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.”
“I have been up all night with her because of you,” Damian said resentfully, his voice moving away.
“Yes, and I am sorry for that,” Abaddon said, his voice growing fainter as the two men apparently headed out of the room. “But at least we know she is not in cahoots with them.”
“She is my mother, Abby. She would never act against me.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure. If she ever found out . . .”
Whatever came after that was too soft for Divine to hear. She instinctively opened her eyes and turned her head in an effort to be able to hear them again, but the instant she did, agony shot through her skull once more. This time it brought unconsciousness with it.