Vampire Most Wanted (24 page)

“Shut up,” Divine whispered.

“Sometimes they get thirsty and stop to chug blood from the pails they set out beneath him to catch the precious liquid, but other times—although this is only toward the end,” he assured her, “one of them will hit a major artery like a carotid, or—and this is cool—the ulnar or radial in one of the arms hanging down, and then they just stand there and let it squirt and flow into their mouth from his arm like it’s the spout of a teapot.”

“Shut up,” Divine repeated, her voice stronger but raspy. It felt like her throat was closing up.

“Oh, I’m sorry, am I making you thirsty?” he asked solicitously.

“Thirsty?” she echoed with disbelief. “You’re making me sick.”

“Oh,” Abaddon said with feigned surprise and then tsked and shook his head. “You always did have a weak stomach, didn’t you? Ah well.” He shrugged and then said, “Anyway, that usually finishes off the dad and then they string up Mom next to him, also upside down, which is handy for getting her nightgown out of the way if she’s wearing one, and then they do it all over again. Of course, she’s followed by the eldest child and so on.”

Unable to kill him chained to the chair as she was, Divine just bowed her head, trying to shut him out as he finished, “So there’s the bonfire, the blood, the screaming, and fun is had by all. The boys love it. They get all excited when Leo says they’re going on a family picnic.”

“Dear God,” Divine breathed.

“Oh, don’t be like that,” Abaddon chided. “You should be proud of your son. He’s at least equaled, if not surpassed, his father when it comes to acts of depravity. And that was despite having you for a mother, which was certainly a handicap, what with your goody-two-shoes ways.”

“He’s not my child,” she said coldly, raising her head and staring through the man.

“No,” Abaddon said sympathetically. “Your child was a girl with big silver-blue eyes and ice blond hair like yours is under that nasty dye. She—” He paused as his phone made another sound, this time a twitter. Pulling it out, he peered at the message and smiled. “Well, Marcus made good time too. He’s just pulling in.”

Divine felt her heart sink at this news. Despite his saying they were waiting for Marcus, she’d hoped he was just lying to her or that Marcus would have the sense to not come in the end. She would even have been happy did he hate her now that he knew she was the woman who had unknowingly rescued a monster when she’d swept her son up and carried him away that day in the hotel. She hated herself for it now that she’d heard what he’d been up to all these years.

Divine couldn’t imagine the blood the man she’d thought of as her son, Damian, had on his hands. But she knew every drop of it was on her hands too. She’d failed him as a parent. She should have escaped Abaddon the moment they were out of the camp. She should have . . . Well, truly, she didn’t know what else she could have done to prevent this, but she was sure there was something.

M
arcus stopped the rented sedan next to the SUV Divine had taken and surveyed the building ahead, wondering how many people there were inside. He was walking into the lion’s den, and doing so willingly. Why? Because the message left for him at the hotel had said that if he came and forfeited his life, Basha’s would be spared.

As far as Marcus was concerned, that had left him little choice. She was his life mate. It was that simple. He’d rather cut off his own head than see her hurt in any way. He just didn’t know if giving up his life would save hers in the end. He wasn’t foolish enough to trust that this Abaddon who had left the message would really let Divine walk away.

Marcus also didn’t know how long they had before Lucian and the others would track them down. They’d been expected back at the carnival last night. He’d called while in the taxi on the way to buy clothes last night to tell Vincent that they were going to be a little later than expected, that Divine had agreed to tell him everything, but it would take time. However, it was now noon of the following day and he hadn’t called again, nor had he answered any of the many calls from them this morning. First he’d been tied up and talking with Divine in the bedroom while his phone had been in the pocket of his jeans in the bathroom and he hadn’t heard the first of the calls, and then he’d been desperate to get to her so ignored the rest. Besides, he hadn’t known what to say, whether to call them in to help or not. Marcus wasn’t sure Divine was any safer in their hands than she was with the man she’d raised as her son.

The sound of a car drew his gaze to the rearview mirror. Marcus wasn’t terribly surprised to see the car that came to a halt behind his rental. It had followed him all the way from the hotel in Vegas. But now that it was no longer keeping a safe distance between them, he could see the two men inside. They could have been twins despite the fact that one had a shaved head and the other had long, stringy unkempt hair. They were definitely sons of Leonius Livius II. All his sons seemed to take after him in looks.

The men got out of their vehicle, but simply leaned against it, patiently waiting, both dressed in jeans and T-shirts. Neither looked too bothered by the fact that they were standing out under the noonday sun and would have to feed more because of it later. Marcus was though, because he knew they would feed on some poor mortal they snatched from her bed or off the street.

Mouth tightening, he got out of the car and headed for the main door of the building, not even bothering to glance around to see if the men were following. Marcus knew they were. He would have known even if he couldn’t hear the crunch of the sand and stone under their Doc Martens.

Twenty-three

“A
h, here you are. Thank you for coming so speedily.”

Divine pulled herself from her thoughts and glanced to the door as Abaddon said those words. Her heart leaped and then sank when she saw Marcus walking calmly into the room, two more of Damian’s sons on his heels.

Leonius, she corrected herself. They were Leonius’s sons. He might have been Damian as a boy, but he was no longer. He had chosen his path, and he had chosen his name. He was Leonius Livius II now, and she could never let herself forget that.

“Come, sit down,” Abaddon said jovially, gesturing to the chair he’d vacated just moments ago.

Marcus crossed to the chair, his eyes moving over Divine with concern as he settled across from her.

“I’m fine,” she whispered sadly, really wishing he hadn’t come.

“Of course she’s fine, Marcus. Do you mind if I call you Marcus,” Abaddon asked, gesturing to the men, who immediately retrieved more chain and began to padlock Marcus to the chair. “And you, of course, should call me Abaddon. Or Abby if you like.”

Marcus ignored him, as well as the men chaining him up, and merely stared into Divine’s eyes as if she was the only one there. She could see the silver swirling through the black of his eyes and was sure his emotions were a tumultuous mix of anger, worry, and some softer feeling she didn’t dare call love. But she didn’t know if he was angry at her or Abaddon. Probably both, she thought unhappily and then glanced toward Abaddon as he ordered the two newly arrived men to go out and keep an eye out for company. The two men left, leaving just Abaddon and the grandson who had stayed behind her all this time. He had remained leaning against the wall, looking bored, since she’d been chained to the chair.

“Well,” Abaddon said, settling into the seat at the end of the table. “We have just been sitting here chatting about the good old days.”

Marcus finally tore his eyes from Divine to acknowledge the other man by saying, “Divine told me you were one of the first Leonius’s men.”

“His friend,” Abaddon corrected. “We were great friends.”

“I’m surprised you had anything in common. You’re immortal, not no-fanger, aren’t you?” Marcus murmured, narrowing his eyes as he peered at the other man.

“Oh, yes, well that’s true, but despite that we had a lot in common,” Abaddon assured him.

“You like raping and torturing women too, do you?” Marcus asked grimly.

“I’m more of a watcher than a doer,” Abaddon admitted with a little laugh. “Leo liked to cut them up, and I liked to watch them scream and squirm. It worked out very nicely.”

Divine glanced at him sharply. She’d always thought she was alone with Leonius when he’d done the things he did. Now she wondered if Abaddon had been there somewhere, watching through a peephole the entire time. The thought just added to her humiliation.

“Only the first time,” Abaddon said suddenly, apparently reading her mind. “And he threw me out after the first few minutes, which he never did with any of the other women,” he added resentfully, and then forced a smile and said, “Leo was oddly jealous of you . . . which I can understand completely, of course,” he added, running a lascivious gaze down her body. “He and I always had similar taste in women.”

Despite his ogling her, all Divine felt was relief that Abaddon hadn’t witnessed her humiliation, at least not past the first few minutes of it. Although she supposed it was silly to feel that way when all he had to do was read her mind to enjoy every second of it.

“Enough of that though,” Abaddon said suddenly, sitting back in his chair and turning his gaze to Marcus. “Before you got here we were talking about Basha’s baby. I was telling her how pretty she was, and that she looked just like a mini version of her, but kind of plump and roundish as babies are.” His gaze shifted back to Divine. “You should have seen her, Basha. She really was adorable.”

“What happened to her?” Marcus growled.

Abaddon addressed the answer to Divine. “I cut off her head outside the tent while you were still inside panting from the exertion of birthing her. Leonius had no use for daughters.”

Divine closed her eyes, but Marcus growled and tugged uselessly at his chains. “You—”

“And you gave me Damian in her place?” Divine said quickly, interrupting Marcus. Abaddon might claim he enjoyed watching rather than doling out torture, but he was just as cruel in his way, and had been known to lash out. She wouldn’t have him lashing out at an incapacitated Marcus.

Abaddon’s expression was amused when he turned to her. He knew exactly what she was doing, but all he said was “I know you like to think you named him Damian, but really, Basha, he was a day old and already named Leonius II when I placed him in your arms.”

He let that sink in and then laughed and added, “Although, I must say it’s ironic. Your name choice, I mean. Don’t you find it ironic . . . especially now? I mean, you must think he’s the devil’s spawn.”

When Divine just stared at him with bewilderment, he sighed with disappointment. “Of course, you don’t do anything as plebian as go to movies or watch television, do you? So you’ve never seen
The Omen
? No?” He shook his head. “Such a shame. I think you’d really enjoy it.”

Divine had no idea what he was talking about and no interest in movies at that point. She did have a lot of questions though. “Why?” she asked grimly. “Why give me the boy in my daughter’s place? Why rush me out of there with a child that wasn’t my own? Why not take the mother of the boy instead?”

“To give him a better chance at survival,” he said simply. “You are an Argeneau, the boy’s mother was just some mortal Leonius turned edentate. With you in her place, if we were caught making our escape, your uncle would have taken you both under his wing and home to his parents, and Leonius’s son would have been raised in the bosom of the very family who brought about his father’s downfall.”

Divine shook her head at once. “They would have known he wasn’t my son. He’s edentate, an immortal woman can only produce immortals.”

Abaddon glanced to Marcus. “I’m guessing you clarified the science for her? You must have. She was never around immortals before you. I made sure of that.” Smiling faintly, he sat back and suggested, “Perhaps you should tell her why they would have believed he could be her son.”

Marcus was silent for a moment, and Divine was just beginning to think he would refuse, but then he turned to her and said, “He’s right. They might have believed he was yours back then. Immortals tended not to mate with no-fangers so there wasn’t a lot of experience to go on. Besides, none of the scientists made it out of Atlantis, and it’s only been the last couple of centuries that mortal science has progressed enough for us to learn those kinds of things.”

“Exactly,” Abaddon said triumphantly. “Lucian would have accepted Damian as your son and probably would have helped you raise him too.” He sat back with a little sigh and said, “Wouldn’t that have been grand?”

“That’s what Leonius wanted, wasn’t it?” Divine said with sudden understanding, sure the bastard would have enjoyed the irony of that.

“Hmmm,” Abaddon murmured with a nod. “And I’m sure he died happily, thinking that would happen. Sadly for him, I had a change of heart as I led you out of the camp and decided not being caught was preferred.”

“Why?” she asked at once.

“You mean aside from the fact that I would have been killed on the spot if we’d been caught?” Abaddon asked dryly and shook his head. “I’m afraid I wasn’t
that
loyal to Leonius. I found his behavior entertaining, certainly, but dying for him and his cause was just that one step beyond the call of duty in my mind.”

“Then why not just leave us and flee on your own once you were out of camp?” Divine asked at once, thinking how different things would have been had that happened. She would have had family, a home . . . Damian might even have turned out better.

“That’s why,” Abaddon said.

Divine blinked her thoughts away and peered at him with confusion, but it was Marcus who asked, “What’s why?”

Staring Divine in the eye, Abaddon said, “You would have had family, a home . . .” He stopped listing off the thoughts she’d been having and shrugged. “As ashamed as I am to admit it, I’m a vengeful prick. Even my mother used to say that.”

“You had a mother?” Divine snapped. “And here I was sure you were hatched like the rest of the snakes.”

“Name calling?” he asked with a laugh. “Really? That’s the best you can do?”

“Remove these chains and I’ll do better for her,” Marcus said silkily, drawing his gaze.

Abaddon smiled. “Now why would I do that? I have you both where I want you and I’m truly enjoying this.”

“Torturing her, you mean?” Marcus asked grimly. “You might not like to get your hands dirty with physical torture, but you certainly don’t have a problem torturing her mentally, do you? You’ve been doing that every time you’ve seen her for two thousand years.”

“Not as much as I’d have liked,” Abaddon assured him. “It was tricky with Leonius there. He’s protective of his mother . . . as a loving son should be,” he added with a sneer.

“Why?” Divine demanded before Marcus could respond to that. “Just tell me why the hell I earned so much antipathy from you? Why did you want me so fricking miserable all these years?”

Abaddon turned to peer at her. “The truth?”

When Divine nodded, he shrugged.

“Basically it’s because I don’t take rejection well.”

“Rejection,” she echoed with confusion, not having a clue what he was talking about.

Abaddon sighed with exasperation. “Here it’s been a thorn in my side for eons and you don’t even remember it?” he asked with annoyance.

“Remember what?” Divine asked with annoyance of her own. Cripes, if she’d been paying all these years for something, it would be nice to know what the hell it was.

“I offered to save you,” he said heavily, and when Divine stared at him blankly, he tsked irritably and reminded her, “On the ride back to camp the night we found you? You were all tied up and on my horse in front of me. When you thought no one was paying you any attention, you started to weep. I chucked your chin and you looked up at me with these big, beautiful, sad silver-blue eyes and I was moved,” he added with self-disgust. “I offered to save you from Leonius.”

“You offered to save me
if I became your lover
,” Divine said with remembered outrage as the memory came back to her.

“Would that have been worse than letting that animal paw and rape and cut you up?” Abaddon snapped.

“Let?” she snapped right back, leaning forward in her chair as much as the chains would allow. “I was
eleven years old
. A
child
. I had no idea what was in store for me. All I knew was some old pervert was pawing me up and demanding I be his lover or I’d be sorry.”

“But you weren’t, were you? You weren’t sorry at all,” he growled. “You enjoyed what he did to you.”

Divine slammed back against her chair as if he’d slapped her. Here was the seat of her shame. The reason she’d been sure her family would have turned from her as Abaddon had repeatedly claimed. The reason she’d spent her life running and hiding, even from herself. Most of the time, her captivity had been nothing but terrifying, screaming agony. But there were occasions . . . Divine hadn’t understood it at the time, but there had been sessions when she’d seemed to be experiencing Leonius’s pleasure in her pain, along with her agony. At first they were brief, just snapshots really, because Leonius had quickly stopped what he was doing and backed away from her when it happened, looking shaken and confused. But after half a dozen sessions like that, he hadn’t backed away, he’d continued on, raining a storm of pain and pleasure on her until she passed out.

That had shaken Divine, shaken her belief in herself. It had made her feel ashamed, dirty, unredeemable. Like there was something wrong with her. In her mind, what he did to her was abominable, inhuman. She’d been horrified and hurting. So how could she at the same time have experienced any pleasure at all?

“You can’t deny it,” Abaddon accused. “You enjoyed it.”

Divine’s gaze shot to Marcus and then quickly away when she saw him looking at her with concern. Scowling at Abaddon, she muttered. “Go to hell.”

“I expect to,” Abaddon said, relaxing. “In fact, I expect to like it.”

“This isn’t because she rejected your offer of protection all those years ago,” Marcus said suddenly. “All the energy you’ve expended on making her miserable all these years, ensuring she never felt it was safe to turn to her family, ensuring she was always alone, lying to make her keep feeding off the hoof when you knew that was no longer allowed . . . and calling her in to whisk Leonius away when Lucian and the others had captured him . . .” Marcus shook his head, eyes narrowed on the man. “You could have done the saving yourself, but you deliberately called her in to do it because you knew it would make her rogue and ensure she would never be accepted back into the fold. Or you hoped it would.”

“So?” Abaddon scowled.

“So those aren’t the actions of a man who was rejected,” Marcus said calmly, and then added, “Those are the actions of a jealous wife who blames a mistress for stealing a husband.”

Divine’s eyes widened incredulously and she glanced to Abaddon to see that his face was turning color, reddening first, and then purpling to fury.

“What happened, Abaddon?” Marcus asked. “You couldn’t read Leonius and he couldn’t read you? You wanted him for your life mate, and didn’t even mind that he was busy with torturing his little toys so long as he let you be a part of it. But then Divine came along. How did you know he’d take to her as he did? You must have known that to offer her protection. Although I suspect you only offered that thinking that Leonius wouldn’t want her if she went to you willingly.”

“It was the way he looked at her,” Abaddon snarled and then glared at Divine. “From the moment you ran into the clearing, it was like he was star-struck. He’d never looked at any of the other women like that. I knew . . .” His mouth set and he scowled at Divine. “So I took you up on my horse before he could, and I made that offer on the ride back to camp, but oh no, you wanted Leonius,
my
Leonius.”