Bled Dry (14 page)

“Go!” She lost her patience and pointed to the door. “It won’t kill you, you know.” How true was that?

He shot her a dark look, the masculine equivalent of a pout. “Fine.”

“Fine.” She smiled at him. “See you in an hour or so.”

Muttering in French, he slipped back out of the room.

“Sorry,” Brittany whispered to the woman next to her, who had turned to watch Corbin’s retreat.

“What was wrong?” she asked.

“Oh, nothing major.” Brittany waved her hand in the air. “But he’s French,” she added, like that explained everything.

“Oh. Right.” The woman nodded in understanding. Then she turned back to the video and made a face. “Oh, yikes, the baby is crowning.”

Indeed it was. Brittany suddenly knew how Corbin felt. She wanted to go home and pretend their child could hatch, already ten years old.

When Austin urinated on him, Corbin figured his night was complete.

“You need to keep a boy covered up at all times,” Sam said with a grin.

It would have been nice to know that ahead of time. Corbin sighed and wiped his arm by rolling it back and forth on the cloth Sam had laid on the changing pad.

“Dude, you’re not having any luck at all tonight,” Travis said, scratching the devil tattoo on his forearm.

“Maybe zat is because I am actually touching the baby,” Corbin told him, holding the clean diaper out in Travis’s direction. “Care to try?”

“No way, man, I’m just trying to, you know, sit back and take it all in. Observing. Learning from watching you.”

Either that or Travis was lily-livered. Austin kicked Corbin with his heel, regaining his attention. He undid the diaper the way Sam had shown him and, after a mere two tries, had it centered under the baby’s bottom. Rather proud of himself, he started to fold the front up and between the legs, when Austin took a roll to the left and flipped himself right onto his round belly and off the diaper. “What the... ?”

“That’s why you never leave a baby alone on the changing table,” Sam said sternly. “And why we did this on the floor. Babies roll. You can’t leave them alone for even two seconds.”

Clearly. Corbin gently hauled Austin back and laid him on his back again, realizing at the last second his head was going to smack on the floor, and shoving his palm under to cradle Austin’s skull until it rested on the pad.

“Good instincts,” Sam nodded.

Corbin had to admit, he was impressing even himself. This was foreign to him, but it really required just some basic training and common sense. He grabbed the diaper again.

Austin did a repeat roll onto his belly, bare bottom facing up. It struck Corbin then how completely amusing and bizarre human infants were, both in appearance and behavior. As he lifted Austin yet again, his plump warm flesh wiggling in Corbin’s grip as he struggled to get free, Corbin couldn’t help but smile.

“You’ll be still, yes?” he said, as he laid the baby back down, and drew his finger across the softness of Austin’s round cheek, wanting to touch that pure skin. He came too close to the baby’s mouth, and Austin turned his head and engulfed Corbin’s finger with his slippery lips. Drool crawled down Corbin’s skin, but the gnawing seemed to preoccupy Austin and he stopped moving around. With his own fat baby hands, he grabbed onto Corbin’s wrist and chewed his finger industriously.

Seizing the opportunity, Corbin got the diaper on one-handed, using his elbow to hold it in place and seal the tabs. The thing was on crooked and didn’t look pretty, but it was snug and should hold. Damnation, this business was exhausting. He was going to have to stop for a pint on the way home. But it was also... illuminating. He thought maybe he was starting to understand the devotion infants inspired in their parents. Austin was adorable and amusing and charming, and required so much care, it was no wonder parents were so vehement about their children. They had a great deal of time and emotion invested in them.

Corbin finished the job, extracted his slimy finger, and lifted Austin up. Some strange instinct compelled him to kiss the baby on the cheek, with lots of noise and eating motions, causing Austin to squeal in delight, a chuckle rising up from deep in his round belly.

If he didn’t think about that horrific video he’d witnessed when he’d walked into Brittany’s class, he actually felt a large sense of contentment. He could do this. Be a father. And a vampire. All at once.

Brittany felt ill. She had an aversion to needles, and when they’d gone straight from the birthing video to the tests and screening video, showing a giant needle going right into a woman’s belly for an amniocentesis, she had gone hot with spots in front of her eyes.

There was no way. No way. She would have to be knocked out first if a doctor wanted to do that to her. Her stomach was churning, face hot, skin clammy, and she had excused herself for a drink of water.

But once in the hallway, she decided she just wanted to leave. She would read the manual at home. These videos were not instructional for her, they were panic inducing.

Sneaking into the back of Corbin’s classroom, she was glad to see they weren’t in a lecture-style class. The men were all gathered on the floor, bent over—she assumed with the baby Corbin had mentioned—so it wouldn’t be a big deal to interrupt.

Moving forward, she noticed it was Corbin who was actually diapering the baby. His brow was furrowed and he was concentrating, completely hunched over as he tried to undo the tabs one-handed.

He looked adorable, his hair falling forward into his eyes, his shirt pulling out of his pants. Despite her precarious stomach, she found herself smiling, and reaching into her purse for her cell phone. She was going to snap a picture of him.

Then he lifted the baby up in the air and Brittany nearly puddled onto the floor. He was
playing
with the baby. Kissing his cheek.

Everything in her inflated and swelled, and she felt breathless, entranced. A little bit in love. In love? Yes, insane as it was. In love, or something close there to it. With the man who was the father of her child.

Maybe this could actually work. This thing between them, and mutual parenting.

She felt a huge sense of relief and gratitude that Corbin Atelier was the kind of man who could see the charm in a baby. Holding her camera out, she snapped a picture.

Corbin saw the flash and glanced over, his smile disappearing, replaced by embarrassment. “Brittany.”

She laughed. “Busted. I caught you on camera so you can’t deny it.” Clicking “Review,” she waved it toward him. “You like babies and I have proof.”

“Brittany, don’t.” Corbin started to stand up, the baby against his chest.

“Too late.” Amused, she glanced back at the screen, hoping the shot had turned out.

What she saw made the blood drain from her face. Oh, God, she’d forgotten. She’d just forgotten.

In the picture, Austin dangled in the air, smiling and laughing. But nothing was holding him. Corbin wasn’t there.

She glanced over at him, horrified. He was a vampire.

No, she supposed she hadn’t forgotten, but she had been swept up in the normalcy of what they’d been doing... preparing for a baby.

But he was a vampire.

And quite possibly, so was her child.

Brittany fought the panic, but all the blood rushed to her face, and she dropped her phone.

“Brittany,” Corbin said, moving toward her, passing the baby to another man.

Eyes blurred by tears, she dragged herself back from the edge of a faint and said, “I’m fine. I’m fine. I just feel a little sick.”

And she whirled around and ran out of the room.

“Fancy meeting you here, Columbia.” Donatelli stood in front of Rockefeller Center and pulled on a pair of camel-colored leather gloves. “I was under the impression you were wearing an ankle bracelet back in Vegas.”

“Maybe I’ve been released for good behavior,” Ringo said, leaning over the railing and checking out the ice rink. A hefty teenage girl shrieked as she slipped and sat hard on her ass.

“Maybe. Or maybe you got your pretty little girlfriend to pick the key off your guard.”

“Maybe.” It wasn’t like it was a secret. Everyone back in Vegas had to have known he left with Kelsey, and he was sure the guard would have come clean about what had happened, though he might not have mentioned to the powers that be where Kelsey’s other hand had been when she lifted the key. Ringo lit a cigarette and took a deep drag.

“Your better half is quite resourceful. Though it’s not as if it’s difficult to get around these little inconveniences. Carrick runs a loose ship.” Donatelli lifted the leg of his black pants. Ringo saw the metal cuff that had matched his own. “I’m sure I could dispense with my own punishment, but I am biding my time. I don’t have any reason to leave Manhattan at the moment, nor do I want to raise ire. That is why I am not entirely pleased by you seeking me out.”

Donatelli was still an asshole. Ringo blew smoke in his face and made a show of looking around. Nothing but tourists lingering and office workers rushing home from work in the dark. “I don’t see anyone trailing you. No one gives a shit what you’re doing, as long as your ankle jewelry stays on and you stay put. So just fucking relax.”

Lifting a paper coffee cup from a four-cup carrying container on the ground, Donatelli drank through the hole in the lid. Ringo could smell it, knew it was blood. His stomach burned with hunger. He had skipped feeding last night in his hurry to find a motel and get to bed. Now he regretted it.

“I’m relaxed.”

The bastard did look completely content.

He took another sip. “Would you care for a drink? Smith ended up heading home early with a date, and he never touched his blend.” Donatelli bent over and lifted another of the coffee cups and held it out to him.

Ringo shook his head rapidly. He knew what was in Smith’s blood drink. It would be tainted with heroin, because Smith was an addict, like Ringo had been. And Donatelli knew it.

“No, thanks,” Ringo said, heart pounding. He wanted a drink. Desperately. He wanted to sink and swim into the blood, to let it careen through his body with the force of a roller coaster, setting off prickles of pleasure everywhere, emptying his mind and soaking him in a false artificial bliss. “I came because I wanted to offer you a piece of information for a price.”

“In regards to what?” Donatelli still held the cup, and swirled the liquid in it around and around.

Sweat formed on Ringo’s forehead. This had been a mistake. Greed had driven him to take a chance, and he was suddenly afraid he’d just dicked himself over. He hadn’t realized how gnawing the temptation would still be, how hard it would be to stare down Donatelli and not be reminded of their past, where Ringo had been the consumer and Donatelli the provider. Clenching his fists in the pockets of his jacket, Ringo said, “In regards to vampire procreation.”

Donatelli looked mildly surprised. “You have my attention, since that is not your area of expertise.”

“But it is Atelier’s, who was in charge of my treatment for drug abuse.”

“How intriguing. I’ll bite. How much?”

“A hundred grand.”

Donatelli snorted and turned toward the skating rink. “That’s ridiculous. And why is that woman wearing those purple pants? That is a crime against cotton.”

Ringo had been prepared for that reaction. “What if I told you that Atelier is going to become a father?”