her vulnerability. There was no mercy in this man’s eyes, she thought. Naomi could only guess at his intentions. Thoughts of child trafficking and slavery rushed into her mind.
“You don’t need to understand. You belong to me now. The child growing in your belly belongs to me.”
Naomi’s pulse raced, and she placed her hand over her protruding stomach. “What do you want with my child?” Another contraction hit her, and she bowed over, clutching her stomach.
The guards gripped her shoulders and lowered her to the filthy mattress, stained dark with blood.
Quinn watched from the sidelines as Padraig approached the bed, his green eyes gleaming when he sunk his fangs into her throat. He searched Naomi’s mind, racing past the moments of her transition and the agony that followed as the child she delivered died soon after.
Quinn continued to search her memories.
When the images in Naomi’s mind cleared, he paused. Thin spears of light penetrated the window blinds of a lavishly decorated living room. A late eighteen-hundreds burl wood couch and two ornate chairs arranged on an Asian rug of red and cream. Naomi sat in a chair near the fireplace. A tapestry of a dog hunt covered the pale blue wall opposite her. Silent, she watched her creator.
Padraig paced while two male Second Bloods stood shoulder to shoulder near the door. “Why can’t you find her? She’s a child,” he roared.
One of the vamps, wearing a tailored suit stepped forward. “Sir, her mother was dead already when we got to the hospital and the child gone. Apparently taken by a family member.”
“What name is she using?”
“Ellie. Ellie Sharp.” The vamp looked increasingly nervous as he clenched his hands.
“What about her mother’s body? Did you at least think to retrieve the remains?” He swept an arm through the air. “Of course, you didn’t.”
“When Samantha Sharp’s name was flagged by our security system, we immediately went to investigate,” the taller of the two vamps explained. “Unfortunately, there is a time delay, and her remains had already been cremated when we arrived.”
Padraig continued to pace, his hands clutched behind his back. “Who took the child? Samantha had a sister.”
The shorter Second Blood with blond-cropped hair straightened his shoulders. There was a long pause. “We tracked down the sister.”
The vamp stopped his pacing, turning toward the two males. “And?”
“All I saw in her memories was Ellie waiting in a chair at the hospital. The only other person there was a big cowboy. He was waiting for another patient.”
“Did you bring the aunt? Maybe she is the same as her sister.”
Both of Padraig’s men glanced toward the ground, before the taller one found the nerve to say, “I’m sorry, sir. She escaped.”
Padraig shook his head in disgust. “I need that child. She’s the key to set us all free.”
“We know. We’ll find her,” the blond Second Blood stated.
“Her fucking mother is to blame,” Padraig railed. “If she hadn’t managed to evade me for so long, I could claim the child. Raise her as my own. Breed more like her.” He leaned against the thick, painted mantle of the fireplace. “Ellie is six years old now. Somebody has her. I want her back.” He drilled the two men with a dangerous glare. “Gather more men. Begin a search, starting in Tucson. Go to every household. Search every foster home. Tell them she’s a missing child. People will talk. Someone must have seen her.”
“Yes, sir.” They both bowed and departed the room.
Padraig trained his gaze on Naomi. “And you. Another failure. I should terminate you.” With a slow step, he approached, unzipping his pants. “But you’re just too damn beautiful to waste.”
Naomi remained seated as his thick cock sprung from his open fly.
“Stand up. Go to the couch and grip the backrest.”
She did his bidding, and Quinn backed away from the scene as Padraig plunged his shaft into Naomi’s slippery wet core. She hated him, but loved the feel of his hardness inside her.
Blinking, he withdrew from her mind. Eyes open, she stared at Quinn. “You’re a strong woman,” he said. “Stronger than most.”
Naomi shrugged her slender, smooth shoulder.
One burning question remained. A flick of distrust, not the first he’d had when it came to Naomi, pushed him to ask, “Did your sire send you to us? Does he know we have Ellie?”
She quickly shook her head. “Padraig began to trust me. He gave me more freedom. I used that to my benefit and escaped.”
Her explanation seemed too much like a practiced response. Quinn couldn’t tell if