Vigil (35 page)

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Authors: Z. A. Maxfield

Tags: #Fiction, #Gay, #MLR Press; ISBN 978-1-60820-172-3

BOOK: Vigil
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this.

He knew how lucky he was and—alive or undead—reveled

in it.

“I feel you watching me, Adin,” Donte said without looking

up.

“Your ass is doing marvelous things. I should have you lay

carpet, just for giggles.”

“Carpet is a filthy thing. Humans have no idea what goes on

unseen by the naked eye in
carpet
.”

“Thanks for that image.” Adin shuddered. “I’m glad we have

wood floors then.”

“I agree. I like them; they show age and craftsmanship. They’re

organic. It feels nice to walk on wooden floors. I’ve always liked

them. And stone.”

“Are you ever going to tell me what you’re doing?”

“It’s a secret.” Donte tapped his Bluetooth headset and said,

“Almost there.”

“Who are you talking to?”

“None of your business.” Donte smirked at him. Aside he

said, “No, that was for Adin, he’s curious what I’m doing. What

can I say?
Babies
. Always into everything.”

“Donte, I can and will strike you if you don’t stop calling me

a
baby
.”

“I should probably go, someone’s getting fussy. Must be

getting tired.” Donte shot Adin a look guaranteed to start a fight,

at the very least. “It’s hard to tell these days if he just needs a nap

or—”

In the blink of an eye Adin shot to his feet and hurled

himself into Donte. He slammed into Donte’s body and wrapped

both arms around his neck, pushing him down to the couch.

On impact it moved several feet across the wooden floor and

smashed into a final resting place against the wall where Donte

had been working.

“One of these days, you’re going to scratch that floor.” Donte

positively grinned, and okay, on Donte it was rather chilling but it

heated Adin’s blood like nothing else ever could.

“Are you still on the phone?”

“No.”

“Good, because I don’t want whoever it was to hear you

screaming my name.” He tore Donte’s tailored shirt right off, the

sound of buttons hitting the floor loud in the still afternoon air,

but not as loud as Donte’s gasp of excitement. Still he held Adin

back from doing the same thing to his trousers.

“Adin. Buttons do not sew themselves back on to a shirt

when you do that…”

“I thought we planned to keep your tailor and all his progeny

in business for generations to come.”

Donte was uncharacteristically quiet.

“What?”

“Boaz took care of things like mending.”

“I see.” Adin pulled back a little, bracing himself on his elbow

and thumbing light circles on Donte’s chest. “You miss him.”

“I cannot miss what never existed. I don’t believe I ever really

knew him.”

Adin kissed Donte’s dark nipple until it hardened, then

rubbed his lips over the bud. “Possibly, none of us did. I didn’t

realize how deeply he resented me. He never gave me even a hint

until the very end.”

“I don’t know how I missed it.” Before Adin could give him a

pinch, Donte caught his hand and gave it a gentle nip. “I’d rather

he didn’t spoil our afternoon, though. I’m sorry I mentioned it.”

“Ah. All right. Where was I?”

“You were going to make me scream?” Donte took two of

Adin’s fingers in his mouth and sucked. “Wasn’t that what you

had planned?”

“Yes, I remember now. I have this movie called
The Grudge

and—”

Donte pushed Adin up to his knees and jerked the buttons

of his jeans open. “I have always liked buttons so much better

than zippers. Good for you wearing the easy-to-open variety of

blue jeans.”

“Oh, so it’s all right for you to tear open some clothes…”

“But these—” Donte gave an experimental tug on one of

Adin’s buttons “—are so very sturdy.”

“What about yours?” He reached for the fly of Donte’s

trousers. “Alas, a zipper.”

Adin carefully unzipped Donte and they writhed around on

the couch, freeing each other of their clothes until they were

naked, skin to skin, cock to cock, and some world-class friction

had stopped their silly banter.


Yes
.”

Adin gripped Donte’s ass before reaching down his thighs

and drawing his legs up. Donte felt behind his head for a bottle

of lube that Adin had tucked into the space between the cushion

and the arm of the sofa. In fact, Adin had tucked lube in just

about every crevice of his house, at one point even placing a

bottle between some of the pots on the back porch because if

his hunger for blood was new and fierce, his hunger for Donte

had grown exponentially beyond that, giving him superhuman

vigor and really vivid porn-star fantasies. His concession to

Donte’s fastidious personality was to leave quilts on the leather

furniture. He picked Donte up with one arm using his brand new

and frightening strength, to slide one under his ass.

Quilts, apparently stood up to washing better than leather

couches. Who knew?

“Donte,” he growled and went in for a deep, satisfying kiss. He

slicked his fingers and probed Donte’s entrance gently, earning a

sweet sigh when he found his way past the tight muscles. Once

he got started, he couldn’t help adding another finger, pushing

them in and out of Donte’s tight heat, stroking over the bundle

of nerves that made him shiver and eventually, would send him

flying apart.

Donte’s eyes darkened, his black pupils blooming in the dark

irises as he grew more aroused. Adin was aware of Donte’s need.

He felt tension under his fingertips from the way Donte’s muscles

bunched beneath his fingers, heard the small grunts he made as

he strained for more contact, he smelled Donte’s arousal, and

underneath all the physical cues, he heard the song of Donte’s

blood as it called him.

His canines elongated so he rubbed them gently against the

skin of Donte’s neck.

“Do it.” Donte arched against him. “You once told me it

meant something to you to nourish me. I believed I’d never have

the pleasure of returning the favor, and now I find that I want it

more than anything.”

Adin pressed his cock against Donte’s tight entrance. He

lifted Donte’s hips and began a long, agonizingly slow push into

Donte’s ass even as he struck deeply with his sharp teeth, piercing

the skin below Donte’s jaw cleanly and lapped at the blood that

welled there.

Donte let out a shuddering breath. “
Ah
.
Adin
.
Più amato
.”

Adin smiled against his skin as he pulled his cock back and

thrust again, over and over, biting and sucking, until their blood

sang louder and louder—a cacophony of sweet harmony and

intense need. Their bodies surged and fell together like waves,

only to draw back again and again, meeting and crashing, drawing

apart, obliterating any remaining restraint between them as they

fucked and delivered stinging love bites all over each other’s skin,

until Donte was indeed screaming Adin’s name.

At some point they fell off the couch, and continued to roll

frantically, with Donte on top for a bit, riding him and clutching

his shoulders in a viselike grip.

Adin watched as Donte went over the edge, his head thrown

back, sweat dripping from his damp hair. He froze to a shaking

stillness and held on to Adin’s hips as if he’d never let go. Donte

was beautiful. Adin had no words, no adequate thoughts, even,

for a sight like that.

Donte came in convulsive waves, his ass clenching Adin’s

cock while Adin rode out his own release, his hips stuttering, out

of control. Donte crushed Adin to him and pierced the flesh of

his neck to feed.

They came to rest somewhere in the middle of the living

room, half under a cocktail table. Donte lapped at the deepest

wound in Adin’s neck while it closed.

After holding one another for a long time in the breathless,

utter silence of the undead, Donte peeled his body off Adin’s.

“No need to order the pizza boy tonight.”

“That’s good, it feels wasteful throwing out the pizza.” Adin

crawled on all fours to find his clothes.

“You look like a beautiful cat when you do that, caro.”

Adin found his T-shirt and put it on. “Are you ever going to

tell me why you moved all the furniture and spent the day tacking

cable to my beautiful walls and baseboards? I hope you know

how to spackle.”

“Whatever
that
is, I’m sure I can learn it, given time.” Donte

dragged on his trousers. “Get dressed and I’ll show you right

now.”

Once Adin complied and was basically dressed, Donte donned

his now buttonless shirt then tapped his Bluetooth earpiece.

“Redial
,” he commanded with all the aplomb of an erstwhile

Italian count wearing sex-shredded clothes. He waited for a

minute and then said, “Donte here, I think I’m done.”

Adin snorted. “Done. I’ll say. You’ve definitely been done.”

Donte shushed him with a hand to his lips and listened. “All

right. Let’s try it out.”

He picked up the television remote, and when the set turned

on, Adin saw Bran and Edward. Both grinned at him in what he

assumed was real time. Edward leaned toward the camera. “Hi,

Adin.”

Bran waved frantically. “Got it, Donte. It’s brilliant. You’re on

the big screen. I can see your… have you been getting busy? Oh,

ew
! That’s completely gross.”

Edward’s eyebrow shot up. “Seriously. I’m sure you realize

you are going to be using this with an impressionable young man.

I hope you have a modicum of—”

Adin waved him off. “No one buys that, coming from you,

Edward, so just give us a break.”

Donte left the room for a minute.

“It’s so good to see you Bran. How are you doing?”

“I started school, Adin. I go to your old high school. It’s all

right, and everything, but I miss shopping and hanging about

with you.”

“Me too.” Adin had to stop himself from putting his hand

on the screen over Bran’s. He really missed him. He wished he

could spend time with him, take him on errands. He missed the

long talks they’d had when Bran could still fumble around inside

his memories. “You won’t see inside my head anymore though.”

Bran’s face fell. “I know. And I liked it there, too. You’ve done

some pretty odd things, but your family was nice.”

Edward glanced up at this. “Have you seen Deana yet?”

“No. We’ve just talked on the phone.” When Edward started

to say something, Adin held his hand up. “Don’t look at me like

that. I don’t even know where to start.”

“You’d better start soon. She deserves the truth, and she

needs to hear it from you.”

“It will melt her brain. She’s a scientist.”

Tuan stepped out from somewhere behind Edward and off

camera. “Then maybe she already knows more than you think.

Have you ever considered that?”

Adin frowned. He hadn’t considered that at all, actually. “No.”

“Have you heard from Santos?” Tuan asked.

Donte returned to the room carrying a small table, on which

he began to set up a chess set.

“No we haven’t,” Adin admitted. “Donte?”

“No, and good riddance. Santos believed he should mentor

Adin. That insufferable—”

“I expect he’ll keep his distance now that Boaz isn’t keeping

us in touch anymore.”

“Boaz,” Donte growled. “Has anyone seen him?”

“No,” Tuan answered. “No one is really looking for him

either. It’s not illegal to do what he did, precisely, although there

are ways to address it in court. It could be considered a civil

crime. The case would be heard by a tribunal of supernatural

judges, privately.”

“It’s not a matter for the courts.” Donte gazed at Adin. “I

doubt I handled it wisely, but for the sake of Boaz’s parents, I let

him live. I hope I don’t come to regret that.”

Adin glanced over at his lover and the thought came to him,

unbidden, that Boaz had never, ever done anything—until the

moment he turned Adin—that was not the direct result of

Donte’s orders. He hated himself, but a tiny, painful part of his

heart worried that even now, Boaz was simply following orders

and staying away until Adin cooled down. He looked at the screen

and found Bran watching him closely.
Speculatively
. Adin had the

absurd idea that Bran was thinking along the same lines. The boy

looked back at Donte and his eyes narrowed.

“Donte—” he began, but Adin interrupted him.

“Look what we have here, Bran? My chess set?” He met

Bran’s gaze and held it. “What do you say to a game? I warn you,

my new vampire instincts are far more lethal than my human

ones were. I might not let you win this time.”

“As if,” Bran sneered, derailed for the moment. “That will

be the day, when you have to
let
me win. I kicked your arse in

France and I’ll be happy to do it again. Even long distance. No

fair coaching, Donte.”

“You’re on.” Adin and Bran argued over how to choose who

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