Vampire Most Wanted (5 page)

“What do you mean?” he asked with surprise.

“Well, she’s usually up with the birds. I swear the girl doesn’t sleep more than a couple hours a night. But as far as I can tell she isn’t even up yet. We open in half an hour, but her RV’s closed up tight, her sign isn’t out, and I knocked and got no answer.”

Marcus frowned and glanced toward Divine’s RV.

“Maybe she’s already up and out or something,” Madge murmured, peering toward the RV too. “Although I don’t know where she’d have got to. Being allergic to the sun like you, she usually sticks close to the RV when she isn’t helping someone.” The thought apparently reminded her of a concern she’d had for him and she glanced to the awning that had been set up over the Tilt-A-Whirl’s controls and nodded with satisfaction. “I’m glad Chapman listened and set that up for you. Bob warned him he might lose you if he tried to make you work in the sun.”

“Thanks,” Marcus murmured. It had been a worry of his when Chapman had mentioned having him run the Tilt-A-Whirl. Well, okay, his head had been too wrapped up in thoughts of Divine to concern himself much with that last night, but it had definitely been on his mind when he’d walked out to the SUV that morning. Early as it was the sun had already been out and pounding its heat at the earth. He’d been glad to arrive and find Chapman had set up the awning for him.

“Have you seen her this morning?”

Drawn back to the issue at hand, Marcus shook his head slowly and then suggested, “Maybe she had to run into town for something.”

“That’s possible,” Madge said with a sigh. “It’s rare, but she sometimes goes into the town in search of herbs and stuff for those natural remedies of hers.”

Marcus hesitated. That was something else he’d learned last night. Divine was always offering natural remedies to the other carnies when they fell ill, which was much appreciated since most couldn’t afford proper health care. Sometimes, though, she even seemed to know they were sick before the individual did, and they had all learned to listen if she said they needed to do something for their health. Everyone in the carnie either liked, or at least respected, her for it.

“That’s probably where she is then,” Marcus said to soothe the woman’s worry.

“Yeah,” Madge agreed, relaxing a little. “She’ll probably come buzzing back on her motorcycle just before the gates open.”

Marcus merely nodded, his gaze shifting over the RV again.

“Speaking of that, I guess I’d best get to the gate and help the ticket girls get ready.” She turned away, adding, “You come on over after closing tonight and I’ll feed you. We need to keep your strength up. Bob swears you work harder than three men put together here.”

“Thanks,” Marcus murmured, but his gaze was still on the RV, and after she left, he stepped away from the Tilt-A-Whirl control panel and headed for the vehicle. He knocked once on reaching the door, waited for the count of ten, and when there was no sound of movement from inside, tried the handle. It wasn’t locked. Marcus hesitated, glanced around to be sure no one was paying attention, and then slid quickly inside.

“Hello?” he called as he waited for his eyes to adjust. With the curtains closed, there was no light in the room, but he had good night vision as all immortals did, and after a moment it kicked in and he glanced around the small consultation room Divine had set up. Everything was still and quiet and appeared in its place, so he moved to the curtain, tugged it aside, and looked around the lounge/kitchenette area as he started forward.

Marcus was perhaps halfway across the room when he noted the blood on the wall beside the door to the bedroom. Following the streaks down, he saw that they ended in an alarmingly large puddle on the floor. Hurrying forward now, he knelt and touched the puddle. The blood was drying, but the puddle was deep enough it was still wet in the middle. By his guess whatever had happened had happened hours ago . . . and it was immortal blood. He could tell that at once.

Cursing, he straightened and moved back outside to check the side panel where the motorcycle was kept. He’d been watching Divine the night before when she’d punched in the code to open it, and copied her actions now. When the panel slid open, it was empty. No motorcycle and no helmet. Marcus closed the panel and returned inside to search the RV.

Five

T
he rustle of clothing stirred Divine and then she blinked her eyes open with surprise when a cold cloth was laid across her forehead. She found herself peering up into her son’s thin face. It was half obscured by strands of his long hair, making his expression inscrutable.

“You’re awake. How do you feel?” Damian asked, sitting on the edge of the mattress she lay on.

Divine stared at him blankly, confusion rife in her thoughts. “Damian? What are you doing here?”

“You don’t remember?”

Divine glanced past her son at that question, her eyes settling with dislike on the dark-haired man who had spoken. She couldn’t prevent the scowl that claimed her lips. “Abaddon.”

“Basha,” he greeted with a condescending smile, and anger whipped up through her like a snake.

“I don’t answer to that name, Abaddon, and well you know it. My name is Divine and has been for a good century. You should be used to it by now.”

“You can call yourself what you like, but in your heart you will always be Basha,” Abaddon said with a shrug.

That just made her furious, perhaps because in her heart she knew it was true. She could give herself any name she wished, but would always be Basha, daughter of Felix and Tisiphone, granddaughter of Alexandria and Ramses, and niece of the great and powerful Lucian Argeneau, a man she used to adore but had learned to fear. In her heart, she was still Basha, but she was trying hard not to be, and loathed that the young woman she’d been so long ago still clung to the woman she’d become.

Knowing he could and probably was reading her thoughts, Divine shifted her attention to the room she was in to clear her thoughts. She noted the torn, old-fashioned wallpaper and scarred hardwood floors. There were holes in the walls and a large one in the floor as well, telling her where she was—the derelict building on the edge of town that her son had settled in for his brief stay in California.

“I don’t know why you choose to live in such horrible places, Damian,” she said unhappily.

“Where should he live?” Abaddon asked dryly. “Should he run away? Join the carnival like you?”

“I didn’t run away,” she snapped.

“Basha, my sweet, you’ve been running from yourself since—”

“Get out of here, Abby,” Damian interrupted. “You’re just upsetting her.”

Abaddon hesitated, but then nodded obsequiously. “As you wish.”

“I don’t know why you allow him in your life,” Divine growled as she watched the man leave.

“He has his uses,” Damian said mildly.

“He’s an animal like his master was before him,” Divine snapped, and then turned to her son and said with frustration, “It took me ten years to get us away from that man and remove his influence from your life, and then when you turned eighteen and set out on your own, you just welcomed him back in like a long-lost uncle.”

“Do you really want to argue about this again? Now?” Damian asked.

Sighing, Divine shook her head and closed her eyes briefly. She’d given up arguing about Abaddon two and a half millennia ago . . . after more than two hundred years of useless attempts to get Damian away from the man, she’d acknowledged that it was his life, he could do what he wanted with it, and have who he wanted in it. That was also when she’d started spending less time around her son, leading her own life and leaving him to lead his.

“I don’t want to argue, Damian,” she said finally, “But he—”

“Saved your life,” he interrupted, and then added chidingly, “Again. Surely you can cut him some slack?”

“He saved my life?” Divine asked with a frown, now trying to sort through her memories to find how she’d got here. She remembered coming back from town, dropping off Marco by the bunkhouses, returning to her RV intending to put the motorcycle away and . . . she’d heard a noise from inside the RV, Divine recalled. She’d gone in to investigate and— She raised a hand to feel her head as she recalled the pain crashing through it.

“Abby was concerned about this business of Lucian sending out spies to look for you.”

Divine blinked her memories away and peered at her son when he said that. She’d found that out on her last visit here, the day before. Divine had been surprised to learn on arriving in town with the carnival that Damian was in the area. Even more surprising was that he’d wanted to see her. While they’d been close when he was a boy, he’d grown distant as he aged and she rarely saw him anymore . . . unless he needed something. This time he’d wanted to see her to warn her. Damian had got wind that her uncle Lucian wasn’t only looking for him, he had sent spies out to look for her as well. It seemed he’d somehow learned that she lived. Their guess was that Damian’s son Ernie had revealed it when he was caught and dragged up in front of the Council.

The little fool, Divine thought on a sigh. She’d raised Ernie for Damian, at least for the first five years. The immortal boy had been a sweet child, but somehow had grown into a weak and sometimes foolish adult. He’d always seemed to be trying to prove something to his father, and had apparently gone north to Canada with some harebrained scheme of performing some “derring-do” to earn his father’s respect.

The little idiot had gone about it all wrong though. He’d kidnapped someone connected to the Argeneau family, Lord knew for what purpose, and then he’d got himself caught and executed for his efforts. If anything, Ernie had only made matters worse. Lucian had begun searching for her son in earnest then . . . as well as for her. Knowing that, Divine had suspected Marco might be a spy, but hadn’t had a chance to find out for certain or do anything about it.

“Abby was worried about you all alone at the carnival, so he sent a couple of the boys to check on you and make sure you were okay,” Damian continued, capturing her attention again. “They found you unconscious in your RV, with a head wound, and brought you back here. You’re at the house.”

Divine just nodded. She’d already worked out where she was and the knowledge was depressing. She loathed that her child had to live like this, always moving, always hiding, trying to evade her family. They both did, but she at least had the carnival and her RV. Damian refused to settle into such an existence and preferred avoiding mortals and immortals alike altogether, making do with abandoned houses and derelict buildings. He didn’t have a real home and never had, really. They had always been running . . . because of her damned family.

“Abby has some suspicions about who knocked you out.”

Divine glanced to him. “He does?”

Damian nodded. “One of Lucian’s spies is working at your carnival.”

“What?” she asked with surprise, and then her eyes widened as his mentioning the carnival recalled her to her responsibilities. Sitting up, she swung her legs off the bed. “What time is it? How long have I been here?”

“Mother, lay down. You took a bad blow to the head. A little rest—”

“I’m healed,” Divine muttered, and glanced at her wristwatch. Dear God, it was almost noon. The carnival would be opening soon and she would be expected to be there. Saturdays they opened at 10
A.M.
, but weekdays and Sundays they didn’t open until noon. It was too slow to bother before that on those days. But even when they didn’t open until noon, they were up early, cleaning up from the night before and checking that everything was in working order and ready for the busy day ahead. She’d missed helping with that, but absolutely could not miss opening. “I have to get back.”

“Mother,” Damian said with exasperation as she stood up and peered down at her bloodstained blouse. She looked like she should be working the Haunted House ride rather than her own fortune-telling gig.

“How is your head?” he asked, catching her arm and drawing her attention away from her stained top.

“I’m fine,” she assured him. “I heal quickly, we all do, and I have to get back. We open at noon.”

“Yes, but I don’t think you should go back,” he protested. “You aren’t safe there. One of Lucian’s spies has joined your carnival. He must suspect you and we think he’s the one who hurt you. If the boys hadn’t found you . . .”

Divine paused to stare at him as his words sparked a memory in her head.
When the boys said she was cavorting with that Argeneau spy I had to order them to bring her in.
The words played through her head in what she thought was Abaddon’s voice.

“You see you can’t go back there, don’t you?” Damian asked.

Divine turned solemn eyes to her son. “The boys found me?”

“Yes. We think it was that Marco guy who hit you. He’s one of the men Lucian sent to look for you.”

“Marco?” Divine asked with surprise, though she supposed she shouldn’t be surprised. She already knew that he was an immortal.

“Fortunately, the boys’ arrival must have scared him off,” Damian continued. “They found you and brought you back here to heal. I’ve been giving you blood all night. The worst of the healing is probably over, but you’ll no doubt need extra blood for a while as it finishes.”

Divine stared at him, other words playing in her head.

So you told them to crush her skull and drag her back here?

I told them to knock her out and bring her back. They were a little . . . enthusiastic in their efforts.

They caved in her skull, Abby!

They are scared of her so hit her with a little more strength than necessary.

A little more strength? We’ve gone through three girls giving her enough blood to heal. Now we have to find others. Which boys did you have spying on her? I want them punished.

“Mother?”

Divine forced her attention from the conversation replaying in her head and glanced at her son. He was frowning with concern.

“Maybe you should sit down,” Damian said. “You’ve gone pale.”

Divine sucked in a deep breath and turned to move toward the door rather than look at him. Her son was lying to her. “I have to get back.”

“Mother—”

“Now that I know Marco is a spy I can be on guard around him,” she said calmly. “But I have to go back. My RV is there.” Pausing at the door she swung back. “It
is
still there?”

“Yes. The boys brought back your motorcycle but left the RV,” he assured her, and then added quickly, “But we can send one of them to pick it up for you. There’s no need for you to go back.”

“Of course there is. If I just disappear, they’ll know I’m the woman they’re looking for,” she argued. “Besides, it’s always better to learn what you can about your enemy. I might be able to find out just what Lucian knows if I go back.”

Divine didn’t wait for him to respond to that, but turned and opened the door and hurried out. The hallway was empty, as was the front room when she reached it, and Divine supposed everyone was in bed by now. They tended to be night owls. While she was glad Abaddon wasn’t around to read her chaotic thoughts just then, she would have liked to come across at least a couple of the boys. A quick butt kicking of one or two of them would have gotten her the truth of who had bashed her head in last night . . . which was probably why they weren’t around at the moment. Damian obviously didn’t want her to know that Abaddon had put her own grandchildren up to attacking her.

Divine spotted her motorcycle the moment she stepped out onto the dilapidated porch of the house. It would be a good thing to get away without running into Abaddon. She suspected if he read her and announced that she knew Damian was lying, she’d be stuck there for a while arguing with her son or kicking some ass, and she really didn’t have time for either.

“All right, fine, go back,” Damian said as she pulled on her helmet.

Divine managed not to grin at his tone. He said it as if he were giving her permission. She was the mother here, for pity’s sake. She would go when and where she liked, and always had . . . and she would deal with him and his lie in her own time too.

“But be careful. Marcus Notte might not be the only spy that Lucian has there.”

Divine had just pulled her helmet on, but paused in doing up the chinstrap to glance at him with a frown. “Marcus Notte?”

“That Marco guy at the carnival is Marcus Notte. The Nottes are in deep with the Argeneaus now. Marguerite is married to Julius Notte, and Christian is her son. He and his cousins are spending more and more time with the Argeneaus in Canada. They’re getting tighter all the time. In fact, if you encounter a Notte, you may as well think of him or her as an Argeneau.”

Divine digested this news, aware of the disappointment that pinched her at the news that Marco was really Marcus Notte, a spy for her uncle Lucian. Sighing, she shook her head, peered at her son, and asked slowly, “Where do you get all this information?”

“Abaddon has spies everywhere,” Damian said with a grin. “How do you think I’ve managed to avoid your family all these years?”

The usual guilt slid through Divine at the reminder that her own family was hunting her son, that he’d been forced to live the way he did because of them. Mouth tightening, Divine merely nodded, did up her chinstrap, and mounted her motorcycle. The keys were in the ignition and she started the engine, and then glanced to her son and opened her arms when he stepped forward for a hug.

“Be careful,” he admonished before stepping back, and Divine forced a smile and nodded, then set the bike in motion. Her mind was a whirl of confusion as she drove away though. Her brain was still healing from the attack that had apparently caved in her skull, and memory was returning quickly, including the conversation she’d heard on wakening the first time. The more she remembered of it, the more questions it raised in her mind. There were certain key phrases that bothered her.

They are scared of her so hit her with a little more strength than necessary.

The part about the boys being afraid of her didn’t surprise her much. She’d had to knock a few heads recently when the boys did stupid things like taking too many risks and drawing attention to themselves. From what she understood, it was a couple of the boys acting up and getting caught by the Argeneaus that had forced Damian to try to rescue them, nearly getting him caught too.