Her gaze slid to Marcus and she noted his pallor. She had seen him feed several times while he was going through the worst of the healing, but he obviously needed more. “You need to feed again.”
“Yeah. The problem is there’s no more blood in the refrigerator and it will take some time to get more delivered,” he said, sounding weary.
Divine arched an eyebrow with disapproval. “You know bagged blood is like junk food for immortals, don’t you?”
Marcus’s eyes widened slightly. “Where did you hear that?”
“From Ab— a friend,” she corrected quickly, and then shrugged. “Most of the nutrients are destroyed once they leave the body, and the longer it’s refrigerated, the less good the blood does. It’s like drinking from a dead person. Pretty much useless.”
Marcus frowned. “I’m sorry, but your friend was misinformed, Divine. If what he said was true, mortals couldn’t use bagged blood for transfusions and such. As long as the blood is kept at the proper temperature, it still holds on to its nutrients. It’s as good as getting the blood straight from the source.” He hesitated and then added solemnly, “That’s why immortals are restricted to bagged blood now. It’s just as nutritious, but doesn’t carry the risk of discovery like biting mortals does.”
“Immortals are restricted to bagged blood?” she asked with surprise.
He nodded and walked slowly back to join her behind the vehicle. “Except in cases of emergency, we aren’t supposed to consume anything but bagged blood.”
Divine frowned at this news. “And if they do?”
“They’re considered rogue,” he said quietly. “At least they are here in the U.S. and in Canada. Feeding off the hoof is still allowed in Europe and some other places, but even there it’s frowned on more and more.”
Divine sank to sit on the end of the SUV. She hadn’t realized they had made that rule. She hadn’t realized that bagged blood could even sustain them. Abaddon had said— Divine closed her eyes and bowed her head. She should have known better than to trust anything Abaddon said, and normally she was skeptical of everything he told her, but it had sounded so logical. Not that it would have made much difference. She didn’t have access to blood banks and would have been forced to feed off the hoof anyway. That thought made her glance to him curiously. “So, what do immortals do? Rob blood banks or something?”
Marcus smiled crookedly at the question and shook his head. “They run their own blood banks. They collect the blood, and immortals purchase it like a mortal would buy steak or potatoes at a grocery store.”
“They actually sell it in stores?” Divine asked with surprise.
“No, of course not. Immortals order it and it’s delivered to their residence or where they’re staying,” he said with amusement.
“Oh,” Divine murmured. “So how do you order it?”
“Argeneau Enterprises runs the blood banks and distribution of—”
“Of course they do,” she said on a sigh and stood to walk around to the driver’s seat. If the Argeneaus were involved in the distribution, she couldn’t risk ordering it and drawing attention to herself. She would just have to continue on as she was going. It was a bit distressing to think that she was considered rogue now though.
Well, she’d been considered rogue before this, Divine supposed, but unfairly in her opinion. This, however . . . well, she knew the rule and could order the blood, but was choosing not to, so she supposed she truly was rogue now.
“Come on,” she said, slipping into the driver’s seat.
Marcus closed the back door and walked around to get in the front passenger side. “Where are we going?”
Divine paused, and then asked, “How long would it take you to get blood delivered to you?”
Marcus grimaced, and shook his head. “Bastien said to let him know when I was down to a couple days’ supply because it would take him that long to get fresh blood to me.”
Divine nodded and turned forward to start the engine, “Well then, we’re going to find you donors. You can’t wait two days for bagged blood, you’re pale and sweating. I’d guess you’re in pain too?”
He nodded reluctantly when she glanced over. “Yes, but—”
“There are no buts here, Marco. You need blood and this is an emergency. You haven’t seen yourself. You’ve healed to the point of scarring, but the burn scars aren’t going away. The nanos don’t have enough blood to work with. They’re obviously trying to find it though.” She peered at him solemnly as he felt his face, and then leaned over to flip down the visor so that he could see himself in the mirror on the underside.
Marcus winced in shock at the sight of his own scarred flesh.
“It’s an emergency,” Divine repeated grimly. “The nanos still have a lot of work to do. You’re going to be brainless with bloodlust pretty quickly if we don’t get some blood into you.” She flipped the visor back up again and shifted the car into gear. “So, we find you a donor.”
“Yeah, all right,” he agreed reluctantly. “But I should call that order in right now too.”
“You must have lost your phone in the RV or while escaping it,” Divine said as she noted him searching his pockets. “It’s not on you.”
“How do you know?” Marcus asked suspiciously.
“Because I searched your pockets for cash when I stopped for gas,” she admitted quietly. “I didn’t have enough on me to fill this gas guzzler and didn’t want to steal the fuel. Fortunately, you had your wallet still. But I found it in the last pocket I searched and didn’t come across a phone, so—” She shrugged as she turned off the dirt track and onto an actual road. “You don’t have it on you.”
“My wallet?” Marcus asked, suddenly looking wary, and Divine smiled.
“Afraid while looking for money I spotted your credit cards and driver’s license and noticed that your name is Marcus Notte, not Marco Smith?” she asked with amusement. When he appeared at a loss as to how to address that, she shook her head and said lightly, “There’s no need to look so guilty. Lots of people use fake names when they join the carnival.”
Marcus grunted at that and seemed to relax in the seat, although his hands were still clenched as he battled the pain he was struggling with. After a moment, he offered a weary “Thank you again for taking care of me.”
“It’s not like I had anything better to do,” Divine said wryly, her attention mostly on her driving. “My home and business were both destroyed in the fire, as was the money I keep at hand. I’ll have to wait until Monday to get enough cash to buy another RV and start over.” She glanced over with a touch of amusement curving her lips and added, “That means I’m at your disposal for the next day at least.”
“Lucky me,” Marcus said quietly, and it didn’t sound like sarcasm. But then he probably was thinking it was lucky, Divine supposed. After all, his job was to discover if she was Basha Argeneau, and no doubt having her at his side for the next twenty-four hours could only help in that endeavor.
“Divine?”
“Hmm?” she murmured, her attention already split between driving and trying to decide where best to go to find him the blood he needed. It was Saturday night. Well, Sunday morning really, she acknowledged, glancing at the dashboard clock that read 12:30. A big city was always her preference. She could go to bars there and easily lure a man or three outside for a little bite, one at a time, of course. But big cities weren’t always easily accessible from carnival locations that sometimes set up in mid-sized or even the occasional small town. No one, mortal and immortal alike, wanted to drive for hours for a meal, and she was sometimes forced to feed in more rural areas. In those cases, she tended to pick homes well away from the general population—farms that were mostly self-sufficient and where the inhabitants didn’t have to go into town every single day. It made getting caught less likely.