Nine
Ringo was pacing, strung out from the desire to get high, anxious as hell over Kelsey. No matter that he had never intended to come back for her. Now that he had, she wasn’t there, and it worried him. He had returned to their room to get her after stopping at a restaurant and tossing back two shots of whiskey. It hadn’t decreased his urge for something harder, something like what Donatelli had had in that cup. Heroin.
But the alcohol had made him bold, reckless. Desperate to get rid of the urge swirling inside him, he had fed four times, straight from the source, sucking his victims hard and fast, taking more than he should have to finally feel full. It hadn’t worked, and he’d left four women dazed and disoriented in Central Park. It had made him feel guilty, which had pissed him off, and when he had returned to their crappy motel room and found Kelsey gone, he swiftly shifted his anger to her.
She wasn’t supposed to go anywhere without him. This was why he hated dragging her around with him, like a fucking anchor around his neck. And where was the gratitude? He could have just left her, yet he’d gone back for her, and this was what he got? Shit. He had been just fine on his own, without all these complications. Pain in the fucking ass, that’s what she was, had been since the first time he’d met her. He didn’t know why he put up with her, didn’t know why he kept her around, why he risked his neck for her. Didn’t know why the hell he was worried about her.
Because she was a freaking fruitcake, that’s why, and for whatever weird-ass reason, he cared about her. And damn it, he hated that. Hated it. He didn’t want to care. Or worry. Or regret that he could never be the kind of man who would be good for her.
Ringo ripped the lamp off the nightstand, its cord tearing out of the socket, and tossed it against the wall above the dresser, where it shattered with a satisfying smash. He sent the other one flying after it. And pitched the ice bucket onto the floor. He was pulling out dresser drawers one by one and stomping them into bits with his boots when the door opened and Kelsey came in. The sight of her, safe, a frown on her beautiful face, filled him with relief and renewed rage.
“Where the fuck have you been?” he demanded, splintering wood beneath his feet with a sickening crack.
Kelsey came over to him in a rush, her hands fluttering out. “Ringo, stop that. We can’t pay for that.”
“So. What.” He reached for another one.
Kelsey grabbed his arm to stop him. “Baby, what’s the matter?” She stroked his skin, her voice soothing. “I’m sorry I left… I hope you weren’t worried. I just went to feed. I wasn’t sure how long you’d be gone, since you didn’t leave a note or anything.”
A note? Now he was supposed to leave a fucking note whenever he wanted to go anywhere? “You should have done what I told you to do and stayed here. You never listen to me, Kelsey!”
She moved in closer, sliding her leg along his, wincing like she’d felt a sudden pain. “Shh… yes, I do. I listen to you. Don’t be mad at me, baby. You know I only want what makes you happy. I’m sorry.”
Her lips were on his ear, hands moving over his arm, his chest. Ringo stood still, breathing hard, his anger untamed, anxiety and urges rising hot and fast and sick inside him. He felt out of control, and he worked to regain a semblance of it.
“Get away from me,” he said, very carefully.
“Oh!” She made a sound of pain, and pulled back, tears instantly in her eyes.
“We’re leaving here tonight,” he said. “We’re going back to Vegas.” It had been a mistake to leave in the first place. It was too soon. He wasn’t ready. He had fucked up his meeting with Donatelli, shown him he was still vulnerable. If Donatelli wanted to play, let him contact Ringo. He wasn’t going after him again.
“I don’t want to go back to Vegas. Everyone there is going to be mad at me. I didn’t give Mr. Carrick two weeks’ notice.”
Kelsey looked scared, her arms wrapped around her middle, hidden in the bulky sweatshirt she was wearing. That was his sweatshirt, he realized. And he hated that he liked that she was in his clothes, hated that he liked the fact that she stuck with him, and hated that she looked so damn cute. Hated that she gave a crap about that * Carrick and her stupid job for him.
“You should have thought about that before you ran off and married me,” he said ruthlessly, tossing the still intact drawer in his hands back onto the dresser. “Now we’re going back and you’re just going to have to deal with it.” He was testing her, certain of what she’d say. “Unless you want to call it quits right now. Tear up the marriage certificate and go our separate ways.”
Her eyes widened, her expression softened. “Why would I want to do that? I love you.”
Then she was a fool. But he had known that all along. And he knew, even if he couldn’t say it out loud, that he loved her, too, which really sucked.
“Are we leaving right now?” she asked, slowly bending over and gathering up the wood pieces and stacking them neatly by the garbage can. “I can pack our stuff in ten minutes.”
Ringo rubbed his forehead. “Don’t do that. Leave it there.”
“It’s no big deal, I’ll be finished in two seconds.”
“Get up!” he shouted, angry at the sight of her picking up after him.
She quickly stood up, wincing again. “What?” she asked, confused. “What is your problem? Someone needs to clean it up.”
“I’ll do it,” he said, yanking her by the arm toward him. “And why are you acting like you’re in pain?”
She turned her head away from him. “I just had an accident. I fell down some stairs.”
“Really?” That sounded like less than the truth, but he wasn’t interested in talking. “Even more reason you shouldn’t be cleaning up after me. Are you alright?”
“I’m fine.”
“Good. Because I need to fuck you right now.”
Her eyes darkened. “Why?” she asked in a breathless voice, her demeanor instantly responding to his crass words, just like he knew it would.
Yanking the sweatshirt off over her head, he kissed and nipped along her jaw. “Because you belong to me, Kelsey. And I like that.”
Her arms went around his neck and she ground her hips against his. “We belong to each other.”
Ringo yanked her jeans and panties down. “God help us both.”
And he pushed her against the closet door—the most convenient wall—unzipped, and slid into her with a shudder. She made those sounds, the ones he loved so much, the gasping and desperate mewls, as he thrust into her over and over again. When he was inside her, when there was nothing but them and their hard, needy pleasure, Ringo almost remembered what it was like to be human, could almost touch a time when he had been normal. Happy.
Because when he pushed in, at Kelsey, she took, and never wavered in her openness to him, and he sank into that, craved that, at the same time it scared the absolute shit out of him.
She came quickly, her leg wrapped around his, her eyes dilating with pleasure, and Ringo let go, gritted his teeth, and exploded inside her. When he stopped shuddering and pried his eyes open, he realized he had pushed his hand right through the closet door. Vampire strength. He still wasn’t used to it, though he enjoyed the feeling of power it gave him.
“Shit,” he said, with a little laugh, and pulled his hand out. Good thing he had Donatelli’s wallet. He’d have to leave some cash for the damages.
His cell phone rang in his pants pocket, which was shoved down his thigh.
“Ring-a-ling,” Kelsey said, sagging against the door and wiping her mouth, a satisfied smile on her face.
That made him laugh. Sometimes she said the stupidest things.
Reaching down, he retrieved the phone, and took the call. “Hello?”
“This is Donatelli. Twenty-five grand. That’s as high as I’ll go. And you’ll have to collect the money in Vegas from Gregor Chechikov.”
Ringo jerked up his pants. “You expect me to travel all the way back to Vegas with no guarantees? How do I know you won’t just turn me in?” He had been planning the trip back anyway, but it made him uncomfortable that Donatelli was suggesting it.
“Because we’ll be traveling together. And if you get caught, so do I. So do you want the money or not?”
“Sure.” Ringo looked at Kelsey, who was shaking her head. “But you go first and we’ll follow you. I don’t think my wife enjoys your company, Donatelli.” Her eyes went wide at the name.
“Well, she clearly has poor taste in men. Look at who she married.”
“Fuck off,” Ringo said mildly.
Donatelli laughed. “I’m leaving in an hour. Someone will meet you at four a.m. in front of the Bellagio. And don’t try anything, Columbia. I know too much about your weaknesses for you to win in a battle with me.”
“Likewise.” Ringo hung up the phone and turned away from Kelsey, who looked ready to protest. “Save it, Kels. I don’t need a lecture. I’m selling a bit of info to Donatelli, that’s all. We need money to live off of. Now let’s pack.”
“He’s a bad man,” she said, in that creepy voice she used occasionally, the one where she sounded vacant and disembodied.
He hated that voice. “I’m no Boy Scout either, babe.”
She made no move to pull up her pants, just stared at him. “No, you’re not.”
Disturbed, Ringo turned his back on her and pulled out his duffel bag, sorry he’d ever taken this damn trip.
“She’s sleeping, go away,” Alexis told Corbin when he knocked on the door of Brittany’s apartment around eleven o’clock.
“I just want to speak to her for a moment,” Corbin said, trying to look charming. He wanted to tell Brittany how he felt, that he wanted to be with her, wanted a real marriage, with love and affection, where they raised their child together in tandem. He wanted and needed to tell her that. Before he lost his courage. Sleeping could wait.
“So? Come back tomorrow when she’s not in bed.” Alexis started to close the door in his face.
He put his hand out and stopped it. “May I step in for just a moment? Check on her? She was not feeling well at the class this evening.”
“Which is why she needs to sleep. What is it about that concept you are not understanding?” Brittany’s sister glared at him.
“I am not going to wake her up. I just want to see her.” He wasn’t sure why he was pressing the issue, but he wanted, needed, to see her for himself. In addition to his feelings of excitement about their child and their potential relationship, he had an uncomfortable fear working at the back of his brain. He wanted reassurance she was all right.
Alexis sighed. “If I tell you to go to hell and leave, you’re too polite to argue, right? You’ll just go quietly.”
“I do not think so,” he told her, surprised to find that was true. He was not leaving without a look at Brittany. The fear was expanding, pulsing, and he would disregard manners to protect her. He didn’t know what danger she could possibly be in, but he had to know all was well.
“Shit. I had a feeling you were going to say that.” Alexis swung the door open. “Just for the record, I don’t like you. And if you wake her up, I will hurt you.”
Corbin was used to people not liking him. Normally, it didn’t bother him. It was the price of his work, which he fully believed in and had no intention of stopping. But this was Brittany’s sister. They were going to be forced into one another’s company quite frequently.
He stepped inside the apartment. “What have I done to offend you?”
“You mean besides sleeping with my sister about two minutes after meeting her, not using birth control, blowing her off, then promising her you’d stick around for the long haul only to disappear for eight weeks? Besides that?”
Corbin stared at her defiantly. What did she know about his relationship with Brittany? Those were only the superficial facts, nothing more. “Yes, besides that.”
His aplomb startled her. She frowned at him as she closed the door. “Then there’s the fact that you killed a woman. Not to mention you’re up to your eyeballs in controversial vampire research that smacks of all kinds of moral dilemmas. I’m just imagining frozen vampire embryos. God, think of the lawsuits. I wanted my sister to marry an accountant. I wanted her to have a normal life, with a normal husband, and a normal baby. She deserves that, damn it. I’ve worked my ass off to give that to her, and one whoo-hoo with you and it’s all shot to hell.”
Well, her feelings were entirely clear. Corbin let her finish her verbal vomit. She glared at him, and he stared back. “Anything else?”
“You’re weird.”
If he wasn’t so angry, he might have laughed. Instead, he put his hands in his pockets, hoping to retain some level of control. “I refuse to defend myself. I slept with Brittany after barely knowing her, that is true. As is the fact that she slept with me after barely knowing me. I did not use birth control, neither did she. And afterward, it was mutually agreed we would not see each other again. Those are the facts, and they are none of your business. But since you have made them your business, I will only say that if you do not like your sister’s choices, it is unfortunate. But out of your control. And what you want is entirely irrelevant. What is important is what Brittany wants, and what she deserves is happiness. Support. And you are not helping her achieve either by judging her actions, disapproving, and being mean-spirited with me.” Corbin took a second, his anger threatening to get the better of him. “Now I am going to ask you to overlook my weirdness for your sister’s sake.”
With that, he moved past the pink chintz couch and headed for Brittany’s bedroom.
“Damn,” Alexis said behind him. “You have more balls than I thought, Atelier.”
Corbin ignored her and opened the door softly. Brittany was asleep, like Alexis had promised, and she had pulled the comforter up over her stomach and shoulders in the chill December air. He could not see her shape, which was disappointing. He had wanted to see her in her nightclothes, or maybe in her panties, to see her body, see the belly his child was growing in. He hadn’t seen her bare flesh in nine weeks and the changes had to be abundant.
Settling for brushing her new choppy hair off her forehead, Corbin sighed in relief. He had been hoping to ignore the realities, but seeing Chechikov had reminded him who he was, how they would never have a normal life. Not until he found the cure and turned his knowledge over to someone he could trust. Unfortunately, he had no idea who that person might be.
It was time to head back to his lab. He had lost two nights, and he needed to test his latest vaccine. He touched Brittany’s warm shoulder, smelling her pumping blood and night sweats, listening to the sound of her steady heartbeat. Suddenly he realized he could hear a second tempo. The fast fluttery heart rate of their unborn child. Corbin stood stock still, awed. It sounded absolutely amazing, mother and child not in tandem, but unified, a whole. Both his.
Mon Dieu . He felt love for their baby swelling up in him, tangible, overwhelming.
Tearing himself away from her, Corbin retreated to the living room, his own heart swelled and beating faster than normal. There was a thick taste in his mouth, a glee and ecstasy rushing through him simultaneously, along with abundant fear. He moved quickly, urgently, as he left Brittany sleeping.
“Alexis, you have to protect her.”
Alexis took a swallow from the glass of blood in her hand and looked at him with a hefty dose of suspicion. “From what?”
“I care about Brittany. I care about my child.” Corbin felt his hands forming fists and he took a deep breath. “And while you are wrong about many things, you are right that my work is controversial. I don’t know what the future holds, but I do know that if the wrong person finds out about the origin of your sister’s baby, they won’t hesitate to use our child for their own purposes. There are those who would see me dead, who are merely waiting for the completion of my research to attempt to kill me, and if I cannot protect Brittany, you must do it. You and your husband.”
“I will kill anyone who touches Brittany. But why would they want her baby?”
Corbin glanced back at the bedroom door. “This child will be immortal, but have no need to drink blood. I have not told Brittany this because I don’t want to scare her, but Carrick knows the truth. And I’m telling you because you are the first defense between Brittany and harm.”
“Jesus Christ.” Alexis’s face was pale. “And you wonder why I don’t like you?”
“No one must know the baby is mine. They must think it is just a mortal’s child. Then I will marry Brittany so I am close enough to protect her, and see that no one learns the truth.”
“Brittany’s agreed to tell people the baby’s father is Joe Blow?” Her expression indicated how doubtful she felt that was.
“I haven’t told her she should. You know Brittany. I don’t think she would agree to the deception.” Corbin ran his hand through his hair. “I shouldn’t have come back around so soon, but I wanted to see her. I couldn’t stay away. I have very strong feelings for her.”
Alexis looked horrified. “Oh, God, you’re like in love with her, aren’t you?”
“Possibly.” He wasn’t entirely sure what love felt like, but he definitely had some strong emotions regarding Brittany, feelings that had only grown in the eight weeks of separation.
“I suspect she feels the same way. So I guess I really am going to have to get over it and accept you. Crap .” Alexis set her glass down on the coffee table with a loud plunk. “I’m not sure I can lie to her.”
“You’re going to have to.” Corbin moved closer to her. “And tell me, do you know who Brittany’s father is?”
“No. For the thousandth time, no. Ethan and Seamus have asked me that already.” Alexis shook her head. “All I know is that my mother met him when she was working at a club. And I remember the day my father found out. My parents were arguing and he threatened to leave her, take the two of us with him. And she told him he could take me, but not Brittany, because she wasn’t even his kid.” She rolled her eyes. “Nice, huh? He called her a liar and she mentioned the fact that Brittany had black hair, if he hadn’t noticed, while his was a dirty blond. So he called her a whore, she laughed, and said that Italians were known for being good lovers, unlike hillbillies from West Virginia. So he left, without me, I might add, despite her offer for him to take me. You think they would have kept their voices down, since I was sitting in the next room watching Care Bears, but… ”
Corbin sucked in a breath.
Alexis’s head snapped up.
He saw the moment she realized what she had said. “Italians… where did that come from? I never remembered that before… crap, what does that mean? I always thought it was my mother who was of Italian descent. That’s where we got Baldizzi from—it was her maiden name.”
“It means that either your mother was lying to irritate your father, she thought the man she slept with was Italian, or the man she slept with really was Italian.” Corbin’s mind was racing, trying to mentally sort through his database. Did he have any Italian vampires’ DNA to do a comp? He had Brittany’s hair from the night they had last spent together, and he had analyzed it weeks ago, but had only begun the laborious process of matching it against potential fathers. He had started with a group of European vampires, but that number was well over twelve hundred. He had only gone through three hundred, with no match. If he could isolate that grouping to Italians only…
They might know the answer to who Brittany’s father was.
Then again, Corbin only had twenty percent of all vampires in his database. Since they were a seventy-five percent male population, that left over five thousand potential candidates still at large.
“How many vampires are Italian?”
“I’m not sure. Maybe a hundred. Two hundred.”
“So what do we do, ask them all to take paternity tests? And why does it matter anyway?”
Corbin started pacing. “It matters because who that man is plays an important role in the political pull over our child, if it were ever to become common knowledge. That man, Brittany’s biological father, could either protect or harm our child, or be utterly powerless to stop those who would. And it is important for simple genetics. If there is the presence of a particular gene in her father, it means our child will have unseen power and talents.”
“It all sounds so awful I’m not sure which is the worst-case scenario. And how do we find out who our culprit is?”
“Run DNA, of course. And when members of the Nation register to vote, they list their nationalities. Wouldn’t Seamus Fox have access to those type of records?”
“If it’s on a computer, I bet Seamus could get to it.” Alexis bit her fingernail. “Hey, just an FYI, for a while I was getting strange e-mails from a group claiming to be vampire slayers. It seemed hokey, and they’ve stopped now, but just so you know.”
“Vampire slayers?” Corbin almost snorted. “That is a myth.”
“Yeah, well, those e-mails weren’t a myth. And maybe slayers aren’t real, but some people are delusional enough to think it’s real and jump on board.”
“Just what we need. Vigilantes thrown into the mix.” He fished his car keys out of his pocket. “Please tell Brittany that I stopped by and that I would like to speak with her.”
“Do you want her to call you or what? Because last time I checked, she didn’t even know where you live.”
That drew him up short. “No?” That sounded terrible. That was wrong. “Do you have any paper? I will write down my address and phone number.” He didn’t have a cell phone because there was no one who would be calling him, but he did have a phone in his apartment.
“It’s about time,” Alexis muttered as she opened the drawer of the desk Brittany kept by the kitchen door. She pulled out paper and pen and handed them to him.
The memo pad said, Bright Smiles by Dr. Brittany Baldizzi . A big molar with a smiley face was next to it. It made him subconsciously rub his tongue over his teeth. He had never been to a dentist.
As he wrote, he asked, “Can you ask Seamus if he can retrieve that information? I will start running the data that I already have.”
“Can’t you just isolate a search by nationality already? If you can’t, I can ask, but Seamus and I don’t really get along. He won’t do backflips to help me out.”
“Is there anyone you do get along with?” he asked, genuinely curious.
“Brittany. And Ethan.” She shrugged. “Most of the time. Cara. Kelsey. My friend from college, Judith. My old neighbor Bob, who is renting my old house for the winter so his mother can visit from South Dakota without actually living with him.”
“You have a house?” That piqued Corbin’s interest. Brittany had an apartment, as did he. She wanted a house, with a yard. “Does it have land with it?”
“Like a yard? Yeah, though it’s mostly indigenous desert plants. No grass. I’ll probably sell it when Bob’s mom goes back north in the spring. Why?”
“Brittany would like us to live in a house, that is all. Perhaps I could purchase it from you for her.”
Alexis grimaced as she took the paper from him. “Wow. We’ll just be one big happy undead family, won’t we?”
“We can only hope.” Corbin sketched her a bow. “Now, excuse-moi . I am off to run that search through my database and to feed.”
“That’s special. The Cleavers have nothing on us, I’m telling you. We’re the new All-American family.”
“Zat is the plan.” Corbin grinned, almost able to picture it. “We will be a family.” But first he had a fertile vampire to unearth and a genetic mystery to solve.