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.