Page 75 of The Maestro's Mates
A small smile sprang up on Justin’s face. Pavel’s expression, on the other hand, didn’t change. Instead, his warm hand slid underneath the waistband of Sebastian’s shorts.
“I believe we have a proposal on the table involving filling all of your holes with cum?” Pavel asked.
Sebastian moaned in anticipation. This was going to be fun.
After a couple days of rest,most of which was spent in bed, Pavel and Justin had to go back to work. On multiple occasions, Sebastian needled Pavel about whether or not the mating bond had made a difference in how he felt, but he insisted he didn’t notice anything. Only time would tell if their mating would stave off permanent dormancy.
As Pavel and Justin returned to their respective jobs, Sebastian began rehearsals forDon Giovanni. It was his first major opera role in such an important house. Although not one of the leads, Leporello had plenty of stage time. The part was a lot of fun.
His first aria in the opera, theCatalogue Aria, was a blast, as Sebastian broke up with a woman on behalf of his lord. He did it by listing the huge number of women Don Giovanni had screwed in different countries and all the varieties—young and old, princesses and maids. It was silly and mischievous, and Sebastian reveled in it.
Every day, he walked into rehearsal gliding on air. Not only that, but the conductor was extraordinarily kind to him. Benedita Marques was making her debut at the opera house as well, although she had two decades of conducting for major European opera companies under her belt.
And the whole thing was made perfect by the fact that, at the end of the day, Sebastian came home to Justin and Pavel. They all stayed at Pavel’s condo now, a few blocks from the Manhattan Lyric, although they hadn’t moved their stuff in yet. Slipping into bed next to his vampire and his gargoyle every evening was glorious.
After three weeks of rehearsal, it was time for opening night, and it would be made all the sweeter having his two mates there to cheer him on.
Chapter 29
Pavel
The buzz of chatter minutes before the opening night curtain went up was Pavel’s favorite sound. In those moments, the whole place was coursing with excitement and potential. Would this be the night? The night when everything came together in perfect sync? And would a new star emerge? Especially with an opera as sprawling asDon Giovanni, most folks in the audience were seeing a few new singers.
Perhaps one would be the next Maria Callas, the next Renee Fleming.
Or perhaps they would crash and burn. That was part of the tension as well.
But tonight was different. Pavel was sitting in his typical seat, in a box on the third level, but for the first time, he had his vampire mate by his side. Justin was slotted into the red velvet seat to his left, the vampire’s knee jiggling with nervousness for Sebastian.
He reached down and slid his fingers between Justin’s. The vampire’s hand was smaller than his, and Pavel lovedthe feel of holding it. Justin turned and smiled at him, although there was anxiety in his eyes. He reached over and moved a single blonde curl out of Justin’s face, tucking it behind his ear.
“He’s going to be wonderful.” Pavel kissed Justin lightly on the cheek and got a hand squeeze in return.
“I know,” Justin whispered. “I just want everyone to love him.”
“How could they not?” Pavel couldn’t help but smile at Justin’s earnestness.
Justin nodded, not answering. Looking over the crowd, Pavel’s heart was full. He had known many singers over the years, of course, but this felt different. This was his mate. Not only that, but Pavel had been mentoring him for months now. His witch was one talented singer.
Pavel’s eyes landed on a shock of dyed blonde hair in the front row. It was Linda. She was in a blazer once again, this time with some sparkle to it. She was surrounded on all sides by the members of her Circle. He wasn’t sure if the whole group had come—a couple must have stayed behind to protect the house—but it was a solid showing.
Linda was a continued mystery to him. She swung like a pendulum between begrudging approval and murderous disdain, and Pavel never knew where she was going to land. Of course, he hadn’t had to deal with her all that much, but shewashis mate’s mother. She would be in their lives for many years to come.
Thoughts of the Eldest of the Bayonne Circle were chased away with the appearance of Maestra Marques. Dressed in a simple but elegant floor-length black dress, she was greeted with boisterous cheers. Some of these patrons had been waiting years for her debut. She gave them aconfident smile, took her place on the podium, and raised her baton.
The overture toDon Giovanniwas a well-known piece of music—some might even say overplayed—but it never failed to get Pavel’s heart pumping. The ominous energy of the music pierced the house like a thunderbolt, and from the first dark chord, the audience was in the palm of Maestra Benedita’s hand.
Pavel glanced over at Justin, who leaned forward with wide eyes, enraptured by it all. He practically vibrated with nervous energy. Justin hadn’t seen a production before, and Pavel couldn’t help but love the man as he eagerly bounced in his seat.
Love him? Is that what this was? After three millennia, did he love these men? Yes, they were his mates, but he was still learning who they were.
Still, if it wasn’t love now, it would be soon. He was falling fast. They’d bulldozed the thick barricades he’d erected around his heart, and love was practically a foregone conclusion. Before he’d wanted to fade away, to enjoy the stability and peace of a life he fully understood until it came to an end. Yet all it took was one sweet, wide-eyed glance from Justin, one mischievous smirk from Sebastian, and he was a goner.
Pavel’s heart swelled as the curtain rose, revealing Sebastian alone onstage, clad in vibrant 17th-century clothing, including a glorious red velvet cape with gold embroidery. Although Leporello was a servant, the costume designer had gone all out with his costume. Pavel was glad Sebastian’s first performance at the opera house was in a period production. He loved a modern reinterpretation, butthere was something magical about feeling immersed in the Seville of the 1800s.
Then his mate opened his mouth to sing, and Pavel’s heart stopped.
Notte e giorno faticar
