Abaddon’s expression was amused when he turned to her. He knew exactly what she was doing, but all he said was “I know you like to think you named him Damian, but really, Basha, he was a day old and already named Leonius II when I placed him in your arms.”
He let that sink in and then laughed and added, “Although, I must say it’s ironic. Your name choice, I mean. Don’t you find it ironic . . . especially now? I mean, you must think he’s the devil’s spawn.”
When Divine just stared at him with bewilderment, he sighed with disappointment. “Of course, you don’t do anything as plebian as go to movies or watch television, do you? So you’ve never seen The Omen? No?” He shook his head. “Such a shame. I think you’d really enjoy it.”
Divine had no idea what he was talking about and no interest in movies at that point. She did have a lot of questions though. “Why?” she asked grimly. “Why give me the boy in my daughter’s place? Why rush me out of there with a child that wasn’t my own? Why not take the mother of the boy instead?”
“To give him a better chance at survival,” he said simply. “You are an Argeneau, the boy’s mother was just some mortal Leonius turned edentate. With you in her place, if we were caught making our escape, your uncle would have taken you both under his wing and home to his parents, and Leonius’s son would have been raised in the bosom of the very family who brought about his father’s downfall.”
Divine shook her head at once. “They would have known he wasn’t my son. He’s edentate, an immortal woman can only produce immortals.”
Abaddon glanced to Marcus. “I’m guessing you clarified the science for her? You must have. She was never around immortals before you. I made sure of that.” Smiling faintly, he sat back and suggested, “Perhaps you should tell her why they would have believed he could be her son.”
Marcus was silent for a moment, and Divine was just beginning to think he would refuse, but then he turned to her and said, “He’s right. They might have believed he was yours back then. Immortals tended not to mate with no-fangers so there wasn’t a lot of experience to go on. Besides, none of the scientists made it out of Atlantis, and it’s only been the last couple of centuries that mortal science has progressed enough for us to learn those kinds of things.”
“Exactly,” Abaddon said triumphantly. “Lucian would have accepted Damian as your son and probably would have helped you raise him too.” He sat back with a little sigh and said, “Wouldn’t that have been grand?”
“That’s what Leonius wanted, wasn’t it?” Divine said with sudden understanding, sure the bastard would have enjoyed the irony of that.
“Hmmm,” Abaddon murmured with a nod. “And I’m sure he died happily, thinking that would happen. Sadly for him, I had a change of heart as I led you out of the camp and decided not being caught was preferred.”
“Why?” she asked at once.
“You mean aside from the fact that I would have been killed on the spot if we’d been caught?” Abaddon asked dryly and shook his head. “I’m afraid I wasn’t that loyal to Leonius. I found his behavior entertaining, certainly, but dying for him and his cause was just that one step beyond the call of duty in my mind.”
“Then why not just leave us and flee on your own once you were out of camp?” Divine asked at once, thinking how different things would have been had that happened. She would have had family, a home . . . Damian might even have turned out better.
“That’s why,” Abaddon said.
Divine blinked her thoughts away and peered at him with confusion, but it was Marcus who asked, “What’s why?”
Staring Divine in the eye, Abaddon said, “You would have had family, a home . . .” He stopped listing off the thoughts she’d been having and shrugged. “As ashamed as I am to admit it, I’m a vengeful prick. Even my mother used to say that.”
“You had a mother?” Divine snapped. “And here I was sure you were hatched like the rest of the snakes.”
“Name calling?” he asked with a laugh. “Really? That’s the best you can do?”
“Remove these chains and I’ll do better for her,” Marcus said silkily, drawing his gaze.
Abaddon smiled. “Now why would I do that? I have you both where I want you and I’m truly enjoying this.”
“Torturing her, you mean?” Marcus asked grimly. “You might not like to get your hands dirty with physical torture, but you certainly don’t have a problem torturing her mentally, do you? You’ve been doing that every time you’ve seen her for two thousand years.”
“Not as much as I’d have liked,” Abaddon assured him. “It was tricky with Leonius there. He’s protective of his mother . . . as a loving son should be,” he added with a sneer.
“Why?” Divine demanded before Marcus could respond to that. “Just tell me why the hell I earned so much antipathy from you? Why did you want me so fricking miserable all these years?”
Abaddon turned to peer at her. “The truth?”
When Divine nodded, he shrugged.
“Basically it’s because I don’t take rejection well.”
“Rejection,” she echoed with confusion, not having a clue what he was talking about.
Abaddon sighed with exasperation. “Here it’s been a thorn in my side for eons and you don’t even remember it?” he asked with annoyance.
“Remember what?” Divine asked with annoyance of her own. Cripes, if she’d been paying all these years for something, it would be nice to know what the hell it was.
“I offered to save you,” he said heavily, and when Divine stared at him blankly, he tsked irritably and reminded her, “On the ride back to camp the night we found you? You were all tied up and on my horse in front of me. When you thought no one was paying you any attention, you started to weep. I chucked your chin and you looked up at me with these big, beautiful, sad silver-blue eyes and I was moved,” he added with self-disgust. “I offered to save you from Leonius.”
“You offered to save me if I became your lover,” Divine said with remembered outrage as the memory came back to her.
“Would that have been worse than letting that animal paw and rape and cut you up?” Abaddon snapped.
“Let?” she snapped right back, leaning forward in her chair as much as the chains would allow. “I was eleven years old. A child. I had no idea what was in store for me. All I knew was some old pervert was pawing me up and demanding I be his lover or I’d be sorry.”
“But you weren’t, were you? You weren’t sorry at all,” he growled. “You enjoyed what he did to you.”
Divine slammed back against her chair as if he’d slapped her. Here was the seat of her shame. The reason she’d been sure her family would have turned from her as Abaddon had repeatedly claimed. The reason she’d spent her life running and hiding, even from herself. Most of the time, her captivity had been nothing but terrifying, screaming agony. But there were occasions . . . Divine hadn’t understood it at the time, but there had been sessions when she’d seemed to be experiencing Leonius’s pleasure in her pain, along with her agony. At first they were brief, just snapshots really, because Leonius had quickly stopped what he was doing and backed away from her when it happened, looking shaken and confused. But after half a dozen sessions like that, he hadn’t backed away, he’d continued on, raining a storm of pain and pleasure on her until she passed out.
That had shaken Divine, shaken her belief in herself. It had made her feel ashamed, dirty, unredeemable. Like there was something wrong with her. In her mind, what he did to her was abominable, inhuman. She’d been horrified and hurting. So how could she at the same time have experienced any pleasure at all?