Deep Deliverance: The Deep Series, Book 3 (21 page)

Chapter Thirty-Three

“I
swear by all that I hold sacred.” Donte held both hands up in a placating gesture. “I had no clue what Boaz was up to.”

“That’s the truth,” Boaz admitted. “Donte really did believe I’d grown jealous and left his employ.”

“I said I’d never lie to you again, and I have not.” Donte sat on the cocktail table facing Adin. He picked up Adin’s hand and brushed his l
ips over the knuckles. “I swear it by all that’s sacred to me.”

“I’ll take a lie detector test if you like,” added Boaz.

“Mm.” Harwiche’s vicious attack the night before made it difficult for Adin to speak. He rasped, “You’d probably rig the machine so you’d pass it whether you were lying or not.”

Boaz glowed with pride. “I would.”

“I believe you.” Donte turned Adin’s head to get a closer look at his wound, causing him to wince. “But it was a terrible thing to do to Donte. He was very unhappy.”

“I’m sorry.” Boaz’s perceived betrayal had devastated Donte. He hadn’t been acting. He’d been hurt badly. “I thought I saw Harwiche the day of his funeral. And I was certain of it when we buried Sahar. But I needed proof so you would believe me. I was not imagining things.”

Adin lay on the sofa in the sitting room of their suite at the Ritz, being pampered by everyone he knew, except of course Bran, who was still in San Francisco with Edward, but whose face filled the big-screen television, thanks to FaceTime and Apple TV.

“You look like hell, Adin.” Edward narrowed his eyes. “Isn’t your sister still working for Walkeil? You should have her get you some moisturizer or something. Concealer.”

“It’s too big a job for that, I’m afraid,” Deana said as she waved
hello
to Edward. “He needs one of those magic erasers they use for scrubbing concrete.”

“I beg your pardon?” Adin frowned at her.

“Adin looks magnificent to me.” Donte’s eyes shone with real happiness. “Ciao, belo.”

Who could doubt that face?
Adin smiled back at him. “Ciao, amore.”

“When did you know about Harwiche?” Tuan asked Boaz.

“I didn’t know it was him for certain until after he planted the bomb in Donte’s car. I saw him running away after he detonated it. That was terrible. I truly believed one or both of you were killed.”

“Why didn’t you tell me about this?” Donte looked furious. It was going to take a lot of work on Boaz’s part to fix what he’d broken.

“I wanted to catch him at it, not warn him away.”

Donte’s gaze hardened. “Never allow danger anywhere near Adin again.”

Boaz flinched. “Donte—”

“Swear yourself to Adin Tredeger.” Donte’s words left no room for ambiguity. “Swear an oath of loyalty, or leave, this time for good.”

“All right.” Boaz met Donte’s anger with a resigned smile. He knelt at Donte’s feet, and without taking his eyes off Donte’s, he kissed Adin’s ring. “I swear by almighty God that if I can protect Adin Tredeger with my life, or serve him with my death, I will.”

Everyone in the room had gone so silent, Adin could hear the traffic from the street.

“So be it.” Donte nodded. “Rise.”

Boaz got to his feet and Donte kissed both his cheeks.

Boaz turned to Adin. “I’m your man, just as I am Donte’s.”

“Just the thing I need.” Adin rolled his eyes. “How nice.”

“You look hungry, sir.” Boaz tilted his head and gave him his most sarcastic, phoniest smile. “Perhaps an egg dish?”

“I can’t eat eggs anymore, thank God.”

“I know that, sir. That’s why I’ve taken the liberty of inviting…ah…a guest.”

“Uh-oh. That’s Boaz-speak for ‘humans should probably leave if they don’t want to be sick’,” Adin warned.

“That’s my cue.” Deana pushed herself up out of the chair she’d been sitting in and headed for the door. “I’m persuaded that shopping is my only course of action at this point.”

“Bring me back a nice scarf so I can hide my scars,” Adin called after her.

“Pfeh.” She waved that off. “You won’t have scars the next time I see you, you bastard. How long before I look older than you, do you think?”

“I…” Adin teased. “I’ll take the fifth.”

“Oh, you…” One of her shoes flew by his head. She stomp-limped across the room to pick it up and then she left, muttering about ungrateful brothers and their bloodsucking boyfriends.

Adin rested against the cushions. Outside, another Los Angeles night was falling. Streaks of red and gold still painted the western horizon, and above them, a gradient of blues turned to the purple-black of a new bruise. “How is Barrett doing?”

“He’s in counseling.” Tuan sat on the chair Deana had vacated. “Things are tough for him right now. He’s grieving.”

“God, how I wish things could have been different for him.”

“Given the situation, the council is likely to be lenient. They’ll make allowances because he tried to warn you when his father and sister were holding him hostage.”

Adin nodded. “He’ll be by himself from now on. Does he have any other family?”

“I’m checking into that. Probably some distant relatives. Felids aren’t like wolves. He may actually do better on his own.”

“Tell Tuan he needs to come home.” Edward called from the television screen. “Bran and I miss him.”

“He’s right.” Adin glanced back toward Donte and Boaz, who were arguing in Italian. “I’m not alone anymore. You’re done here. You should go.”

“Now that you’re back among the living?” Tuan’s smile was warm and tender. “No hiding out in the mountains anymore. We were worried about you.”

“I guess I don’t do so well with change,” Adin admitted.

“You know what I think?” Tuan asked. “I think that everyone has a challenge and a choice. You get what you get, and then you have to make the best of it.”

“Yeah. You’re right.”

“Harwiche had to chase anyone he thought got a little more than he did.” Tuan shrugged. “He definitely only saw the challenge and his choice was to be miserable.”

“I understand,” Adin said thickly. “I may have some challenges I didn’t expect, but I also have a million things to be grateful for. I’ll choose happiness.”

“Good.” Tuan leaned over and kissed the top of Adin’s head. No rough tongue this time. Adin laughed because this kiss tickled too.

Tuan turned to the television screen. “Leave the light on, baby. I’m coming home.”

Edward made a fist and thumped it against his heart while Bran wished Tuan a safe trip. Then the screen winked to black.

“Bye, Adin.” Tuan gave his arm a pat.

“Until next time.” Adin waved as Tuan left.

Donte and Boaz turned to him. It was hard to see more than their silhouettes against the fading light. “Are you two plotting to take over the world?”

“Not anytime soon.” Boaz was still very pleased with himself. Adin would sort that out soon enough.

A tap on the door and a shouted, “Room service,” drew his attention.

He glanced Donte’s way as Boaz answered the door. “Should I feel alarmed?”

All Adin could see from where he sat on the couch was the white tablecloth and wheels. Boaz signed the check and opened the door wide. The cart rolled in, with—

“Good night, gentlemen.” Boaz closed the door behind him.

“In all the time I’ve been doing this,” said Humpty Dumpty, “This has to be the weirdest request I’ve ever gotten.”

He wasn’t just a man in an egg costume, although that would have been very amusing.

But no.

This
man in
this
egg costume had long, thin legs in striped stockings. He wore a red velvet waistcoat. A three-minute timer dangled from his watch fob and an extra-large monocle covered one gigantic blue eye.

Underneath the egg suit there was a man who was big and handsome and ruddy cheeked. He knew exactly what he was getting into here. And he smelled just
delicious.

“Oh my,” he said, before he rolled off the cart. “I’m going to fall!”

This guy was legit. A
method
actor.

Donte smiled at Adin, whose stomach growled just thinking about…things. He caught Adin’s hand and helped him up off the couch. Adin wrapped his arms around Donte’s waist, pressed his face into his neck. All of a sudden he felt anxious.

“Don’t worry, caro.”

“What if I lose myself again?”

“I’ll find you.” Donte guided him to their roly-poly treat, who lay on his back, pretending to be broken.

“Help! I’ve fallen and I can’t get up!”

“Have no fear, Adin.” Donte’s smile was kindness. It was love. It was
sunshine
. “I’ll be right here beside you, always. You’ll never be lost again.”

Adin glanced at Humpty Dumpty and let his teeth drop.

Sunshine… Meh.

Who needs the real thing when love can make you feel this way?

Epilogue

La Serenissima.
Venice

Moonlight shimmered off the water, reflecting onto the underside of bridges and each ancient building as they passed. There was nowhere in the world like Venice for the exquisite play of light. Adin sat opposite Donte even though he’d have liked to curl up on the bench beside him but given the Venetian mayor’s infamous declarations against gays, Adin was content to slide his foot over to greet his lover’s while acting the straight tourist.

They hadn’t spoken since they’d climbed aboard. Perhaps this wasn’t the best idea after all.

Donte’s cigar winked like a hot coal as he drew on it. “I love you, of course, but this is spectacularly—what is the term?
Cheesy.
Even for you.”

Adin wasn’t deterred. “We are on our honeymoon and this is Venice. Ergo…”

“Must we sit so far apart? We should have gone to Prague. Or Paris.”

“We’ve been to Paris. Prague will be nice when we get around to it. I admit, I will like Venice better when it catches up to the rest of the world.” While most of Western Europe had laws in place recognizing same-sex marriages—even Ireland, for God’s sake—Italy still lagged behind. “This is nice though. Tranquil.”

“Yes.”

Adin wasn’t about to dangle his hand in the canal water, but it seemed like that kind of moment. He should reach out and touch everything. He should let the light and the water and the faint scent of genteel decay fill up every cell of his body.

The things of the world were so very…alive.

Alive and ephemeral. Unlike him.

He was alive and he was not.

He was in love.

He was in Venice.

It was his responsibility to be in the moment as he’d never been before.

“What are you thinking?”

“Deep, terrible thoughts about the nature of life and death and all the things in between.”

“Oh, those.” Donte wrinkled his nose. “I was hoping you were having a sex fantasy.”

“That too,” Adin admitted. He’d far rather have paid the gondolier for his silence and ridden Donte’s cock as they slid beneath the Bridge of Sighs. It would be legendary to fuck while the bells of St. Mark’s sang their song. They’d fed earlier in the evening, and now, the thought of meeting his other needs sped all that rich blood straight to his cock. He shifted uncomfortably. “Perhaps this was a bad idea after all.”

“Say the word, and we can go back to the hotel and make love until it’s time to fly home.”

“But we’re in Venice. It’s sinking. What with the accelerating pace of global warming, we should probably enjoy it while we can.”

“I’ll enjoy Venice far more from our bed.”

“Oh, all right.” Adin gave up. He supposed once he’d lived as long as Donte had, architecture, art, and even the shimmer of light on water might be old hat.

But love…their love…was new. It was timeless. It was everything.

Donte spoke to the gondolier, who nodded. He turned his attention back to Adin. “Before we go, I have a gift for you.”

“Yeah?” Adin loved Donte’s gifts. His lover was a magpie and he’d collected every little thing that pleased him over the course of his long life. He had warehouses full of extraordinary items: books, musical instruments, snuffboxes, letters, art, jewelry, glass. God alone knew what true treasures Donte had lying around gathering dust. Adin was only beginning to realize that cataloguing the collections would be several lifetimes’ worth of work. For an avid reader and historian, the job was a dream come true.

“You’re familiar with the concept of
memento mori
, yes?”

“Of course, reflection on the transience of life.” Adin leaned back against his cushions. “The practice had a really grim heyday in the Victorian era when people had themselves photographed with their dead loved ones. I’ll wager that’s when commercial air freshener got its start.”

“In theory, it was almost endearing. In practice, you are entirely correct. It was grim.” Donte removed a box from his pocket and handed it over. He seemed to hesitate. “I had this made for you. Perhaps it isn’t… I don’t know if it will please you or make you sad. I’ve held on to it because I was uncertain.”

“That must be new for you.” Adin took the box from him. In the gondola’s lantern light it appeared to be made of black velvet. Jewelry? He opened it and found a broach of some kind—a small but heavy octagon of glass framed by a bezel of gold and jet. He recognized what it held inside it immediately, a tiny Celtic knot, fashioned from dark human hair. “Oh.”

“Turn it over. It’s inscribed.”

Adin did as he was told. He had to use his phone as a flashlight, a distinctly unromantic thing to be doing on a moonlit drift through the canals, but Donte had asked. He turned it over and found a sturdy post-and-clutch backing. Perhaps it was an elaborate lapel pin? How very Donte.

He had to squint to make out the inscription.

“In Memoriam Sahar.” Oh…

Oh…

He’d believed the pin to be an antique, but now he looked closer, the hair was soft and dark—the exact shade of Sahar’s. He remembered how those lovely silken strands felt as they drifted through his fingers.

Adin swallowed hard. “It’s beautiful.”

“Do you really like it?” Donte asked. “Or are you only saying that because you wish to be polite? I won’t be hurt if you put it away and never look at it again. It’s—”

“It’s beautiful,” Adin reassured. “Really.

Donte gave a little cough. “It’s a bit overly sentimental.”

Adin couldn’t hide his smile as he rubbed his fingers over the inscription. “As are you, lover.”

“Perhaps it’s too Victorian a notion for a twentieth-century man.”

“Not at all. I
love
it. And I love you for thinking of it. Where on earth did you find someone who could make such a thing?”

“There are those who still ply the trade among us. When Kind loses a human he or she loves, they often keep something like this as a reminder.”

“I see.” It made sense. Donte had said everyone he’d ever loved was dead. The many losses had been terribly painful for him. “You aren’t going to lose me, Donte.”

Donte’s answer was a sad smile, obscured all too soon by a puff of smoke. But the set of his shoulders—the tilt of his head—said he’d heard. While he maybe wasn’t ready to believe, he was hopeful.

They were both hopeful.

Then Adin glanced down at Donte’s gift, and his thoughts returned to Sahar. He never spoke of it, but the memory of her face in death still haunted him. He missed her warmth, her selflessness. Leave it to Donte. Only he would come up with a gift like this one.

Now, Adin could honor Sahar by carrying this tiny part of her with him forever. It was morbid, but perhaps it was also his duty to carry her with him in this highly visible way. Perhaps it was his penance and his private caveat that he should never treat the men and women who gave themselves to him lightly.

The gondola bumped against the quay, breaking into his thoughts. After they debarked, Adin placed the pin on his lapel.

Donte took his hand and pulled him into the shadows for a deep, passionate kiss. “Shall we go home?”

“To the hotel?” Adin asked breathlessly. “Or—”

“I misspoke.” Donte brushed a finger over Adin’s cheek. “I
am
home whenever I’m with you, caro. Perhaps I should say, ‘Shall we find a bed to celebrate that fact?’”

Adin gave him a quick nod. “Lead the way and I will follow.”

“I suppose there’s a first time for everything.” Donte’s words echoed off the cobblestones beneath their feet. Adin blinked in surprise. Donte looked happy. Carefree. The breeze ruffled the waves in his hair and happiness made his eyes sparkle as he held out his hand. “Let’s go together, shall we? No one leads. No one follows. Let’s simply…go our way side by side, and see what happens.”

“Hell yes.” Adin didn’t need Donte to ask him twice. “Let’s go.”