“Packing? No, not at all. It looked like she hadn’t been there all day, and her bed was made.”
“That is because she spent last night with me.” Corbin set down the bag of maternity clothes he had brought over. She had forgotten them in his apartment. “She took my car to drive home. It was gone from the parking lot, so I know she left. Where are Ethan and Gwenna?”
“Gwenna hasn’t gotten up yet. She sleeps late. And Ethan went to talk to his security team, to see if they can figure out how to track Brittany down. I just know something is wrong.”
So did he. Corbin felt cold, stark terror slide over him. Brittany should have been there. Or she would have called. Unless she had chosen to disappear on her own. But no, she wouldn’t do that without saying good-bye to her sister.
“Alexis, Brittany and I were planning on her leaving tonight. She was supposed to go home, pack what she needed, withdraw all her available funds, and come here. She was supposed to ask Ethan to establish a new identity for her so she could leave tonight and start a new life under an assumed name.”
“What! Why?”
Corbin grimaced. The truth still appalled him. “Because my DNA search on Italian men resulted in a match. Brittany’s father is Donatelli.”
“Jesus Christ!” Alexis went pale. “Corbin, the reason we wanted to talk to you is because Gwenna came here to warn us that Donatelli is back in Vegas. And he knows about the baby. We think Ringo told him.”
Corbin went very, very still. He tried to squelch the anger, the fear, the self-recrimination, so he could think rationally. “Then it is very possible that Donatelli has Brittany right now, no?”
Alexis nodded, than took off for the bedroom. “I’m going to wake Gwenna. She can read Donatelli’s thoughts.”
It would be an interesting move, for Donatelli to take Brittany. He obviously could not know he was her father. And if his other information was accurate, he would know that the baby wasn’t due for months. So why would he take her? It struck Corbin as bold and aggressive, not adjectives he’d normally associate with Donatelli.
Alexis came back into the room with Gwenna, who was a pale wisp of a woman, shadows under her blue eyes, silvery blond hair uncombed. “She’s with him. I can hear quite clearly his curiosity, his impatience. Something is bothering him. He’s worried someone else is being too rough with her and he is debating how much he can interfere.”
“Mon Dieu.”
If Donatelli thought someone else was being rough, Brittany was in serious trouble. “Who is with them?”
“I don’t know.” Gwenna shook her head. “I’m sorry. And I don’t know where they are either.”
“Do you think he would go back to the Venetian?”
“I don’t know.”
“It’s worth a try,” Alexis said, her mouth closed tightly, lips a pale white line.
Corbin was about to ask for a weapon when the front door opened and Ethan came in with Seamus Fox and Kelsey, the errant secretary.
She was crying, her blood tears streaming down her pale face. She came right over to him. “Ringo’s using drugs again, I know it. He went to Donatelli.”
“I’m sorry,” Corbin said automatically, patting her back when she launched herself into his arms. He looked over her shoulder for help, no clue what to do with her. The others were in a serious discussion, heads bent.
A thought occurred to him and he pulled back to look at Kelsey. “Where is Donatelli? Do you know?”
Kelsey gave a sniffle and wiped at her tears. “I think he’s at the Bellagio. With the Russian guy. That’s where Ringo picked up his payment.”
“The Russian guy? Chechikov?” Corbin was stunned. The man he had given access to all his research, including the potential for cloning, was working with Donatelli?
“Yes, that was his name.” Kelsey nodded, her lip curling up. “And his mortal wife, who looks like a slut if I ever saw one. A supermodel slut.”
“His wife?” Corbin turned to Ethan and Seamus. “Did you know Chechikov is in town?”
“Unfortunately, yes. He’s here to run for president. Though I had no idea he was hiding a mortal wife up his sleeve, the tricky bastard.”
“President?” Corbin ran his fingers through his hair, unable to comprehend how idiotic he had been. “That wife is the least of our worries. If he is with Donatelli, then they have Brittany. It is Gregor that Donatelli worries will hurt Brittany.” Corbin clenched his fists. “You know his reputation. He would not hesitate to hurt her. And I am very sorry to say that it is Chechikov who has been funding my research all these years. I give him biannual reports on my progress. With the right research team, he has the framework in place to reconstruct my antidote, at least to a point. Without my latest series of controls, though, it will take years. Unless he steals my most recent data.”
His head was pounding. He just couldn’t let that research fall into the wrong hands. Chechikov had played him for a fool. He intended to take the research, take the office of the presidency, and clone vampires. So he would have total control. Corbin was not about to let that happen, nor was he going to let any harm befall Brittany or his child.
“I need to go find Brittany. Can someone go to my lab in my apartment and start destroying my files? I cannot let Chechikov or Donatelli find my research.”
“I don’t have the technical skills for that,” Ethan said. “But I’ll go with you to find Brittany.”
“I can destroy files,” Seamus offered, stepping forward. “Just tell me what you want saved.”
“Put everything on a ThumbDrive. There is one sitting on the desk. Then destroy everything on all three computers. Obliterate it. So no one can retrieve anything. Put all the paper files through the shredder.” It was painful to say that, but he knew it was necessary. He had created the means to do the very opposite of what he had intended. It was his responsibility to destroy it.
He wanted the ThumbDrive, though. The files would give him the ability to re-create his vaccine. Giving up that choice he had created, the chance to be mortal again, wasn’t an option he was comfortable with. Not yet, not when he knew he had the cure. And he might need the genetic database with regard to their child.
“Just give me your apartment keys and I’m on the way,” Seamus said, hand held out. “Kelsey, I’ll drop you off at your place in case Ringo comes home.”
Corbin gave him the keys. “
Merci.
Now I am going to get the mother of my child and I will kill anyone who has harmed her. Does anyone have a sword I can borrow?”
“I do,” Alexis said.
Why didn’t that surprise him?
“Oh, Christ,” Ethan replied. “You had to ask her that?”
“I’ll take it.” Corbin was skilled with a sword thanks to boarding school. He would relish sticking someone today, given his current mood.
Brittany had been in the chair for twelve hours. She knew because there was a platinum clock on the wall opposite her that showed how excruciatingly long she had been held captive. It had been an hour since she had woken up from Donatelli’s little mind sleep, and while they had let her use the bathroom, Gregor had also smacked her twice, shaken her, and, most recently, bitten her wrist and snacked on her blood.
He was trying to terrify her and it was working. She was pee-her-pants afraid, though at least her bladder was empty. Calling for help in her head didn’t seem to be effective, because no one was answering, and given that a guard had actually stood in the doorway of the bathroom while she had used it, she didn’t see how she could possibly escape. At this point, she figured Gregor could rape her, maim her, whatever, and she would live. But she was scared that somehow in his psycho mind games he was going to inadvertently hurt the baby. She could tolerate anything done to her, but she was going to go ballistic if anything happened to her child.
It was past 8 p.m., so she suspected that while she had been in a forced slumber, the vampires had been daysleeping as well. Now they were up for the night and she very possibly had hours before Corbin realized she wasn’t going to show up at her sister’s. God only knew what Gregor might decide to do to her in the interim. He was definitely enjoying her discomfort.
Sasha at least had disappeared. Ringo had stepped out for a cigarette. And Donatelli looked distinctly unhappy.
He shifted in his seat, tugging at his suit jacket. “Enough of that, Chechikov. Leave her be.”
But the Russian only laughed, wiping her blood off his lips and licking his fingers one by one. “I am just playing with her.”
The two men stared at each other, and after a minute, Brittany realized they were speaking to each other in their heads. She moved her thighs restlessly, making the leather on the chair squeak. She was thirsty, hungry, and getting a cramp in her leg. The baby was fluttering around in her belly in what felt like frantic somersaults, scaring her more than she already was, which she wouldn’t have thought possible.
There was no obvious escape from the situation, yet she knew without a shadow of a doubt that Donatelli was the more rational of the two, the one who might be sympathetic, or at the least, unwilling to risk destroying his future prize. He wanted her child, and he wanted to keep her alive, which was different from his psycho pal. It had occurred to her that Gregor didn’t need or want her alive. He wanted her baby and he had no interest in waiting for her to give birth. It wasn’t a live child he wanted—it was her child’s DNA. The genetic sequence, nothing more. He would treat her baby like a blood sample. Extract, use, discard.
That would have to be over her dead body. And while she was just a free-spirited suburban dentist who happened to get knocked up by a controversial vampire research scientist, she had no intention of bursting into tears and giving up. Something had happened to her since that day in her doctor’s office, since her OB had said she was pregnant. She had morphed from happy-go-lucky to warrior woman. She’d protect her child with every last breath in her.
What she needed to do was play it smart. If Donatelli was feeling uncomfortable with Gregor’s cruel behavior, she figured he would be downright furious if he knew the truth about her genetics.
And as luck would have it, Gregor and Donatelli appeared to be arguing. Gregor threw his hand up and gave a loud “Bah!”
Turning around, he slapped her again without warning, causing her to bite her tongue. Brittany winced, blinking hard against the pain, biting her lip to prevent a cry from slipping out. She wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction. But Gregor didn’t stick around to watch her suffer. He went out the door, slamming it behind him, making the walls shake precariously.
Donatelli shook his head in disgust before giving her a shrug. “Listen to me. Accept the money, Brittany. It is really your only choice. The money or death. Either way he’ll have what he wants.”
She ignored that. “Did you live in Las Vegas twenty-seven years ago?” she asked, swallowing hard, her mouth dry except for the blood from where her teeth had lacerated her tongue.
“What? I don’t remember. I might have. I spent a few years in the seventies and eighties here. Why? Didn’t you hear what I just said?” He frowned at her, hands on the knees of his black pants.
She didn’t see herself in his features at all, except arguably her dark hair. It was odd to gaze into his face and try to find her own, but she saw nothing that proclaimed he was her father. Yet he was. “My mother knew you. She was a dancer at the Kareless Kitten Klub.”
Donatelli smiled. “The Kitten? No kidding. I actually remember that club rather fondly. I spent many a night there.”
“My mother’s name was Gina Shoemaker. But chances are she went by Gina Baldizzi, which was her maiden name. She was very tall, with long legs, and jet-black hair.” Brittany glanced toward the door, wanting to make sure Gregor wasn’t returning.
Donatelli looked annoyed. “So?”
“So you slept with her.”
His eyebrow went up. “Did I? And she shared this with you? That’s a curious mother-daughter conversation.”