Chapter 13

No, this wasn't right. The system must have hit a glitch. Even if this was three different Lyndas and not her, they shouldn't have the same name for all three vampire princes.

She sat back from the laptop and selected the first name to view the file. DNA sample submitted January 21...ten years ago. That was when she started collecting samples. She clicked on the profile, and an old picture of her came up.

Wait, she'd given her own DNA early on to check it was working right, but she had frozen her account because she didn't want to be matched to anyone, so why was it unlocked now?

The next Lynda Garcia showed the same thing. Her bet was the third was going to be her too.

Impossible. The program must have a bug in it that unfroze her account then matched it with the vamps. As much as she wanted it to be true, she couldn't depend on the results being accurate. And if Dracula discovered the truth that she really wasn’t a biological match for his sons, he wouldn't be understanding.

Okay, so she needed to remove herself from the equation and run the program again. This time it shouldn't take so long as all the data from Andrei's had merged with hers now.

She placed her file in a separate folder then deleted it from the report parameters and ran the system. While she waited, she forced herself to eat, which was a bit easier with Pierre's awesome cooking. A man who made great food was sexy in her book. Mihnea was the strong, brooding type that she could spend day and night with. And Andrei...he stirred her up inside like no one had before...well until she met his brothers. Each of them had taken a piece of her heart, and without them, she didn't think she'd ever be able to put it back together.

Her tears burned behind her eyes and she scrubbed them away, diving into another homemade pastry.

After she'd eaten a half dozen of the sweets and drank a full glass of fresh milk she found in the fridge, she pressed her mouse over the view results page.

Compatibility using biological data only Andrei: 0 matched Mihnea: 0 matched Pierre: 0 matched What? That can't be right. She adjusted the report, reducing the chances of pregnancy to forty-nine percent.

An hour later, the same data popped up.

Compatibility using biological data only at 49% success Andrei: 0 matched Mihnea: 0 matched Pierre: 0 matched Damn! She lowered the scale again to ten percent.

Andrei: 2 matched Mihnea: 3 matched Pierre: 4 matched Okay, now she was getting somewhere. After playing around with various percentages, she settled on eighteen percent and established a woman for each of them.

Her throat tightened as she clicked on one of the women. A pretty blonde popped up for Pierre and Lynda closed the laptop. She couldn't do this. Push her loves into other women's arms. No, she'd let them do whatever they wanted with the data, but she couldn't watch them as they fell in love and had their perfect half-breed children while her heart was crushed.

It was an hour and a half until sunset, but she couldn't face any of them. Their eyes would light up at the news of her finding them mates. Dracula would be pleased and probably rub it in her face by asking her to be the maid-of-honor at the triple wedding.

She dug into the kitchen drawers for a piece of paper and pen. After she scribbled a note of the desired results and her laptop password, she grabbed her phone and handbag and tore outside. Her laptop would give them the access they needed to her reports, but her program was locked away with another password on her servers.

The street buzzed with people getting off work and teens setting out for Friday night dates. Cars honked at a flashing red light. Inside the safe house, Lynda hadn't heard any of the city noise. It slapped against her ears as if she'd left a private island and thrust herself into the real world with its smog and craziness and nonstop chaos.

She tucked her purse under her arm and quickly walked to the nearest intersection. Part of her was tempted to memorize the street signs to find her way back, but she had to leave her fantasies behind, no matter how much it hurt.

A wave of cars rolled past, and she kept dragging herself farther down the street. The next light was First Street. Plenty of taxis there to hail. She stepped quickly to catch the flashing walking sign when a heavy hand on her shoulder made her jump.

She spun to tell the creep to keep his hands to himself when she recognized the dark eyes that stared back at her. Her first thought was Dracula. But the man wore a hoodie with the hood up. Besides the sun still shone.

When he reached for her, she scuttled back. “What do you want?”

“You,” his harsh voice promised something she wanted no part of.

“Back off, I'm not interested.” She moved to give him a wide berth.

He snarled and leapt at her, snagging her arm, and tossing her into a nearby alley before her scream left her lungs.

“It wasn't an option.” His accent was more pronounced now. Russian.

Shit, was this a vampire? In daylight? “Stay away; I have protection.” She kept her gaze on him as she rummaged through her purse for her blessed wood and silver gun.

“You mean the three Romanian boys?” He spat out, hate in his eyes.

Her blood ran cold. How did this guy know she was with them? Did he know where the safe house was? Her vamps would be sitting ducks until sundown which was an hour away.

“Let me go, and we can forget all this. Okay?” Where was her fucking gun?

In the darkness of the alley, he smiled, his fangs extended slightly. Not as long as real vamps, but they looked wicked sharp. A couple scurried past them, not looking her way as if they didn’t want to get involved.

She swallowed, backing up until she hit the brick wall of the building behind her. The street where anyone could see her and offer help was too far away. With the sun setting, the alley was a black hole to anyone passing by.

“Too bad the boss wants you dead.” He sucked on his fangs. “I bet you'd make a tasty bedmate.”

“Go fuck yourself.” Her hand closed over her gun, and she yanked it out, firing at his chest.

The bullet hit him in the chest but missed his heart. He flinched, then roared, tackling her before she could pull the trigger again. Her head smacked against the concrete. The gun flung out of her hand at the impact as the Russian’s weight crashed against her.

Her head spun, and she tasted blood in her mouth.

He grunted and hauled her up to his side. Her limbs wouldn’t work as he dragged her towards a waiting van. She attempted to dig in her heels, but her feet slid along with his gait.

“Hel—” she screamed, but the Russian clamped his mouth over hers, running his hands over her body as she fought to push away.

“Is there a problem, miss?” A young man asked.

The Russian placed a gun into her side before he whispered, “Say anything, call for help and I’ll kill you and anyone who tries to stop me.” The Russian nodded to the man. “It’s our anniversary, and I want a cheeseburger, and the wife wants a fancy Italian dinner.”

Lynda forced a smile, nodding but her throat was closed up too tight for her to speak.

“Congratulations,” the man called back. “Giovanni’s up the road is the best in town.”

“Thanks.” The Russian turned to her, hissing in her ear, “Get in the van or my five buddies inside will be happy to turn this into a gang-war gunfight and shoot everyone in sight. So, either you come nicely now, or we peel what’s left of you off the cement and wrap it in a shoe box for the fucking princes to fight over.”

To her left, a woman with a toddler and pushing a baby carriage frowned as her child spilled his ice cream. A young teenager walked three poodles, and two businessmen stood at a bus stop. More people crossed back and forth along the intersections. A homeless man bummed a cigarette from a woman in a fur coat. As much as she wanted to live, she couldn’t knowingly cause harm to so many innocent people.

Lynda swallowed and gave a curt nod.

“Good.” He shoved her through the open door.

One of the men grabbed her and hit her with something hard on her head.