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