Vigil (34 page)

door of the limousine and opened it. Before he got in he peered

over the roof. “I’m sorry to say you’ll have to get another ride,

Dr. Tredeger. I’m responsible for this vehicle and I have to return

it before I go home.”

Adin shook his head, unable to speak past the lump in his

throat.

Boaz hates me. Maybe he’s always hated me. How did I miss that?

The car’s engine started and Boaz drove sedately off, taillights

winking in the shallow puddles left by the intermittent rain.

The six of them, Donte, Santos and Adin, Edward, Tuan, and

Bran watched it go. Adin realized that of all of them the only

human—the most
normal
—was Edward. Somewhere, the gods

were probably having a good laugh.

Donte reached out to Adin and lifted him into his strong arms.

Adin followed his instinct and pressed his face to the junction of

Donte’s neck, where the silky turtleneck he wore hid the tendons

and flesh Adin was aware of in a new and more profound, more

sensual way.

“You smell good.” Adin closed his eyes. “Take me home,

Donte. Please. Take me somewhere safe.”

“Caro,” Donte murmured against his skin. “If I could barter

my life to return yours to you—”

“Don’t, Donte.” Adin sagged against him.

“I’m so sorry. I never wanted for this to happen. No matter

what you may believe. I could never have wished for this…”

“I know that. I know… I should have had more faith in you.

I’m sorry.”

“Shh…caro. I’ll ask Tuan to bring my car.” Donte dug his

keys out of a tight pocket and handed them off. It fell to the

rest of them to wait until Tuan came back. No one spoke. There

was little left for any of them to say. Adin noticed Bran hugged

himself tightly against the cold and wished he could have thrown

an arm around the boy. As it was, Edward filled in, drawing Bran

close, patting his back, and giving him a reassuring smile.

It made Adin happy to see that, but he felt his own loss

keenly. He genuinely liked Bran, and now he didn’t know what

would happen.

Once Tuan brought the car around Edward and Donte helped

Adin into the passenger seat. Edward took over the positioning

of his seat belt, locking him in and then patting him as if he

were a child. He brushed his lips across Adin’s forehead and

murmured things in his ear that Adin didn’t understand because

of all the other noises that crowded in on him.

Everything burned into his consciousness at once until it

236 Z.A. Maxfield

became his fondest wish to be isolated, somewhere outside of

the city. Away from the lights and the cacophony and the sensory

overload for a while, if not forever, because even in the middle

of the night, even in the dark, things were simply too much for

him and he experienced the terrifying desire to claw his way free

and run like a trapped animal.

Donte keyed the ignition and seemed to read his mind. “I

know how overwhelming everything is for you right now. I

believe we should head for your home in Washington. I can

make arrangements for another car and driver so we can travel

comfortably.”

“All right.” As they pulled away from the curb, Adin turned to

the side and waved to Edward and Bran. Bran looked like he was

trying not to cry. Edward turned to him and said something, then

chased the car a few feet until Adin rolled down the window and

Donte applied the brakes.

“Bran will e-mail you first thing so you can keep in touch. You

can video chat live and…”

Adin leaned out of the car to motion Bran over. “It will be

all right, Bran. I promise you. We’ll find a way to talk often while

we’re trying to figure all this out.”

Bran’s face was so hopeful that Adin wanted to capture it and

hold onto it. He wanted to imprint it on his heart so he would

never allow himself to let Bran down again. He asked for Donte’s

phone and used it to take Bran’s picture.

“I’m going to miss you,” Bran told him.

“I’m not going far. Promise me you’ll call me if you need to

talk about anything. Anytime you want.”

Bran hesitated.

“Promise me.”

Adin got a smile and a nod from Bran as Edward put his arm

around the boy. Adin waved once again and watched them as he

and Donte edged out into the night.

When they could barely see the hospital in the distance, Adin

Vigil
237

remembered something and sighed with regret.

“What?” Donte asked, taking his hand.

“I left your gifts behind. I thought…”

Donte’s expression tightened. “I know what you thought.”

“Now I wish I’d brought them.”

“I’m sure Tuan can be persuaded to gather them up for you.”

Adin nodded.

“And I have forever to find new things to gift you with,” he

added. “If you’ll still let me.”

Adin squeezed Donte’s hand hard and growled, “Who’s the

pazzo
now... Even if you had done this to me—”

“Don’t say anything you don’t mean, Adin.” Donte glanced at

him, then back at the road.

“But I do mean it. I barely understand what’s happening to

me. But even when I was furious with you, I loved you. I longed

for you. I would have forgiven you eventually, if you’d done it.

I know I would have… It might have taken time, but I would

have.”

Donte’s voice grew hoarse. “I don’t deserve absolution. Even

though I didn’t turn you, it was because of me that—”

“Maybe, but my forgiveness is mine to give along with my

love and my future. It’s all yours, Donte. Everything.”

Donte was so silent Adin worried for a minute. “You said

something like that before, when we met.
‘My life is mine to give’
.”

Adin remembered. “For the record, I had already begun to

change my mind about being turned.”

“What did you just say?” Donte’s voice was tense.

Adin shook his head. “A lot of what I believed about love

changed when I had to leave you in France.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I thought then…what would I do for one more hour? What

would I do if that was the last time…?” Adin’s throat closed.

238 Z.A. Maxfield

“I didn’t know.” Donte pulled over into the deserted parking

lot of a restaurant.

“I realized I’d have moved heaven and earth, let Peter break

my other arm, every bone in my body, even turn me, if it meant

I could be with you again.”

“Caro. I had no idea. You left for America with Bran and I

believed you understood that I would come when I could. When

I spoke with Boaz I told him that I would be there as soon as it

was safe for me to travel.”

Adin smiled bitterly. “I never got that message.”

“What?”

“Boaz told all of us you never called.”

Donte’s face registered the pain of that betrayal. “I had no

idea how deep his resentment went.”

“I’m sorry to come between you. He loved you in his own

way.”

“He can’t have loved me if he harmed the person I cherish

most. That’s not love.”

“He said you were a prince among men.”

Donte flashed his white smile. “I’m not even a count

anymore.”

Adin felt the beginnings of a fathomless hunger bloom

throughout his body. It made beads of cold sweat break out on

his upper lip until he whispered aloud, “Donte…”

“Hungry?” Donte eyed Adin’s face, watching him with

curiosity as the changes began. It seemed that Adin had his own

blood song to sing. He felt it surge through his veins until it rang

in his ears, driving him toward something he didn’t know how

to find.

“Yes.” Adin hissed as his canines elongated. He shivered

against the sensation of teeth tearing past his gums. He noticed

the way his body hair rose on his skin and the desperate,

wrenching emptiness that clawed at his belly.

Vigil
239

It hurt.

“Can you help me?”

“I can, caro. But not the way you think. If you take a small

amount from me, then it will stay your cravings until we can find

something for the both of us. Shall I help you that way?”

Adin simply didn’t know. He’d never fed. He’d never had to.

His needs were taken care of intravenously in the hospital and his

cravings had been muted by medication. He still couldn’t make

himself believe he’d ever use his teeth to tear someone’s flesh.

“Yes. But…”

“This first time I’ll open my own vein, here, on my arm, see?”

Donte lifted the sleeve of his turtleneck, bringing his arm up

and using his other hand to point out the place he planned to

puncture. “When you get close to the skin you will feel it, press

your lips just there…”

Adin did as he was told. He was shocked to feel blood beneath

the surface of Donte’s skin like a hidden spring. He could smell

it and it made his mouth water. “I want it…” was all he could get

out. The truth was just the idea of tasting what he smelled made

his eyes close in ecstasy.

“Ah, caro.” Donte bit his own wrist and Adin fell on it, lapping

up the rich, red droplets until the wound closed.

Adin whimpered when he could find no more blood and

Donte repeated the process twice more until Adin sighed happily.

“That’s right, caro. You don’t need much just yet.” Donte

nuzzled him for a kiss and Adin knew they both tasted blood on

his lips. Donte smiled indulgently at him, stroking a light finger

over his cheek. “You…”

“What?” Adin asked. He was slightly ashamed at the greed

with which he’d taken Donte’s blood, but discovered that beyond

the need, beyond the thrill of having Donte’s flavor, his essence

coursing through his veins, he felt nurtured in some indefinable

way that made his love for Donte burn brighter in his chest than

it ever had before.

240 Z.A. Maxfield

“I would turn myself inside out for you,” Donte told him. “I

find I very much enjoy feeding you this way for a change.”

Adin was so relaxed he felt boneless. “Me too.”

“But soon you’ll need others. It’s not a terrible thing if you

learn to give pleasure while you take sustenance.”

Adin frowned. “I don’t want to give anyone pleasure but you.”

Donte laughed gently. “Do you want to know a secret?”

“Not if it means I have to—”

“Hush, caro.” Donte resumed his seat behind the wheel and

started the engine again. “You will not win this argument. Your

body will demand blood. But there are ways of finding it without

sharing intimacy with anyone. I save all my pleasure for when

I’m with you. But I can give others pleasure for the gift of their

blood, and remain completely unmoved.”

Adin leaned back in his seat, tired, replete for the moment,

and happier than he’d been in a long time.

“Bet you thought you could do that with me,” he teased.

“I admit, the thought occurred to me in the airplane when we

first met.”

“I am irresistible.” Adin lifted the lever that caused the seat

to sink backwards.

“Of course you are.”

“I’m still vampire catnip.”

“Indeed.” Donte reached into the back seat and pulled his

coat forward for Adin. “Here, pull this up over you, so you don’t

get cold.”

“How often do you get cold?”

Donte stopped in the act of tucking Adin in. His hand still

hovered over Adin’s chest. Adin caught it and kissed the knuckles,

giving them a tiny nip in the process.

“This is going to take some getting used to, isn’t it my lover?”

Donte smiled indulgently and continued to drive. The wipers

Vigil
241

picked up speed as the rain came down harder. “We have plenty

of time, più amato.”

Want a little more of Adin and Donte? Take a peek at

MAtins

Coming in 2011 from ManLoveRomance Press

Adin sat in the window seat of his Bainbridge Island home

and gazed out at the crisp winter morning. Gray clouds hid the

sun, and since it had recently rained the naked trees stood in stark

silhouette against the sky. Adin was surprised to find that his

thoughts—for once—didn’t mirror the weather.

Life… for lack of a better word had become very pleasant

over the weeks they’d spent in Washington. After a number of

minor changes, new double-paned windows with lightblocking

shades inside that could be drawn on the days that the sun shone,

some clever manipulation of the perceptions of the neighbors

on Donte’s part, and what Adin had privately begun to think of

as his crash-course in
Vampire 101, The Care and Feeding of Baby

Vampires
, he’d managed to find a sort of equilibrium.

Long, late evening walks led to more intimate conversations

than he’d ever dreamed he’d have with Donte, who seemed to

believe he was on some sort of probation—which was patently

ridiculous. As Adin watched him crawl backward from behind

the sofa in their living room, tacking cable to the baseboards, it

once again occurred to him that he’d never, ever been loved like