by Lynsay Sands
She glanced to him with surprise. “You mean Mr. Planned-to-Kill-His-Wife?”
Marcus nodded.
Divine thought about it. She hadn’t considered that the little weasel might have the courage to do something like this. She still wasn’t sure he had. It was possible though.
Spotting the lights of a gas station on the roadside ahead, Divine slowed.
“They have a vacuum station,” Marcus pointed out.
“And a public washroom.” Divine pulled in and slid to a halt next to the station entrance. “You can clean up and grab a snack while I vacuum out the back.”
Marcus had reached into the back for the duffel bag on the bench seat, but paused at her comment.
“You need to feed,” she said quietly. “Better that you do it while you still have it under control.”
He let out a slow breath, and nodded solemnly as he finished grabbing his bag. “Leave the vacuuming. I’ll do it when I come out.”
“Sure,” Divine said easily as he got out. He closed the door and went into the store, coming back out a moment later with the washroom key in hand. Divine watched until he slid into the bathroom, and then drove over to the vacuum station. There was change and small bills in the cup holder in the center of the SUV between the front seats, and Divine grabbed a handful of it and slid out. A moment later she had the back door open, the vacuum going, and was cleaning up the mess in the back of the SUV. There was a lot of mess. Divine was only halfway through the task when Marcus appeared beside her.
“I said I’d do this,” Marcus said with exasperation, taking the vacuum hose from her.
“You can finish it while I use the restroom,” she said with a shrug, and then turned to head for the gas station entrance to get the key he’d just returned. One look at the lone gas station attendant and Divine knew Marcus hadn’t fed. She supposed she could have fed on him herself, but found she just couldn’t do it. If bagged blood was as good as getting it off the hoof . . . and if Marcus, who needed it more than she did, hadn’t fed on the man . . .
It looked like they were going to have to find some bagged blood, she thought grimly as she headed around to the washroom door on the side of the building. Divine didn’t have to go to the bathroom, but she did want to splash some water on her face and maybe wake herself up a bit. She was exhausted, but had a bit of a drive ahead. She had no idea where the nearest blood bank was, but suspected she’d have to drive into San Bernardino to find one.
Marcus was done with the vacuuming and on the pay phone outside the station when Divine came back around the building. She stiffened at the sight, but continued past him to return the key. He was hanging up when she came back out.
“We’re in luck,” he said, stepping away from the phone as she approached.
“Are we?” Divine asked mildly.
“Yeah. We aren’t far from Los Angeles. There’s a family friend who lives outside the city. His place is only about half an hour from here. He can give us some bagged blood to tide us over until Bastien can get more out to us.”
“Us?” she queried carefully.
“I explained that the fire no doubt destroyed everything you had on hand too and you would need a fresh supply as well,” Marcus said solemnly.
Divine merely nodded and turned to walk toward the RV. She hadn’t had any blood in her RV, and he knew that. He had to know that from her reaction to just the sight of the bagged blood, but he’d covered for her. She wasn’t sure what to make of that.
“I’ll drive,” Marcus said when she automatically headed for the driver’s side. “You probably didn’t get much sleep while watching over me, and I’m definitely not going to sleep. You may as well get some rest on the way. Besides, I know the way and you don’t.”
Divine merely nodded and shifted direction, heading for the passenger side instead. She was aware that Marcus was following her, and was confused by it until he opened the passenger door for her.
“Thank you,” she murmured self-consciously, stepping up into the vehicle.
“My pleasure,” Marcus murmured and closed the door.
Divine shook her head, and simply strapped on her seat belt. She wasn’t used to being treated like . . . well, like a lady. She had been independent for so long, really living more like a man than a woman for most of her life. From the time she’d been able to lead her own life she’d . . . well, she’d been on her own. Carrying her own weight and sometimes the weight of others. She’d opened her own doors, found her own meals, paid her own way. She wasn’t used to someone else arranging for her meals, and opening doors. She wasn’t sure how to handle it.
“The seat adjusts,” Marcus announced as he slid into the driver’s seat. “It reclines, the lumbar support adjusts, and the head raises and lowers. Here I’ll show you,” he added when Divine glanced at him blankly.
She sucked in her breath and plastered herself backward into the seat when Marcus suddenly reached across her and down to the buttons on the outside of the passenger seat. Her seat slowly reclined, far too slowly in her opinion, since he remained draped across her the whole while. Once she was nearly flat on her back, he took her hand and led it down to the buttons.
“This one lifts and lowers the bottom part of your seat. This one raises and lowers your headrest. This one moves you back and forth if you shift it back and forth, but raises and lowers you if you turn it this—”
“I’ve got it,” Divine gasped out, desperate to get him off her. The man must have done some serious cleaning up in the restroom at the gas station. He’d changed his clothes, but must also have performed a standing wash in the sink. That was her guess. Marcus smelled clean and masculine without even a whiff of the scorched skin smell of earlier and she found it a bit distressing for some reason.
Marcus raised an eyebrow at her breathy words, but straightened and did up his own seat belt. As he started the engine, he said, “Just relax. We’ll be there in a jiffy and then both of us can feed and get some proper sleep.”
Divine murmured in the affirmative, and then leaned back and closed her eyes. Despite that, she was positive she wouldn’t sleep a wink. Despite the stress and exhaustion she’d been suffering for the last twenty-four hours, she was too wound up to sleep. The problem was, she couldn’t figure out the reason for being wound up, except that it seemed to increase every time he got close to her. Weird, was Divine’s last thought before that sleep she was sure she couldn’t achieve overtook her.
Marcus found his gaze repeatedly shifting from the road to Divine as he drove. She’d fallen asleep quickly after heading out of the gas station, but then she’d looked exhausted when he’d woken up. He’d guess she hadn’t slept at all since coming back to find her RV on fire. She’d been taking care of him instead and that was something Marcus wasn’t used to. He’d spent most of his life looking out for others. As a boy, his grandfather had taken him aside and charged him with the task of looking out for his uncle Julius. Despite being his uncle, Julius was actually two years younger than he. The pair had grown up together and had already been as close as brothers when his grandfather had made the request, but Marcus had taken it seriously. His grandfather had never said why he should look out for Julius, or who might be a threat to him, but that hadn’t mattered, Marcus had taken his charge to heart and acted as friend and bodyguard for centuries after that.
At least, he had until Julius’s son, Christian, was born. There had been some nasty business when the boy was young, and Julius had asked Marcus to look out for his son. He hadn’t had to ask twice. Marcus had then become Christian’s confidant and guardian, accompanying him everywhere and helping to guide him through life, keeping him safe as he did. The necessity for that had ended when Julius had connected with his life mate, Marguerite. The dangers their grandfather had worried about for Julius, and that Julius had later worried about for his own son, had been revealed and taken care of. Neither Julius nor Christian needed protecting any longer. Marcus had suddenly found himself without a charge to
look after . . . which had been incredibly strange for him. Marcus had felt a little lost and useless after that.
It was Marguerite Argeneau who had noticed his change in behavior and sudden lack of energy and had told him he was suffering what the mortals called “empty nest” syndrome. He was like a stay-at-home mother whose offspring have all grown up and left the nest, leaving him feeling unneeded. She’d then told him that Lucian had a personal issue he needed help with, a relative who might or might not be rogue that he was trying to find. Perhaps he could help Lucian find this individual, she’d said. At least it would give Marcus something to occupy his mind and time with while he adjusted to the change in situation.
Marcus had balked at the very suggestion that he was acting like a mortal housewife, but the idea of helping Lucian find this family member had held some appeal. Being useful to anyone at that point had seemed appealing. Not that he hadn’t had a job. He always had a job when he wanted it. The family business, Notte Enterprises, had many arms and he could have worked in any one of them if he chose. In fact, he had filled in for Julius quite a bit the last few years as Julius had adjusted to life with his life mate, but Julius had adjusted quite well now, and Marcus wasn’t really needed there.
Lucian, on the other hand, needed him, though he suspected the man would never say as much. This Basha Argeneau was someone he obviously very dearly wanted to find. He knew that because Lucian had been so cold in explaining things to him, and he’d found that with Lucian, the colder he was, the more important something was to him. It was like he had to divorce himself from all emotion to be able to deal with issues that touched closest to him. At least with issues where he feared the outcome wouldn’t be a happy one. Lucian simply could not divorce himself from emotion when it came to his life mate, Leigh, but Marcus knew he’d done that with his brother Jeanne Claude, when he’d learned that the man was feeding off mortals . . . and he was doing it again with Basha. He was also keeping his cards close to the vest in this situation. All Marcus knew about Basha was that she was his niece by a deceased brother. That she’d gone missing a very long time ago, and that her name had popped up in relation to Leonius Livius II, a rogue no-fanger who liked to feed on living mortals rather than make do with bagged blood. Those mortals often didn’t end up living when he was done with them.
As far as Marcus could tell, Lucian wasn’t even sure if the Basha in question was the niece who had gone missing so long ago. But he feared she was from the information he’d been given by one of Leonius’s sons, Ernie, and from Dee, a half-crazed mortal who had been traveling with Ernie.
Ernie had claimed she was Lucian’s niece, but Lucian couldn’t seem to believe the girl he knew would be tangled up with the likes of Leonius Livius II. Either way, he wanted the woman found and brought to him.
Marcus glanced to Divine again and wondered if she was the woman in question. It was hard to tell. There were no pictures of this Basha. They hadn’t existed back in the days when she’d gone missing, and by the time someone had suggested getting a sketch artist to draw a rendition, Dee and Ernie were not available to help with it. The Council had had Dee’s mind wiped, which had been the kindest thing to do for the girl, and Ernie . . . Well, the Council had already passed judgment and executed him.
In the end, it was Lucian who had worked with the sketch artist, but his memories of her were from more than two millennia ago. She’d been a young girl then, somewhere in her early teens by Marcus’s guess. They’d found someone to age the image, made up copies of the new picture, and had sent them out with every delivery of blood Argeneau Enterprises had sent out. Attached to the picture had been a letter requesting that anyone spotting this woman should please contact Argeneau Enterprises. There had apparently been countless calls, and Lucian had several people checking out the information gathered. Marcus was one of them. The call he was following up on had come from an immortal in Nevada who had visited the carnival some years ago and had spotted a fortune-teller named “Madame something or other” there, who he thought looked “kind of like the image.”
Marcus had gone to Nevada to interview the individual and find out what carnival, but the man didn’t know the name. He’d never troubled himself to find out, but he did give Marcus the date he’d attended it. Armed with that and the town name, Marcus had been able to find out for himself. The only problem was, once he’d tracked down the carnival and caught up to them, he was told that their fortune-teller, Madame Divine, had left a couple years back to join another carnival and they didn’t know the name of it.
This had forced Marcus to begin checking every carnival that had a fortune-teller. He’d been amazed at just how many carnival companies there were operating in the States, and had slowly been visiting each one. So far, he’d come across three immortals traveling with carnivals. One was a male who had been skittish as hell and had left the minute Marcus arrived, which made him think he should mention the man to Lucian. Traveling with a carnival would be a good way for a rogue to hide. The second immortal had been female. She also happened to be a fortune-teller like Divine, but had looked nothing like the sketch. Divine was the third immortal, also a fortune-teller. However, she did look a little like the sketch. At least, he thought she might if she was blond. He wasn’t sure. Until he was, Marcus had to stick around and find out.
His gaze slid to her again and his mouth twisted with displeasure. At this point, he was really hoping she wasn’t Basha. He liked Divine. He also found he wanted Divine. And he couldn’t read or control her, but had started eating. He’d eaten that cotton candy the other day while distracted, and then a candy apple the afternoon of the fire when one of the girls, a greenie like himself, had stopped by the Tilt-A-Whirl to flirt and had offered it to him. The damned thing had looked delicious and his stomach had growled at the very sight, and before he’d known what he was doing Marcus had taken the apple with a muttered thank-you and bit into it.
That apple had been the most delicious damned thing he’d tasted in centuries. Juicy, sweet and tart all at once . . . Damn, he’d eaten it down to the core.
It was looking pretty certain that Divine was his life mate.
If she was Basha too . . . well, that was just a complication he didn’t need.
Sighing, Marcus turned into Vincent Argeneau’s driveway, stopped at the gate, and hit the switch to unroll his window. Rather than press the button announcing their arrival, however, Marcus reached over to gently nudge Divine.
“We’re here,” he announced quietly when she blinked her eyes open with confusion.
“I fell asleep.” She sounded surprised, and Marcus smiled.
“You’re exhausted. I could see that when I woke up. You need sleep.”
“Thanks,” she said dryly. “You really know how to charm a girl.”
“Sorry,” he muttered, realizing just how unflattering his words must have sounded. He hadn’t meant them that way. The woman was beautiful to him, even with her hair a mess, her face pale, and huge black bags under her eyes. He suspected she could stand in front of him wearing a potato sack and covered in mud and he’d still think she was beautiful . . . and that was a bit alarming.
Turning, Marcus pushed the button on the intercom on a post several feet from the closed gate to the driveway and then waited.
“Yes?” It was a woman’s voice. Probably Jackie, Vincent’s wife and life mate, Marcus thought as he gave his name.
“Come on up! We’re ready,” Jackie said, sounding almost painfully cheerful. It seemed obvious that Bastien had warned them about his traveling companion. Jackie was a private investigator before she married Vincent Argeneau and still was as far as he knew. She would be all over this like white on rice, doing everything she could to sort out if Divine was this Basha that Lucian was looking for . . . and that thought worried Marcus.
Pushing the worry aside for now, he slid his foot from the brake to the gas as the gate began to slide open.
Ten
Divine peered curiously aro
und as they headed up the driveway, her eyebrows rising as they got past the gate and she could actually see the house bathed in early morning sunlight. Two stories and huge, it was much more than she’d expected. This “family friend” was obviously the successful type. But then he hadn’t been hampered by having to slide by under the radar, Divine told herself. Besides, she might not have a big house and such, but she had saved up quite a bit of money over the years. She wasn’t exactly poor. She just couldn’t afford to draw attention to herself by throwing money around, so lived conservatively.
It would have been nice to have a real home though, Divine acknowledged sadly as she peered over the curtained windows and well-tended gardens. The kind of home that had a plot of land rather than an RV that moved every couple days, always sitting on rented land. But Divine had given up that dream long ago. Staying in one place was dangerous. Constant movement helped prevent capture.
Marcus pulled to a halt in front of the house, and turned off the engine. Glancing to her as he opened his door, he said, “Shall we?”
Divine’s eyes widened with surprise. “I was just going to wait in the SUV while you went in to get the blood from your friends.”
Marcus hesitated and then pulled his door closed. Turning to face her, he said solemnly, “Bastien is having the blood delivered here, but it won’t get here until possibly tomorrow, tonight at the latest. Vincent and Jackie offered to put us up until then. They’re going to feed us and give us rooms to sleep in.”
Divine frowned at this news. She hadn’t signed up for all of that. She wasn’t used to depending on others, and wasn’t comfortable doing so now. “I have to get back to the carnival, Marcus. Madge will be worried about me. I haven’t had a chance to call yet. And I have to get money out of the bank, buy a new RV, and set it up for customers. They count on me to—”
“You can call or text Madge from the house. I’m sure Vincent will be happy to let you use the phone. And you can’t buy a new RV until you can get to the money. It’s Sunday. The banks are all closed. So that will have to wait until tomorrow anyway.” Reaching out, he took her hands and said gently, “You need blood and a place to rest. Both of those are waiting just through that door.”
