Bled Dry (Vegas Vampires #3)(56)
Author: Erin McCarthy

“He’s fine,” was her sister’s reply. “He has everything under control.”

“But shouldn’t we… can’t we… ” Shoot a rocket at Gregor and launch him off the roof? There was an idea.

Alex rubbed her arms gently. “Sweetie, no. This is Corbin’s fight. Men don’t want to be rescued. Hell, I don’t want to be rescued. Now come on, let’s go.”

Leave? Was her sister nuts? “I can’t leave until I know he’s okay.”

“You’ll just distract him. He wants you safe.”

Crap. She knew Alex was right, but she couldn’t leave. Gregor was so strong and Corbin was… kicking his ass. Gregor was huffing and puffing, while Corbin hadn’t even broken a sweat. He held the sword loosely, yet whenever Gregor charged him, he was always right there with a block and a stab. Gregor’s chest was blooming scarlet from all the hits he’d taken.

“The baby, Brittany. Think about the baby.”

At the same moment, she saw Corbin glance over at her. “Brittany!” he yelled, appalled. “Get out of here!” Shoot, she was distracting him.

“Okay!” She moved toward the stairs. “But what about Donatelli?” It seemed rude to leave him there after he had tried to help her escape.

“Gwenna’s got him. She and Ethan will haul him out.”

Actually, Donatelli was walking on his own, and he and Gwenna were arguing.

“What the hell is the matter with you?” he demanded. “What were you thinking to grab that sword? I almost had a goddamn heart attack.”

“You can’t have a heart attack,” she told him sharply, her arm around his middle, supporting his weight. “And you should be ashamed of yourself for kidnapping a pregnant woman.”

“I had no intention of hurting her. And this is what happens when I don’t have you acting as my conscience.”

Gwenna bristled. “That was utterly exhausting, given your many misdeeds, so I retired. It’s called a divorce. And you haven’t changed one bit in the two hundred years since.” They moved slowly toward the door.

Brittany exchanged a look with Alexis. Gwenna was a bit more of a pistol than she had expected. And Ethan looked like he was choking on a nut. His face was completely red. “Can you move a little faster?” he demanded. “We’d like to get Brittany out of here before Gregor throws down his sword and charges us. Maybe we should leave Donatelli here.”

“Don’t let me burden you,” Donatelli pronounced coldly, letting go of Gwenna, and stepping aside, a sour and stubborn look on his face.

“Oh, for crying out loud.” Gwenna yanked his shirt. “Just get your bloody arse down these steps. Ethan, you be quiet or I’ll be tempted to box your ears. You have absolutely no reason to despise Roberto as much as you do.”

Donatelli and Ethan both looked startled, but Ethan was quick to retort, “You’ve gone daft! He’s been a bloody thorn in my side for nine centuries. He broke Alexis’s wrist. And he just hired an assassin to have me killed last fall!”

Scoffing, Donatelli limped down the stairs, holding his ribs under his blood-soaked shirt. “I knew he couldn’t kill you. It was just politics, nothing personal, Carrick.”

Gwenna glared at the men. “And you both wonder why I choose to hide in a pile of rocks in York? It’s so I don’t have to deal with either one of you.”

Alexis turned to Brittany, looking bewildered. “Something weird just happened. The three of them just had some kind of power struggle and I think Gwenna won.”

But Brittany was barely listening. As they went through the doorway, she was glancing back over her shoulder, checking on Corbin. He and Gregor were circling each other. Corbin had a feral grin on his face as he strode to the left, eye always on Gregor, his wrist spinning his sword like he was working the table at a hibachi steakhouse.

There was just no way she could leave.

Doing a totally stupid girl move, she ran back up the stairs, out onto the roof, and slammed the door shut behind her.

“After everything I’ve done for you, this is how you repay me?” Gregor said to Corbin, moving slowly, his breathing hard and labored.

“If I had had any idea zat you wanted to use my research for cloning, I would never have taken your money.” Corbin should have realized that no man shelled out hundreds of thousands of dollars without having a personal stake in it, no matter how rich or odd. Yet Chechikov had fooled him with his recluse status, his complete disinterest, his eccentric and random distribution of funding. “And I have lifted my sword because you took Brittany and my child.”

“You’re a scientist. You, more so than anyone else, understand the implications of that baby. You can’t keep him hidden, you know. I am going to win the election and then I will find your child. It would be much smarter to work together with me. I promise not to harm the baby if you conduct all your research on my behalf. Together we can rule the Nation.”

Corbin shook his head. “That’s your dream, not mine. And there is no more research. I destroyed all the data this afternoon. I am the only vampire who understands our genetic makeup, who can facilitate both a return to mortality and a population explosion, and it is gone. All of it.” Which wasn’t exactly true, but he was keeping that information to himself.

His words sent Gregor into a rage. “You French fool! I’ll kill you and take your baby and do the damn research without your goddamn pathetic little concerns.”

When he charged him, Corbin was ready, knowing Gregor had more strength than he did, but that his asset was agility and technique. When the Russian came at him, Corbin spread his legs, arched his sword, and with every ounce of strength he had, sliced the blade deep into Chechikov’s throat and neck, pushing backward to drive it deeper. Gregor stumbled, blood spraying, hands clawing at his neck, and with a tremendous heave, he managed to repel both Corbin and the sword back. But the momentum of his own massive push, the give of the sword leaving his neck, sent him catapulting backward, where he tripped and went over the side of the building with a roar of fury.

Dropping the sword, Corbin jogged to the edge of the roof and glanced down. Chechikov was falling fast and hard, and he heard the faint thump when the Russian collided with the top of a semitruck parked at the food delivery entrance of the casino and hotel. With any luck, Corbin had succeeded in driving the sword deep enough to cause death, or to injure him enough that he would bleed out on the truck before healing.