Notturno (13 page)

even as he shoved Adin away with his foot. With a
pop
, light so bright it blinded Adin filled the room. Things crashed and fell

and roared, and when at last he could see again, his vision filled

with black spots that floated and moved and obscured

everything around him. Boaz knelt over someone who lay on

the floor with a thick wooden stick protruding from his chest.

Adin closed his eyes, blinking them rapidly to regain his sight.

The contents of his stomach roiled, threatening to disgorge. He

opened his eyes again to see the man who’d jumped him

dissolve into powdery grit on the richly carpeted hotel floor.

Boaz was shaking his head, disgusted. “Damn vampires.” He

looked up at Adin. “Are you all right, sir?”

Adin couldn’t reply; he just lay there dazed.

“Sir? Sir, can you hear me?” Boaz leaned over him, rubbing

circles in his hand.

“You…”

“You’ve had a terrible shock, sir,” said Boaz, helping Adin

to sit upright. “Let me get you some water.” The little man left

him, and Adin heard water running. When Boaz returned with a

glass, Adin drank from it. He touched his sore throat gingerly,

swearing. That was going to leave marks.

“How the hell did you get in here?”

Boaz looked guilty. “I took the liberty of removing your

spare key card, sir, from the little envelope on the desk last

night. When I brought you your meal.”

NOTTURNO
85

“But…why?” Adin’s head hurt, and nothing since he’d

woken up made any sense.

Boaz looked to where the vampire had been lying and

shrugged.

“
Crap,
” muttered Adin.

“One good thing is no corpses,” Boaz said brightly. “You

gotta love killing a vampire. Hardly any cleanup at all.”

He looked to the floor where there was nothing left but

some granules of sandy dust and shook his head. It didn’t bear

thinking about for the moment. “Am I the only one on the

planet who never knew they existed?” he asked, more

rhetorically than anything.

“Oh no, sir,” said Boaz. “Most people never know. You

don’t live to be five hundred years old like Donte by being high

profile. Maybe one out of a thousand people ever find

out…and most of them learn the hard way, if you know what I

mean. Not just as a snack, which can be… Well, I’m sure you

know. But as a prix fixe meal, if you get my meaning.”

Adin digested this. “Wait, you said Donte! Do you know—”

“Sir, please don’t get so overwrought. It would be best if

you would lie down on the bed, don’t you think?”

“Oh, all right.” Adin allowed himself to be pulled up from

the floor. Once he was comfortable on the bed, he asked, “But

how did
he
get in here? I know Donte couldn’t come into my

room unless I invited him.”

“Ah.” Boaz looked around. “Probably the maids. He only

had to be invited in, after all. Not by you personally.” Adin

thought about that. Then what on earth had stopped Donte

from…?

“Who the hell are you?” asked Adin. “You’re no limo

driver.”

“No. Well. As to that, technically, I am. I was hired to drive

you. You hired me yourself, remember?”

“Boaz…” Adin warned.

86 Z.A. Maxfield

“Yes, all right. It was Donte Fedeltà. I received a phone

call…”

“Donte? How the hell did he know where I would be? I

certainly didn’t tell him.” Adin stood up and paced in agitation.

“I imagine he overheard you. They have excellent hearing.

He phoned me and told me to watch out for you. When I

discovered that you were having the hotel car pick you up from

the airport, I just… Well. Let’s say I impressed on the driver

that he needed to go someplace else for a few days.”

“But—”

Boaz held his hand up. “I take it you’re new to all this?”

Adin nodded. “Suffice it to say that there are more things in

heaven and earth, Horatio, than are…”

“Oh, piss off! I want to know what you’re doing here.”

Boaz shot him a look. “I received a call from Donte, for

whom my family has worked from time to time, telling me that

he would like me to see that you stay out of trouble.”

“So he can go after my manuscript. You’re fired.”

“You can’t fire me. I don’t work for you. I work for Donte,

and I understood him to mean that I should keep you safe. And

look how it turned out.”

“You should have mentioned that you were working for

Donte,” said Adin, “before
I
paid you for your services.”

“Seriously, how would it have looked if I didn’t charge you

money? Wouldn’t you have been a little suspicious?” He put out

a placating hand. “Adin. I’m here to see to things like what just

happened. You’d be dead right now if I hadn’t intervened.”

Adin slumped into the desk chair. “It seems I owe you my

thanks,” he said quietly.

“I don’t need your thanks. Donte was concerned that you

might run into trouble. The manuscript that was stolen from

you remains the prize in a contest between three very powerful

entities.”

“But why?”

NOTTURNO
87

“That I couldn’t tell you.” Boaz held up a hand before Adin

could speak. “Not because I don’t want to, but because I don’t

know. The only thing Donte told me when we spoke is that he

would take it very much to heart if something bad were to

happen to you.”

Adin stopped what he was doing. That Donte was

concerned felt…kind of nice. Maybe even warm. “I see.” Adin

remained in the desk chair where he sat thinking. “Boaz, can

you explain…? When I’m near Donte, I feel something. It’s as

though he calls me. The same feeling came over me when I saw

the man yesterday on Sutter Street. This morning, though, I

came into my room and felt absolutely nothing. No warning, no

threat. As though I were completely alone.”

Boaz seemed to consider this. “Donte is a very old and

powerful predator. For someone whom he has marked as his,

it’s like a brand, yes?” He put his finger on Adin’s arm and

mimicked the motion and the
sizzle
sound of burning iron on skin. “Other old vampires, like the one you saw yesterday, react

to that. It may please them to test it, to see its strength. The

man in your room was new, only a baby by any vampire

standard. He had a job to do and wished to fulfill it. He had

neither the subtlety nor the intuition of an older vampire. He

would have killed you and not given it a second thought, simply

because you didn’t provide what he was told to acquire.”

“Donte marked me?” Adin was incredulous and angry.

“Did he feed from you?”

“Well, yes…but—”

“Then he marked you.” Boaz got up. “Every vampire worth

a damn in this city will know to whom you belong, and none

will bother you…except those with a death wish.”

“What?”

“Never mind that, sir.” Boaz’s customary pleasant smile

firmly affixed to his face. “Where to this morning?”

“I said you were fired,” said Adin as he headed for his closet

to find some clothes.

88 Z.A. Maxfield

“That’s what I like about you, sir.” Boaz turned away with a

smirk on his face. “So droll.”

They rode the elevator together, and Boaz continued to

deny pleasantly that he had any intention of leaving Adin’s

employ. As the doors slid open, Boaz’s cell phone rang, and

Boaz held a hand up and walked a short distance away to

answer it. Adin went to the registration desk to pick up a

complimentary green tea–flavored mint, when he looked up to

see Boaz coming toward him.

“It’s for you,” he said.

“Me?” asked Adin, perplexed. He took the phone and said,

“Tredeger.”

“Caro,” said a rich voice. “Tell me you are unharmed.”

“I’m fine.” He rolled his eyes at Boaz, looking around to see

who could hear. “Didn’t Boaz tell you? He…eradicated the

problem.”

“He told me.” Donte sounded grim. “I wanted to hear it

from you. I shouldn’t like it at all if anything happened to you,

Adin.”

“Why?” asked Adin. “I no longer have the manuscript.”

“Don’t be a shit, Adin,” said Donte impatiently. “You must

know I care for you.”

“No meals-on-wheels in L.A.?”

There was a protracted silence on the other end.

“I’m sorry.” Adin picked at a tiny thread that he needed to

cut off the waistband of his trousers.

Donte sighed. “I wish we’d had more time together. You

have no idea how rare that is for me.”

“I guess you usually just dine and dash? Me too.” Adin

swallowed hard. “Donte, I just realized there is so much I didn’t

know.”

“This frightens you, yes?” Adin could hear him smile.

“Allow Boaz to watch over you, caro. For me. Do this, all

right?”

NOTTURNO
89

“All right,” said Adin, stalling. He did not want to hang up.

“Look, will you—”

“I have to go,” Donte said abruptly. “Please watch your

surroundings. Don’t be an idiot, più amato.”

Adin closed his eyes at the endearment.
Best beloved.
He

started to say something, but then Donte hung up. It worried

him how much he felt like he’d been disconnected from the

only important thing on earth.

Boaz drove Adin to the Alamo Square Park neighborhood

where Edward and Tuan lived, ironically, only a few houses

down from where Adin lived when his family had finally settled

in San Francisco. He took the porch steps up to their colorful

Victorian and knocked on the door.

Edward answered, holding his hand up. He had his cell

phone to his ear and was talking earnestly in French, while two

men in white coveralls behind him waited patiently. Adin

walked past the foyer into the parlor and noticed Edward was

having it painted. Everything was covered, and the men had

begun masking, with blue tape, everything that wasn’t to be

painted. Adin had painted his own room as a teenager and knew

how painstaking masking all the crown molding and chair rails

could be. He smiled at the man who was on his knees taping

around the fireplace mantle.

“Adin.” Edward hung up the phone as he sailed past the

parlor and motioned for Adin to follow. They walked together

down a small hallway and up the stairs into a bedroom-turnedoffice. “Tuan called this morning. He says there’s not a sound out there about your manuscript, which is probably a good

thing, because he thinks whoever stole it hasn’t moved it out of

California yet.”

Adin entered the tiny but elegant room and dropped into the

seat meant for visitors in front of Edward’s exquisite mahogany

writing desk. “That’s good, I guess.” Adin fingered one of

Edward’s foiled and folded business cards. “I’m feeling a little

hopeless, though. I keep thinking that I’m languages and

authentication. Not exactly an action figure. What am I going to

do?”

“That’s not productive,” Edward said, going to a tiny alcove

in the wall where a coffeemaker sat. He poured two coffees and

brought one to Adin, then went back to retrieve cream, sugar,

and tiny, ornate silver spoons. “Of course you can’t be expected

92 Z.A. Maxfield

to steal it back or anything like that, but if we find out where it is, Tuan can alert the authorities. Once it’s recovered your

problems are solved.”

Adin took a sip. “I know, and I’m grateful. I am. Still, I can’t

help but feel…”

Edward smiled. “Tuan promised he’d call my cell phone if

there’s anything new. Let’s wait and see, all right?”

Adin relaxed in his chair and looked around. There was a

wonderful Degas ballerina sketch on the wall that Adin knew

was genuine. Edward might appear to be an enfant terrible, but

he knew his business, all facets of the art world, really, and it

reassured Adin to know he was in capable hands. Holding his

cup and saucer, Edward got up and wandered idly as he talked.

When he looked out the window, he gasped.

“What?” Adin jumped to his feet, startled.

“You left Boaz outside? How
could
you?” Edward was

already skipping down the stairs when Adin placed his own cup

down on the table. Moments later, Edward returned with a

sheepish, out-of-sorts Boaz, whom he was pulling along like a

toy.

“Really, sir, it’s fine for me to stay with the car. I have a

crossword puzzle and a book of sudoku.”

“You can’t really mean to say you’d rather do that than—”

Edward’s phone rang, and he picked it up. Boaz looked

helplessly at Adin, who grinned. Edward moved out of the

room for privacy.

“There’s coffee,” said Adin. Boaz merely looked at him. “Or

tea. You really can relax. I’m not the king of the undead. I don’t

expect you to behave like a sixteenth-century vassal.”

“Donte doesn’t expect that either,” said Boaz. “He does,

however, expect that I do my job well, and how can I if I’m

having tea in here and not watching the street?”

Adin changed the subject. “How long have you known

him?”

“Donte? All my life. I’ve never
not
known him. The year I

was born, he was in Lebanon for one of his import businesses