Notturno (24 page)

removable key. If he wore a pocket watch, it would be fun to

put the key on the fob. As it was, he knew it would be best to

keep the piece in a safe deposit box. It was definitely a nearly

priceless, museum-quality piece if what little he knew of

miniatures was anything to go by. Knowing that he was sitting

there in the middle of the night winding it with his bare hands

and listening to it over and over would give Edward apoplexy.

Finally Adin put the box on the coffee table and closed his eyes.

Call my name into the wind, indeed. He began to drift into a

dreamless void, so tired, yet not quite ready to let go. He could

hear the rustling susurration of Sean’s voice whispering to him.

“Say my name…speak my name…call me…”

He was relaxing into the regular rhythm of the sound of

Sean’s tenor voice and his own breathing when, abruptly, he

heard a harsh baritone, which snapped him back to reality.

“Adin!”

Adin sat up painfully, his shoulder pulling a little from the

force of it. He looked around, uncertain for a moment what

could have caused him to start like that. Then he remembered.

That deep sound—his name practically cracked like a whip—

interrupted the other, slightly higher-pitched intonation that had

been calling him into what he was sure would have been a

lovely dream.

Before he could explore Sean’s invitation, Donte’s voice had

called him back, and he’d obeyed it like a faithful dog. He

closed his eyes.

Not my finest hour.

Auselmo, see how I’ve drawn you today. I cannot beg your forgiveness; I
have no words for my shame. It was with a kind of horror that I greeted the
dawn this morning, and with it, the news that Renata has followed me and
dragged along her circle of dreadful actors and artists. At last, my love, you
will know what I live with daily and what I’ve tried to escape. Renata is
quite, quite mad.

Only a month before I came to visit you, I began to notice a change in
her behavior, as if with the passage of time she was also changing into
another person. In fact, I did think that perhaps dementia was creeping up
along with age to steal what little beauty she possessed. As she never
exhibited a shred of kindness or compassion, it seemed to me that I hardly
noticed when she began to hate. And at the core of that hatred, I fear, is her
disappointment in me.

Perhaps she truly loved my brother after all and resents that I have
received what should have been his. I hesitate to even speculate on one whose
motives are so clearly driven by insanity. Most recently, she and her lover,
the actor Bonamico Delporrino, have taken to sighing and lounging
indolently around during the day and practicing what can only be described
as unholy rites and witchcraft at night. She grows thin and pale, and now
refuses even the slightest request from me. I love my sons, Auselmo, and
have no wish to see their mother branded a heretic or a witch.

My beloved Auselmo, all this I have kept from you so you would not
worry for me, nor be tainted by my ill fortune, and yet, when I wasn’t
vigilant enough, it still found its way to your door. Mea culpa, my love.

Mea culpa. We must call the priests at once and do all we can to shield
your wife and son from her. I will take her from here as soon as I can
persuade her to come with me.

^\

I write this, Auselmo, a shaken man. Never have I seen you so furious.

I have begged for your forgiveness and have no wish to see you angry, but I
did what I did for love of you. That you cannot understand this renders me
heartsick.

170 Z.A. Maxfield

Auselmo, what good could come from sharing my misfortunes with you?

How should I have confided that my wife is mad? To what purpose is the
agony of two men, when one can bear the load himself?

You say you are angry because the love we share precludes secrets and
lies and the willful deception that I have practiced on you. You say you wish
to understand and share my pain. Never! By all the saints I would keep
you free from the taint of Renata’s insane malice even if I have to leave you
forever to do it. You may not scold. You may not rail at me or beg me or
weep. I will take her home and consider what I must do, but know this: I
will not let her madness touch one corner of what you have created here. Not
one stone, not one blade of grass, not one hair on the head of anyone in your
small family. I love you more than my own life. Whether you like it or not,
I will leave on the morrow.

Please, please, forgive me now! I am trapped, Auselmo, neatly caught
between the shadow of my father and my love for my sons. All the while I
act out this drama, my heart is held safely in your hands. Can you not see
that your anger is likely to break me as nothing else might? Please. I take
my wife tomorrow and leave. I know not what awaits me, and I care not.

Come to me, Auselmo. I beg you. I hold my breath and await you. Relent
for me. Come to me.

^\

Ah, Auselmo. How many times have I drawn a robe about your

shoulders as I sit sketching while you sleep? Your head is now at rest in my
lap, your arms tighten about my hips if you feel me move. How perfect this
seems to me. How very like the still moment before a terrible storm, when
the sky is sinister with rain and the air crackles around one’s head. This is
that moment, I know, Auselmo, and I am terribly, terribly afraid.

Renata plots. It is clear her hatred has gone beyond madness.

Tomorrow we leave, but I fear—for the first time—that these might be our
last moments together.

How I love you. I am both weak from it and strengthened by it. I am
prepared to kill Renata or be killed by her, as I think that is her aim.

There have been whispers among the staff of animals dying mysteriously.

There has been talk of spells by some, and poison by others. I have only
hinted at this to you, still determined to protect you. I can see by the way
you sleep that it is working, for I will probably never sleep again. I can
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171

never turn my back on her or anyone in her little group for fear of finding a
blade sticking out of it.

I saw you playing with Cristiano today. He has your smile and your
stillness, but also exhibits a spark of playful mischief that I suspect you
have in you but ruthlessly subdue. It was a great comfort to me that you do
not seem willing to subdue it in him. He is a fine son. I promise my
unquestioning love and loyalty to you both, and your kind wife, as long as I
live. That may be all I have to give, but I give it with all my heart, my love.

^\

Now that I’m mired in it, madness fascinates me. It is very like the
enclosed conveyance in which they transported me from your home, beloved,
in that it has holes, and light streams from them in long, slanting beams,
like swords, and I must not let them touch me or I will burn and die.

^\

Adin heard the jingle and scrape of keys in the lock and

looked up. Sometime, although he didn’t quite remember when,

darkness had fallen. His sister’s cozy bungalow windows were

still wide open, but none of the lights were on. Adin had been

lounging on the living room sofa working on his brand-new and

inexplicably foreign and uncomfortable-feeling laptop, unaware

even that he hadn’t been reading from it for who knew how

long. He sat up, and the throw he’d had draped over his legs

slid to the floor. He was just picking it up when Deana entered.

“Oh, Adin.” Dismay was evident in her voice. She switched

on a light. “Didn’t you go out at all today? You’re exactly where

you were when I left!”

Adin put the computer on the coffee table and rubbed his

face, stubbled now with several days’ growth of beard. “I am

not.”

“You are. Did you even eat?”

Adin looked around. He couldn’t remember eating, but that

didn’t mean he hadn’t done it. “Sure I did.” He didn’t think she

bought it. “I’m sure I must have. I’m not hungry in the least.”

“Oh, oddball.” She sighed, and he felt ashamed. “Maybe you

should talk to someone.”

172 Z.A. Maxfield

Adin smiled wanly. It had been little over a month, and

Deana still believed he was the victim of a violent mugging.

Privately, he wondered if she thought he’d been raped or

violated in some other way and found it difficult to talk about.

She never spoke of it if she did.

“I could find you someone local, maybe through the GLBT

community, and they could…”

“Deana, I’m really fine.” Adin stood. “Do you have plans

for dinner? Maybe we could go out to eat. Canter’s?”

“You’re changing the subject again. I will not be distracted

by food.”

“What about jewelry?” he asked without emotion.

Deana snarled at him; playfully, he hoped. “I’m going to

change clothes.” Deana walked past him to her room, calling

out behind her, “If you want to go out to eat, then let’s do that.

At least you’ll get out.”

Adin showered quickly and made himself presentable. He

pulled on a pair of jeans and a white button-down shirt he’d

purchased since arriving in Los Angeles. He had nothing with

him when he’d arrived, only the clothes that Edward brought

him in the hospital and what he’d been wearing when he was

kidnapped. His luggage was in Washington, and his laptop case

had been lost in Sausalito, at Santos’s place. He’d finally

purchased a new computer and the necessities, and Deana, who

always loved to shop, brought him something new every night.

Today she presented him with a bag containing aftershave from

Barneys, where she’d apparently shopped at lunch.

“Oh,” he’d said, smelling the delicate fragrance. It was nice,

but not what he usually wore. “This is nice, Deana Beana. I feel

like a refugee.”

“Refugees don’t wear Hierbas de Ibiza,” said his sister dryly.

“No, they don’t.” He grinned, but his heart wasn’t in it, and

she knew it. He scented himself to make her happy, and they

left in her BMW to Fairfax.

“Adin, you’d tell me if anything happened to you…that

night… I mean…”

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Adin squeezed her hand. “Deana, I was mugged, and

someone beat the unholy crap out of me. That’s hard to take.”

He looked away. “But what you’re sensing from me has nothing

to do with that. Your sisterly intuition is sniffing out a broken

heart.”

Deana stared at him with her mouth open when the light

turned green. Several horns honked.

“All
right
.” She cursed. “I’m going.” She began to drive

again. Negotiating the crowded streets, she darted through

traffic, dodging slower-moving and double-parked cars. “Adin,

are you telling me you’re in love?”

“Yes,” Adin replied quietly.

“Since the last time you were here? You were only gone for

what…a week?”

“It was sudden, and I’m not even sure I knew it was

happening at the time.” He caught the handle on the ceiling as

she sped around a tight corner. “Anyway, it didn’t work out. He

wasn’t over someone he lost, and it was impossible.” Canter’s

came into view.

“Oh, Adin.” Deana pulled into the parking lot and parked

neatly. “I’m so sorry.”

“Yeah, well…”

She didn’t move from her seat. “This is your first time, isn’t

it?”

“Are you kidding?” He tried for a joke.

Deana rolled her eyes. “In love. This is the first time you’ve

ever been in love?”

“Yeah.” The darkness absorbed him. “We met on the plane.

He was…” Adin shook his head.

“Oh, baby.” She pushed her door open, and light flooded

the compartment. Adin hoped he didn’t have that expression

on his face, the one he’d seen lately in the mirror that reeked of

hopelessness and self-pity.

174 Z.A. Maxfield

Deana studied him in a soft way that reminded him of his

mother so abruptly that he caught his breath. “You know that

means an extra dessert, don’t you? A broken heart?”

He pushed his own door open. “Yeah, let’s do it. At least

until it makes me fat and no one wants me at all.”

Deana threw him a look that spoke volumes about his

attitude.

They walked through the deli together and were seated in

the middle of the huge and bustling restaurant at a table. By the

time they were finished with the matzo ball soup, Deana had

outlined a five-year plan of romantic disappointment recovery

that even Adin approved of. Adin wondered if he and Edward

had been switched at birth. Clearly Edward would have

enthused more than Adin did over her plans for spa vacations

and shopping extravaganzas and rich dark chocolate.

As if she could read his mind, she said, “I sent Edward his

package of beauty products today. He told me to be gentle with

you.”

“Ah,” said Adin.

“Do you want what he and Tuan have?” She sighed. “I