Bled Dry (Vegas Vampires #3)(50)
Author: Erin McCarthy

“Allo?” he said.

“Where’s Brittany?”

There was a pause. “Alexis? Brittany should be at your apartment by now. Have you called her cell phone?”

“She’s not answering. Why didn’t she go to work today?”

“You mean you haven’t spoken to her at all? There was no message from her?”

“No.” Alexis started to feel annoyance and a nagging little worry morph into serious fear. “Was she supposed to call me? What’s going on?”

“Brittany was planning to ask for some assistance. That is all I wish to say at the moment.”

Every time she thought she might actually learn to like him, he had to go and piss her off. “Ethan and I need to talk to you and Brittany. Get your French ass over here.”

“I will be there in a few hours. I have an issue or two to resolve here first. Brittany and I intend to meet at your apartment around eleven.”

That wasn’t good enough. “Gwenna is here.”

“Gwenna Carrick?” Corbin sounded surprised. “Why?”

“She has something she needs to share with you and Brittany.”

“Perhaps I can get there sooner.”

She thought so. “Good idea.” Even though she meant to play it cool, she couldn’t help voicing her suspicion. “Are you two planning to elope?”

There was a pause. “No. That is not what we are planning.”

The words should have been reassuring, but instead they scared the crap out of her.

Brittany had spent her whole life in Las Vegas, and had frequented her fair share of casinos and bars in her teens and early twenties. But she had never been inside a suite at the Bellagio.

She would have been impressed with the luxury and the amazing dйcor if she hadn’t been tied to a chair and scared out of her everlovin’ mortal mind.

There were two guards posted on either side of the door. A woman lounged on a divan reading a book, her long legs crossed at the ankle, her expression bored and disinterested. And three men staring at Brittany, each in a club chair that matched hers. One was Ringo, and he looked half-asleep, a glass of blood in his hand that he continually sipped from. She briefly wondered if a vampire could overdose on drugs, because he looked perilously close to a coma. One of the other two was Donatelli. Her father. He gave her encouraging smiles, alternated with inquiries into how they might make her stay more comfortable. Would she care for a pillow? A drink? A bite to eat? It was irritating to listen to him being so civil, when she was strapped down like cumbersome luggage on a car top. But the annoyance she felt at Donatelli was nothing compared to the fear she felt when she looked at the third man. He was huge, with a thick beard, broad shoulders, and fat, hairy hands. His appearance wasn’t the only reason he terrified her. She wasn’t real thrilled with the sick smile on his face. He was enjoying her fear. And his eyes were dead, empty. Insane. He didn’t speak, so she tried not to look at him. She concentrated her attention on Donatelli, who was doing all the talking.

It appalled her to look Donatelli in the face and admit to herself that he was her father. That he had oozed oily charm and suckered her mother into bed, and she was the result of that illustrious encounter. What was worse, though, was the realization that he knew she was pregnant. There was no hiding it. And it was clearly the reason she’d been brought there, because Donatelli’s overly casual questions all focused on the baby and Corbin.

“So when are you due?” he asked, crossing his leg.

She didn’t answer.

“Come now, no need to demur. I can see that you are at least four or five months along. April? That is a pleasant month to give birth. Lots of walks in the spring sunshine. Good for you and the baby.”

Moving her head to flip her hair out of her eyes, she kept her mouth shut. She didn’t know what he wanted or why, and she didn’t want to give him whatever information he must be seeking.

“And Atelier will be there when you give birth? That is so charming.”

It wasn’t hard to stay quiet. She had no interest in making chitchat with him.

What she wasn’t prepared for was the big, boorish man to suddenly stand up and smack her cheek with the back of his hand. He moved so fast she couldn’t even try to shield the blow, and it stung like hell, ripping tears out of her eyes and an involuntary gasp from her mouth.

“Show some respect and answer.”

Brittany flinched, but he only returned to his seat. The woman on the couch gave a casual glance up before turning the page of her book.

“I’m due in April,” Brittany said quickly when he made like he was going to stand up again, hand raised. She was actually due in May, but Donatelli had guessed April, and it felt safer to lie.

Donatelli sat forward, elbows on his knees, a frown on his face. “Really, Gregor, that was not necessary.”

“She gave you an answer, did she not?” Gregor’s accent was thick. Russian.

“I’m sure she’s willing to be reasonable, aren’t you, Brittany?” Donatelli asked, giving her a charming smile.

“I can be reasonable.” In her head, she screamed for Ethan, hoping he would hear her cry for help. She was afraid to call for Corbin, fearful of what would happen if he showed up and the men in front of her forced Corbin to hand over his research. Besides, her mental connection with Corbin had been silent since their second separation, after she had told Corbin about the baby. She didn’t understand why, but they could only hear each other during sex.

Alexis had never been able to hear Brittany’s thoughts, but Ethan could. Once he’d even heard her cry out from an amazing orgasm the first time she’d been with Corbin, and Ethan had been miles away from them, which had been really damn embarrassing. But surely he would hear her fear now if he had been able to hear her pleasure then.

“We know Atelier is the father of your baby. What we need to know is what he plans to do with your child.”

“Nothing.”

“So he has told you nothing about his plans?”

She shook her head, confused. What did they think Corbin was going to do with her baby?

“Alright, that’s fine. Perhaps he hasn’t been forthcoming with you. You are a surrogate. No need for him to share everything with you.”

Brittany frowned. A surrogate? Why would they think that? She glanced at Ringo, who had heard her telling Corbin he was the father of her child. He knew she wasn’t a surrogate. Why would he lie to Donatelli? But he clearly had, and his face revealed nothing. His eyes were hard, glassy, going in and out of focus.