Notturno (16 page)

the sadness in his voice. “You can’t imagine that I wanted you

to experience that, Dr. Tredeger.”

Adin looked out the window. “No, I don’t suppose you

did.” He fidgeted with his watch. “What was that about, Boaz? I

thought you said that Donte marked me in some way as his

property. That no one would challenge him.’

“That would usually be the case, sir.” Boaz hesitated, as if

choosing his words very carefully. “It’s been my experience that

no one in this area would ever consider challenging Donte

Fedeltà.”

“So I’m special? I’m vampire crack?”

“No, sir, I doubt that. Well…I don’t think so. It appears

someone has decided to move on Donte, and you were in the

wrong place at the wrong time.”

“Ah.” Adin sighed. “My lucky day.”

108 Z.A. Maxfield

“I’m sorry, sir. I should have stayed closer. I didn’t see any

of this coming. I don’t know what Donte will say when he

sees—”

“Is that where we’re going? To Donte? What if I were to say

that I want to go back to the hotel, right now, Boaz? I don’t

want to see Donte.”

“I wouldn’t necessarily believe you.”

“I don’t want him to see me.” Adin held his shaking hands

out where he could see them. “Not like this.” He gingerly

probed a particularly painful place near his eye and imagined he

had a spectacular bruise. “Do I look as bad as I feel?”

“Probably.”

“Take me to the Kabuki, Boaz. There’s no point in Donte

seeing me when I look like—”

“We’re here, sir.” Boaz turned into the gate of what could

only be described as an estate. There was no sign or name at the

entrance, but the gates opened automatically, and Boaz

negotiated the long car through the narrow entry. He continued

along a tree-lined driveway until a spectacular house came into

view. It had the charm of a Tuscan holiday villa, a stone

structure with climbing vines of all shapes and colors covering

the walls on the outside, carefully pruned back around the

windows and doors. In the distance, lit with landscape lighting,

Adin could see the land, what seemed to be an orchard on the

right, and a garden on the left with a fountain and large, shady

trees. When Boaz stopped the limousine, the front door opened

and Donte swept out. He wore suit trousers and a white shirt,

and some sort of immensely luxurious, golden-colored robe that

hung open as he walked, whipping out behind him. Adin looked

immediately to the sky, but although he could see the first blush

of dawn, the sun wasn’t yet visible.

“Dear heaven, Adin,” Donte murmured as he opened the

car door. Adin all but fell out into his arms. “What have they

done to you?” He shot Boaz a speaking glance and helped Adin

to the entrance of the house. Boaz followed.

NOTTURNO
109

“Here,” Donte said, turning from the hallway to a large

room with a lit fireplace. “This place is always damp and cold,

no matter how Tuscan the architecture may appear.”

Donte deposited Adin in a large leather chair and left with

Boaz. He could hear their heated discussion, although it was

mostly hissed in whispers of Italian and what sounded like

Arabic. If Adin had felt better, he would have intervened. As it

was, he was unable to keep Donte from giving Boaz a dressing

down he didn’t deserve. When Donte returned, he was alone.

“Donte,” Adin said as Donte placed a heavy quilt over him.

“It wasn’t his fault. I gave him no choice in the matter.”

Donte’s eyes were hard. “Neither did I. But it appears that

he chose to placate you rather than follow my orders.”

“That’s not fair.”

“Isn’t it? What if they’d killed you?”

“I hardly think it likely they’d murder me on a dance floor

full of—”

“You know less than nothing,” Donte spat. “Boaz, however,

is fully cognizant of what could have happened to you.” He

seemed to look around for something. “Never mind. It is

finished. Where are my manners? May I get you something to

eat or drink?”

“No, thank you. I find I’m very tired.” Adin sighed. He

sensed the barest movement in the room, yet suddenly Donte

was kneeling next to his chair. He took one of Adin’s arms in

his hand, studying the tiny bite marks there. He rubbed a

delicate thumb over one shallow set.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Yes.” Donte waited.

“Why is it that sometimes I hear a noise in my head when

the undead are near, and sometimes I’m taken completely by

surprise.”

Donte considered this. “It’s like a rattlesnake…you

understand? A signal. Sometimes I hunt by stealth, and

110 Z.A. Maxfield

sometimes I use noise, like beaters, to warn or flush out my

prey. We all do this, in varying degrees.”

“I see. I thought…if I could tell when the undead were

around, I could protect myself. When I was attacked at the club,

I didn’t sense it coming. I didn’t know who they were until they

bit me.” Adin pressed his lips together in a white line. He’d

despised being a chew toy.

“I’m sorry about that,” Donte whispered. “I was vain. I

thought no one would harm you if you were under my

protection. I was wrong, caro, and you paid for that.” Donte

stroked Adin’s cheek, and he leaned into it a little.

“Is there anything I could do? Crucifixes?”

Donte shook his head.

“Holy water? Garlic is out, you already told me that.”

“Here,” said Donte, reaching into his pocket. He pressed

what looked to be a laser pointer into Adin’s hand. “I bought

this for you. I was going to give it to Boaz to pass along.”

Adin examined it and noticed it had a small oval-shaped

silver button on the side. He pressed it, and light illuminated the room like an exploding star, beginning at the pen itself, and

radiating outward, filling the entire space with a brilliant flash.

“
Fuck
, Adin!” Donte stepped heavily onto Adin’s foot. “By

all the gods! Are you
insane
? You just push any button you

find?”

Adin’s eyes were tearing, and he hunched over and placed

his palm over them. His foot hurt like the devil. “What the hell

was
that?”

“It’s a personal safety device. I cannot defend myself against

it, even if I know it’s coming. It will give you time to run.”

“Am I going to need to run?” Adin asked quietly through

the black clouds in his field of vision. “From you?”

Donte didn’t answer; instead he found Adin’s mouth and

pressed their lips together. He pulled Adin close and leaned in,

rubbing his face against Adin’s throat.

Donte stroked Adin’s hair. “They—”

NOTTURNO
111

“
Snacked
on me.” Adin cut him off. “Yes, I quite

understood. An amuse-bouche.”

“Oh,
Adin
.” Donte held him in a way Adin was certain he

could get used to all too quickly. “On a lighter note, it will be

fully five minutes before I can see again, but will be no time at

all before your eyes are back to normal.” He felt for Adin’s

hand and took it. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine, Donte, really.” Adin shifted in his chair, drawing

the quilt more tightly around him. Donte drew back. They

stayed like that in silence for a time.

Adin finally spoke. “I’m cold. Perhaps I could take a

shower? Then a few hours’ sleep, and I’ll be perfectly all right.”

“Yes, of course. I’ll have Boaz…” He turned back to Adin.

“I really am very sorry. This is something most unexpected. I

have never been challenged like that.”

“I see.”

“No, you don’t.” Donte’s eyes were soft and full of

mockery. “How could you?”

“I see that you didn’t mean for me to be hurt. That’s all I

need to know, Donte.” Adin’s throat hurt, and he looked away.

Adin could feel the tension leave his body as he enjoyed the

brief, unexpected moment of quiet companionship.

“Come.” Donte got up abruptly. “I’ll show you where you

can shower. Or would you prefer a bath?”

“No, a shower. I’d fall asleep in a bath and drown.”

“Not on my watch, Adin,” said Donte as he tugged on

Adin’s hand to lead him up a flight of stairs. Adin followed him,

noting the natural grace with which he moved, the sway of the

robe around his calves, and the breadth of his shoulders.

Adin followed. “Who says I’d let you watch?”

Donte stopped on the landing and turned to face him, an

amused smile playing about his mouth. He simply leaned over

and kissed Adin lightly before he led him the rest of the way.

Adin thought he heard him mutter “
pazzo
.”

112 Z.A. Maxfield

“Who are you calling a—” Donte turned again, and his

mouth descended on Adin’s, this time a strong brush of tender

lips, more, Adin thought, to shut him up than to incite any kind

of amorous feelings in him.

“The bathroom is through there,” Donte said. “One nice

thing about the nouveau-authentic Tuscan villa is the hot water

that comes from fifteen jets in the wall. Enjoy.” Donte opened

the door for him and ushered him in, but closed it again behind

him with a firm
snap
as he left.

Adin found himself alone in the modern, luxurious bath. He

walked to the sink to get a glimpse of his face in the mirror and

was shocked by what he saw. No wonder Donte had been

concerned. He appeared bloodless and ill. He carefully folded

the quilt and laid it on a cabinet top next to some towels.

The bruises around Adin’s left eye stood out in hideous

relief on his pale face. There were purple swellings on his jaw

and smudges under both eyes from lack of sleep. As he peeled

off the clothing he’d worn to the club, he laid it out carefully as it was all he had until he returned to the hotel. He placed his

phone and his hotel key card along with his watch and wallet on

a small shelf.

It took Adin a moment of study to ascertain how to turn on

the water, but once he did, he could well understand Donte’s

comment about it being a very pleasant thing. As soon as he

stepped into the marble-tiled shower, he was caressed by jets of

pulsing hot water. He adjusted the temperature and the force of

the spray, and then just put his hands on the wall and enjoyed it.

He let it swirl away the tension from his body and rinse his

anxiety down the drain. It soothed sore muscles, removed the

crusted, dried blood, and generally made him feel better than he

had in days. He sighed when he left the luxurious enclosure.

While he showered, someone had removed his clothing and

placed an impossibly large white terry robe in its place. It felt

soft and warm against his tingling skin. He emerged from the

shower to find Donte waiting patiently against the wall opposite

the bathroom door along the hall.

“Hello,” Donte said. “I trust you feel better?”

NOTTURNO
113

“Yes.”

“I’ve had Boaz make up a room. He’ll go into town and

retrieve your things later. In the meantime, he’s left a small tray of food and some kind of pain tablets, ibuprofen maybe, for

you to take. He said you would no doubt be sore when you

wake.” Donte led him to a small bedroom with large windows

overlooking the orchard. Avoiding the direct light, he drew the

drapes. “Shall I turn on the light?”

“Yes, please.” Adin thought that darkness was the last thing

he wanted right at that moment.

“You’re frightened?” Adin sat on the side of the modestly

sized bed. It was large but not a master suite. The room, in fact,

looked as though it had been created for a teenage boy. The

hint of a nautical theme played in the colors and the linens, and

the spare furnishings stood in contrast to large, robustly lovely

seascapes on the wall.

“Frightened? No, not really.” Adin lay on top of the covers.

Donte turned to the dresser and picked up a tray, which he

deposited on the side of the bed opposite the one Adin

occupied. He picked a grape off a cluster and held it out to

Adin, who shook his head.

Donte ate the grape himself, then spit the skin and the seeds

into his hand and wrapped them in the napkin. “At least the

tea,” he said, handing Adin the mug. “And perhaps the pain

reliever? You’ll thank Boaz later.”

“Yes,” said Adin, taking the pills and the mug. “Are we not

still on opposite sides of a quest? Isn’t this considered aid and

comfort to the enemy?”

Donte’s dark eyes held accusation. “You can’t still think I’m

the enemy.”

“No, I don’t.” Adin slipped the tablets into his mouth and

then sipped his tea to swallow them. “I really don’t. How goes

the search?” He replaced the mug on the tray and put it on the

nightstand.

114 Z.A. Maxfield

Donte cuffed him lightly on the shoulder, and Adin held his

wince inside. “As if I would tell my archrival,” Donte said in

that deep, rich voice.

“I have a confession to make.”

“What?” Donte went still.

“I began a translation of the journal in Los Angeles. I

photographed it. I have it stored on my laptop. It’s not lost—”