Vampire Most Wanted by Lynsay Sands Page B

which had made her suspect he was lying to her about something, though she couldn’t tell which part of the tale was a lie.
    “What risks?” she’d demanded. “What stupid things did they do?”
    “They’re my sons. I’ll handle it,” he’d said, refusing to explain.
    Divine had let the matter go, too emotionally exhausted from weeks of worry to have the energy to fight with him. But she’d taken the time to warn him in no uncertain terms to lie low and avoid trouble for the next little while. Lucian didn’t like to lose, wouldn’t be happy about losing him, and would have his people out in force looking for him. She’d emphasized it by pounding at him until he’d assured her he’d lie low for a while.
    The moment he’d made that promise, she’d mounted her motorcycle and left. Divine always came away from visits to Damian’s chosen shelters feeling slightly dirty. She blamed it on Abaddon and some of her grandsons. She had always found Abaddon loathsome, but while she disliked admitting it, some of her grandsons left her feeling the same way. As a rule they avoided her as much as possible, and were mostly quiet and polite when they couldn’t avoid her, but it didn’t matter. Divine always left worried about what they were up to and feeling like she needed a bath. It was why she didn’t go out of her way to see her son. In fact, she hadn’t seen him more than half a dozen times over the last century, and four of those times had been over the last two or three years, twice when she’d had to save him from Lucian and then had visited him after, and twice the last couple of days.
    Marcus moaned from the depths of his unconsciousness and Divine turned her attention to the man she was squatting over. She supposed she couldn’t just leave him lying there on her floor. Well, she could, but it could get awkward if Madge or someone came along for a visit and peered through the window.
    Clicking her tongue against her teeth, she picked up the man and carried him to the bedroom at the back of the RV. After laying him down there, she debated stripping him so he’d be more comfortable and then shook the thought away. Seeing the injury she’d done him would just make her feel guiltier and she resented feeling guilty at all. She shouldn’t. He had entered uninvited. A man could get shot for something like that.
    Mind you, Divine supposed he might prefer getting shot to whatever had happened in his pants when she’d hit him. She’d lived a long time and never seen a man actually turn the different colors he had with pain. At one point he’d actually turned green.
    Grimacing, she quickly covered him with a blanket so that she didn’t have to look at the evidence of what she’d done Divine then returned to the other room and surveyed the mess. After a sigh, she collected the remaining bags of blood and tossed them in her refrigerator, then set to the task of cleaning up the blood that had dried on her floor. Fortunately, she didn’t favor carpet and her RV was floored with a laminate that looked like hardwood. Everything in her RV was easily cleanable, which came in handy at times like this. Not that there were many times like this. Actually, this was the first. But she had no doubt there would be others in the future before she traded this RV in for another. Life could get messy.
    It didn’t take long to finish her cleaning. Once done, Divine walked to the door to the bedroom and peered in at Marcus again. She’d nearly covered his head with the blanket when she’d tossed it on him, and he was lying as still as death under it, nowhere near regaining consciousness. In her experience, if he weren’t very deeply under he’d be moaning and thrashing. Healing was often more painful than the injury that brought it on, which was something she’d learned well at an early age.
    Not wanting to think about that, Divine turned away and headed for the door. She needed to head into town and find a meal. She needed