Notturno (12 page)

throughout his body, just under his skin. He looked across the

street and saw a man standing in the shadows of the alley

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77

between two shops, where a delivery truck sat waiting for men

to offload crates of vegetables. The man was tall, with light skin

and ebony-colored hair, worn long, past his shoulders. He had

on supple dark dress trousers and a gray sweater, over which he

wore a black leather trench coat.

The man stood motionless and stared at Adin, his hands

tucked casually in his pockets. Not Donte, but
like
Donte. The shock registered, and he barely had time to put a hand out to

the wall beside him before his knees buckled and he fell to the

ground.

Dimly, he was aware of Edward shouting his name, then

nothing.

When Adin regained consciousness, he was in the limousine,

which was parked illegally on Sutter, under the watchful eyes of

both Boaz and Edward. He felt like an idiot.

“And you…and you…and you were there,” he quipped.

“And I only knew I wanted to go home…”

“Shut up,” said Edward, testily. “It’s not funny. You scared

the hell out of me.” He got out his phone and dialed a number,

presumably Tuan’s, and got out of the limo to talk privately.

“Dr. Tredeger?” asked Boaz. “You okay, sir?” He spoke

quietly, concern etched on his face.

“Fine,” said Adin brusquely. “I’m fine. I guess I’m going to

have to see about my blood sugar. That’s twice I’ve felt faint in

the last week.” He straightened his sweater, which had bunched

around him, he guessed, when they’d loaded him in the limo.

He sat up carefully, exploring how he felt. He remembered the

buzzing sensation he’d had when he’d seen the man. His heart

felt like ice. There were more of
them
. He slumped back against the seat. Boaz handed him a water bottle. He nodded his

thanks.

Somehow, in the brief period of time he’d known Donte,

known
of
Donte, it never occurred to him that there might be more. Adin accepted, albeit unwillingly, a world in which

vampires could exist; indeed, he accepted that Donte did exist.

Adin had offered himself to Donte, knowing full well that if he

did it, he would be slamming the door on the world he’d known

78 Z.A. Maxfield

for his entire life. But he’d never thought this far ahead. There

were others, not just Donte. There were whole legions, maybe,

of things out there that he’d never believed in that he had to

make room for now, in his imagination, surely, and maybe in his

life.

“Boss?” asked a worried Boaz. “You’re sweating. Do you

think we should go to the hospital?”

“No!” Adin said, louder than he meant to. “No. Just…take

me home, okay? Back to the hotel. Then take Edward wherever

he needs to go.”

“I’m not just going to leave you…”

“Boaz, maybe I have a touch of the flu, nothing more

serious. I promise. Please, just do as I ask. I have a lot to think about. Bring me takeout when you return to the hotel, okay?”

“All right,” said Boaz, looking at him speculatively, when

Edward climbed back into the car. Boaz still didn’t take his eyes

off Adin, looking as if he were going to say something but

remaining silent.

“Feeling better?” Edward asked, looking closely at Adin’s

face. “You need to rest, Adin.”

“I know.” Adin patted the seat next to him. “I only just

came back from Frankfurt a few days ago. I really haven’t been

taking care of myself. I’m sure I’m just run-down.” He sighed.

“Boaz is going to drop me off and then take you wherever

you’d like to go. If you’re feeling motherly, maybe you can help

him choose something to bring me for dinner, okay?”

“I can do that.” Edward nodded at Boaz, who was backing

out of the limo door. When Boaz closed the door behind him,

Edward said plaintively, “I want a Boaz. He’s so cool! Do you

think he would drive me if I needed him every once in a while?”

Adin smiled. “I’ll bet he’d be delighted. He’s very efficient.”

“And he didn’t even get mad when I…” Edward bit his lip

on a snigger.

“I’ll bet you’re not exactly the first,” Adin remarked as the

car pulled away from the curb.

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79

Edward tried to suppress a smile. He got serious a minute

later, gazing at Adin with naked anxiety. “Something’s different

about you. You’d tell me if…” He didn’t finish. He didn’t have

to.

“I’m healthy,” stated Adin. “I promise. I’m fine. I’ve had a

shock with this manuscript, and then with the theft… My heart

feels broken.”

“Oh, Adin,” Edward murmured sympathetically. “I know.
I

know.
But don’t bother telling that to Tuan. It’s like trying to teach a rock to sing.”

“I believe that.” Adin took Edward’s outstretched hand in

his. “I’m glad I’m here with you.”

Edward smiled his wide, white smile and chattered all the

way back to the hotel. Adin tuned him out. There was so much

he had to find out. More of them. There were
more
. And while Adin could cope with a world that had Donte in it, he was

wholly unprepared to deal with vampires as a large and lethal

group of undead people who actually existed. Suddenly he

wanted Donte with such longing it took his breath away. Was it

a trick? Donte had used fear with him before, had made it seem

as though he were the only safe haven in a world gone crazy. It

was part of the glamour. But Donte was not there, and in his

heart, Adin knew it. This was something entirely new. Someone

entirely different.

This was the devil Adin didn’t know.

Boaz dropped Adin off at the Kabuki, where he retreated

immediately into his room. He showered quickly and slipped

into the luxurious robe, which was large enough to drown him

in its silk and terry opulence. He poured a Bushmills and looked

out the window at the street below. The week before, even the

day before, this city would have seemed as familiar to him as his

running shoes. Warm, recognizable, and broken in to the shape

of his foot, molded for his comfort. Now it was as if those

same comfortable shoes had taken off running down the street

by themselves.

What was out there in this city, arguably his hometown, that

he never knew existed? How ignorant did he yet remain? Was

80 Z.A. Maxfield

there more lurking unnoticed in the alleys and side streets than

vampires?

As Adin watched the street below, he caught sight of a man

on the sidewalk who wore a dark suit and walked with a

briefcase. He walked at a brisk pace, like a million other

businessmen in the city at twilight doing the same. But when he

was exactly across the street from where Adin stood, he

stopped, looked up directly at Adin’s window, and smiled. With

shaking hands, Adin shut the shoji screens. It wasn’t the same

man, but like the others, he was beginning to sense the threat.

The man from the liquor store, the man from Chinatown, and

the man outside only moments before felt the same. Like

Donte. He sat quietly on the velvet chaise longue, neither

noticing nor caring that the light was fading, until he was left in almost-complete darkness.

A knock concussed the silence. Adin tied his robe more

tightly around him and answered it. Boaz stood there, a brown

paper shopping bag in one hand and a bottle in the other.

“Dinner, sir”—he smiled—“compliments of your friend

Edward.”

“Thank you,” said Adin, uncertain what to do. “Come in,

Boaz, unless you have something else to do. You could join

me.”

“Thank you, sir, that’s very kind of you,” said Boaz as he

placed the food on the low glass cocktail table. “I’m afraid I

can’t, though. You did say you wouldn’t require me this

evening, didn’t you?”

“Yes. I’m not going out.”

“Very good, then. I could open the wine for you, if you

like.” Boaz pulled a Swiss Army knife out of his jacket pocket.

“Thank you,” said Adin. “This is really quite the royal

treatment.”

Boaz remained distantly polite. “I find having a wine opener

useful, as no one can fly with one anymore.”

“I see. That’s good thinking.”

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81

“I believe you’ll find I’m rather useful in lots of ways.” Boaz

gave him an enigmatic look and then started pulling out the

food Edward sent. “Edward believed you might enjoy some

seafood.”

“Did he?” Adin lifted the Styrofoam lid to uncover some

sort of fish with a citrus glaze and vegetables. “Oh, yeah. He

might have been right.” He grinned.

“And sir?” Boaz said, as he was about to open the door to

leave. “Don’t hesitate to call, even if…” He trailed off.

“Even if what, Boaz?” asked Adin.

“Even if a request sounds…crazy.”

Adin looked at him for a long time, wondering if he could

possibly know the dark turn his life had taken. He shook his

head. “All right,” he said, dismissing Boaz, and the thought, for

the night. “I’ll call if I need you.”

“Very good, sir.”

After he left, Adin decided Boaz’s formality was as much to

tease him as it was the professional demeanor he presented to

the world. Edward was right: Adin liked having a Boaz.

Much later that night, Adin dreamed again. He tossed

warmly in the extravagant bedding, listening to the music in his

blood. This wasn’t Donte’s song; it didn’t speak to him of sun-

warmed earth and sex. Of skin that smelled like herbs. It didn’t

feel like Donte, like swimming naked in the Mediterranean amid

a thousand silvery fish. The bloodsong this night was dark and

angry and reeked of death. Several times, Adin woke, only to

turn back over, disoriented, into that dream-filled sleep again.

Adin woke at nine a.m. with a headache and dry mouth. He

pulled on his spa robe and left the room to get coffee from the

continental breakfast buffet. He smiled pleasantly at the maids

as he left his room; they were just exiting the room next to his.

Finding a newspaper to read while he sipped his coffee, he gave

them time to do their work. The hotel guests came and went,

some chatting with him amiably, some quiet, until he finished

his paper and a third cup of coffee. Adin hoped he didn’t look

as bad as he felt. He folded the paper up under his arm and

82 Z.A. Maxfield

walked back to his room. He used his key card to enter and

tossed the paper down on the desk. It came as a terrible

surprise when a hand snaked out from behind him and grabbed

him by the neck.

Adin felt like a rag as he was slammed against the wall and

held there, his breath cut off in his throat.

“Where is it?” someone asked him through the little black

spots dancing before his eyes. His attacker must have realized

that he couldn’t speak, because the pressure on his neck was

loosened slightly.

“Where is what?” croaked Adin, stunned.

“The manuscript.
Notturno.
What have you done with it?”

“Whoa,” Adin said, finally getting enough leverage to shove

back a little. “You’re too late. It was stolen from me in Los

Angeles.”

That hard hand slammed him back. “You lie!”

“Sorry,” said Adin angrily. “It’s gone. Somebody stole it.”

Adin was released as his attacker ran his hands through his

dirty hair. “Oh shit,” the man muttered. Adin began to move,

but instantly he was sorry. The man lashed out, punching him

hard in the gut. Adin doubled over as the man began to pace.

“Oh shit,” the man said again, turning to grab Adin’s hair

and pull it hard, yanking him to standing again, his face inches

away. “You’d better not be fucking with me. Give. It. To. Me.”

To punctuate this, he gave Adin’s hair a vicious tug and

slammed his head against the wall.

Adin could smell coffee and something else, something rank

like wet dog, coming off the man. He winced and wondered if

his hair was coming out in patches. “It was stolen from my

hotel room in Los Angeles,” he said again. “There’s a police

report. Check if you don’t believe me.”

They hung there, suspended in time, as Adin watched the

man try to decide what to do. Suddenly Adin’s attacker shifted

on his feet, and Adin knew, without a doubt, that the man

meant to kill him. Hands wrapped around his throat, squeezing

84 Z.A. Maxfield

hard enough to bruise. Something desperate inside Adin came

to life, and he grabbed the metal lamp on the hotel desk and

swung it in a huge arc, using every ounce of strength he

possessed. It crashed down on his attacker, who barely seemed

fazed by the blow. The man hurled them both to the floor.

Then Adin noticed a sound, something low and angry, a

rumbling growl that didn’t sound human. For his part, he

couldn’t speak, could make hardly any sound at all, save a kind

of mewling as he struggled to remain conscious.

Unexpectedly the terrible weight of his assailant was gone,

and Adin lifted his head to see Boaz pulling him away. The

small man shouted something to him that sounded like “eyes”