Deep Deliverance: The Deep Series, Book 3 (9 page)

“What do you suppose Harwiche had in mind when he made me part of his will?”

“I have no idea. But whatever it was, I wouldn’t take Elizabeth and Barrett lightly if I were you. Barrett can be reckless, but Elizabeth is ruthless.”

“Is that why you stopped me from giving her my number? I wasn’t about to do that, anyway. ”

“Good. Some kind of survival instinct is starting to kick in. It’s about time.”

“What are you talking about?”

“What do you think?” Tuan gave a laugh. “It’s like watching a toddler with you. If there’s an outlet, you’re going to stick something in it, if there’s a choking hazard—”

“Stop it,” Adin snapped.

“You like the rush of making trouble, Adin. Admit it. When you met Donte it was like playing with superheated plasma—awesome, until you got burned.”

Adin’s face heated at that—nothing to do with the metaphor. Tuan was right. Adin liked being a little bit afraid. He wasn’t ready to admit that out loud, as if he was in some weird kind of AA. Adrenaline Anonymous.

Hello, my name is Adin, and I’m an adrenaline junkie.

Hello, Adin.

“So what’s this Harwiche will thing all about?” Adin changed the subject back to Harwiche. “You think he planned some kind of vengeance from beyond the grave?”

“I doubt that.”

“The twins are up to something though. Don’t you think?”

“Nope. I think they found you attractive. They like to share their lovers.” Tuan grinned. “Ever seen big cats fight over a kill?”

Adin had no trouble picturing that, and he didn’t like what he saw. “This just keeps getting better and better.”

“Maybe they’ll give up the hunt once they realize you’re with Donte.”

“Jesus fuck.” Adin’s bitterness collided with his empty belly. “I wish I’d stayed home.”

Chapter Twelve

Boaz answered the phone before Donte could get to it. He winced. This wasn’t going to go well at all.

“Is Donte available?” Adin’s tone was furious. “Or have you graduated from butler to priest in the great man’s temple? Do I need to make some kind of offering to get you to put me through?”

“He’s right here, Dr. Tredeger.” Boaz remained calm in the face of Adin’s ire, which of course had the effect of making things worse. “I’ll get him for you.”

Donte mouthed, “Stop,” before taking the phone from him.

“How kind of you.” Sarcasm melted from Adin’s words.

“Adin, don’t be angry,” Donte placated. “There’s no point in subterfuge now that you know the truth.”

“I’m disgusted with the both of you, but I have other news. I’ve just come from Harwiche’s funeral.”

“Was it sufficiently pompous?” Donte motioned for Boaz to stay, and he left the phone on speaker mode. They had no secrets.

“Unimaginably so. Santos and Sean abandoned me as soon as we got there.”

“Is that so?” Donte relaxed back in his chair. “What could Santos be playing at?”

“Who knows?” Adin sighed audibly. “Who cares? I’m simply tired of being a pawn on your board.”

“You should consider yourself the queen on my board. You may go anywhere you like. Do anything you choose. You’re the most powerful player in the game.”

“And Boaz? I assume he’s listening in. What is he?”

Boaz flinched, exposed like that. Donte’s gaze softened. “Boaz is my knight. He moves in unexpected ways, but we can depend on him to keep us safe.”

“He’s your henchman.” Adin huffed a bitter laugh. “How come you get to be king?”

“I’m forced by age and history to move one cautious square at a time. You’re the king of my heart. Nothing changes that.”

There was a slight pause before Adin spoke again. “You should know Harwiche made me some sort of bequest. His will is being read tomorrow.”

Donte narrowed his eyes. “That’s odd.”

“Harwiche had children. Did you know that? They’re tiger shifters. I think they made a play for my ass. What kind of self-respecting tiger shifter would marry Harwiche?”

“There is no accounting for taste.”

“Clearly.”

“Tuan thinks Harwiche’s bequest is nothing.”

“Che cazzo. I still don’t like it.” Donte’s gaze found Boaz, who nodded his understanding. Boaz would ferret out the secrets Harwiche had been keeping before his death. If he was a threat to Adin—to them—Boaz would learn of it.

“Since he’s currently having a nice long dirt nap, he can’t be up to much.”

“With this bequest, he reaches for you from beyond the grave.”

“It’s probably far less interesting than that. He was awfully pissed at me for rescuing Bran. Since you’ve decided I must sink or swim on my own it’s not your problem, is it?”

“What are you talking about?” Donte asked. “You
wanted
to go.”

“I did not want to go. I would give anything to be there with you now.”

“Adin. You were furious with me.”

“Oh, never mind.” Adin huffed a sigh. “It’s been a long confusing day, and tonight they want me to attend a gathering of Kind. Apparently there’ll be human snacks. I won’t go
—
”

“Stop,” Donte admonished. “You’re acting like a child.”

“I hate this.” Something went
thud
on Adin’s end of the conversation—as if he’d tossed a book against the wall. “Being like this is disorienting. The world is full of ridiculous rules, and the one person I trusted to tell me the truth has lied to me from the beginning.”

“I’ve been truthful about everything that’s important to you.”

“Finally, yes.” Silence stretched between them. “Never mind.”

“Do you know how much I miss you?” Donte changed his tactic.

“Dammit, Donte.” Adin sighed again.

Donte jerked his chin toward the door and Boaz left the room. “I miss you more than rich, briny olives and walking in the garden with the sun warming my shoulders.”

“Maybe you should tell me all about it.”

Chapter Thirteen

Adin cursed after he hung up the phone.

Boaz was right back in his place at Donte’s side. How was he supposed to feel about that? Should he be angry that Donte had welcomed Boaz back with open arms? Should he be bitter because their betrayal had included lying and secrets? Or should he be embarrassed that it even mattered to him in the face of grim reality?

He’d be dead if it weren’t for Boaz’s efforts on his behalf.

What was done was done and he had to accept it. He
must
, unless he wanted to spend eternity in bitterness and suspicion.

Boaz had been following orders, applying the logic of his kind to a problem of human ethics. Donte hadn’t wanted to lose Adin, and Boaz saw to it that he didn’t.

And of course, as Tuan had pointed out, Adin had
liked
playing with fire.

The results had been inevitable.

Now Adin sat at the window, watching the sun set. It was nearly night. The city sparkled beneath him, multicolored. Gemlike. Signals winked, controlling the ebb and flow of traffic, and all the cars clogging the streets had donned their diamond, amber, and ruby lights.

He either had to accept things as they were or…

There was no “or”.

He was undead. He had an eternity to regret it, but those regrets would pile up, one upon the other, and keep him from experiencing anything good in the here and now.

He had Donte.

He had Edward and Tuan.

He still had his sister—if only he had the balls to tell her what happened to him. She’d be practical and understanding. She’d love him, despite his new reality. He knew that, just as he knew his predicament would be equally fascinating to the scientist in her.

He had Bran, and even though they couldn’t see each other in person, they could keep in contact. He’d be like any long-distance relative. He could support Bran’s efforts in school and help him build his future.

Santos was right.

There was no hiding away from reality. There never had been.

A tap on the door—and his ability to perceive Tuan, Santos, and Sean on the other side—told him it was time for the Gathering, whatever the hell that was.

“My vanishing escorts,” Adin said as he opened it. “So nice of you to show up, finally.”

Santos shrugged beneath his handsome coat. “I’m sorry for leaving you at the funeral, Adin. We were unavoidably detained for several hours.”

“It would have been nice if you’d told me. Next time, just text me.”

“Texting is for human teenagers,” said Santos. “I left you in good hands. Tuan brought you back to the hotel?”

“Yes.”

“Thank you for that.” Santos nodded to Tuan. “But, Adin, I’m sure you haven’t forgotten how to phone for a cab.”

Stung, Adin kept his mouth shut. He had been more independent, once. It seemed a long time ago.

“Do you need to feed?”

“Yes.” A wave of shame washed over him.

“The first step is to admit it.” Sean’s eyes twinkled, as usual. “There will be plenty to eat there.”

“Does everyone bring something? I hate to go empty-handed.” Adin closed the door behind them.

“Wait and see.”

“I’ve never been good at that.”

“No kidding.” This from Tuan, who gave him a little shove.

They entered the elevator, and from there, Adin followed them to a suite with a private reception. It looked…remarkably like a cocktail party. Any cocktail party, anywhere.

He’d expected that in Los Angeles, at the Ritz no less, the crowd would be exclusive. Rich, young, wealthy, and gorgeous. There was that element, of course. He recognized several people from the entertainment industry. A couple of hip-hop moguls and one or two supermodels. But there were just as many vampires there who were unremarkable. Plain, even. And some were ancient. There were several who had smallpox scars. Apparently becoming a vampire was a come-as-you-are affair. Adin had a brief and embarrassing moment of gratitude that he’d been turned in his prime.

“There you are, Santos.” A woman with exaggerated eyebrows and dark scarring on both cheeks welcomed Santos with a warm peck on both cheeks. “This must be Dr. Tredeger.”

Adin nodded graciously and allowed her to welcome him the same way she’d welcomed Santos.

“I’m Ellen Wentzler. Santos tells me you need to feed?”

“Er… Yes.” It wasn’t as if she’d asked him if he needed to have a good long wank, but it felt just as bad.

“We have a room set up. Once you’re refreshed you can return and we’ll take care of the formalities.” She glanced at one of the staff, a man dressed in the black trousers, white shirt, and black vest of the waiters. “Evan, would you take Dr. Tredeger back?”

“Certainly.” He nodded and motioned for Adin to follow him to a second, much quieter room, one with low light and soft music playing. A group of humans milled around holding drinks. Talking. They glanced anxiously at the door through which he’d come.

“How does this work exactly?” he asked.

Evan frowned at him. “The same as usual.”

Adin gritted his teeth. “Pretend I don’t know what that is.”

“You must choose a human.” Evan made a sweeping gesture over the room and its inhabitants. “When you’ve chosen, he or she will take you to one of the rooms on this floor.”

“That’s it?”

“Unless you require something…more?” Evan swept both hands over his thighs nervously. “Madame didn’t give me any alternate instructions. Do you have a specific fetish you wish to indulge? We can’t accommodate you if you’re looking for um…children or—”

“Oh, God no.” Adin drew himself upright. “Christ. I’m simply new to this.”

“Ah.” Evan relaxed visibly. “I see. Your choice will know what you need. These men and women have done this before.”

“I see.” Adin gave himself a slight shake. “All right then. Does one simply chat the talent up?”

“Yes, sir.”

Adin nodded. Glanced back the way he came. “All right then. Here goes.”

Adin felt out with his heart, searching for Donte.
I wish you were here.

Was it his imagination? Or did Donte give him a subtle nudge in return?
I’m with you always.

Adin let out a breath and scanned the room.

Beige walls. Beige carpeting. Leather seating. Exquisite lighting. The room was dramatic, as though heads of state dined there privately. Possibly they did.

He noticed the woman in the corner first. She smiled like she had a secret, and Adin wanted to find out what it was. Or no… That wasn’t necessarily true. It wasn’t just the knowing smile, or the fact that she stood by herself, looking at the proceedings as though she didn’t care that she was alone, unchosen. He’d never been one to seek out wallflowers, but she wasn’t that easy to ignore. At any rate, this woman wasn’t one of those.

This woman held herself aloof.

A quick glance around told him there were younger, more attractive men and women in attendance, but when it came to choosing someone to feed from—now that he knew the kind of intimacy his choice would mean—he didn’t base his decision on physical attraction. He wanted a connection with someone who interested him.

The woman with the smile was
still
. She had dark hair and dark eyes. She looked Persian, like the girl who used to cook for his family in Iran, but more important than any familiarity, she looked gentle.

His libido had never quickened for women, but now, suddenly, his huger did…

Perhaps his hunger didn’t have a sexual preference?

Despite the gentle curve of her lips, she looked slightly sad. Resigned to spending the evening alone…

And he could change that.

Adin made his way to the corner where she stood with her back against the wall.

She was too ethnic to be conventionally pretty, too old to compete with those who’d had plastic surgery and Botox injections and God-only-knew what else. But she wore a red dress and black stockings, and she wore them very well. She was
beautiful
.

She appeared to have been aware of his scrutiny, although her expression didn’t change when he finally stood before her.

“I’m Adin.”

“Sahar.” She held out her hand and he shook it.

“You’re smiling.” Adin lifted his brows. “I’m interested to know why.”

“You haven’t given yourself a chance to look around.” She lifted her drink to her lips. “Don’t you want to take a minute and see what else is on offer?”

“No.” He took her hand again and this time, when she made to pull away, he didn’t allow it.

Sahar carried a little red handbag. Inside it, there was a hotel key card. The room she led him to was smaller than his, nice, but not as luxurious.

She made feeding easy for him. He made the transaction erotic for her. They laughed together until they’d satisfied themselves. Their encounter left both of them less alone for a time.

When Adin left, it felt like he was closing another door behind him.

Why do I feel like crying?

He was supposed to return to the Gathering where Tuan and everyone waited for him, but instead, he slipped upstairs to his room. He needed time to think. He wanted to be alone with his thoughts, which were…confusing and a little bit guilty.

He felt
unfaithful
in a way he hadn’t felt when he’d fed at the airport, in part because with Sahar, he’d enjoyed it. He’d actually enjoyed feeding.

He’d
loved
Sahar.

He pulled out his phone and called Donte with some notion of confessing.

“Adin?” Donte answered on the first ring.

“Yes.” Adin sat down, hard. While his body thrummed with vitality, his heart hung heavy and cold. “Is Boaz listening right now?”

“No.”

Adin considered the answer. “Would you tell me if he were?”

“Yes.” Donte let out a soft sigh. “He listens when it regards business and slips out when we talk about private things.”

Adin lifted his feet and let his head fall back on the pillow. “I fed at the Gathering.”

“Did you?”

“A woman. Sahar. I really liked her.”

“I’m glad.”

“I don’t understand what it means though. It’s intimate. I don’t even like women and—” Adin heard a huff of breath. “Are you laughing at me?”

“Maybe.” Adin could hear Donte’s smile in the word. “A little.”

“It felt all wrong.” Adin switched off his bedside lamp and let the darkness fall around him.

“Did it really? Why is that?”

Adin swallowed hard. “I felt wrong for wanting her like that.”

“That’s your human talking.”

“Are we being fair to them? We just take. What we give is a fantasy. It’s not real.”

“If she was at a Gathering, she wanted the fantasy. You’ve given her a gift.”

“Right.” Adin was skeptical.

“Why do you suppose they come to us?”

“Some kind of fetish?”

“I believe they are nourished by the connection, just as we are. What we feel when we feed is intense. It’s personal. It changes us in ways you won’t understand at first. It’s a deep kind of love.”

“I understand that now.” Adin closed his eyes and asked the question that had been nagging at him. “Is that what happened between you and me? Did I misunderstand the intimacy of feeding and get things all wrong between us?”

“Ah, Adin—” Donte’s tone changed to one of growing alarm. “Is that what you think? No, più amato. What happened between us isn’t because I fed from you. Maybe it was at first. You affected me powerfully, as I believe I affected you. I grew to love you outside of feeding from you. I wanted to be with you, quite apart from feeding. You brought me joy, although, to be honest, at first I was none too happy about it.”

“Things are so different now.”

“How so?”

“I spend all my days angry or numb. But when I was with Sahar I remembered what it was like to love someone. To be connected and feel the joy of human connection. Her skin, her scent. The sweetness of her. Her taste.” Silence drew out between them. Apparently Donte was going to be patient for a change. “And now I feel lonelier than ever.”

“Oh, tesoro.” Donte’s words touched him like a kiss. “You think too much.”

“I
think
I just want to sleep now.”

“All right. I’ll talk to you soon.”

“Soon, then.” Adin disconnected the call and let go of his questions, his concerns, and the thoughts that nagged him. He let oblivion claim him, like falling through a sky without stars, and slept, quite literally, like the dead.