Bled Dry (3 page)

“So, there has never been a three-quarter vampire child to my knowledge. Ever.”

That didn’t sound promising. “Why not?”

“Because vampires are not supposed to procreate. Some, of course, do anyway, when they inadvertently mate with a mortal who has the recessive gene for vampirism, which allows for conception, though fortunately their numbers are few. The resulting child is a mortal Impure. But never has a vampire mated with an Impure such as yourself, or if they have, there was no child, possibly because their mother did not inherit the gene from
her
mother. You clearly do have the gene, as do I, meaning the gene will most definitely be in our child. It is the most basic of biology, but there has never been such a child that I know of, one with a complete vampire gene.”

He’d already said that, and he was starting to scare the crap out of her. “And?”

“And if there has never been one, there is no scientific precedent. What is it? Mortal or vampire? Day or night dweller?”

Breast milk or blood drinker. Corbin didn’t say it, but Brittany knew he was thinking it.

“Oh, my God! You’re telling me our child is going to be some kind of... mutant, or something? Is he going to have fangs?”

“Of course not!” But he didn’t look convinced. Then he stood up straighter and his jaw locked. “Our child is not a mutant. He will be strong and intelligent, lacking mortal weakness. Yet he will not need the blood. I am almost sure of it, because it is the draining which activates the urge to feed, not the gene. Besides, I am Corbin Jean Michel Atelier, the most premier vampire research scientist, and I will correct my mistake, that I promise you.”

Wow. How reassuring. Brittany burst into tears. Her baby was a bloodsucking demon. Instead of a Gerber baby, she was going to have an infant with fangs, pale skin, night vision, and the ability to read minds. Brittany pictured a fridge full of little bottles, prancing lambs on the outside, all filled with human blood. She would have to lock down her thoughts all the time so her baby didn’t see her sexual fantasies about George Clooney or her mean unkind thoughts about her dental hygienist’s butt and the way it looked in white pants.

This was panic time.

“Corbin, you can’t experiment on our child! God, this is horrible, I’m going to be sick.” She clutched her stomach. “We were both so stupid! I’m never having sex with you again.”

“But it is not as if you can get pregnant a second time,” he pointed out, looking a little mystified. “There would be no reason we’d need birth control if we lay together now.”

“Arrgh!” How did you say
idiot
in French?
Idi-ote?
She turned to the window, tears blinding her. “I want to talk to my sister.” Fumbling in her pocket, she pulled her cell phone out of her jeans and pressed number one to call Alexis.

“Alex?” she sniffled when her sister answered.

Alexis swore. “What did the bastard say to you? Where are you?”

“I’m still in the suite you told me to come to. Alexis, Corbin says our baby is going to... going to... ” She choked on the words and dissolved into a fresh round of tears.

“I’ll be right there.”

When Alex hung up, Brittany let the tears take her over. She sobbed, overwhelmed, frightened, scared for her child. Totally flipping freaked out.

Suddenly Corbin was behind her, arms wrapping around her. “Shh. It is all right now,
ma chérie
. I did not mean to frighten you. Everything will be just fine, and we will have the most beautiful child. After all, look at his mother.”

Corbin’s voice was soothing in her ear, his embrace confident and strong. She shouldn’t lean on him, should try to be strong, but she couldn’t. And she had no right to place all the blame on Corbin. She had been there that night. She had encouraged him, enjoyed their time together, and she had never hesitated or considered that there could be ramifications of their actions.

She tried to stop crying. “I did always want to be a mother.”

“Now you will be, and you will be
fantastique
. It will all work out.”

“I hope so.” Brittany relaxed a little. Corbin was pretty damn old, and he was a scientist, after all. He had said he was really close to an antidote to revert vampires to mortal. If anyone knew how to deal with the situation, it was him. She closed her eyes and leaned back against him. Maybe this would be okay.

“And we will get married, yes?”

Her eyes flew open. “No!” Why was he stuck on that?

There was a pounding on the outside door. Corbin moved away from her. “We are not finished discussing this.”

If he was talking about marriage, she was finished discussing. She was not going to bind herself to a man she barely knew. She didn’t even really know how old Corbin was, let alone what his personal likes and dislikes were, whether he was neat or a slob. She’d never even seen him naked, and how sad was that?

She checked out his butt as he left the room. It was
very
sad.

Ringo wondered if they knew he could hear every word they were saying.

Since his voluntary entry into rehab to quit the drug blood habit, he had gotten really damn good at meditation and the other new age crap his pseudo-girlfriend, Kelsey, kept encouraging him to do. The end result was that he was way more comfortable sitting still, listening, than he had ever been in his life, and with his vampire hearing, he had caught most of Corbin and Brittany’s conversation.

He had to admit, he’d had no clue vampires could knock women up. That was good info to have, if he didn’t want to create headaches for himself along the way.

And he also wondered if anyone would be interested in hearing that an Impure was carrying a three-quarter vamp bundle of joy. Like someone willing to pay for that information.

Like maybe his old drug pusher, now in New York awaiting his trial for treason.

Donatelli.

Brittany heard her sister’s voice at the door and went to save Corbin. If she knew Alexis, she’d have Corbin on the ground in a karate maneuver before he could say
pardon
.

She got there in the knick of time. Corbin was shaking his head, protesting in French to Ethan, while Alexis was bouncing on the balls of her feet. Brittany knew that stance. It meant someone was about to be kicked.

“Alex, don’t kick him!”

“Give me one good reason why not.”

“Because he is the father of my child.”

“That’s the reason why, not why not.”

“What?” Brittany tried to follow that logic, gave up, and settled for taking Alex’s hand and giving it a squeeze to prevent a full frontal attack.

Ethan and Corbin went back and forth in French—which she had to admit was sexy, even as she resented the fact that they were excluding her.

“I didn’t know Ethan speaks French,” she told her sister.

“I didn’t either.” Alexis was glaring at her husband. “He told me he spoke a smattering of French. Does that sound like a smatter to you?”

“I have no clue what a smatter sounds like.” Brittany looked around for a seat. She was exhausted and there were no comfortable seats in the suite. It was an artful arrangement of impractical, uncomfortable art deco furniture. She wanted a nice fat sofa with squishy cushions. Instead what she saw was a hard, squared-off set of chairs and a white sofa with a man lying on it.

It must be Ringo, and he looked uncomfortable, which any human being would when sitting on such crappy furniture. He was like an infant propped up in a seat, his shoulders and head drooping to the side, and his legs falling open. His back was taking the brunt of the awkward position, and Brittany had the urge to grab a sausage pillow and tuck it behind him.

“Can I get you a backrest or something?” she asked, feeling bad for him. “I’m Brittany, by the way.”

He opened his eyes and glanced at her curiously. He had dark eyes, expressionless, and she thought maybe she’d woken him up, because he didn’t speak.

Grabbing a throw pillow from the chair, she moved toward him. “Here, lean forward for a sec.”

He did, and she tucked, bending the pillow in half so it would fill the space behind his lower back.

“Thank you,” he said, his breath expelling on a sigh when he sank back. “And congratulations.”

“What?” Brittany stopped, half-standing, half-bent. Their eyes were almost level with each other, and he held her gaze without blinking.

“The baby. Congrats. You must be excited.”

It was a perfectly inane nothing for him to say, polite conversation, but a cold disturbing shiver rolled down Brittany’s spine. Ringo must have overheard when she and Corbin had been talking. It should have embarrassed her, to know that anyone had been witness to that bumbling debacle. But she felt an edgy unease more than embarrassment, and she stood up, moved back out of Ringo’s space.

“Thank you.”

“Brittany,” Ethan said, striding into the room. “I need to speak with you, please. Back at our apartment. Let’s go.”

“But I don’t think Corbin and I are done talking.” At least she hoped not. They hadn’t resolved anything. All they had really established was what they already knew—that Corbin had sperm, they’d had some romping good sex, and they were having a baby. Surely the conversation needed to go beyond that.

“I don’t care. We need to leave.”

Ethan could be just as stubborn as her sister, which made Brittany wonder how two such similar personalities managed to live together. Though she supposed it wasn’t like they could kill each other, given that they were immortal. They just had to fight it out.

But knowing how to handle Alexis’s stubbornness helped Brittany deal with Ethan now. “Okay, I’ll be there in two minutes. You go ahead without me.”

Ethan nodded. “Good.”

But Alexis was on to her. “If you’re not back at our place in five minutes I’m coming back for you.”

Damn. The conversation with Corbin would have to wait after all. Alexis wouldn’t play around. She’d be back in five minutes, karate kick at the ready. “Fine. I’ll just come with you now.”

She went over to Corbin, who was standing by the front door, arms crossed, looking annoyed. “So, if you think we still have some things to talk about, maybe we could get together in the next few days.” She didn’t want to pressure him, but she wanted to know how involved he intended to be so she could mentally deal with the logistics of raising a vampire baby, either alone or with his help.

“Of course we need to see each other. We have many, many things to discuss,” he said, French arrogance back in place. “I will come to you tonight.”

See, this was what had gotten her in trouble in the first place. When he did that whole appearing out of the dark sexy thing, she couldn’t help but get a little excited. She should tell him no, but they did need to talk. “Fine. But knock on the front door instead of coming in my window this time.”

He relaxed, uncrossed his arms, and cupped her cheek, stroking across her skin. Brittany stared into his pale green eyes, taking comfort in the strength and determination she saw there.

“Our baby will be fine, I am convinced of it. This child is not a mutant, or an aberration, or an accident, but a child born of passion, and I am honored that you will be his mother.”

Now that was a sweet thing to say. Brittany felt some of the tension in her ease. “Thank you. And you really think everything is okay?”

“Absolutely.”

“I’ll see you later then.” Brittany left, feeling much better.