Bled Dry (18 page)

“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 pussy 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.