Blood Match

by K. A. Linde

  Harrington found that amusing. “You are the one who created her. It was only safe for the maintenance of a well-run society to remove the loose ends.”

  “My sister is not a loose end!”

  “She most certainly was when I encountered her. You tortured her into insanity over the course of several years, Beckham. What did you think would happen to her?” He smiled that wicked pleased smile he had when he was needling someone. When he was about to go on one of his soliloquies about how brilliant he was. “She certainly wasn’t going to regain her sanity working as second in command of your army. If anything, she was only getting worse. I saw her for the menace to society that she was. So, I took her out of the equation. Killed two birds with one stone with that one. Her disappearance was the only reason that you ended up working for me. All worked out in the end, don’t you think?”

  “You bastard,” Beckham said. “I know what I did to Bronwyn, but she is my sister! You lied to me and killed someone else for her murder. Yet you’ve held her all this time?”

  “Well, it was an easy way to get someone else out of the way,” Harrington said as if he were so clever.

  Reyna’s heart pounded in her chest. Her eyes darted to Beckham. Though he had completely forgotten her standing there in the cold. Beckham had done this to Bronwyn. Beckham was the one who had destroyed her mind. It pained her beyond belief to think that Beckham had created her nightmare.

  And suddenly a conversation with Beckham all those months ago in his penthouse came back to her. His words rang in her mind…

  “I’ve sought people out, tortured them, drove them mad just to kill them slowly through their insanity. I’ve done horrible things and enjoyed it, Reyna.”

  And she realized that she had never truly explored the reality of the statement. He’d done this to Bronwyn, to his own sister. She’d seen firsthand exactly how thorough he’d been. How psychotic he must have been at the time to ruin her in such a way.

  Her heart broke for him. For the weight he must carry around. So destroyed he must have been by it that he couldn’t even tell her the truth of it all.

  “My sister was not a pawn for you to use,” Beckham said low.

  Harrington shrugged. “I use all my pawns as I see fit, and she is not a menace I want walking the streets of my city.”

  “My city,” Beckham growled. “I own this city. I bought it in blood. Bronwyn at my side.”

  “That was too long ago. Cities no longer belong to anyone. The world belongs to me,” Harrington said. “I did you a favor by getting her out of the way. Haven’t you thrived without her?”

  Reyna saw the instant that something inside Beckham snapped at the words. At the knowledge that Harrington had kept Bronwyn from him all these years and was now trying to justify it by calling it a favor.

  He unleashed himself. He lunged forward toward Harrington, who took a step backward in displeasure. Cassandra and Rowland still stood in his path. Beckham would have to go through them to get to Harrington. Always another barrier. But there was nothing left in Beckham except revenge, death, and destruction.

  He was savage and uncontrollable. She’d seen him fight Rowland before…but this was…this was beyond anything she could imagine.

  His movements were lightning fast. So fast that she could hardly register them. He took on Cassandra and Rowland as one. Hands flying, arms moving, legs kicking. It was a blur.

  Beckham was larger than both of them. Rowland had a slimmer frame with equally quick movements. Cassandra was tall and lithe. She had none of his supreme strength, but she was slippery like an eel. Evading capture and delivering blows that would have incapacitated an ordinary man. Rowland was the opposite of Cassandra’s stealthy movements, diving right into Beckham’s calculated advances.

  And then it shifted.

  Beckham had Cassandra in a neck hold. Her back to his chest. His arm across her shoulders. His hand cupping her chin. Then a sickening snap sounded through the building and Cassandra’s body went limp.

  Reyna’s gasp was audible as the light left Cassandra’s eyes. When they snapped back up to Beckham’s there was nothing in them.

  And he didn’t stop there. He used the rest of his strength and physically ripped Cassandra’s head from her shoulders. He let the body drop, the severed spinal cord showing through. Blood coated the patio floor. Vampire blood.

  Beckham still held Cassandra’s head. Her mouth still open in shock and fear. Her red hair blowing in the winter breeze.

  He tossed the head at Harrington’s feet as if it were a trophy, wiped his bloody hands on his tuxedo pants and then turned to face Rowland. He lifted one hand and then beckoned Rowland forward.

  “If you dare,” he snarled.

  Harrington toed the decapitated head of his ex–senior vice president with disdain. “Now, you’ve made a mess.”

  Beckham and Rowland weren’t listening. They were circling each other like champion fighters.

  “It will be with great pleasure when I finally end you,” Rowland said. “After what you did with that little bitch.”

  “You always were all bark and no bite,” Beckham said and then lunged.

  “Enough!” Harrington said.

  But neither of them were listening to him any longer.

  Reyna’s eyes were round with fear. This wasn’t how any of this was supposed to happen. Beckham had snapped. Finding out that Bronwyn was alive all this time had wrecked him. He’d already died a thousand deaths for her. But this…this was catastrophic. She hoped after all this was over…he’d be able to come back from the brink.

  Then Harrington’s hand was on her elbow. She shrieked and tried to wrench herself out of his grasp, but he was too fast. He put her body in front of his and held her in place in the same manner that Beckham had just held Cassandra. He was going to snap her neck.

  Fear rolled off of her. As if sensing the trouble she was in, Beckham tore himself away from Rowland and rounded on Harrington. His eyes cleared. And he saw the predicament she was in. That he should have never allowed her to be in.

  Chapter 37

  “Cease or I’ll kill her,” Harrington said.

  “You won’t kill her,” Beckham said. He was breathless. The fighting was intense. He and Rowland were nearly evenly matched. “You need her.”

  “As a matter of fact, I don’t need her. I found one other. A little old lady who has gone her entire life without ever having to get her blood drawn. No children. No surgeries. Truly miraculous. Thank Visage for the Blood Census.”

  Beckham paled.

  “But I don’t want to kill her, Beckham. Don’t make me the bad guy here.”

  Reyna laughed a short hysterical breath.

  Harrington ignored her. “Why don’t we act civilized, hmm? Let’s forgo our baser qualities for the moment. Look what we’re going to have to clean up.”

  Harrington gestured to the dead body lying between them.

  Reyna’s hands were shaking. She was cold. Very cold. And terrified. Harrington might be crazy enough to kill her. To do it anyway. Her hands trembled as they moved into the folds of her gown. She could take this gun out now. She could turn around and shoot Harrington. She wasn’t faster than him, but she could pull a gun on him and hit him at point-blank range.

  Beckham’s eyes moved to hers and he moved his head marginally. Just enough for her to see that he was telling her no. Don’t do it.

  She knew that she could get herself killed trying it, but she had to try. Except…Beckham told her not to.

  “Fine,” Beckham said.

  He didn’t want her to be in danger. She could see it in the way he prowled away from Rowland. Rowland straightened and paced a step away from him.

  “There we are. Back to manners,” Harrington said. He released Reyna with ease. Harrington assessed her with cold calculation. “You are freezing
.”

  Yes. She was actually trembling now. Not just with fear. Cold was creeping into her bones. She’d thought that she would lure him outside and convince him she wanted to come back and then…it had all gone terribly wrong. Somehow Harrington had gotten the upper hand. She didn’t know how it had happened so suddenly.

  Beckham slipped his coat off of his shoulders. He stepped forward, eyeing both Harrington and Rowland carefully before slipping it onto her small frame. It enveloped her, dropping down nearly to her knees. Blood soaked some of the expensive material and a trail from the collar smudged onto her collarbone. She could smell the tangy rust and recoiled from it.

  Harrington stepped forward and patted Beckham affectionately on the shoulder. It was as if all was well in the world. As if he hadn’t just killed someone.

  “That’s better.”

  Beckham’s eyes narrowed and he brushed Harrington’s hand off of his shoulder. “Hardly. You kidnapped my sister and kept her hidden from me for years. You kidnapped Reyna and tortured her. You treated me like a son, and yet you never trusted me.”

  “Trust,” Harrington scoffed. “The word equates to power. You had it. You’re my prodigy, Beckham. You are a son to me.”

  “No,” he spat. “If you believed that then you would not need Bronwyn as a bargaining chip. Or Reyna, for that matter. I should have followed my instincts all those years ago and killed you the second you stepped foot in my city.”

  Harrington waved his hand dismissively. “More of this ‘my city’ business. If it was truly yours then you wouldn’t have handed it over to me so readily. I didn’t even have to kill you like you killed your predecessor.”

  “You were offering us a utopia. I was a fool to have ever believed in it. Now I won’t stop until I see it ended.”

  Harrington sighed. “Oh Beckham, I do wish you hadn’t said that.”

  “I was wrong about you. About all of you and all of this.” His eyes moved from Harrington to Rowland and back. “I will burn you to the ground.”

  “That’s where you are wrong,” Harrington said. “I am already burning you down. Your little bunker. Your little rebellion. All of Elle.”

  Reyna gasped. Her hand flew to her mouth. She took a step forward without knowing she’d done it, as if she could somehow get him to take it back.

  “Burned?” she whispered.

  What about everyone inside? What about her brother and Laura? What about Sydney and Washington and Tye? Even Everett! All those people working toward this moment of triumph. And now they were burning. Her throat closed up. She could almost smell the smoke from where she stood in horror.

  “You burned down Elle?” Beckham asked, his voice as sharp as a razor blade.

  “I’d thought that you’d at least deny your involvement. That you’d show me that you are still the person that I recruited so many years ago. It’s a shame. I wanted it to be you.” And Harrington did look moved. But not repentant.

  “I won’t deny anything.” Beckham reached out and seized Rowland by the neck and then threw him backward. Rowland collided with the building and crumpled, cracking the side of the building and taking a few bricks with him. He coughed and tried to rise, but fell down again. “And now all of your guard dogs are down for the count.”

  Harrington laughed. Actually laughed. “I always loved your enthusiasm, Beckham.”

  Beckham reached out to grasp Harrington. To end this whole thing. But Harrington was fast. Much faster than Beckham had been anticipating. He moved out of the way and gracefully stood back with his hands in his pockets.

  “You’re missing something, Beckham,” Harrington said. “You haven’t quite realized that you’ve lost. If you fight against me, I’ll kill Reyna. If you fight against me, I’ll kill Bronwyn. If you fight against me, I’ll crush your little rebellion. Oh, wait, I already did that for your insolence.”

  “You can’t kill them if you’re dead,” Beckham said.

  “I have a sniper on that building,” Harrington said, pointing behind them. “And a kill order on Bronwyn if anything happens to me. Both will be dead before you can do to me what you just did to Cassandra.”

  Beckham snarled. But Reyna could see the moment Harrington’s words sunk in. He had the upper hand. Neither of them were getting out of this. Somehow Harrington had managed to outmaneuver them.

  “I have all the players on the board. I even have your little Penelope. What a treat that girl is. You know what they say about crossing a scorned woman.”

  Reyna’s stomach sank even further. Penny. Hell hath no fury. Of course, she hadn’t just turned…she’d turned coat too. She’d double-crossed Elle. Sent them into another ambush.

  Harrington smiled at their shocked silence. “Checkmate.”

  Beckham’s fury simmered, but she could see that he knew there was no win in this scenario. Penelope had sold them out. Harrington would kill Reyna and Bronwyn if he tried to kill him. He knew all along what was going to happen. Which meant that they had no action here.

  Harrington won.

  He fucking won.

  All of this for nothing.

  Losing Brian for nothing. Putting her life on the line for nothing. Elle burning for nothing.

  Her eyes snagged on Beckham. There was love. Endless eternal love in those eyes. And an apology. For fucking up. For walking her into this. For not being able to fix all of it.

  She’d made this plan. She’d walked them all into it. It was her fault, not Beckham’s. He hadn’t wanted to risk it. And she’d been so headstrong that she hadn’t stopped to consider the real possibility that Harrington could win this.

  Their rebellion was just and righteous.

  They had to win.

  And yet…there was no hope.

  Not even a sliver that they could escape this. If Beckham moved against Harrington, he’d destroy everything he loved. And Harrington didn’t need Reyna. He had another match. She was no longer one of a kind to him.

  But her mind snagged on that.

  A little old lady.

  He’d said that. No…sneered that. He must be drinking from her to be so healthy…but she couldn’t be providing everything he needed. He wouldn’t have tried to negotiate with her if he didn’t care. In fact, he wouldn’t have bothered with any of these charades if he hadn’t really needed Reyna.

  Her mind wrapped around that piece of information. She looked it over from every angle. Assessed its worth. And then made her decision.

  Her hand slipped into the pocket of her dress and she removed the gun hidden against her thigh. Harrington’s eyes snapped to the cool metal clutched in her hand.

  “What are you doing?” he demanded furiously.

  Then she chambered a bullet and put the gun to her temple. “You’re bluffing.”

  His eyes widened. His hands fluttered at his side as if he wanted to reach forward and snatch the gun from her hand.

  “Just try,” she dared him. “See if you can get to me before I pull the trigger.”

  “I already said that I don’t need you,” he said angrily.

  “You do need me. You would never be so incredibly wasteful when a perfectly good blood match is available.”

  “You know nothing.”

  “A little old lady,” Reyna said. Then she spat the words he’d said to her in Visage all those weeks ago. “You exposed your queen. You should never leave your queen unguarded. The game isn’t finished.”

  Harrington’s smug expression evaporated. She didn’t dare look at Beckham. She couldn’t look him in the eye when she gambled next.

  “You let Beckham walk out of here alive and promise never to search for him and I’ll come with you now,” Reyna finally said.

  “No!” Beckham cried.

  “You think you can bargain with me?”

  “It’s the only deal that I ha
ve to offer. My life for his.”

  “Reyna, no. Don’t do this,” Beckham begged. “Your life is worth more than mine.”

  “We can agree on that at least,” Harrington said.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered to Beckham. She looked back at Harrington. “I’m waiting for an answer.”

  “I watched you for weeks, my little queen,” Harrington said. “I know that you are a survivor. You value self-preservation above all else. You won’t pull that trigger, and you will come with me regardless.”

  “I’ll do it,” she said, her hand shaking where it held the gun in place. “I care more for him than I ever will for my own life.”

  “Reyna,” Beckham pleaded.

  Harrington raised an eyebrow. “Oh, is this love? How quaint.”

  “You could never understand love,” Reyna spat.

  “Love is a weakness. And I have no need for weaknesses, as I have no need for a traitor.”

  A blue dress appeared at the door, snagging everyone’s attention. Penelope’s shocked face took in the scene around her—Cassandra’s dead body, Rowland slowly getting to his feet, and Reyna with a gun to her head, standing between the two most powerful men in the world.

  “What is going on?” Penny gasped.

  But the distraction was all Harrington needed.

  He moved so fast that no one could even see what he was doing. No one could move to stop him. It wasn’t until the dust settled that Reyna saw he had Beckham’s head between his hands, that Beckham’s head was wrenched to the side with his eyes turned away from her, and then finally…Harrington’s triumphant smile.

  She saw Harrington release him.

  She watched Beckham’s body slump to the ground.

  Then she screamed.

  And screamed.

  Chapter 38

  Reyna’s blood ran cold.

  Her world tilted.

  She swung off axis.

  Everything unraveled.

  She was still screaming. She couldn’t stop screaming. She would have no voice and she’d still be screaming. In her blood, in her mind, in her soul. She would go on like this for the rest of her life. Never ceasing.