“Robin and Terry, yes.” Terry was the brunette, Robin the blonde. They took turns shaking my hand limply, as though the last thing they wanted to do was to let me into their house.

“How long has it been since you last saw each other?” Terry asked, arching an eyebrow at Adair, her arms folded over her ample chest.

“Four years,” I answered.

“It seems—longer,” Adair offered.

The women made no attempt to mask their hostility, and I started to feel that I’d made a bad mistake by coming without warning. They both oozed sexuality—you could tell by their dress and body language—and I could only speculate as to what I might’ve interrupted. Before I could sputter another apology for the intrusion, however, Adair asked, “Will you be staying?” and gestured to the knapsack I was holding before adding, “Oh, of course you will. I shouldn’t even bother to ask: unless you have a boat at the dock or someone coming back for you soon, you’ll need to stay overnight, at least. Though you’re welcome to stay as long as you wish.”

“I realize this is terribly inconvenient of me, showing up unannounced,” I said, looking gratefully at the girls before turning back to Adair. “This isn’t purely a social call. There’s a reason why I’m here, Adair. I need to talk to you.”

His expression darkened immediately. “It must be important for you to have made this journey. Shall we do that now? We can go to my study—”

Robin sighed irritably, shaking her head as she reached for my knapsack. “For pity’s sake, did someone die or something? Surely that can wait till later. We should get you settled, find you a room first.” She then started up the stairs without waiting for anyone to agree. He gave me a nod, indicating I should follow. I was sorry to leave him so soon but followed the blonde, the soles of her sandals scraping on the treads.

I glanced into the rooms we passed as we walked down the hall, mildly curious about the interior of this odd domicile. Adair was a rich man, after all, and could live in luxury and comfort anywhere in the world, so why had he chosen to hide away on this rock in the middle of the Mediterranean Sea with these two women? The fortress was built in a rustic Moorish style and seemed as unimproved on the inside as it was on the outside. There were no clues in the bedrooms, as each was plainly decorated and obviously unoccupied. Wooden beams spanned the low ceilings, and the walls were white-washed stone. The furniture was all rough-hewn and probably had been made on Sardegna or Corsica a century ago. Simple woven blankets covered the beds.

Of all the rooms we passed on the second floor, only one appeared to be in use. In it, a huge feather mattress lay directly on the floor, the tangle of white sheets hinting of wanton abandon. Old Moroccan lanterns fitted with candles circled the bed, which faced a high, wide window dressed in gauzy curtains, through which you could see a panoramic view of the sea. Discarded clothing lay all over the floor, including a pale pink brassiere—Terry’s, by the size of it. Two more Turkish slippers sat at odd angles to each other, as though they’d been kicked off in a burst of bad temper. Adair’s unmade bed stirred something near my heart, but the casually tawdry display of the women’s clothing extinguished that stirring as easily as one might squeeze out the flame on a match head.

“Looking for something?” Robin asked, suddenly beside me, catching me gawking outside their bedroom. “You can’t have this room. It’s already taken,” she said in her sharp way.

“I didn’t mean to pry, but the door was open,” I said apologetically.

She had a funny way about her, guileless, like a child. She stared at me flatly, as though she was trying to tell what was going on in my head. “You came here hoping to get back together with him—that’s why you want to see if we’re sleeping with him, isn’t it?”

Heat rose up my neck and across my cheeks. “Not at all. He’s a friend. I’ve come to see for myself that he’s happy.”

“You’ve come an awfully long way just for that.” She narrowed her eyes at me. “That’s not the only reason you came.”

“No,” I murmured. I saw no reason not to tell her the truth. “I need a favor from him.”

“Must be some favor,” she said, then stuck a lock of hair in her mouth and began sucking on it, as though she was simpleminded. It was an unnerving gesture.

“It is.” The same anxiety I’d felt when I’d made up my mind to find Adair rose up in my chest, beating frantically like a bird was trapped inside me.

“And after you get what you want from him, will you leave us alone?” She practically spat the words at me. I didn’t know what to say, but before I could gather my wits to answer, she spun on her heel and started down the hall again, my knapsack banging against her shins.

* * *

Before Adair and I could speak in private, there was dinner with the girls to endure. The meal was set at a dining table that wouldn’t have looked out of place in a castle. The chairs were as ornately carved as thrones, the windows covered with long, heavy drapes of burgundy and gold. The walls were still fitted with iron brackets meant to hold flaming torches, now made obsolete by a huge crystal chandelier. It was too grand a setting for our small party, and made for a strange, off-kilter meal.

For dinner, Terry had roasted squabs and fresh greens tossed with olive oil. I assumed all the food came from their larder as the island appeared to have neither a chicken coop nor a garden. Adair and the girls ate with their fingers like hedonists, and their mouths were soon slick with squab fat and oil. The girls kept Adair merry, joking and flirting, and something was going on under the table, too, no doubt, a bare foot nestled in his lap or an eager hand stroking his thigh. They did their best to make me feel like an intruder, but I would be damned if I would let them intimidate me.

“How did you two meet Adair?” I asked as I picked at my salad with a fork.

Robin and Terry exchanged looks before the blonde answered. “It happened here on the island, actually. We were staying on Corsica, on holiday. Terry and I always go on holiday together, ever since we were kids. We go anywhere there’s sun and heat . . .”

“And pretty men,” Terry added, winking at Adair.

Robin poked tentatively at a piece of arugula. “Anyway, by the middle of the second week, it was getting sort of boring—”

“Too many German tourists,” Terry interrupted, rolling her eyes. “Hans and Franz with their wives and their little Hanslings in tow. And the men all squeezed into Speedos. Too much white, middle-aged flesh on display for my taste. And, besides, it’s not a proper holiday unless you find a complete stranger to shag. . . .” Terry watched to see if she’d managed to shock me, but I betrayed nothing.

“We hired a boat to take us out on an excursion, you know, to explore the little baby islands off the coast,” Robin continued, fishing a segment of tangerine out of her salad between thumb and index finger, “and we came upon the black beach below. We’d never seen nothing like it, so we talked the captain into dropping us off for an afternoon of sunbathing.”

“Oh, but it was too bloody cold for sunbathing,” Terry said.

“We thought the place was deserted. So there we were, lying topless in the sun,” Robin went on as though she hadn’t been interrupted, “when we see him wandering toward us, head down, all lost in thought. I couldn’t believe my eyes at first. I mean, we thought this place was deserted. Who’d have thought someone was living here on this rock all alone?”

“He invited us in for a drink, and one thing led to another . . .” Terry grinned wickedly at me, to make sure I understood what “the other thing” had been.

“. . . and we’ve been here ever since,” Robin finished.

“How long has it been now? Three months? Four?” Terry touched Adair’s arm lightly to get his attention. There was something possessive about her gesture and he didn’t seem to care for it, but he didn’t say anything to her. He was a gentleman—up to a point.

“Four months? That’s an awfully long holiday,” I said, looking from one woman to the other. “What about the people back home, your family, your jobs? They’re okay with the fact that you seem to have—um—checked out?”

“I suppose they’re wondering if we’ve gone mad.” Terry laughed raucously, throwing her head back, apparently not concerned in the least what anyone thought of her. “But they know we’re adventurous girls. We couldn’t turn down the opportunity. There’ll be time enough to settle when we’re older. In the meantime, will we ever get another chance to have an island all to ourselves, and to live in a fortress—with a man like Adair? Not bloody likely.”

Adair pushed back from the table and rose. From the smoldering look on his face, I could tell that he’d had enough. “If you don’t mind, girls, I think Lanore and I have something to discuss in private.” He helped me up from my chair. “Let me show you the island.”

The wind had eased since the sun went down, making it mild enough for a stroll. We were finally alone together, Adair and I. I was curious: in the house, he had seemed so changed, but maybe that was an act. Maybe he didn’t want to lose his temper in front of his guests. Now that there was no one nearby, he could say what was really on his mind. Given how we’d parted, Adair might do or say anything—he might take me in his arms and kiss me, or he might chastise me for leaving him without a word in four years. He could even keep me here against my will, as he’d done once, though I sensed that he’d lost that kind of fire. I tingled from head to toe with wild impatience, waiting breathlessly to see if Adair would do something—or if I would be the one to do something impetuous. It felt like a devil was whispering in my ear to open the door to trouble and tell him that I’d missed him, that I had feelings for him that I’d never confessed. I kept my hands shoved into my pockets and my arms pressed tight to my sides until the feeling passed, until I could be sure that I wasn’t about to do something I’d regret later.

There wasn’t much to see on the island or far to go, and before long we were at the black-pebbled beach watching the last wisps of periwinkle sky sink into the sea. For all its roughness, the island was stunningly beautiful. Stars were just starting to emerge from the velvet canopy overhead. There wasn’t the least bit of Italian coastline visible on the horizon. We might as well have been a million miles at sea and staring off the edge of the earth into infinity.

I looked back over my shoulder in the direction of the house. “I don’t think the girls are happy that we went off by ourselves. I didn’t mean to cause a big disruption. I hope this won’t make trouble for you later . . .” I began, but then realized the absurdity of my words, to think that Adair would let himself be bullied by two angry women. The Adair I knew had once fearlessly surrounded himself with murderers and thieves, keeping these villains as his servants, and not one of them had ever dared cross him. Had he changed so drastically that he couldn’t handle two jealous girlfriends?

He shrugged. “If they don’t like it, they can leave at any time.”

“Have you made them—companions?” I asked as delicately as I could. “Companion” was the term we used to refer to ourselves, those whom Adair had bound to him through the gift of immortality. That was what we called ourselves in our more discreet moments; we’d also used “captives” and “concubines,” but mostly “others,” because, by taking our mortality away from us, Adair had made us something apart from humanity. We were the others, no longer human and not like Adair, either.

“I have no need for any more companions. I only let them stay because, well . . .”

I raised an eyebrow. “I’ve seen them. I can imagine why you let them stay.”

He looked at me with mild annoyance. “Don’t tell me that you’re jealous. You have no reason to be—you were the one to leave me, as I remember. You didn’t expect me to be celibate after you left and went back to that man, did you?”

I turned into the breeze to cool my cheeks. “Of course I’m not jealous. Look, we haven’t seen each other in four years—let’s not start off with an argument, okay?”

He let his hands hang in the pockets of his greatcoat as he, too, turned into the wind. The loose strands of his long dark hair whipped behind him. “Of course. I don’t want to argue with you, Lanore.”

I longed to tuck my arm under his as we used to do when we walked along the streets of Boston many, many years ago, but I knew it was one of those crazy urges I had to guard against. It wouldn’t do to get too close to Adair; I could lose my perspective, and it would be that much harder to do what I’d come to do. Instead, I asked, with forced cheer, “How did you end up here, anyway, after Garda? I would’ve thought you would’ve gone to see the world.”