Vampire Most Wanted(91)

            And she was so pathetic her mind was doing somersaults trying to figure out how she could have him . . . which was impossible. She knew it was. Still, her mind was running in circles trying to work it out. Maybe if she explained what had happened. Maybe if she could make him understand . . .

            Of course there was no way of doing that. She couldn’t be honest with him without risking . . . Well, she wasn’t sure what she’d be risking. What would he do if she admitted she was Basha Argeneau? Would he restrain her until Uncle Lucian could get there? Or maybe he’d just kill her as other spies and scouts and so-called Rogue Hunters had been killing her grandsons for the last two thousand and seven hundred years, most of them under the age of ten, innocent children who had done nothing but been unlucky enough to be born her grandchildren.

            Divine sighed and pressed her forehead against the cool tiles of the shower wall, suddenly ashamed that she’d even let Marcus touch her, or shared a smile or laugh with Vincent and Jackie. She was consorting with the enemy. People she’d feared and loathed most of her life.

            On the other hand, her mind argued, her own grandsons had knocked her out and dragged her away from her RV and possibly later set it on fire, although she wasn’t sure about that. It could have been Allen Paulson, or some other mortal she’d angered over the years by foiling their less-than-pleasant plans.

            And her son was lying to her, Divine recalled. Damian had claimed that Marcus had knocked her out and the boys had saved her and brought her to him, when she knew he knew that wasn’t true. She could understand his reluctance to tell her that his sons had done it and turn her against them, but this made her wonder . . . What other lies had he told her over the years?

            More importantly, what had Damian done that Abaddon thought she might turn from her own son? That concern troubled her more than anything else. It made her suspicious and want to avoid him, and it made her frustrated that she couldn’t read him. If she just knew . . . well, not knowing, she was imagining all sorts of things, all of them horrible, because it would take a lot to turn her from the boy she’d given birth to. She already knew that. Divine wasn’t happy with the way he lived his life, or the people he surrounded himself with. She wasn’t happy with how he raised his boys or his insistence on having so many of them. But he was her son. It would take breaking her rules on feeding and harming a mortal, or even an immortal to turn her from him. Surely he hadn’t done that, though? She had raised him with the rules she’d been taught. He knew better than that . . . didn’t he?

            Sighing, Divine turned off the shower and stepped out to dry herself. It seemed to her that there was only one thing for her to do. She needed to slip away from the others, reclaim her motorcycle, and disappear. She needed to leave America and head somewhere else, perhaps somewhere in Asia this time. North America was too risky now. And leaving the country had the added benefit of putting some distance between herself and her son.

            This wouldn’t be the first time Divine had done that. She’d left Europe to put distance between them because of the way he lived, only he’d followed. This time she would have to ensure she didn’t leave a trail. She would be alone again, but Divine was used to that, or she should have been, but somehow this time was different. The idea was wearying beyond belief. Perhaps because this time she would be leaving behind a life mate and any chance of ever having one. It had taken her 2,758 years to find Marcus; she wasn’t foolish enough to imagine she’d find another possible life mate around the next corner. Once she walked away from him, that dream, one she’d never dared to dream before this, was dead. It made the future seem unbearably bleak.

            Pushing these depressing thoughts firmly away, Divine concentrated on dressing. She’d found it was always best to live in the here and now rather than waste time with past events or what she couldn’t have and what could have been. Mind you, living in the here and now wasn’t always easy, but she did her best.

            When Divine made her way out to the kitchenette, Marcus was standing at the counter, poking Popsicle sticks into apples. Mirabeau then dipped them in the pots of chocolate or caramel and rolled them in the peanuts and/or marshmallows before setting them on a tray to harden.