’t believe he has other children,” said Tuan.

“How could there be
any
?” Adin couldn’t help the shudder that went through him at the thought of having sex with Ned Harwiche III. “Why would any woman
marry
Harwiche?”

“When you meet Sabine, you will understand.”

“Really?”

“Let me rephrase,” Tuan said. “After you’ve seen the property, and you’ve met Sabine, you’ll understand.”

Chapter Fifteen

The Harwiche house wasn’t as large as Adin expected. In fact, it was a very wide but shallow three stories, built into the side of a hill. But what the house lacked in size, it more than made up for in old Hollywood glamour. It had a good-sized marble foyer with a round table in the center, filled with vibrantly hued roses and gladiolas that almost mocked the funeral flowers from the day before. Beyond that, there was the living room, which had been done up in cinnabar and dark wood with brocade couches and leather club chairs. At one end, there was a fireplace large enough to roast half a pig. The dining room had a vast mahogany table, with a mirror-like sheen and twelve chairs.

Adin had barely enough time to take this in when he was pounced on, both literally and figuratively, by Barrett Harwiche.

“Special Agent Nguyen. I’m so glad you came. And you’ve brought Adin.” Barrett’s nose twitched. “And some old friends?”

“Er…” Now that Adin knew he smelled “off” to shifters, he felt strange about it. He wished Tuan had never mentioned that particular detail. Now he’d never know whether Barrett simply didn’t like Santos and Sean, or whether he was reacting to their vampire smell, which Adin shared.

“Cristobel Santos.” Santos held out his hand. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

Barrett took his hand and shook it solemnly. “Thank you.”

“Sean Houlihan.”

They nodded to one another. “Welcome. The rest of the guests have assembled in the library. We’ve packed in as many seats as possible, but I’m afraid we’ve not got room for everyone.”

At this, he looked directly at Sean, who gave him a bright smile. “I can make myself at home almost anywhere. Never fear.”

Barrett took Adin’s hand and led him deeper into the house. It was spotless and well decorated, but the dated furnishings and aging wallpaper gave away the fact that while she may have gotten the house to live in, Sabine Harwiche hadn’t received a great deal of money for upkeep. Nevertheless, the craftsmanship of the building was amazing and every window opened onto an outdoor living space with its own expansive view of the city or the mountains in the distance. Adin had seen the entrance to the park less than a block away. The home’s location was spectacular.

“Adin!” Elizabeth greeted him when he entered the library, but his senses had already filled with something he wasn’t expecting at all.

Across the room, not twenty feet away, Donte leaned negligently against the fireplace mantle, hands in the pockets of a perfectly tailored suit.

“One minute.” Adin ignored Elizabeth’s outstretched hand and negotiated a pathway around all the chairs, hugging the wall to get to his lover.

When their eyes first met, Adin felt nothing but the tingling, electric excitement of seeing Donte again. He’d missed him. Their reconnection was thrilling. But after that brief, happy moment, he started to wonder why Donte would be there.
How
could he be there, when he was supposed to be in Colorado?

Adin came up with the only reason he could think of—lack of trust.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

“Shh.”
Donte led him out a set of French doors onto the balcony, where they could talk privately. “I’m sorry for the dramatic surprise. Are you terribly angry?”

“I just don’t understand. Don’t you trust me to be on my own for three goddamn days?”

“Of course I do. If you’ll simply listen—”

“Christ. I had Santos and Sean with me, and now I’ve got Tuan. What’s next? Are you going to call out the National Guard?”

“Before you completely lose your mind, you should probably know Boaz is here as well.”

“Of course he is.” Adin closed his eyes and began counting.
One… Two… Three…
By the time he got to ten he was able to blow out a slow, steady breath. He opened his eyes.
“I cannot believe you didn’t trust me on my own for three days.”

“As pleased as I am to see you, I came—” Donte pulled a cream-colored envelope from his pocket and handed it over, “—because of this. I’d planned to ignore it completely, but then you said you were coming. I miss you, caro. I wanted to see you.”

The envelope was addressed to M. Donte Fedeltà. Adin turned it over in his hands. He’d just started to open it, when Donte spoke again.

“It’s simply an invitation to attend the reading of Harwiche’s will. It came by special messenger yesterday.”

“Did I get one?”

“You did not.”

Adin contemplated that. “That seems odd, doesn’t it?”

“It does indeed.” Donte’s expression was unreadable. “I assumed he’d made me a bequest because I helped him during his home invasion. I was going to send a note of thanks and decline whatever it was, but then he involved you. Can you blame me for being cautious?”

“Shit.” Adin lowered his voice. “This positively stinks, doesn’t it? If for no other reason than it’s not natural for shifters to host vampires like this. Am I wrong about that?”

“You’re not wrong.” Donte leaned into his space and suddenly Donte’s scent—that enticing blend of leather-bound books and bay leaves and cardamom—filled him. His mouth watered. He was barely a breath away, and he could almost feel Donte’s hands on him.

“Sometimes I hate you.”

“Hate me later. We need to ascertain why we’re here.”

“Harwiche’s family issued these invitations. Surely they aren’t keeping enmity alive in his stead. I may have outbid him at an auction or two, but I’ve never done anything to them.”

“You forget Bran.”

“It was his machinations that caused me to find Bran first. Not something I did. He only had himself to blame. Anyway, what does Sabine care about that? I should think she’d be glad he’s dead. Her children will no doubt be his heirs?”

“Either way…I don’t like this.”

“I don’t either.” Donte’s hand warmed the small of his back. “But we’re here now. That’s our hostess.”

Adin followed Donte’s gaze to the patio below them and discovered where Elizabeth and Barrett’s good looks came from. “Dear God.”

Sabine Harwiche
defied
description.

She had to have been an incomparable beauty in her youth. While she was no longer young, and her looks would be more precisely called exotically mature now, Adin could still see what had drawn Ned Harwiche to her. She was tall for a woman. Lean and strong. She had broad shoulders and wide hips, and when she walked… Was it only his imagination? Or did she look as if she was waving a long, sinuous tail behind her? Like her children’s, her hair was streaked with gold and sable. Her eyes were the exact color of Donte’s Baltic amber cufflinks. Her face, with its high cheekbones, broad flat nose, and tip-tilted eyes, looked like the result of an extraordinary plastic surgery. Or they might have been the natural features of an aging tiger shifter.

Either way, she was unique. One-of-a-kind, a fact that probably made her valuable.

And Harwiche liked to collect.

As Sabine walked the crowd parted around her. A nervous human Adin thought might be Harwiche’s attorney practically groveled before her. He shook her hand, failing to let it go for several seconds too long. Irritation flashed in her eyes like lightning—there and gone so quickly Adin wondered if he’d actually seen it. They entered the house together, and Donte turned back to him.

“She reminds me of my former wife.”

“Really?”

“Renata was an equally beautiful, yet ruthless woman. Being around women like her still makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up.”

When she arrived in the drawing room, she scanned the crowd. She murmured polite hellos to those standing closest as she made across the room. When she stood before Adin, she tucked a stray curl behind her ear.

“Are you Dr. Tredeger?” She held her hand out to him, short blunt fingers together, pawlike.

Adin took her hand and shook it. “Pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Harwiche.”

“Mrs. Harwiche was Ned’s mother, may she rest in many, many pieces. Please. Call me Sabine.” Her eyes traveled from his feet to his face. “My daughter told me how handsome you were, but I had no idea.”

“I told you.” Elizabeth appeared as his elbow. “Isn’t he adorable?”

“And Donte Fedeltà? Is he here with you?”

“He’s—” Adin turned, but Donte was no longer standing behind him. He made a quick survey of the room and found Donte with Tuan. “He’s over there, with Special Agent Nguyen.”

“I see. Well. The lawyer is getting ready to read the will. Would you care to take a seat?”

Adin realized he was expected to sit with the family again, so he sent an apologetic glance Donte’s way. Donte draped himself unselfconsciously over a chair by the wall while Elizabeth towed Adin to the front row.

The reading of the will, a formal custom Adin didn’t even know people practiced outside of Agatha Christie novels, was pretty straightforward, as far as he could tell. The bulk of the estate was held in trust for Elizabeth and Barrett. Sabine had the use of the house during her lifetime, along with a small allowance. There were bequests for others, family, friends, staff.

At the end of a long and boring list of minor assets and their intended distribution, the lawyer read Adin’s full name, along with the tongue-in-cheek description, “My professional rival, a true legend in his own mind,” and Donte’s full Christian given name, “Nicolo Sciarello Di Pietro.” Apparently whatever the bequest was, it was something they were to share between them. Adin only wanted to get whatever information they could and leave before he died of boredom or disappeared behind a revolving bookcase—he wanted to leave before he got lost in Harwiche’s weird house and his weirder family forever.

“…For Adin Tredeger, who has been a true pain in my ass.” At that, the lawyer fumbled through a sheaf of papers in his briefcase, finally unearthing a legal-sized box wrapped in brown paper and tied with string. “Uh… This is it.”

He walked the few feet between them and handed it over.

“Is it ticking?” Adin wasn’t entirely kidding. There was no way he was going to shake the package, whatever it was. He wouldn’t have been surprised to find a bomb, some kind of poison, or a cobra inside it.

Nothing hissed, anyway. Did cobras hiss?

The lawyer went back to his podium and said, “This concludes the reading of the will. If there are any further questions, Mrs. Harwiche has made the parlor available and I’ll be in there for the next two hours to be of assistance.

“Two hours of lawyer time,” Sabine whispered. “Isn’t that what the wise men brought the infant Jesus?”

Adin smothered a smile. He hadn’t been predisposed to like Sabine, but he was finding her to be interesting.

Barrett leaned around Elizabeth. “We’re going upstairs. Adin, do you want to join us?”

“I’m afraid I need to confer with Donte about whatever this is.”

There went that lip again. “But I want you to come. I have a set of Beardsley prints I bought last year in Prague and I want to see what you think about them before I put them up on eBay.”

Elizabeth elbowed him. “Did you seriously just invite Adin Tredeger upstairs to view your etchings?”

Barrett’s cheeks caught fire. “Shut up.”

“You’re so mature.”

“At least I know I’m scratching at the right tree.”

“Whoa…” Adin stood quickly. “I think Tuan needs me for…something.”

He stepped over both Elizabeth and Barrett’s legs. Barrett reached out unnecessarily and steadied him by framing his hips with both hands.

Behind them, a low rumble resolved into a sound of warning from Donte’s throat.

Elizabeth cuffed the back of Barrett’s head. “Knock it off. Adin’s vampire boyfriend is right over there. ”

“I was just making sure he didn’t fall.”

“You’re such a liar.”

“No, you are.”

Adin couldn’t stumble away fast enough.

“Getting your fill of the animal kingdom?” Donte asked when Adin finally reached his side.

“I can’t decide whether I’m fascinated or horrified.”

“You can call it horrified fascination and split the difference.” Donte held his hands out. “So. What do you suppose is in this package Ned Harwiche left us?”

“I don’t know. It’s light.”

“Is it ticking?”

“That’s exactly what I said.” Adin savored that sweet, sentimental moment of connection before he recalled why he’d left Colorado.

Goddamn Donte. He was nothing but charm when he wanted to be. Adin sighed as he glanced down at the package in his hands.

“We should open that in private.” Tuan spoke from behind them. Adin turned to find Santos and Sean there as well. “Just in case there’s something in it we’ll need to neutralize.”

“Are you really worried it’s something bad?” Adin asked. “I mean, the last thing we got from Harwiche was Bran. And he turned out—”

“To be vampire Kryptonite,” Sean muttered darkly.

“That’s a bit glass half empty,” said Tuan.

“This is Harwiche we’re talking about.” Santos nodded toward the package. “In his case, the glass is just as likely to be half empty and filled with poison.”

“I need somewhere to open this.”

“
In here.” Barrett led them to the kitchen, where a table was already set for breakfast the following day. There was a maid, working quietly in the corner, arranging cooked shrimp around the lips of several martini glasses “Open it in here. I’m dying to see what Father left for you.”

“Cat, meet curiosity.” Sean waited patiently while Adin moved one of the plates aside to set the package down. He picked up a knife to cut the string. All of them held their breath.

Which wasn’t exactly necessary because most of them didn’t even need to breathe.

“Stop acting as if this were a bomb and open it.” The normal fussy furrow in Donte’s brow furrowed. “He’s probably left us a photograph of a horse’s ass, wh
ich is what we’re going to feel like if we give this too much energy.”

“It’s for certain none of us are getting any younger while we wait,” said Santos.

“On a lighter note, we’re not getting any older either,” said Sean.

“Just pretend it’s Christmas.” Elizabeth bounced on the balls of her feet. “Tear the paper. Give it to me. I’ll do it, let me.”

“It’s best we let Adin do it.” Tuan pulled her back a foot. “Not that I think—”