arrangements for a hotel?” Adin shook his head. “From Santos’s
place I can get papers for Bran, and make travel arrangements.
Please, Adin.”
Boaz had never,
ever
said please to him before. The car was
stopped momentarily at a traffic light, but whoever followed
them was only three car lengths back. He met Boaz’s eyes in
the mirror again. Boaz was worried. He cared a great deal for
Bran, who looked up to him. Plus he was something equally not
human, and he made Bran feel less alone. Without Boaz, Adin
didn’t have a prayer of taking Bran back to his home in the States.
“All right,” Adin agreed. “Make the call.”
Ancient iron gates closed behind the sedan as Adin looked
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back to see how close their pursuers had been. Five men emerged
from Santos’s home, their height and coloring all similar to that
of the man who had evicted them from Donte’s. They wore dark
overcoats and black leather gloves against the chilly spring air,
and hats pulled over their brows. They moved with precision and
power, their faces covered by blank white Venetian carnival masks,
giving them the look of exquisite, if merciless, marionettes.
“He does clone them,” Adin whispered, waiting for a signal
from Boaz that it was safe to emerge from the car. “He must.
Why are they wearing masks?”
“It’s intimidating isn’t it?” Boaz murmured. “Mostly it’s to
keep the sun from harming them, but it serves the dual purpose
of frightening off the unwanted.”
“How come I didn’t notice them before?” Adin shuddered.
“It’s like a Jean Cocteau film.”
Bran stuck to Boaz like glue. The older man put his arm out
to comfort him. “You came as a guest last time and it was late
at night. This time they’re here to see to any trouble. Santos says
they know to stay away from us though, especially Bran, until
Santos finds out why the hell the healer’s men reacted that way.”
Adin watched as the car that had been following them sped
past. “Do you expect further trouble?”
Boaz glanced at Bran then back to Adin. “Yes, count on it.”
Adin pushed his fork lazily around the dish placed before
him. It appeared to be a blue cheese soufflé accompanied by
some sort of spring mix of greens, topped with Bosc pears, more
blue cheese, and candied nuts. He stared at it listlessly. He’d called
Donte’s cell phone and the farmhouse repeatedly but no one
answered. Donte must know he needed reassuring. Something
had to be terribly wrong. It drained him of his strength and his
desire for food, although he was trying to act naturally for Bran’s
sake. But even Bran, teenage boy and bottomless pit, seemed to
have little or no appetite.
Whatever immediate threat the men following them posed,
Santos’s minions had neutralized it. Now, nearly night, they’d
seen nothing of their host’s private army for hours. Boaz had
managed dinner and disappeared as well, leaving Bran and Adin
alone to dine. Adin poured himself a second glass of wine.
Bran finally broke the silence. “May I have wine?”
Adin shot him a tired smile. “Pour some water into your glass
first.”
Bran did as he was told and Adin added some of the deep red
cabernet to it. “You’re worried I’ll become a drunk.”
“For the record, that’s the least of my worries.” Adin leaned
back in his chair. Unbidden, a horrible thought occurred to him.
“Can you tell me, do imps lay eggs?”
“Excuse me?”
“The only thing Boaz ever cooks is eggs. He’s very inventive,
but it’s always eggs.” Adin pushed his plate away. “Donte once
pointed that out. Suddenly, I’m not hungry.”
“These are chicken eggs. I saw the carton.” Bran looked at
him thoughtfully. “You’re still worried.”
“Of course I’m worried. Donte is…”
148 Z.A. Maxfield
“He’s what?”
“He’s my happiness. I know that’s maudlin drivel. I’m a grown
man, and I don’t believe in fairy tales, but—”
Bran’s eyes widened. “Why not?”
“What do you mean?”
“Why don’t you believe in fairy tales? It seems to me that once
you learn how the world really works, fairy tales make a lot more
sense. There
are
fairies. And imps. Things that are dark and dead
scary and sources of magic that ordinary people never find out
exist. Undead people walk the earth.”
“I never thought about it that way.” Adin frowned a little.
“I’ve seen your dreams Adin. I know why you don’t believe.”
Adin stiffened. “And why is that?”
“Come on. Do I have to spell it out? Do you know how many
blokes try it on with a boy living on the street?”
“I certainly never—”
“Charles used you Adin, as much as any pimp who ever
picked up a runaway boy at the station. He had to change the way
you saw the world to get you to go along with his schemes, and
then he used you. In your dreams you see that clearly.”
Adin picked up his glass and drank. “I know Charles used me.
But in no way did he change the way I saw the world.”
“No. He just made you feel like the worst fool that ever lived.”
Adin didn’t know what to say to that.
“So you think Donte is…?” Bran asked.
“I can’t bear to think they couldn’t help him. I don’t like not
knowing,” Adin admitted.
“It must be nice to have a connection to someone.” Bran’s
face twisted. “I wish I knew what it was that I did to make him
sick!”
“I’m sure you didn’t do anything. What could you even have
done? You saw each other for a brief moment before you went
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upstairs. I’m certain there’s been some sort of—” Adin’s cell
phone rang and he motioned to Bran that he was going to take it
in the kitchen. He answered as he walked. “Tredeger.”
“Adin.” Santos’s voice sounded concerned. “My man
confessed he was rough with you. How is your arm?”
“Broken.” Adin heard Santos curse.
“You have my sincerest apologies.”
“Thanks for that.” Adin paused. “Is Donte—”
“Fedeltà is perfectly safe in Madame’s hands, which is more
than I can say for Peter once Donte finds out he manhandled you
until you broke. Peter said you fought like a man possessed. I’m
impressed.”
“I was distraught. They made me leave without him. Without
saying good-bye. I think that was the worst I’ve ever felt,” Adin
admitted. “Can you tell me what the hell happened? He aged
overnight.”
There was a palpable silence on the line. Adin knew Santos
weighed his options. He’d been, at times, an implacable enemy, at
times charming, almost kind. One never knew where one stood
with Santos. Adin held his breath.
“It’s the boy,” Santos said finally.
Adin rested a hip on the kitchen counter and glanced back to
make sure Bran couldn’t hear him. “How can that be?”
“Mme. Restieaux conjectures that the boy manifests a
powerful natural energy very similar to that which is given off by
the sun. We’re simply allergic to him.”
“That’s absurd; he’s as flesh and blood as I am.”
“Is he?” Santos asked. “Things aren’t always as they appear.
Nature’s process is relentless. All living things are part of its cycle.
The vampire is its antithesis. We represent the manipulation of
nature. The avoidance of death. These require deep magic—for
lack of a better word—that is as old as nature, and in opposition
to it.”
150 Z.A. Maxfield
“If he were made of sunlight why am I not affected? I would
be irradiated. I would be burned.
I
would be growing older—”
“I said it was similar to sunlight. It’s as if he’s made of life
itself. At any rate, it seems the undead are unsafe within his
sphere of influence.”
“He has no idea of that.” Adin peered into the dining room
where Bran sat, eating his salad and finishing his watered wine.
“What should I tell him?”
“Tell him nothing Adin,” Santos warned. “When you took
off Bran’s chains, his strength grew and it impacted everything
around it. He’ll only get stronger. More dangerous to those of us
who must not face the sun. You cannot protect him and Donte
both. You’ll need to choose.”
“No.”
“Madame said that Bran’s nature is older than time. I am
sorry.” Santos’s voice held real regret. “Truly. I had in mind to
twit you with hard choices, but not… never fatal ones.”
Adin took the apology to be sincere. “Thank you Santos.”
“Odd to hear you say that.”
“Nevertheless.” Adin swallowed hard. “Thank you.”
Santos disconnected the call.
What a clusterfuck
.
Adin tried Donte’s number and once again, it rang straight
through to voice mail.
Bran spoke from behind him. “If you want, you and Boaz can
go to Donte. I’d have to borrow some money, but—”
“There is not a chance in the world that I’d leave you alone to
fend for yourself,” Adin told him tiredly.
“I’ve been alone most of my life, Adin.”
“Donte has been fine without me for centuries. He’s with
friends. He’ll come for me as soon as he can.”
“What if he doesn’t? What if he decides he can’t risk being
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around me?”
Adin gave Bran a smile that was probably as weak as he felt.
“It’s his call to make. His survival. That’s as important to me
as my own.” Suddenly, Adin felt the cold in a new and more
profound way. He left for his bedroom to find a sweater and
a little privacy. Once there, he removed his sling and paused in
front of the wardrobe drawers, allowing himself to consider
what it might mean to him if Donte wrote him off.
He reached into his suitcase for an Aran wool pullover that
he’d had for years and slipped it over his head, painfully pushing
his soft cast through the worn, loose cuff of the sleeve.
There were others, surely, who could care for Bran. With the
correct papers, he could be placed with a family in Washington,
somewhere Adin could be a regular part of his life. Tuan would
know about otherworldly immigration and they could all come
up with a suitable solution together. Bran could be happy and
live a semi-normal life. Maybe even find a family that could love
him as much as…
Boaz appeared behind him in the mirror as he pulled his sling
back on. “I found a place to go for documents. It could be tricky
because we’ll have to deal with people we would normally avoid.
We won’t be able to go to the usual forgers because Bran can’t be
around the undead.”
Adin turned. “Why does putting myself into the hands of
criminals feel so much worse than being around people who
want to eat me?”
Boaz shrugged. “If you’d rather stay here, I could take him.”
“No.” Adin followed Boaz from the room and down the
stairs. “I’d feel better if I went with you. I don’t know why, really.
Of all the players, I’m definitely the weakest link.”
“He trusts you,” Boaz said quietly when they walked down
the stairs together.
“Yes. I know.” Adin sighed.
“When you’re finished eating then?”
152 Z.A. Maxfield
“Yes.” Adin stopped on the bottom step, already tired. “I’m
exhausted and my arm is throbbing. How far is it?”
“Not far. I’ll get your meds. It’s nearly time for you to take
them.”
“Thanks.” Adin leaned against the railing at bottom of the
stairs. “I want to go home.”
“Where? To Washington or your sister’s in Los Angeles?”
Adin shook his head. “Maybe San Francisco. I want to see
Edward, and ask Tuan for help. If I go to Los Angeles I’ll have
to explain Bran to Deana.”
“I’ll make the arrangements.”
“Thank you Boaz.” Adin wanted to ask him if he’d heard
from Donte, but discovered he didn’t want to know the answer
if it was
yes
.
Boaz appeared to read his mind. “He hasn’t called me either.
I’m sure he’s taking his time to make certain he’s well. It’s far
more dangerous than you can imagine for someone like Donte
when he’s in a weakened state. Not just for himself, but because
no one is safe around a weakened vampire. There are those who
would take advantage of it.”
“Santos is in Taiwan, isn’t he?”
“Santos isn’t the only vampire who would like to see Donte
Fedeltà taken down. Men with the kind of power Donte wields
will always have enemies.”
“
Perfect
.” Adin picked up his plate, no longer even pretending
to be hungry. He walked to the kitchen and placed his food in the
trash. Bran followed him quietly, having finished his dinner, but
no less unhappy. “Let’s head out. The sooner Bran has papers the
sooner we can go home.”
Adin’s fears with regard to getting Bran’s papers turned out to
be fairly unfounded. All it took was the right word in the ear of
a clerk at a specific camera store. They were led behind a set of
dirty curtains and down a flight of stairs into a basement filled
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