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.