Vampire Most Wanted
Page 5
Divine didn’t comment, but simply revved the engine and headed for the carnival grounds. This trip had been a complete and utter bust. Not only had she not escaped his presence, but she didn’t know much more about him than she had before. In fact, he’d learned more about her than the other way around. Not that he’d learned much either. At least she hoped he hadn’t, and wondered if Marco could read her.
Divine definitely hoped he could not read her, and she was pretty sure he couldn’t. Surely if he’d read who she was, he’d have said or done something by now? She fretted over that for the rest of the ride. By the time they reached the carnival grounds, she was eager to get away from the man and get a chance to think. Divine found it hard to concentrate with his hands on her and his body pressing up against hers. She supposed she just wasn’t used to a lot of physical contact. It was distracting.
Divine steered the motorcycle up the empty midway, but didn’t head for her RV, instead, turning off the midway between the Ferris wheel and one of the game stalls so that she could ride around to the opposite end of the back lot from her RV. It was where the bunkhouses were and where she presumed Marco was staying if he didn’t have someplace in town.
She brought the motorcycle to a halt by the first of the bunkhouses and braced her feet on the ground on either side of the motorcycle to keep it upright, but left the motor running as she waited for Marco to get off. After a slight hesitation, he did, and relief immediately rushed through her. When he then moved up beside her and said something she couldn’t hear, Divine decided it was probably thanks for the ride, or at least she wanted it to be. Eager to be off, she simply nodded and then sent the motorcycle shooting forward, driving along the outside of the back lot to reach her RV. Once there she dropped the kickstand and removed her helmet as she got off the motorcycle.
She was about to press the button to open the side panel to put the bike away when she heard a dull thud. It sounded like it came from inside her RV. Pausing, Divine listened briefly and heard a clinking sound. She set her helmet on the seat of her motorcycle and moved around to the door. She mounted the two steps, and slipped inside on silent feet.
There was no one in the curtained-off area where she saw clients. Divine eased across the floor, reached for the curtain, and tugged it to the side enough to peer through, but there was no one in the lounge and kitchenette area either. She wasn’t terribly surprised. The panel where she kept her motorcycle was off the bedroom. Letting her breath out slowly, she moved through the lounge, reached for the accordion door to the bedroom, but paused as a rustle sounded behind her. Before she could turn, pain exploded inside her head and then the lights went out.
Four
Marcus shifted sideways to avoid a group of the younger carnies on their way to the bunkhouses. They’d obviously been celebrating the end of the first day in a new town. Every last one seemed to be three sheets to the wind. It hadn’t been that long since closing, though, so they must have been hammering the drinks back. But then, it wasn’t like they had hours to relax. It had been midnight when they closed, and morning came early.
With that last thought in mind, Marcus picked up speed as he headed for Divine’s RV. Not only had the woman not answered him when he’d got off the motorcycle and asked if she was going back to Madge’s, but she’d been in such a rush to get away from him, she’d left without taking back her helmet. Which was rather depressing when he thought of it, because while she appeared eager to escape his company, his feelings were the exact opposite. Marcus had enjoyed their outing to the restaurant, short as it had been. He’d enjoyed verbally sparring with her, but even more, he’d enjoyed the ride to the restaurant and back, having his hands on her, his chest pressing against her back. It had been an invigorating experience.
“Hey, Marco!”
Turning his head, he peered silently at the man approaching. As tall as he, and nearly as wide, Chapman was the owner of the Tilt-A-Whirl Marcus had helped set up on being hired that day, as well as the corn dog stand he’d then run for the rest of the day with Kevin. Technically, Chapman was his boss, although Bob Hoskins, the carnival owner, had actually done the hiring. Marcus had thought it a little strange that Hoskins would insist on doing the hiring for everyone, even the independent ride owners. At least he had until he’d read the man’s mind. It seemed a local they’d hired to work the carnival in one of the towns some three years back had turned out to like children a little too much. He’d lured a little girl away from the midway while her mother was distracted and had led her to the bunks on the back lot. It was usually abandoned during the day. Fortunately, that day a full-time carnie had slid back to his own bunk on his break to grab something and had spotted the man ushering the little girl into one of the bunks. He’d intervened.
Unfortunately, he hadn’t got her back to the midway before the mother had noticed the girl missing and raised a fuss. The police had been called, and while it was a carnie who rescued the little girl and beat up the local temp in the process, the carnival had taken the heat. It made the headlines as “Carnival Worker Kidnaps Local Child” not “Local Hired as a Temp by the Carnival Kidnaps Local Child.”
Apparently, attendance had dropped right off after that, and Bob Hoskins and his wife, Madge, had nearly gone broke before the business had slowly bounced back. It was then that Bob Hoskins had insisted that from now on he would take over all hiring. It was also shortly after that that Madame Divine had joined their troop and offered her help in vetting the people applying. She had apparently weeded out some bad full-time carnies on joining the show, warning Bob and Madge that this one was up to no good, or that one was stealing from then. But she’d also begun sitting in on all the interviews and Bob Hoskins made his decisions based on her opinion.
At least she’d done so until that morning. According to Bob’s thoughts, personal business had taken her away shortly after their arriving at the carnival grounds at 4 A.M. She’d said she expected to be back by the time Bob started interviewing, but she wasn’t. Bob had reluctantly started interviewing, thinking he’d weed out the worst and most obvious “don’t hires,” and ask the others to come back for a second interview when Divine did return.
At least that had been his intention. However, Marcus hadn’t wanted the woman he suspected was Basha Argeneau reading his thoughts and knowing he was there to find out if she was the wanted rogue. So he’d slipped into the man’s mind, put the rebellious thought that he didn’t need her help, he’d worked in the business for years, he knew good people from bad. After all, he hadn’t hired the man who had kidnapped that girl, he could make up his own mind . . . at least in Marcus’s case.
Madge Hoskins had been a bit taken aback by her husband’s decision to hire Marcus without Divine’s seeing him first, but a little nudge from Marcus had helped her accept it and she’d gone through the paperwork with him and signed him up when Bob handed him over to her. According to what Marcus had read from Madge’s mind this evening before Divine had shown up, Divine hadn’t said a thing about Bob hiring Marcus. But then she hadn’t had much chance to. She’d returned from her personal business just as the carnival had opened its gate and had rushed to her RV to set out her sign and change. Other than two or three breaks when she’d asked around about Marco, she’d pretty much worked straight through except for those few minutes when Mr. Kill-My-Wife-for-the-Insurance-So-I-Can-Run-Off-with-My-Secretary had attacked her.
“Earth to Marco? Have you even heard a damned word I’ve said?”
Marcus blinked as Chapman’s hand waved in front of his face and then grimaced and shook his head with chagrin. “Sorry. I guess I’m a little tired.”
“I’ll say. It looked like you were sleeping on your feet,” Chapman said with amusement, and then shrugged mildly and said with understanding, “We work long days. It can take some getting used to.”
“Yeah. I can imagine,” Marcus murmured.
“Why don’t you go get some sleep. We need to check the rides before we open tomorrow, and I was thinking you’re wasted on the corn dog stand. I think you should run the Tilt-A-Whirl tomorrow.”
Marcus raised his eyebrows. “Isn’t that Stan’s job?”
“Yeah, well, I just got a call. Stan got rowdy in town and is in the clink. Not sure when they’ll let him out,” Chapman said grimly, and ran one weathered hand wearily through his thinning hair. Letting his hand drop back to his side, he shook his head. “I don’t know the whole story yet, but Stan’s a mean drunk. He probably popped the wrong person, the mayor’s son or something. If so, he could be in for a day or two and that leaves me short. One of the girls is going to run the corn dog stand so you can help me on the Tilter tomorrow. I’ll train you before we open.” He smiled wryly. “You seem a smart one for a change, which is a blessing. Usually the greenies we hire are either stupid, lazy, or slow, and you’re none of those. You shouldn’t have any problem with the Tilt-A-Whirl. Now go get some sleep.”
Marcus nodded, but the man was already walking away, his mind, no doubt, already on to the next problem. Chapman hadn’t even really been talking to Marcus so much as telling him how it was going to be. He seemed to be a type A personality, always under stress. Marcus figured at that rate the man, who was apparently fifty, wouldn’t make sixty, which was the age he already looked. That thought made Marcus glance around the back lot, noting the people making their way here or there. He’d noticed that most people here looked older than they were, men and women alike. If they looked fifty, they were probably forty. This life seemed hard on everyone, men and women alike. It made for interesting people though, he thought as he headed toward Divine’s RV.
As he walked between her RV and the fence around the Tilt-A-Whirl, Marcus noted that her motorcycle was nowhere in sight. The panel was closed. She must already have put the bike away, he thought as he reached and mounted the stairs to knock on her door.
He turned to glance along the midway as he waited for her to answer. It was strange to see it so empty and silent. It was like a ghost town, the various rides and stalls just dark shadows against the night sky. It was kind of creepy, really. He turned back to knock at the door again, but paused as he noted that there was no light showing though the window in the upper part of the door.
Frowning, he backed off the steps, moved to the side, and peered along the RV. There were no lights at any of the windows. The woman hadn’t only had enough time to get back and put her bike away, she’d already gone to bed too. That or she hadn’t come back yet, he realized. Maybe she’d gone back to Madge’s, he thought, and decided to wander over there and find out.
The sound of raised voices woke Divine and she opened her eyes, but immediately closed them again as pain shot through her pupils and into her throbbing head. Dear God, it felt like someone was using a saw on her skull.
For a moment, she was so caught up in the crushing agony that Divine wasn’t paying attention to the yelling in the room. After a moment, though, the pain eased somewhat. It was still there, but a dull, throbbing ache that she could bear if she didn’t move, open her eyes, or breathe too hard. Lying completely still and breathing shallowly, she waited for it to go away and slowly became aware of what was being said.
“—have to be reasonable. When the boys said she was cavorting with that Argeneau spy I had to order them to bring her in.”
“She wasn’t cavorting with him, Abby,” a voice she recognized as her son, Damian, said, fury in his tone. “She was looking for some mortal friends with him along for the ride. She didn’t want him along, and doesn’t even know who he is! You told me that yourself.”
“Yes, but I only know that because I read her,” the first male voice reasoned. Abaddon, Divine thought as the man continued, “The boys can’t read her, they’re too young. I am the only one who can read your mother.”
“So you told them to crush her skull and drag her back here?” Damian asked with disgust.
“I told them to knock her out and bring her back,” he corrected calmly. “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,” the man said soothingly.
“A little more strength?” Damian gave a snort of disgust. “We’ve gone through three girls giving her enough blood to heal. Now we have to find others.” There was a pause and then he demanded, “Which boys did you have spying on her? I want them punished.”
“I sent them out to get more girls. It will be fine. Let me handle it,” Abaddon urged.
“Like you handled this?” Damian asked sharply. He then snarled, “What the hell were they doing spying on her without my say-so? I won’t have you and the boys doing things behind my back.”
“You seemed to be enjoying that little blonde you were entertaining yourself with. I didn’t want to interrupt and trouble you with it, so I took it upon myself to send a couple lads out to keep an eye on Basha. I was concerned,” he added quickly. “With Lucian sending spies out to look for her, I thought it best to make sure there was someone nearby to help if she ran into trouble.”
“Dragging her back here half dead is not helping her.”
“She is immortal,” Abaddon reminded him patiently. “She was nowhere near death. She will be fine.”
“No thanks to you.”
A long sigh sounded, and then Abaddon urged, “Come, you have been up with her all night. You should rest.”
Divine definitely hoped he could not read her, and she was pretty sure he couldn’t. Surely if he’d read who she was, he’d have said or done something by now? She fretted over that for the rest of the ride. By the time they reached the carnival grounds, she was eager to get away from the man and get a chance to think. Divine found it hard to concentrate with his hands on her and his body pressing up against hers. She supposed she just wasn’t used to a lot of physical contact. It was distracting.
Divine steered the motorcycle up the empty midway, but didn’t head for her RV, instead, turning off the midway between the Ferris wheel and one of the game stalls so that she could ride around to the opposite end of the back lot from her RV. It was where the bunkhouses were and where she presumed Marco was staying if he didn’t have someplace in town.
She brought the motorcycle to a halt by the first of the bunkhouses and braced her feet on the ground on either side of the motorcycle to keep it upright, but left the motor running as she waited for Marco to get off. After a slight hesitation, he did, and relief immediately rushed through her. When he then moved up beside her and said something she couldn’t hear, Divine decided it was probably thanks for the ride, or at least she wanted it to be. Eager to be off, she simply nodded and then sent the motorcycle shooting forward, driving along the outside of the back lot to reach her RV. Once there she dropped the kickstand and removed her helmet as she got off the motorcycle.
She was about to press the button to open the side panel to put the bike away when she heard a dull thud. It sounded like it came from inside her RV. Pausing, Divine listened briefly and heard a clinking sound. She set her helmet on the seat of her motorcycle and moved around to the door. She mounted the two steps, and slipped inside on silent feet.
There was no one in the curtained-off area where she saw clients. Divine eased across the floor, reached for the curtain, and tugged it to the side enough to peer through, but there was no one in the lounge and kitchenette area either. She wasn’t terribly surprised. The panel where she kept her motorcycle was off the bedroom. Letting her breath out slowly, she moved through the lounge, reached for the accordion door to the bedroom, but paused as a rustle sounded behind her. Before she could turn, pain exploded inside her head and then the lights went out.
Four
Marcus shifted sideways to avoid a group of the younger carnies on their way to the bunkhouses. They’d obviously been celebrating the end of the first day in a new town. Every last one seemed to be three sheets to the wind. It hadn’t been that long since closing, though, so they must have been hammering the drinks back. But then, it wasn’t like they had hours to relax. It had been midnight when they closed, and morning came early.
With that last thought in mind, Marcus picked up speed as he headed for Divine’s RV. Not only had the woman not answered him when he’d got off the motorcycle and asked if she was going back to Madge’s, but she’d been in such a rush to get away from him, she’d left without taking back her helmet. Which was rather depressing when he thought of it, because while she appeared eager to escape his company, his feelings were the exact opposite. Marcus had enjoyed their outing to the restaurant, short as it had been. He’d enjoyed verbally sparring with her, but even more, he’d enjoyed the ride to the restaurant and back, having his hands on her, his chest pressing against her back. It had been an invigorating experience.
“Hey, Marco!”
Turning his head, he peered silently at the man approaching. As tall as he, and nearly as wide, Chapman was the owner of the Tilt-A-Whirl Marcus had helped set up on being hired that day, as well as the corn dog stand he’d then run for the rest of the day with Kevin. Technically, Chapman was his boss, although Bob Hoskins, the carnival owner, had actually done the hiring. Marcus had thought it a little strange that Hoskins would insist on doing the hiring for everyone, even the independent ride owners. At least he had until he’d read the man’s mind. It seemed a local they’d hired to work the carnival in one of the towns some three years back had turned out to like children a little too much. He’d lured a little girl away from the midway while her mother was distracted and had led her to the bunks on the back lot. It was usually abandoned during the day. Fortunately, that day a full-time carnie had slid back to his own bunk on his break to grab something and had spotted the man ushering the little girl into one of the bunks. He’d intervened.
Unfortunately, he hadn’t got her back to the midway before the mother had noticed the girl missing and raised a fuss. The police had been called, and while it was a carnie who rescued the little girl and beat up the local temp in the process, the carnival had taken the heat. It made the headlines as “Carnival Worker Kidnaps Local Child” not “Local Hired as a Temp by the Carnival Kidnaps Local Child.”
Apparently, attendance had dropped right off after that, and Bob Hoskins and his wife, Madge, had nearly gone broke before the business had slowly bounced back. It was then that Bob Hoskins had insisted that from now on he would take over all hiring. It was also shortly after that that Madame Divine had joined their troop and offered her help in vetting the people applying. She had apparently weeded out some bad full-time carnies on joining the show, warning Bob and Madge that this one was up to no good, or that one was stealing from then. But she’d also begun sitting in on all the interviews and Bob Hoskins made his decisions based on her opinion.
At least she’d done so until that morning. According to Bob’s thoughts, personal business had taken her away shortly after their arriving at the carnival grounds at 4 A.M. She’d said she expected to be back by the time Bob started interviewing, but she wasn’t. Bob had reluctantly started interviewing, thinking he’d weed out the worst and most obvious “don’t hires,” and ask the others to come back for a second interview when Divine did return.
At least that had been his intention. However, Marcus hadn’t wanted the woman he suspected was Basha Argeneau reading his thoughts and knowing he was there to find out if she was the wanted rogue. So he’d slipped into the man’s mind, put the rebellious thought that he didn’t need her help, he’d worked in the business for years, he knew good people from bad. After all, he hadn’t hired the man who had kidnapped that girl, he could make up his own mind . . . at least in Marcus’s case.
Madge Hoskins had been a bit taken aback by her husband’s decision to hire Marcus without Divine’s seeing him first, but a little nudge from Marcus had helped her accept it and she’d gone through the paperwork with him and signed him up when Bob handed him over to her. According to what Marcus had read from Madge’s mind this evening before Divine had shown up, Divine hadn’t said a thing about Bob hiring Marcus. But then she hadn’t had much chance to. She’d returned from her personal business just as the carnival had opened its gate and had rushed to her RV to set out her sign and change. Other than two or three breaks when she’d asked around about Marco, she’d pretty much worked straight through except for those few minutes when Mr. Kill-My-Wife-for-the-Insurance-So-I-Can-Run-Off-with-My-Secretary had attacked her.
“Earth to Marco? Have you even heard a damned word I’ve said?”
Marcus blinked as Chapman’s hand waved in front of his face and then grimaced and shook his head with chagrin. “Sorry. I guess I’m a little tired.”
“I’ll say. It looked like you were sleeping on your feet,” Chapman said with amusement, and then shrugged mildly and said with understanding, “We work long days. It can take some getting used to.”
“Yeah. I can imagine,” Marcus murmured.
“Why don’t you go get some sleep. We need to check the rides before we open tomorrow, and I was thinking you’re wasted on the corn dog stand. I think you should run the Tilt-A-Whirl tomorrow.”
Marcus raised his eyebrows. “Isn’t that Stan’s job?”
“Yeah, well, I just got a call. Stan got rowdy in town and is in the clink. Not sure when they’ll let him out,” Chapman said grimly, and ran one weathered hand wearily through his thinning hair. Letting his hand drop back to his side, he shook his head. “I don’t know the whole story yet, but Stan’s a mean drunk. He probably popped the wrong person, the mayor’s son or something. If so, he could be in for a day or two and that leaves me short. One of the girls is going to run the corn dog stand so you can help me on the Tilter tomorrow. I’ll train you before we open.” He smiled wryly. “You seem a smart one for a change, which is a blessing. Usually the greenies we hire are either stupid, lazy, or slow, and you’re none of those. You shouldn’t have any problem with the Tilt-A-Whirl. Now go get some sleep.”
Marcus nodded, but the man was already walking away, his mind, no doubt, already on to the next problem. Chapman hadn’t even really been talking to Marcus so much as telling him how it was going to be. He seemed to be a type A personality, always under stress. Marcus figured at that rate the man, who was apparently fifty, wouldn’t make sixty, which was the age he already looked. That thought made Marcus glance around the back lot, noting the people making their way here or there. He’d noticed that most people here looked older than they were, men and women alike. If they looked fifty, they were probably forty. This life seemed hard on everyone, men and women alike. It made for interesting people though, he thought as he headed toward Divine’s RV.
As he walked between her RV and the fence around the Tilt-A-Whirl, Marcus noted that her motorcycle was nowhere in sight. The panel was closed. She must already have put the bike away, he thought as he reached and mounted the stairs to knock on her door.
He turned to glance along the midway as he waited for her to answer. It was strange to see it so empty and silent. It was like a ghost town, the various rides and stalls just dark shadows against the night sky. It was kind of creepy, really. He turned back to knock at the door again, but paused as he noted that there was no light showing though the window in the upper part of the door.
Frowning, he backed off the steps, moved to the side, and peered along the RV. There were no lights at any of the windows. The woman hadn’t only had enough time to get back and put her bike away, she’d already gone to bed too. That or she hadn’t come back yet, he realized. Maybe she’d gone back to Madge’s, he thought, and decided to wander over there and find out.
The sound of raised voices woke Divine and she opened her eyes, but immediately closed them again as pain shot through her pupils and into her throbbing head. Dear God, it felt like someone was using a saw on her skull.
For a moment, she was so caught up in the crushing agony that Divine wasn’t paying attention to the yelling in the room. After a moment, though, the pain eased somewhat. It was still there, but a dull, throbbing ache that she could bear if she didn’t move, open her eyes, or breathe too hard. Lying completely still and breathing shallowly, she waited for it to go away and slowly became aware of what was being said.
“—have to be reasonable. When the boys said she was cavorting with that Argeneau spy I had to order them to bring her in.”
“She wasn’t cavorting with him, Abby,” a voice she recognized as her son, Damian, said, fury in his tone. “She was looking for some mortal friends with him along for the ride. She didn’t want him along, and doesn’t even know who he is! You told me that yourself.”
“Yes, but I only know that because I read her,” the first male voice reasoned. Abaddon, Divine thought as the man continued, “The boys can’t read her, they’re too young. I am the only one who can read your mother.”
“So you told them to crush her skull and drag her back here?” Damian asked with disgust.
“I told them to knock her out and bring her back,” he corrected calmly. “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,” the man said soothingly.
“A little more strength?” Damian gave a snort of disgust. “We’ve gone through three girls giving her enough blood to heal. Now we have to find others.” There was a pause and then he demanded, “Which boys did you have spying on her? I want them punished.”
“I sent them out to get more girls. It will be fine. Let me handle it,” Abaddon urged.
“Like you handled this?” Damian asked sharply. He then snarled, “What the hell were they doing spying on her without my say-so? I won’t have you and the boys doing things behind my back.”
“You seemed to be enjoying that little blonde you were entertaining yourself with. I didn’t want to interrupt and trouble you with it, so I took it upon myself to send a couple lads out to keep an eye on Basha. I was concerned,” he added quickly. “With Lucian sending spies out to look for her, I thought it best to make sure there was someone nearby to help if she ran into trouble.”
“Dragging her back here half dead is not helping her.”
“She is immortal,” Abaddon reminded him patiently. “She was nowhere near death. She will be fine.”
“No thanks to you.”
A long sigh sounded, and then Abaddon urged, “Come, you have been up with her all night. You should rest.”
