Vampire Most Wanted
Page 7

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.
It was Abaddon who had called her saying Damian needed her. The man had been pretty vague about what the boys had been doing to draw attention to themselves, but Divine hadn’t worried too much about that at the time. She was a mother. She’d rushed north to save her baby and worried about the rest of it afterward. But afterward, no one would explain what had happened exactly. All of them had just kept saying they’d been stupid and acting up, and no amount of threatening or kicking butt had made them talk.
It was a great frustration to Divine that she couldn’t read her son or grandsons. She didn’t know why that was the case. Her own mother had been able to read her. The only thing she could think was that their being no-fangers rather than just immortals somehow hampered her ability to read them. Divine sighed inwardly. Her son being no-fanger hadn’t been the first strike life had thrown at him, but it was a bad one. She didn’t know why, but some immortals never developed the fangs others had. It meant he had to cut his victims to get the blood he needed to survive. Most of Damian’s sons were the same way and while Divine had been able to read every one of them as children, once they’d hit puberty she’d lost the ability. It made her think that the lack of fangs wasn’t the only difference in them.
Divine frowned over that, and then turned her attention to another thing that bothered her about the conversation she’d overheard. The bit about 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.
That part of the conversation bothered her for two reasons. For one thing, the bit about going through three girls made her think . . . Well, frankly, it sounded like he meant those girls had died. She had to be wrong about that though. She’d raised Damian right. He fed only when he had to, on the willing when he could, and never to the point of death. She’d pounded that into his head at an early age. It was how she was raised, and how she’d raised him.
As troubling as that had been, Divine was more concerned about Abaddon’s response when Damian had said that she was his mother and would never act against him.
I wouldn’t be so sure. If she ever found out . . .
Found out what? she wondered. What could Damian have possibly done that would make her withdraw her love and support of him? She didn’t know, but Abaddon’s words suggested he might have done something that would cause that withdrawal, and the fact that he’d flat-out lied to her about how she’d come to be injured was disturbing, as was the fact that he’d been so convincing in the lie. It made her wonder how many other lies he’d told her in the past.
Divine passed a billboard promoting the Kern County fair, and her mind turned to another worry. Marco. So his name was really Marcus Notte, and he was a spy for Lucian Argeneau. It explained why he was at the carnival. The man wasn’t rogue after all, and judging by the questions he’d asked last night, he might suspect she was Basha, but he wasn’t sure. That was a good thing at least. She also thought it was probably a good thing that she’d started dying her hair a couple of years ago. Not that anyone probably had a clear idea of what she looked like anymore, except perhaps for her uncle and some of the other older immortals who had met her when she was young.
They hadn’t had cameras back then, or portraits even, so wouldn’t have an image to go by unless Lucian had arranged for one of those sketch artist pictures or something. He might very well have done that, but if he had, he would have been depending on his memory, which was admittedly good. Still, he hadn’t seen her for more than two millennia. That was a long time. Besides, any sketch of her would show her as a blond which she presently wasn’t. She’d started dying her hair dark auburn just before joining the Hoskins Carnival and was now glad she had. It might not have completely put Marcus off her trail, but it couldn’t have hurt.
Divine spent a moment trying to sort out what to do about him. First she thought avoiding him would be best, but then that seemed useless. The man wasn’t going to leave unless she convinced him she wasn’t Basha and she couldn’t do that by avoiding him. The problem was, she was the woman they all thought of as Basha. That being the case, how was she supposed to convince him she wasn’t?
No ideas came to mind by the time she reached the carnival, and Divine decided the best thing she could do was act natural around him. If she didn’t act nervous or let on she knew anything, he might eventually decide she wasn’t the woman he was looking for. Aside from that, perhaps by talking to the man as if he were a friend rather than an enemy, she could learn just what the Argeneaus knew about her and her son. Maybe even what those risky actions were that her son and grandsons had got up to when she’d had to save him from her uncle.
Several people greeted her as she rode through the carnival grounds. She returned the greetings, but didn’t slow until she got to the RV. She made quick work of putting away the motorcycle and helmet and closing the panel, then turned and gasped, coming up short to avoid crashing into Marcus.
“How are you?” he asked.
Divine frowned briefly at the concern on his face. It was as if he knew— Dropping the thought there, she brushed past him, muttering, “I’m fine.”
“There’s blood on your clothes, and in your hair.”
Divine had forgotten about it with everything else on her mind. The part about there being blood in her hair was news to her though. She reached up instinctively to feel the side of her head, mouth tightening as she felt the crusty collection of dried blood there. She didn’t stop walking though, and as she mounted the steps to her RV, repeated, “I’m fine.”