“Thank you,” Divine murmured.
“Don’t thank me until you taste it,” he said with a smile, and then glanced around the kitchen, pursed his lips, and muttered, “I’m not sure where you’re going to eat though. I’m afraid we’ve sort of taken over everywhere with our apple making.”
“No problem,” Marcus said stabbing one last stick into an apple and then reaching to take the plates from Divine. “We’ll eat in the front cab.”
“The front cab?” Divine asked uncertainly as he started to turn away.
“Yeah. Come on,” he said, heading for the lounge.
“Hang on, you’ll need these,” Tiny said, and when Divine turned back he was holding out a tray with silverware, two cups of coffee, cream and sugar.
“Thanks.” Divine took the tray and turned away to follow Marcus.
He led her through the lounge to the curtained off front of the RV and held the curtain aside for her to pass. Divine slipped by him and then hesitated before choosing the passenger seat. She then glanced to the center console between the two front seats, happy to see that like on hers, a flap could slide forward to make it a table of sorts.
“The seats turn too,” Marcus said, settling in the driver’s seat.
Divine merely nodded and set the tray on the console, then leaned to the side a bit to adjust her seat so that it would turn toward the center console. She then took both plates from Marcus so that he could do the same.
“Thanks,” he murmured, taking back one of the plates. After a hesitation, he turned the tray so that it only took half the console. That left just enough room for their plates to rest next to it and they both set their plates down.
“It smells good,” Divine murmured, peering over the folded-over flap of something pale yellow on her plate. “Tiny called it an omelet?”
“Egg folded over—” Marcus lifted part of the upper flap to see what was inside. “—cheese, onion, green pepper, and sausage.”
Divine lifted the top corner of her half to peer inside. It looked a bit of a mess inside, but smelled divine.
“Christian loves these. Caro makes them for him all the time,” Marcus commented, cutting off a piece. “I’ve never been tempted to even try one before this, but now . . .” He paused and smiled wryly as his stomach rumbled, then shrugged and popped the bite of omelet into his mouth.
Divine watched him chew and swallow and then raised an eyebrow. “Well?”
“Mmmm, amazing,” Marcus announced, cutting off another piece.
“Thank you,” Tiny called out from the other side of the curtain.
Divine chuckled and cut a piece for herself. She was more tentative about putting it in her mouth though. This eating business was really quite new to her still. She shifted the food around inside her mouth, chewed experimentally, and then smiled as she swallowed. Turning to the curtain, she called out, “He’s right. Amazing.”
“Thank you,” Tiny repeated cheerfully.
They ate in silence for a bit, but it had been so long since she’d eaten that Divine was full before she’d eaten a third of her omelet. She hadn’t eaten much last night either, she recalled as she set her plate down and turned her attention to the coffees on the tray. Madge and Bob drank coffee all the time. Divine had never tried it. Now she peered at the dark liquid uncertainly.
“Bob drinks his with cream and sugar, but Madge takes it black. Less calories she says,” Divine commented.
“You don’t have to worry about calories,” Marcus said with amusement. “But if you aren’t sure how you’ll like it, try it black and then add cream and sugar and try it again.”
“Good idea,” she said, and picked up the nearest cup to take a sip, grimacing at the flavor. Good God it was bitter and . . . well, she didn’t even know how to describe it. Swallowing the bit she’d taken, Divine set the cup back and put two teaspoons of sugar in, and then poured some cream in as well until it was a pretty caramel color. She stirred it for quite a while before risking tasting it again.
“Well?” Marcus asked.
Divine shrugged a bit. “Better.”
He chuckled at her lack of enthusiasm and fixed his coffee the same way, then took a sip and sighed. “I like it.”
She smiled at his expression. He looked . . . satisfied, she decided, and sipped at her coffee again.
“Shall I tell you about Atlantis now?”
Divine glanced up with surprise at the question. “Now?”
“You have anything better to do?” he asked.
Smiling wryly, she shook her head. She could hardly escape just now, unless she could come up with an excuse to slip his presence for a bit.
“Maybe you should tell me what you know about our . . . state?”
“Our state?” she asked with amusement.
“Well, why we’re different than mortals. Do you know about nanos?”
Divine nodded. “Yes. My nanny only told me that I was different than others and needed blood to survive, but my gran told me once that I was different because I had nanos and they were what needed the extra blood.” She smiled faintly at the memory. “When I asked what nanos were she said they were basically little tiny miracle workers in our blood that kept us healthy and well.”
“That’s it?” Marcus asked with a frown.
“It was bedtime and she was trying to get me to sleep,” Divine explained and then sighed and added, “I did ask once or twice about the nanos, but we were usually in the middle of something when I thought of it; teaching me to control minds, or how to stalk prey . . .” She shrugged. “Grandfather promised they’d teach me everything eventually, but the priority was to ensure I knew how to survive and knew the rules about feeding. After that they could teach me our history.”
“The rules about feeding?” Marcus asked, eyes intent.
“Grandfather had rules,” Divine explained and listed them off, “I was never to draw attention to myself, my people, or what we are. When feeding, I was to always treat my host with the respect they deserved and never cause them pain or distress. And never ever was I to feed to the point of harming the health of, or killing, my host.”
Marcus sat back, expression thoughtful. When several moments passed like that, Divine asked, “So what are the nanos? And what has Atlantis to do with us?”
He hesitated and then said, “I’m going to give you the short answer.”
“Okay,” she said.
“Atlantis is where our ancestors came from. It was somewhat isolated from the rest of the world, and technologically advanced. While humans outside Atlantis were still wielding spears and sleeping around fires, our ancestors’ technology was beyond what we have even now today. One of the areas where their science was strongest was in health. Their scientists set out to develop a way to repair the human body internally, to mend wounds and fight infection without the need for invasive surgery or antibiotics and such. Nanos were their answer. Minuscule little . . .” Marcus hesitated and then said helplessly, “I’m no scientist, I’m not sure what they are exactly. I know they’re partially made up of human tissue or blood. They use blood to propel and reproduce themselves and they’ve been programmed like computers, with the human anatomy and whatnot and with the task of keeping their host at their peak condition.”
She arched her eyebrows. “So our needing blood is because the nanos use blood to reproduce themselves?”
“And to make repairs and fight infections, etc.,” Marcus said. “They also repair damage from the sun, pollution, illness, injuries, poisons, toxins . . . basically anything. And apparently it takes a lot more blood than we can produce to do all that.”