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protect—” Adin gasped. “You bastard !
    You knew.”
    Santos shrugged, then shot Adin a radiant smile. “I suspected.
    Well… maybe I suggested to Harwiche that the men he was
    dealing with were unsavory and his problems might be solved
    by an intermediary. The Harwiche family and I have a history,
    26 Z.A. Maxfield
    of sorts.”
    Adin closed his eyes. “You are such a shit.”
    “It’s really a simple matter, Adin.” Santos draped an arm
    around his shoulder and began walking him back toward the
    Pont Neuf, where they would cross the Seine. “All you have to do
    is give the boy to Donte—”
    “You know I won’t do that, I can’t. And Donte will try to
    force me…”
    “Yes…” Santos gave Adin’s shoulder a hard squeeze, just
    short of painful. “Well. Eternity isn’t much fun unless I’m making
    some kind of trouble for Fedeltà.”
    “I have to think.” Adin shoved Santos away. “What is the boy
    that Harwiche wants him so badly?”
    “That is a very good question.”
    “All right,” Adin growled and looked at his watches. “You’ve
    made your mischief, and if you’re right, Donte will be here any
    minute. If you want to add jealous outrage, be sure and stick
    around.”
    “Never. That would be too pedestrian for me and he knows
    I don’t share his peculiar tastes.” Santos shook his head. “You
    won’t believe me, but it’s always a pleasure to see you Adin.”
    “The pleasure was all yours.” Adin headed across the bridge
    toward the Right Bank but stopped when he’d gotten about ten
    feet. He sighed and turned back to shoot Santos a cheeky smile.
    “ Almost , all yours. Thanks for the drink, Santos, and Happy
    Easter.”
    A brief burst of Santos’s laughter followed Adin as he
    crossed over the river. Once on the other side, Adin couldn’t
    help the rush of emotions, the hard beating of his heart at the
    thought of seeing Donte again. The awareness that—at any
    moment—he could turn a corner and see Donte’s much-loved
    face quickened his footsteps and compressed his chest with tense
    anticipation. Adin truly hoped Donte was past his lengthy period
    of melancholy, because he wanted nothing more than to play.
    Vigil 27
    “Damn you,” he said aloud, “come out, come out, wherever
    you are.” He turned another corner and headed down an alley on
    his way to the hotel. His skin hummed with keen urgency, and he
    could hear the whisper of Donte’s many languages in his head.
    Adin knew enough to recognize Donte’s playful stalking when he
    felt it. “I can feel you. I know you’re here.”
    Adin passed a fire escape under which a faint puff of smoke
    curled away from a recessed doorway, redolent with the scent of
    Donte’s expensive cigars.
    A tiny flare of light from a rather unusual, nearly original
    Zippo lighter caught Adin’s attention, limning Donte’s face, then
    going out.
    Like fucking Harry Lime, there, a briefly lit face in the
    darkness, and gone again.
    “Hello, my lover.” Adin went into the sinister shadows to be
    with Donte, moving with grace into his arms to swap smoke and
    spit and find skin. Sensation prickled all along the surface of his
    body when they touched.
    “Adin,” Donte sighed when their bodies met. He cupped
    Adin’s face in his hands and studied him. “ Più amato .”
    “I’ve missed you,” Adin said between kisses. “Missed us.”
    “Me too.” Donte tossed his cigar to the ground and reached
    both hands down the back of Adin’s pants. “Leather, caro ? You’re
    dressed like a boy harlot. I have to admit, it has its charm.”
    “Mmhmm.” Adin pulled Donte’s shirt from his trousers. He
    wondered if all vampires had such marvelous tailors, he had only
    to breathe in Donte’s scent and crush the fabric in his fingers to
    feel a surge of erotic excitement deep within him.
    “Turn,” he told Donte, uncharacteristically brusque.
    “Adin…” Donte resisted, but Adin gritted his teeth and
    clutched Donte’s jacket,