by K. A. Linde
But she hadn’t loved Beckham any less. Not a modicum.
Even when he stood in the freezing cold as snow blanketed the earth and brooded like the broody brooder he was.
“Are you going to tell me what you’re thinking or should I guess?”
Beckham didn’t respond.
“Oh, I should get creative, then. Friday afternoon after work, heading to the bar with your friends and drinking yourself stupid. No, summer days lying out in the sun and getting a tan.” She chuckled at the idea of Beckham with a tan. Yeah, right. “Daydreaming about taking me to an exotic beach and never seeing the snow again. Or anything but the bedroom.”
That got his attention.
“I prefer the night.”
“And here I thought you preferred the bedroom.”
“Reyna…”
“Could you clue me in on the staring? Why the somber aloofness?”
“I have been contemplating ways to stop Harrington.”
“As have I. We already know how to draw him out and how to use his weaknesses against him. But I feel as if I’m missing something. Like Harrington is always one step ahead of us and I haven’t figured out how to get a step ahead of him.”
Beckham stiffened. “We already know how to draw him out?”
“Yes,” she said softly.
“You want to use yourself as bait. Again.” He said each word crisper and more biting than the last.
“If it comes to that.”
“Your protection is my greatest concern. Though you are his blood type, that does not offer you all the protections you believe it does.”
“I know. You know…there are ways to fix that,” she said hesitantly.
His anger was swift and brutal. “No. Absolutely not.”
“If I’m so soft and fragile as a human, then do the unexpected. Something Harrington would never expect.”
“This isn’t up for debate. I will not take your life from you.”
“It’s not taking my life. It’s turning me into a vampire. Just like you.”
Beckham snarled. “We do not know if you would even survive such a transformation. Or that you would be the same person you are now when you are on the other side. Most hunger for nothing but blood until they have their blood type matched. As you already are aware, you have an incredibly rare blood type. Harrington has been looking for years to find a match. You may never find one. What would you do then?” His eyes were brutal with anger and vehemence. “You would eat. You would kill. You would be the very thing that you despise, and there would be nothing I could do to change that.”
Reyna took a step back. His anger only mounted at the very suggestion. At the audacity of her even considering it. She knew he didn’t want her to change. She knew that others had tried to turn and died. Washington had told her of a circumstance that had left her terrified of the prospect. And also incredibly disappointed to shut that door. Opening it was a last-ditch effort. She knew it was a risk. But Beckham made it seem like a certainty.
“What happens in twenty years, Becks? Forty years? Sixty?” she threw back at him. “What happens when I’m a grandma and you’re still thirty? Sure, I’m fragile, but I’m also dying. I’m dying every single day.”
“That is living, Reyna. That is the way it is supposed to be.”
“You’re not supposed to go on without me,” she whispered harshly.
“Can we make it through the next couple weeks, maybe months before we think about that? You’re twenty-one years old. I’m not sacrificing you.”
“One for a million. Seems fair to me.”
“I won’t entertain this any longer,” Beckham said sharply. “There are other solutions to consider.”
Reyna waited. She knew he would tell her when he was ready. She shivered and licked her wounds. Bringing it up with Beckham again had been stupid. She’d known what his reaction would be, but she couldn’t not say something. It would be a plan Harrington never considered, which made it a valuable one to keep in her back pocket.
“If you’re considering sacrificing yourself as a viable option, then I think we need to train,” Beckham finally said, resigned to the idea.
“Okay. Back to the gym I go.”
“No—we should train with this blood match. I can sense you better than ever before. I could sense you in the city. I can feel you right now. What we need to do is use this to our advantage. Our blood match is something that Harrington doesn’t know about. He can’t anticipate it.”
“That’s true,” she said with a spark of hope.
“We should talk to Washington and get his view on it. He’s the expert,” Beckham said. “Once the snow finally stops, we’ll get to the real work.”
* * *
—
“What you’re asking me is impossible to infer,” Washington said. He looked up from the microscope he’d been peering into. “I’ve only ever seen one other blood match and it was before modern medicine. I have no earthly idea what other abilities you could have. The fact that you have any at all other than compatibility on a molecular level astounds me.”
Beckham’s nostrils flared. Reyna could see him holding in his anger. Washington was being purposefully obtuse.
They already knew that he hadn’t worked with anyone else who was a blood match. But that didn’t mean he didn’t have theories. Washington had theories about everything.
“Hypothesize,” Reyna said quickly.
“I’d need to look at your blood. When my lab was destroyed, I lost everything. I have a backup of the data I was working with, but not the actual samples. That would help me work toward a solution.”
Reyna’s eyes rounded and she gestured for him to continue.
“There are any number of abilities that you could possess working together. Before you I would never have guessed that you could sense each other across large distances. I wouldn’t even begin to consider how that could happen. Perhaps some sort of biological transmission.”
“We don’t need to know how it happens, just what could happen,” Beckham said.
“Knowing how something works is the first step to uncovering life’s greatest mysteries.”
“We’re a bit short on time for life’s greatest mysteries,” Reyna reminded him. “We want to use this as a weapon. Something that will help us take down Harrington. You must have some ideas.”
Washington frowned as if the thought of taking down Harrington repulsed him. He knew that Harrington was bad enough to work against him, but he still had trouble thinking about him dying. It was written all over his face.
“Off the top of my head, I would consider mind reading, emotional shaping, feeling, or projecting, enhanced touch, and sharing of each other’s perceived strengths. The other option is that there are no other added benefits beyond what you have already discovered and you simply need to sharpen that quality. Attune yourselves to the other. I truthfully do not know, but think that stretching your abilities is a worthwhile endeavor.”
Reyna’s mind whirred to life with all that information. She didn’t know how she felt about any of it. Reading Beckham’s mind might be awesome, but did she really want him to be able to read hers? And what the hell did emotional shaping mean? Could he make her feel a different way based on how he felt? And all she could think about were his strengths—enhanced sight, hearing, strength. Those would definitely help them out if she was in a bind.
“We’ll give you the blood samples,” Beckham said as if he had already worked out everything Washington had suggested. “Make Reyna’s quick.”
Reyna blanched. Oh right. The blood donation part.
She had two fears—needles and public speaking. She felt like on a micro level she was overcoming the public speaking. Talking to the group of Elle members was pretty much no sweat. She didn’t know how she would do if she had to address
an audience of strangers, and she didn’t really want to find out.
But needles…
She didn’t think she’d ever overcome that. She’d wanted to vomit that time they’d taken her blood and she was selected to be Beckham’s blood escort. And she’d never gotten over the trauma of Harrington drawing her blood and doping her with vamp venom twice a week for two whole months. She didn’t think that even something as simple as donating her blood to science was about to change how she felt.
Needles gave her the creeps. Plain and simple.
But Beckham held her hand and stroked confident whirls on each pad of her fingers. She ignored the jolt of pain as Washington pierced the vein. She counted backward from a hundred and tried to pretend like she was somewhere else. That sometimes helped. A little.
“I hate this,” she whispered.
Beckham clenched his jaw. “Me too.”
“Why are you so tense?”
His eyes flashed with annoyance. Not at her. But at the fact that she’d noticed.
“Oh,” she whispered. “You haven’t fed enough. You don’t have to be here. You can go.”
“I will not leave you.”
“Beckham, if you are in need of sustenance,” Washington said, “Genevieve brought over some blood packets. I know it is not a preference, but if you warm it up, it will do the trick.”
“I’m fine.”
“I would advise you to go now,” Washington said. Anger tinged his every word as he spoke to Beckham. It was a tone Reyna had never heard from him before. “You are still weak from your healing. Reyna cannot sustain you alone. Nor should she. And you are endangering her by smelling her sweet blood while hunger pangs you.”
Beckham stormed to his feet. “Do not presume to tell me that I am weak. Or speak in any way about my relationship with Reyna.”
“Becks,” she muttered, reaching for his hand and kissing him. “It’s okay. We’re almost done. Go eat and then come back so we can train.”
A muscle twitched in his jaw. She could see him fighting with himself. With the need to protect her and with his mounting hunger.
Then he took one last look into her dark chocolate eyes and left the room.
“Is he going to be okay?” Reyna asked a few minutes later after Washington had completed drawing her blood. “I’ve never seen him so in need of blood. Even when I’ve seen him hungry, he wasn’t like this.”
“Vampire healing takes a significantly less amount of time than human’s. We can endure much more than your bodies can, but it also comes at a higher price. The worse the damage, the more it requires of the body to heal it. The more blood and the more time. If Beckham truly almost died and came back from the brink, a feat few vampires can achieve, then he needs more time. And he needs more blood.”
Reyna’s hand instinctively went to her neck. “He doesn’t like to drink from me.”
Washington sighed. “I understand his concerns. But…convince him. I believe your blood match saved his life, that having your blood in his system helped bring him back. I can’t prove it, but that’s what my gut tells me. And if that’s the case, then your blood may be the key to helping him finally heal completely.”
Reyna nodded. She would convince him.
“There, I’m better,” Beckham snarled as he walked back into the basement laboratory. “Let’s collect a sample and get this over with.”
Reyna exchanged a glance with Washington, who nodded at her.
They needed Beckham at full strength. She would be happy to give him more of her blood if it got him there. Now to figure out how to make that happen.
Chapter 14
The snow fell ceaselessly for the next two days straight. Despite the wonderful reprieve from the real world, Reyna felt restless. It was too cold to go outside or really to venture far from a bed or a fireplace. And Beckham ignored any attempt she made to get him to drink from her again. It was as if he knew what she and Washington had discussed. With his preternatural hearing, he probably did.
“Today is the day,” Beckham said against her skin. He pressed a kiss into her shoulder blade. She yawned and rolled over to face him.
“For what?”
“The snow has finally stopped. The sun is out. We’re leaving this house.”
Beckham slipped out of bed. She tilted her head to the side and admired his naked body. The hard contours of his shoulder blades. The sharp line down his back. The little dimples in his lower back. The rounded, muscular ass. And those incredible legs. Her mouth watered at the sight of him. He was magnificent. Sculpted and hardened. A dark, deadly Adonis.
She sighed as he slid into clothes, watching every inch of skin get covered. “You should walk around naked.”
“I think you would not be the only one ogling as you just did.”
“I wasn’t ogling,” she lied.
“You certainly were. I could sense every single time your eyes touched on me.”
“Oh?” She leaned forward out of bed and pulled him back toward her. She was still naked beneath the covers and his pupils dilated at the sight of her bare breasts. “I can give you more than my eyes if you like.”
He kissed the hollow of her throat. Her eyelids fluttered closed as a fang grazed the delicate artery. “Perhaps after we’ve put some work in.”
He stood again and was out the doorway before she could even cover herself. She humphed noisily and then slid out of bed. She put on every single layer that she had in the bedroom before stuffing her feet in black furry snow boots and trudging downstairs.
Jodie laughed when she saw her. “You look like an Eskimo.”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Good news though! Zoya finally cracked another safe house. So we get to dig them out of the snow once we can dig ourselves out of the snow.”
“That’s excellent!” Reyna said. “Any news from the anti-vamp cult?”
“Drew called this morning. Said Everett is being a pain in the ass and his friends are trying to convert the rest of Elle to their vamp-hating ways, but otherwise all is good.”
Reyna blew out a heavy breath. “Well, just fucking great.”
“Pretty much. The world is a toilet and we’re all getting flushed.”
“I love you.”
Jodie winked. “I know.”
Reyna found Beckham standing on the porch, looking out across the white expanse. She had no clue how she was going to survive this cold. At least Beckham had been right about one thing. The sun was out. Not that it seemed to make it much warmer, but it was better than the cloudy weather and the horrible biting wind that dropped the temperature a good fifteen degrees.
“Ready to go?” he asked.
She nodded. Though she was not looking forward to the cold.
Someone had come out and cleared the driveway so that it wouldn’t completely ice over once they were free of this place. Reyna followed Beckham down the drive until he stopped at another path that someone had tramped through. She frowned but followed him off the road and through the snowbanks. She was still in snow up to her knees for most of the walk. They moved deeper through the woods until she saw a small cottage appear before them.
“What’s that?”
“The original home on the property.”
“Original? Like 1800s original?” she asked with wide eyes. Beckham nodded.
When they reached the tiny cabin, Reyna was surprised to find a fire already lit in the hearth. Beckham must have come out here earlier to build it for her. She smiled brightly up at him and hurried over to it. She was having trouble feeling her toes already.
The cabin had only one room, with marginal furnishings that centered around the hearth and a small bed in the corner. A thin layer of dust coated most everything. Light filtered in from the window at the front of the cabin and another small one by the ma
keshift kitchen area. Some off-white wax candles were burning throughout the room to give it more light. Reyna decided instantly that she loved the place. It was homey and comfortable and felt worlds away from the mansion.
“This is better,” he said, lighting one more candle and setting it down on a rickety old table.
“Seriously, what is this place?”
“Before Washington built his house on the hill, he’d purchased the land from a farmer who lived with his rather large family in this cabin. He allowed them to stay on until they passed away or moved. He wanted it to be his permanent home. Not something most vampires at the time were afforded.”
“Why?”
“The deaths are easier to conceal than in the city.”
Reyna’s stomach roiled. “Right.”
“Genevieve is a descendent of that bloodline. She lived here for many years after her children passed, but now has her own place farther removed from the memories.”
“I couldn’t imagine.”
“I hope you never have to,” he said quietly. “When I would reside on the hill, I would come down here to think sometimes. It freed my mind. I would like it to do so today.”
“Okay. So…how exactly are we going to train? I don’t think this is like running on the treadmill or using a punching bag.”
“I don’t think so either. But when I was turned, I didn’t have all the strength I have now. I developed my abilities. Honed them. It gave me an edge that others had no chance of surpassing as mindless drones. I want to try pushing our own connection in the same way.”
Reyna suddenly bubbled with energy at the prospect. She liked getting more information about Beckham in this process. He wasn’t usually so willing to divulge his secrets.
“Work it like a muscle. Even though it’s not a muscle.”
“Indeed.”
Beckham stripped off his jacket and tossed it across the lone chair. He folded his arms across his broad chest. His eyes were observing her in an all too familiar way. She’d seen him do it a number of times when she’d first started “working” for him. As if she were a puzzle he needed to solve, a question he needed an answer to.
