Vince stared at her. She made a pretty picture, standing there with the infant cradled in her arms. For a moment, he imagined she was his wife and that the baby was his. The impossibility of such a thing filled him with a nameless anger.

“What the hell are you going to do with it?” he asked gruffly.

“After we get my father home, I’ll take the baby to the police and say that I found it. I’m sure the parents must be frantic.”

“What if it’s an orphan?” Brenna wondered aloud.

“I don’t know,” Cara said. “We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”

Vince grunted softly as he followed her outside. He hadn’t missed the wistful note in Brenna’s voice. He couldn’t help wondering if she was thinking about adopting another baby or, in this case, stealing one. But it wasn’t his concern.

He settled Roshan in the back seat of Frank Di Giorgio’s car. Brenna refused to be separated from her husband. Climbing into the back seat, she cradled his head in her lap. Cara got into the front seat with the baby, and Vince squeezed in beside her.

“Someone should burn that horrible place down,” Brenna muttered.

“Maybe someone will,” Di Giorgio remarked.

Seeing the expression on the bodyguard’s face, Vince was pretty sure that the lab would be nothing but a pile of rubble come morning.

They traveled in silence for a while and then Cara looked up at Vince. “Where did you go?” she asked. “Why did you leave like that, without even telling me good-bye.”

Mindful of the others in the car, he said, “I had to leave town suddenly.”

“So suddenly you couldn’t take five minutes to call me?”

“I couldn’t get to a phone.” Another lie, he thought ruefully. When would it end?

“So, when did you get back in town?”

“Late last night.”

“Oh. Where are you staying?”

“I’m back at the garage,” he said, grinning. “The owner made me sign a one-year lease this time.”

Before she could ask any more questions, the car careened around a corner and rattled over a rut in the road. A short time later, Di Giorgio pulled up in front of DeLongpre’s house.

Holding the baby in one arm, Cara ran to open the front door. Di Giorgio went back to close and lock the gate while Vince carried DeLongpre into the house. Brenna hovered at his side.

“Upstairs,” Brenna directed, running ahead.

With a nod, Vince carried the unconscious vampire up the stairs and into the bedroom where Brenna waited. She had turned down the covers on the bed and Vince settled the vampire on the mattress.

Cara stood in the doorway, her face pale. “Will he be all right?”

“He’ll be fine,” Brenna said, stroking his hair. “He just needs rest.”

And blood, Vince thought. He looked across the bed at Brenna and knew she was thinking the same thing.

“Cara,” Brenna said quietly, “send Frank up here, then wait for me downstairs.”

“Why? What can he do?”

Brenna blew out a sigh. “Your father needs blood right away.”

“Frank knows what you are?”

“Of course.”

Cara glanced at her father, then took a deep breath. “If he needs blood, he can have mine.”

“No, Cara.”

“Why not?”

“Because he wouldn’t want you to see this part of our existence.”

“I don’t care. He’s my father and he needs help. I’ve given blood before…” She laughed humorlessly. “Recently, in fact.”

“But not like this.”

Cara laid the baby on the love seat by the fireplace then looked at her mother. “We’re wasting time. Tell me what to do.”

Brenna’s shoulders slumped in defeat. Every moment she wasted arguing was one more moment of suffering for Roshan.

“Come, child,” she said, “sit here, beside him.”

Now that she’d gotten her way, Cara began to have doubts, but she thrust them aside. All her life, her father had cared for her, loved her, and protected her as best he could. She wasn’t going to turn her back on him now, when he needed her.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Brenna asked. “It’s going to hurt.”

“I’m sure,” Cara said, though her voice quivered noticeably.

Brenna looked over at Vince. “I need your help.”

“You’ve got it.”

“Stand here and hold Cara’s other hand.”

Vince did as she asked, effectively blocking Cara’s view of what was about to happen. Taking a deep breath, Brenna used her thumbnail to make an incision in Cara’s wrist.

Blood flowed in the wake of the cut.

Lifting Cara’s arm, Brenna held it to Roshan’s lips. “Drink, love,” she commanded softly.

A shudder ran through the vampire’s body as he grasped his daughter’s arm with both hands, his mouth closing over the wound.

Vince understood why Brenna didn’t offer her husband her own blood. It was a rare thing for one vampire to drink the blood of another, but in this instance, he heartily wished that Brenna had refused Cara’s offer. The scent of her blood teased his nostrils, tempting him to push Roshan aside and lift her arm to his own lips.

Cara stared into Vince’s eyes, unable to believe what was happening, wondering if now she, too, would become a vampire. As repulsive as the idea was, it seemed a small price to pay to save her father’s life.

After what seemed like a very long time but was only a few moments, Brenna drew Cara’s arm away. She ran her tongue over the wound and it immediately stopped bleeding.

Vince lifted Cara to her feet and put his arms around her. “Are you all right?”

Cara nodded, her gaze on her father. He looked a little better, she thought, not quite so pale.

And then, to her surprise, her mother made a gash in her own wrist and held it to her father’s lips. Only for a moment, but the transformation was amazing.

The lines of pain that had been etched deep into his face disappeared as if by magic. The color returned to his cheeks. Even the raw places where the silver had touched his skin didn’t look as red and angry as before.

Opening his eyes, Roshan saw Brenna hovering over him. “Cara?”

“She’s here,” Brenna said, taking his hand in hers.

“Hi, Dad,” Cara said, moving closer to the bed. “How do you feel?”

Roshan stared at his daughter, an expression of horror crossing his face. “Why?” He looked at Brenna. “Why did you let her do it?”




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