Vampire Most Wanted: An Argeneau Novel (Argeneau Vampire)

by Lynsay Sands

  Cursing, she twisted her head from side to side to see that she’d been grabbed by two of her grandsons. No doubt the ones who had been sent to spy on her, Divine realized, and wondered how she could have forgotten about them.

  “Sit her in the chair and chain her up,” Abaddon ordered, standing, and Divine found herself strong-armed across the room and set in the chair he’d just vacated. One of her grandsons—one of Damian’s sons, she corrected herself—then moved to the refrigerator, opened it, and retrieved some chain and several padlocks from a stack of them inside. It appeared they’d come prepared. Divine only wished she had. She’d been so determined to talk to her son, she hadn’t considered a scenario like this.

  She remained silent as the two young no-fangers worked. Abaddon watched them, checked the chains afterward, and nodded his satisfaction. He then murmured something to one of the men. Despite her immortal hearing, all Divine caught were the words “I want you to go wait for—” as Abaddon walked the man out of the room. He returned alone a moment later, but didn’t even cast a glance toward Divine before beginning to pace, head down, expression thoughtful.

  Divine frowned, her gaze sliding to the young no-fanger still behind her. He’d moved to lean against the wall, a bored expression on his face. Her gaze slid back to Abaddon, still pacing. “What are we waiting for?”

  “Your life mate,” Abaddon answered absently, continuing to pace.

  “Well then you’re wasting your time,” she said at once. “Marcus won’t come here. He doesn’t know where I am.”

  “Yes he does. I left a message for him at the hotel with this address,” Abaddon murmured, taking out his phone when it made the sound of a foghorn. It was obviously a text message, and one that annoyed him, because he began tapping out a message in response, his mouth twisted with displeasure. He finished his message, started to slip the phone back in his pocket, only to pause and draw it back out when it made that foghorn sound again. He muttered with exasperation at whatever the latest incoming message said, and quickly typed another response. This time as he returned the phone he glanced to Divine and announced with irritation, “Your son is bored.”

  “Not my son,” Divine said coldly. “You’re the one who encouraged him to be the way he is.”

  “Well, yes, because that’s what a parent does, Basha,” he said with exasperation. “A parent is supposed to encourage the child.”

  “He wasn’t your son to encourage,” she growled.

  “No, but then neither was his father, and I encouraged him and helped him find his full potential too,” Abaddon said with a shrug.

  “You helped Leonius Livius find his true potential?” she echoed dubiously.

  “Of course. Do you really think he came up with the idea of creating an army of his own sons all by himself?” he asked dryly. “The man didn’t think past his next pleasure, let alone the next day. He wasn’t concerned about the other Atlantean refugees getting wind of what he was doing and rising up against him.”

  Divine merely stared at him. She’d always thought that Abaddon was just another follower of the man. That he’d shown up on the scene after Leonius Livius was well into the plan. Now he was suggesting he’d been there at the start of it.

  “Most no-fangers are mad, but not really naturally cruel,” he lectured, apparently determined to convince her and lay claim to the dubious honor of being the puppet master behind the monster. “Mostly they just seem to be lacking a conscience and don’t care who or how they hurt others to get what they want. The cruelty Leo has and his father had before him, though? That had to be nurtured and helped to grow in them and I did that for both of them, Leonius Livius I and the son you raised.”

  Divine stared at him with horror. “You ruined Damian.”

  He snorted at the claim. “Nonsense! I didn’t put the knife in his hand the first time he chopped up a child. I just helped him develop to his full potential once he revealed it.”

  She was shaking her head in denial before he even finished speaking. “He had a conscience, you said yourself he was weeping and fretting over what he’d done. He knew it was wrong. If I had known and—”

  “He was weeping and fretting at the possibility of getting caught and the consequences of it,” Abaddon corrected sharply. “He was afraid his mommy would be angry and not love him anymore.” Lips pursing with disgust, he added, “The boy has some serious mommy issues, Basha. Despite everything I’ve done for him, he will listen to you over me when he feels he has to, to appease you . . . and he doesn’t want you hurt or angered either.” He scowled and added, “Mind you, he might worry less about that if he knew his precious mommy was thinking of turning him in to her uncle Lucian. What kind of mother does that make you?”

  “He’s torturing and raping innocent mortals,” she barked defensively, stung at the accusation that wanting to stop Damian made her a bad mother.

  “And killing. Don’t forget that,” Abaddon added with a grin. “But innocent, bah!” he sneered, and then said with disgust, “Most of them are runaways, whores, and junkies who had a short life expectancy anyway.”

  “Made even shorter by my son’s arrival in their life,” Divine growled. “And you said most of them are, what about the others? How many lives has he brought to an early end? How many women has he tortured before killing?”

  “Women and men,” he corrected. “Unlike his father, Leo has a liking for family picnics. Something you instilled in him, by the way.”

  “Family picnics?” she asked with bewilderment.

  “Yes, you know, finding a nice wholesome family out on a farm and taking them all out to the barn for a meal. Although I believe you used to take them one at a time, and generally on the back porch or behind the barn. Of course, you never let him hurt or kill them, making him take just enough blood to get by before putting them back in their beds. Still, those are fond memories for him and he likes to relive them.”

  “Relive them?” she echoed uncertainly.

  “Yes. Mind you, Leo likes to do things on a much grander scale.”

  “Grander how?” she asked, sure she wouldn’t like the answer.

  Abaddon considered her briefly, but apparently couldn’t resist and rushed over to claim the chair across from her. Leaning on the table, he smiled enthusiastically and explained, “See, he gets half a dozen or so of the boys together, and they find an isolated farmhouse with a nice big family. But that’s where his feedings differ from the ones you took him on. Instead of taking one member at a time, he and the boys roust everyone from their beds and take the whole family down to the barn together. Now, they’re still in their pajamas, mind, and Mommy and the kids are huddled together with a couple of boys keeping them from running or looking away, and they get to watch while Daddy is strung up by his feet like a pig for slaughter, and then . . .” He shrugged. “Well, they slaughter him.”

  Divine closed her eyes against the images he was painting, but they continued to play across her mind as he added, “It’s really something to see, the boys all working together with their dad as they slice and dice their prey. They do it slowly, of course, to draw out the pleasure.”

  “Shut up,” Divine whispered.

  “Sometimes they get thirsty and stop to chug blood from the pails they set out beneath him to catch the precious liquid, but other times—although this is only toward the end,” he assured her, “one of them will hit a major artery like a carotid, or—and this is cool—the ulnar or radial in one of the arms hanging down, and then they just stand there and let it squirt and flow into their mouth from his arm like it’s the spout of a teapot.”

  “Shut up,” Divine repeated, her voice stronger but raspy. It felt like her throat was closing up.

  “Oh, I’m sorry, am I making you thirsty?” he asked solicitously.

  “Thirsty?” she echoed with disbelief. “You’re making me sick.”

  “Oh,” Abaddon said with feigned surprise and then tsked and shook his head. “You always did have a weak stomach,
didn’t you? Ah well.” He shrugged and then said, “Anyway, that usually finishes off the dad and then they string up Mom next to him, also upside down, which is handy for getting her nightgown out of the way if she’s wearing one, and then they do it all over again. Of course, she’s followed by the eldest child and so on.”

  Unable to kill him chained to the chair as she was, Divine just bowed her head, trying to shut him out as he finished, “So there’s the bonfire, the blood, the screaming, and fun is had by all. The boys love it. They get all excited when Leo says they’re going on a family picnic.”

  “Dear God,” Divine breathed.

  “Oh, don’t be like that,” Abaddon chided. “You should be proud of your son. He’s at least equaled, if not surpassed, his father when it comes to acts of depravity. And that was despite having you for a mother, which was certainly a handicap, what with your goody-two-shoes ways.”

  “He’s not my child,” she said coldly, raising her head and staring through the man.

  “No,” Abaddon said sympathetically. “Your child was a girl with big silver-blue eyes and ice blond hair like yours is under that nasty dye. She—” He paused as his phone made another sound, this time a twitter. Pulling it out, he peered at the message and smiled. “Well, Marcus made good time too. He’s just pulling in.”

  Divine felt her heart sink at this news. Despite his saying they were waiting for Marcus, she’d hoped he was just lying to her or that Marcus would have the sense to not come in the end. She would even have been happy did he hate her now that he knew she was the woman who had unknowingly rescued a monster when she’d swept her son up and carried him away that day in the hotel. She hated herself for it now that she’d heard what he’d been up to all these years.

  Divine couldn’t imagine the blood the man she’d thought of as her son, Damian, had on his hands. But she knew every drop of it was on her hands too. She’d failed him as a parent. She should have escaped Abaddon the moment they were out of the camp. She should have . . . Well, truly, she didn’t know what else she could have done to prevent this, but she was sure there was something.

  Marcus stopped the rented sedan next to the SUV Divine had taken and surveyed the building ahead, wondering how many people there were inside. He was walking into the lion’s den, and doing so willingly. Why? Because the message left for him at the hotel had said that if he came and forfeited his life, Basha’s would be spared.

  As far as Marcus was concerned, that had left him little choice. She was his life mate. It was that simple. He’d rather cut off his own head than see her hurt in any way. He just didn’t know if giving up his life would save hers in the end. He wasn’t foolish enough to trust that this Abaddon who had left the message would really let Divine walk away.

  Marcus also didn’t know how long they had before Lucian and the others would track them down. They’d been expected back at the carnival last night. He’d called while in the taxi on the way to buy clothes last night to tell Vincent that they were going to be a little later than expected, that Divine had agreed to tell him everything, but it would take time. However, it was now noon of the following day and he hadn’t called again, nor had he answered any of the many calls from them this morning. First he’d been tied up and talking with Divine in the bedroom while his phone had been in the pocket of his jeans in the bathroom and he hadn’t heard the first of the calls, and then he’d been desperate to get to her so ignored the rest. Besides, he hadn’t known what to say, whether to call them in to help or not. Marcus wasn’t sure Divine was any safer in their hands than she was with the man she’d raised as her son.

  The sound of a car drew his gaze to the rearview mirror. Marcus wasn’t terribly surprised to see the car that came to a halt behind his rental. It had followed him all the way from the hotel in Vegas. But now that it was no longer keeping a safe distance between them, he could see the two men inside. They could have been twins despite the fact that one had a shaved head and the other had long, stringy unkempt hair. They were definitely sons of Leonius Livius II. All his sons seemed to take after him in looks.

  The men got out of their vehicle, but simply leaned against it, patiently waiting, both dressed in jeans and T-shirts. Neither looked too bothered by the fact that they were standing out under the noonday sun and would have to feed more because of it later. Marcus was though, because he knew they would feed on some poor mortal they snatched from her bed or off the street.

  Mouth tightening, he got out of the car and headed for the main door of the building, not even bothering to glance around to see if the men were following. Marcus knew they were. He would have known even if he couldn’t hear the crunch of the sand and stone under their Doc Martens.

  Twenty-three

  “Ah, here you are. Thank you for coming so speedily.”

  Divine pulled herself from her thoughts and glanced to the door as Abaddon said those words. Her heart leaped and then sank when she saw Marcus walking calmly into the room, two more of Damian’s sons on his heels.

  Leonius, she corrected herself. They were Leonius’s sons. He might have been Damian as a boy, but he was no longer. He had chosen his path, and he had chosen his name. He was Leonius Livius II now, and she could never let herself forget that.

  “Come, sit down,” Abaddon said jovially, gesturing to the chair he’d vacated just moments ago.

  Marcus crossed to the chair, his eyes moving over Divine with concern as he settled across from her.

  “I’m fine,” she whispered sadly, really wishing he hadn’t come.

  “Of course she’s fine, Marcus. Do you mind if I call you Marcus,” Abaddon asked, gesturing to the men, who immediately retrieved more chain and began to padlock Marcus to the chair. “And you, of course, should call me Abaddon. Or Abby if you like.”

  Marcus ignored him, as well as the men chaining him up, and merely stared into Divine’s eyes as if she was the only one there. She could see the silver swirling through the black of his eyes and was sure his emotions were a tumultuous mix of anger, worry, and some softer feeling she didn’t dare call love. But she didn’t know if he was angry at her or Abaddon. Probably both, she thought unhappily and then glanced toward Abaddon as he ordered the two newly arrived men to go out and keep an eye out for company. The two men left, leaving just Abaddon and the grandson who had stayed behind her all this time. He had remained leaning against the wall, looking bored, since she’d been chained to the chair.

  “Well,” Abaddon said, settling into the seat at the end of the table. “We have just been sitting here chatting about the good old days.”

  Marcus finally tore his eyes from Divine to acknowledge the other man by saying, “Divine told me you were one of the first Leonius’s men.”

  “His friend,” Abaddon corrected. “We were great friends.”

  “I’m surprised you had anything in common. You’re immortal, not no-fanger, aren’t you?” Marcus murmured, narrowing his eyes as he peered at the other man.

  “Oh, yes, well that’s true, but despite that we had a lot in common,” Abaddon assured him.

  “You like raping and torturing women too, do you?” Marcus asked grimly.

  “I’m more of a watcher than a doer,” Abaddon admitted with a little laugh. “Leo liked to cut them up, and I liked to watch them scream and squirm. It worked out very nicely.”

  Divine glanced at him sharply. She’d always thought she was alone with Leonius when he’d done the things he did. Now she wondered if Abaddon had been there somewhere, watching through a peephole the entire time. The thought just added to her humiliation.

  “Only the first time,” Abaddon said suddenly, apparently reading her mind. “And he threw me out after the first few minutes, which he never did with any of the other women,” he added resentfully, and then forced a smile and said, “Leo was oddly jealous of you . . . which I can understand completely, of course,” he added, running a lascivious gaze down her body. “He and I always had similar taste in women.”

 
Despite his ogling her, all Divine felt was relief that Abaddon hadn’t witnessed her humiliation, at least not past the first few minutes of it. Although she supposed it was silly to feel that way when all he had to do was read her mind to enjoy every second of it.

  “Enough of that though,” Abaddon said suddenly, sitting back in his chair and turning his gaze to Marcus. “Before you got here we were talking about Basha’s baby. I was telling her how pretty she was, and that she looked just like a mini version of her, but kind of plump and roundish as babies are.” His gaze shifted back to Divine. “You should have seen her, Basha. She really was adorable.”

  “What happened to her?” Marcus growled.

  Abaddon addressed the answer to Divine. “I cut off her head outside the tent while you were still inside panting from the exertion of birthing her. Leonius had no use for daughters.”

  Divine closed her eyes, but Marcus growled and tugged uselessly at his chains. “You—”

  “And you gave me Damian in her place?” Divine said quickly, interrupting Marcus. Abaddon might claim he enjoyed watching rather than doling out torture, but he was just as cruel in his way, and had been known to lash out. She wouldn’t have him lashing out at an incapacitated Marcus.

  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.”