Bled Dry (Vegas Vampires #3)(25)
Author: Erin McCarthy

“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 ass**le. 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 f**king 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.