Genre: Paranormal Romance
Publisher: Avon
Date of Publication: 2/18/2014
ISBN: 9780062078179
Number of pages: 384
Avon Romance Amazon BN
Take a road trip with the undead . . . in this latest in the argeneau series by New York Times bestselling author Lynsay Sands
For Basha Argeneau, anything is better than facing her estranged family. Even hiding out in sweltering southern California. But when a sexy immortal in black shows up determined to bring her back to the clan, she'll do anything to keep far, far away from the past she can't outrun.
Marcus Notte isn't here to play games—especially not with someone as crazy as the infamous blonde. Asked by Lucian Argeneau to bring her back for questioning, Marcus is determined to carry out Lucian's request—no matter how the seductive little mind-reading vamp feels about it.
Basha doesn't mind fighting fire with fire, especially with a hot immortal involved. But if he wants to take her away, he'll have to catch her first . . .
Divine
saw her latest customer out, surprised to note that there was no one
outside her door waiting for a reading. It was the first time that
day that there was no line outside her RV. A glance at her watch
explained why-- it was dinnertime. That was the only time she ever
had a lull in customers. Right now the food stalls would have
ridiculously long line as everyone at the fairgrounds converged on
them in search of greasy treats to power the rest of the evening’s
rides and fun. Which meant she had a few minutes to catch her breath
and relax a bit.
She’d
barely had the thought when she spotted a couple of women moving
purposefully toward her trailer. After a brief hesitation, Divine
quickly flipped the “Back in five minutes!” sign, let her screen
door slide closed and descended the few steps to the ground. Ignoring
the fact that the women were looking alarmed and rushing forward, she
slipped around the side of her RV. Most customers would have stopped
then, sagged with disappointment and waited, probably impatiently,
but waited just the same, so Divine was a little surprised when her
arm was grabbed from behind. She was more surprised, however, by the
strength in the hand that latched onto her…until she turned and
noted that it wasn’t one of the women at all, but a man.
A
couple inches taller than her, dark haired and good-looking, he was
built like a line backer. He was also looming over her, deliberately
invading her space in a threatening manner as he growled, “What the
hell did you say to my wife?”
Divine
rolled her eyes with exasperation, wondering how she was supposed to
know since she didn’t know who his wife was. She was about to say
as much, but then realized that there was something familiar about
the man and quickly dipped into his thoughts. A heartbeat later she
was relaxing.
“Allen
Paulson,” she murmured his name, getting an almost childish
satisfaction when his eyes widened incredulously.
“How
do you--?”
“I
told your wife that you were having an affair with your buxom,
blonde, twenty year old secretary, Tiffany,” Divine interrupted
sharply, silencing him at once. “I told her that this Tiffany was
pushing for marriage and that you, not wanting to lose her, but
unwilling to give up your wife’s money preferred widowhood to
divorce. I told her about your plans to bring about that widowhood on
your upcoming vacation. I believe it was either her drowning or
suffering a fall while camping in Yosemite National Park?” She
tilted her head. “As I recall that trip was scheduled for this
week, wasn’t it?”
When
his mouth dropped open and his hold on her arm eased, Divine added,
“I’m guessing by the fact that you’re here rather than in
Yosemite, that she listened to my advice to make an appointment with
her lawyer the next morning to change her will as well as remove you
as the beneficiary on her life insurance.”
His
hand dropped away, falling limply by his side.
“No
doubt she also listened to my advice and hired a private detective. I
gather she sent him to get photographic proof of your infidelity at
that cheap little motel you like to take your secretary to everyday
at lunchtime?” She slipped into his thoughts briefly, read the
answer in the chaos there, and smiled with satisfaction. Not only had
the wife done that, she’d then taken the proof straight to a good
divorce lawyer. The woman was now safe and on her way to being single
again. After that, though, the woman had told her dear hubby that the
fortune teller at the carnival was the one who had given her the
heads up and put her on this path and it had been the best twenty
bucks she’d ever spent. Which was why Divine now had an irate and
soon to be divorced and destitute husband on her hands.
Divine
waited, braced for the man’s anger. But instead of the explosive
rage she expected, he asked in a small, frightened voice, “How did
you know? No one knew. I didn’t tell anyone what I planned. Not
even Tiffany.”
“Did
you even bother to read the sign when you walked your wife to my
trailer that day two weeks ago in Pahrump?” she asked with
amusement and then reminded him, “Madame Divine. Let her do a
reading and define your future,” she reminded him.
“Yeah,
but that’s just… It’s a scam,” he protested. “You’re a
carnie. You just scam people out of their money for a laugh.”
“Yes,
of course ,” Divine agreed coldly, and then tilted her head. “So
why aren’t you laughing?”
Allen
Paulson flinched as if she’d struck him, and then his awe and
dismay gave way to the rage she’d expected earlier. Divine saw it
roll over him, knew he was about to blow his top without the need to
read him, but slipped into his thoughts anyway. It was like cutting
through soft, half melted butter with a ceramic knife. The man was so
angry his thoughts were wide open. Divine wasn’t terribly surprised
to read that he’d brought a gun with him and planned to use it. She
waited until he’d pulled the weapon from inside his jacket and
raised it, though, before reacting. In fact, she let him get so far
as to put his finger on the trigger before snapping her hand out,
latching onto his throat and lifting him off the ground. She then
whirled and slammed him against her RV.
When
the gun fell from his hand and he moaned in pain, she released him.
The man fell like a rag doll. He landed on his ass with his legs
splayed, a dazed expression on his face, and Divine immediately
dropped to straddle his lap. Gravel ground painfully into her knees,
but she ignored that, caught him by the hair at the nape of his neck,
pulled his head to the side and sank her fangs into his throat.
A
little shiver of pleasure slid through Divine as thick warm blood
began to gush from the wound, was collected by her teeth and passed
into her body. It gave her an immediate rush as the nanos in her body
swarmed, eager to collect this new supply of nourishment. The man had
jerked in surprise when her teeth pierced his skin, and he’d raised
his hands to try to push her off, but he never actually got around to
exerting any pressure. Instead, he froze briefly, his mind
overwhelmed as hers automatically began to transmit her own pleasure
to him. In the next moment, he was moaning and tugging at her
instead, pulling her closer with one hand, clasping her head with the
other and murmuring encouragingly, “Oh, yeah, baby. Please.”
He
was also arching his body under her, rubbing a sudden hardness
against her. Divine usually didn’t cause pain in her victims, but
this one deserved it. She also wasn’t terribly eager to let a man
who had planned to murder his own wife dry hump her there on the
carnival grounds, so she deliberately withdrew the pleasure that she
was experiencing and had unintentionally shared. But she also slipped
into his mind to control his reaction to prevent him from screaming
out in horror and pain as his mind cleared and he became aware of
what was happening.
Divine
was always careful not to kill her hosts. Why kill the cow that gave
the milk? Besides, killing was wrong, no matter how despicable the
person was, so while she drank more than she normally would have, she
pulled back and freed him at the point when he was weak and woozy,
but long before the man could come close to dying.
Smiling
coldly at his horrified expression, Divine stood, lifting him as she
went. Once they were both upright, she released him, leaving him to
lean weakly against the RV rather than have to touch him anymore.
“Listen
carefully Allen Paulson,” she said grimly. “You will not hurt
your wife, or ever again consider harming or killing anyone for
profit or any other reason. If you do, I’ll find out, and then I’ll
find you…” She raised her hand to run one finger lightly over the
wound on his neck. “And then I will finish this meal, cut your head
off and leave your cold dead body somewhere no one will ever find
you. Do we understand each other?”
Allen
Paulson nodded weakly. The man’s face was as white as his t-shirt,
his eyes almost sunken with horror and he was sliding slowly along
her RV, obviously eager to escape, but afraid to try and be stopped.
Divine scowled. “And if you tell anyone about this, about
me,” she emphasized,
“I’ll do worse.”
He
began shaking his head frantically and whispered, “I won’t. I
swear.”
She
narrowed her eyes, and then her nose wrinkled as the acrid scent of
urine wafted up between them. Glancing down, she saw the wet spot
growing on the front of his trousers and stepped back with disgust.
“Get out of here before I change my
mind and wipe yours.”
Allen
Paulson didn’t have a clue what she meant by that-- she could see
it in his expression-- but he didn’t stick around to ask. He
simply nodded wildly and sidled along the RV for a couple feet before
finding the courage to turn his back to her and run.
“You
should have wiped his mind.”
Divine
stiffened at those words from behind her, and then turned slowly. She
peered at the tall fair-haired man who had spoken. He was a greenie,
an unskilled laborer and supposedly a local who had been hired to
help out at the carnival while they were in town. The name he went by
was Marco. Divine knew this secondhand, because while she was
normally in on the hiring process, using her “special skills” to
help Bob and Madge Hoskins who owned and ran Hoskins Amusements, this
time she hadn’t been here. Family issues had kept her away and the
hiring had been done by the time she’d caught up to the carnival.
Had she been here to help weed out the troublemakers in the hiring
process as she usually did, she never would have allowed Bob and
Madge to hire the man. One, she couldn’t read him, and that was
usually a sign of insanity in a mortal. This leads into the second
reason she wouldn’t have hired him; the man, like herself, was an
immortal. She’d sensed that about him quite quickly. Divine wasn’t
sure how she’d known. She didn’t run into a lot of immortals. In
fact, she’d arranged her life so that she wouldn’t. But there had
been a frisson of awareness as she’d first passed him on returning
to the carnival just before noon that day, as if the nanos in her
body recognized and sent signals to those in his. She’d been
avoiding him ever since.
But
that hadn’t stopped her from finding out all she could about him.
Not that there had been much to learn. He went by Marco, last name
Smith of all things. The women all thought he was a hunk. The men
thought he was practically a God because he was strong and could do
the work of four men, and Bob and Madge were hoping he’d not just
help out through their stay in this town, but travel with them to the
next and the next and so on. For herself, Divine was wary. She had
avoided other immortals for a reason and had been doing so for a very
long time. She didn’t like having one around. It made her anxious
and she disliked feeling anxious.
“Don’t
you have something to do?” she asked, moving past the man and
toward the back of her RV. The sign she’d turned had said back in
five minutes and that time was up. Besides, she’d snacked on Allen
Paulson and felt better for it. Break time was over.
“You
should have wiped his mind,” Marco repeated, falling into step with
her.
“He’ll
keep his mouth shut,” Divine muttered, annoyed, mostly because she
knew he was right. The truth was she hadn’t wiped Allen Paulson’s
mind because it was slimy, and she hadn’t wanted to have to spend
any more time inside his mind than necessary. Besides, he deserved to
go through life terrified that she might someday revisit him should
he set a foot wrong.
“And
if he doesn’t keep his mouth shut?” Marco asked as they neared
the end of her RV. “What if he goes to the police?”
“If
he goes to the police, and
if they don’t immediately lock him up as crazy but instead come to
speak to me…” She shrugged. “I’ll wipe his mind, the
officer’s mind and leave this carnival for another.”
“Is
that how you landed at Hoskins’ Carnival?” Marco asked as they
rounded the end of the vehicle. “You didn’t wipe someone you
should have and had to move on?”
Divine
turned on him sharply, an angry retort on her lips, but just as
quickly caught back the words that wanted to spill out and merely
said with forced calm, “You’re an inquisitive fellow, Marco. It’s
not healthy around here. Carnies mind their own business. I suggest
you do the same.”
Turning
away from him, she smiled at the two women who were waiting in front
of her door. Others had joined them. In fact, Divine now had a line
up of a half a dozen people and it was growing by the minute, but she
reserved her smile for the first two only and said, “Which of you
would like to go first? Or shall I take you together?”
“Oh,
me first,” one of the women said eagerly. “This was my idea.”
Divine
nodded and led the woman inside, leaving Marco and all thought of him
out on her stoop.
“Here,
Mister.”
Marcus
tore his gaze from the door Madame Divine had just ushered her client
through and peered down at the small boy tugging at the top of his
pant leg and holding out a half eaten ball of cotton candy on a
cardboard cone.
“Here,”
the boy repeated, holding it a little higher. “I don’t feel good.
You can have the rest.”
Marcus
arched an eyebrow, but took the cotton candy. He suspected the boy
didn’t feel good because he was stuffed full of cotton candy,
something drenched in mustard, powdered elephant ears and—he
considered the last stain on the boy’s shirt consideringly and then
decided it had to be – ice cream. The kid was a walking menu of
everything he’d eaten that day. At least, Marcus hoped it was all
the kid had eaten that day. Otherwise he’d be wondering if Dante
and Tomasso hadn’t fathered the little tyke. They were the only two
people he knew, mortal or immortal, who could have eaten like that as
a boy.
“Danny!
What are you doing? Get over here and leave that man alone.”
Marcus
glanced at the woman rushing toward them from the midway and offered
a reassuring smile even as he slipped into her thoughts to ease her
mind that he wasn’t a child molester and nothing untoward was
happening. By the time she reached them, she’d slowed to a fast
walk, and was smiling in a relaxed manner.
“I
hope he wasn’t bothering you?” she said apologetically as she
took the boy’s hand.
“Not
at all,” Marcus assured her.
The
young mother smiled again and then nodded and turned away with the
boy, saying, “Come on, honey. Your daddy is waiting with your
sister in the Ferris wheel line. They’ll be worried.”
Marcus
watched them go and then turned his gaze back to Madame Divine’s
RV. The door was closed now as were the blinds. He couldn’t see the
woman anymore, except in his mind’s eye and he was definitely
seeing her there. Madame Divine was more than memorable in her gypsy
getup. A white peasant blouse, worn off the shoulders, a crimson
under skirt, a bright teal scarf skirt, an orange sash tied at the
waist with gold chains hanging from it and tinkling merrily, a wide
leather belt and a crimson scarf around her head. Gold hoops had
dangled from her ears, a gold chain hung around her neck, several
gold bracelets dangled from her wrist, and knee high black leather
boots with stiletto heels strapped up the front of her legs had
finished the outfit.
The
woman looked damned sexy in the getup, so sexy in fact that when
she’d straddled the would-be wife killer, Marcus had wanted to pull
her off the man and onto his own lap. He’d been rather startled by
that urge. Marcus hadn’t been interested in women for a while.
Okay, for a couple millenia. Still, he hadn’t come across a woman
like Madame Divine in quite a while either. The woman was walking sex
in her get up, and his body was waking up and responding to it.
Obviously
he had a gypsy fetish, Marcus thought wryly. It made as much sense as
anything else at the moment. Certainly more sense than his own life
presently did. It appeared at the ripe old age of 2548 he was having
a midlife crisis of sorts. That was the only explanation for how he
found himself doing a favor for Lucian Argeneau.
Marcus
smiled wryly at the thought. Lucian Argeneau was not only the head of
the powerful Argeneau clan, but also oversaw the Rogue Hunters and
led the North American immortal council. Rogue Hunters were the
immortal police force, they hunted down rogue immortals to be
presented to the immortal council who then passed judgment on them
and sentenced them to whatever punishment they saw fit, often death.
As
the head of those two organizations, Lucian could arguably be the
most powerful immortal in North America. It was hard to imagine him
needing anyone’s help. But he did. He was searching for a family
member, his niece, Basha Argeneau, who had been thought to be dead
for millennia, but who may now be alive after all…and whom he
feared had gone rogue.
Which
is how Marcus had come to find himself at the carnival, eyeballing
the trailer of a woman he couldn’t read and found incredibly sexy.
Not that his not being able to read her bothered him. If this was
Basha Argeneau, she was even older than he was and younger immortals
usually couldn’t read immortals older than themselves. It wasn’t
like any of the other signs of having met a life mate were cropping
up, like renewed interest in food and such. Thank God, because if she
had
been a possible life mate and was
Basha Argeneau…well, that would have been a doomed relationship
from the start. Because Basha Argeneau was considered rogue…and
rogues were executed. The last thing he needed at this point in his
life was a rogue life mate.
“Hey!
Marco! Are you going to stand around stuffing your face all night or
help me with the pogo stall?”
Marcus
glanced around with surprise to find Kevin Morrow walking toward him.
The twenty-year old carnie was tall and stick-thin, his face a
collection of freckles so thick that from a distance it looked like a
tan. Up close though you saw that his face was definitely freckled,
and it was also presently scrunched up with displeasure, reminding
him that he was only supposed to take a fifteen minute break from
helping to man the food stall.
“I
was--”
“Stuffing
your face,” the young carnie interrupted dryly and then turned
away, gesturing for him to follow. “Come on. If you’re hungry you
can have a corn dog while you work. It’s probably better for you
than that sugary fluff anyway.”
Marcus
blinked and glanced down at the cone with the half eaten cotton candy
the boy had given him several minutes ago. Or what had been half
eaten cotton candy. There was nothing left of the sweet treat now.
Surely he hadn’t eaten it? He hadn’t eaten in more than a
millennia. He didn’t remember eating it. But he did have a sweet
taste in his mouth that was rather pleasant.
“Damn,”
he muttered, tossing the cardboard cone into a garbage bin as he
headed after Kevin. He’d eaten it. Couldn’t read Madame Divine,
and was lusting after the woman. Oh, this wasn’t good.
About the Author:
Lynsay Sands is the nationally bestselling author of the Argeneau/Rogue Hunter vampire series, as well as numerous historicals and anthologies. She’s been writing stories since grade school and considers herself incredibly lucky to be able to make a career out of it. Her hope is that readers can get away from their everyday stress through her stories, and if there’s occasional uncontrollable fits of laughter, that’s just a big bonus. For more information, go to www.lynsaysands.net. Author Links:
Tour-Wide Giveaway:
3 print copies of ONE LUCKY VAMPIRE (previous book in the series)
Open to US Shipping
a Rafflecopter giveaway
Thanks for the giveaway! :)
ReplyDelete