by K. A. Linde
They exited the hospital in silence. His driver was waiting for them at the guest entrance, and she slid easily into the darkened interior. Her tight skirt rode up her legs when she sat down. She was pulling the material down to attempt to cover herself up as Beckham got into the car. He took one look at her, the fact that ninety percent of her legs were clearly visible, and extracted his phone from his suit pocket.
As soon as the door shut behind them, the car started driving them back into the city. She could feel the irritation radiating off of him. She didn’t know if it was based on the conversation he had walked in on or something else.
“Where did you go?” she asked. Her eyes were locked on him tapping endlessly at that damn phone. Her own phone was tucked away in her purse, unused as usual.
Beckham didn’t say a word.
She sighed. Was he back to silence?
“I can’t believe what Everett’s friends were saying,” she whispered. She slumped back in her seat, wondering if she could get a reaction from him. The only thing he had seemed to notice were her exposed legs, but she wasn’t about to stoop to taking her clothes off for him to pay attention. “Does everyone think I’m a whore and a blood bag, like they do?”
Not one word. He didn’t even raise his head to acknowledge that she was talking. She thought about throwing her hand in between him and the damn phone, but she was worried about the consequences of her actions.
“Are you going to just keep ignoring me?”
Beckham blew out an exasperated breath. “Will you shut up if I do?”
“No,” she admitted.
Beckham shot her a dirty look and returned to whatever he was working on. He didn’t seem to be in a talkative mood. Who was she kidding? He was never in a talkative mood.
“What do you think of me? I’m clearly not your blood bag.”
He closed his eyes for a second before responding. “Prejudices run deep between our people. No one thinks kindly of anyone, because no one is kind to anyone else. One act will change no one’s opinion. You should just ignore what people think of you. You are the only one who knows whether or not it is true.”
Reyna stared at him for a long time after that. It was very insightful coming from a vampire who had just saved a human’s life. It proved over and over again that Beckham was not the bad person he wanted everyone, including her, to believe.
“You know it’s been a week and a half, Becks.”
“Have you been here irritating me for only that long? You make it seem like a lifetime, Little One.”
“I obviously can’t hang out with those people who hate me anymore. I can’t stay locked in your apartment. I think I need to do something. Anything,” she breathed.
Beckham huffed loudly. “Then use the credit card and go shopping. Buy a mountain of clothes to fill your closet. Make friends with other employees, who understand what you are doing and won’t judge you for it. Just do something that befits your new station in life.”
“My new station?” she asked incredulously.
“Yes, Reyna! I’m not sure what part of this you’re missing. You have more money than your wildest dreams could ever have imagined. Use some of it.”
Thinking of herself as wealthy, because she happened to work for Beckham and live in his penthouse, made her feel ludicrous. The only benefit of living with him was that the compensation she did receive for the job she wasn’t performing she funneled right back to her brothers. At least them receiving the money made it all worth it.
“And you want me to go shopping on the black credit card? The unlimited credit card?”
“It’s unlimited for a reason,” he said dryly.
“You know I have more clothes than I could ever want in my closet, and absolutely nothing comfortable to wear.”
Beckham slapped his phone down in his lap and glared at her. “I am trying to work. What do you want from me, Reyna?”
Well, that was a loaded question if she had ever heard one. The list of things she wanted from him that she couldn’t possibly utter grew daily. Her eyes unconsciously dropped down to his lips and then back into those endlessly dark eyes. He clenched his jaw.
Yeah. Out of the question.
“I just need to do something. Maybe get a job?”
“No,” he said, shaking his head.
“What? Why?”
“You have a job already.”
Reyna laughed in his face. “Right now I’m getting paid to sit around in your penthouse all day and deal with your attitude and obsession with your cellphone. That’s not a job. I can’t live cooped up with you with nothing to do. I’m restless.”
“Everyone else would die for the opportunity I’m providing. Why must you be so difficult?”
“I’m obviously not everyone else.”
“Obviously.”
She sighed and felt the space between them heavily. “I didn’t bargain for never leaving or doing anything or seeing my brothers!”
Beckham shook his head incredulously. “Do you not understand the danger? Did last night reveal nothing to you?”
She lifted her chin. She knew he was talking about the attack, but all she could think about was the feel of his lips on hers. As she fell asleep last night, she had replayed that moment over and over again in her mind. She had been even more restless afterward. One taste was not enough. Could never be enough.
“Last night simply showed me what I already knew. Some people are good and some are bad. Some vampires are bad and some…” Reyna reached out and touched his hand across the car. “Some are good.”
Beckham pulled his hand back as if he had been burned. “That’s where you’re wrong. Everyone is bad. You just don’t know it yet.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“Then allow me to give you perspective.”
Beckham leaned forward and spoke softly to the driver. The car swung around. She sat up curiously, wondering where he was taking her. The longer they drove, the worse the neighborhoods got in the city. The area where Beckham lived had seemed better than where she lived at home…safe almost. The streets were clear and people walked to and from buildings during the day with their heads up as if they knew that no one would bother them.
Here…that was not the case.
The streets were filthy. Covered with debris and garbage and even sewage in some places. Graffiti was spray-painted across the brick walls in various colors and schemes. A cursive L in a circle was repeated over and over again. People huddled together in ragged clothing that seemed haphazardly thrown together in an attempt to cover them. The few people who walked the streets were hunched over, holding their sparse belongings, as if it were life or death. Beggars were on every corner. Though there was no one to beg from. They were all wasting away—stomachs sunk in, ribs protruding, teeth missing. There were no children playing on the sidewalks. There was just grime and more grime.
She had thought that the warehouses had been bad. At least the people there had suitable jobs albeit with horrible hours. All she saw here was despair.
“Hey, baby, want something nice,” a girl called from the street.
Reyna saw three young girls wearing scantily clad outfits, their necks were raw, and they did nothing to hide the fact. They couldn’t have been older than her. Some of them didn’t even look fully grown.
“What the…”
“Those are blood whores, Reyna,” he said. “They’re addicted to the rush. Prostitute their blood and their bodies for the fix.”
Reyna looked up at him, horrified. She was certainly not anything like those women. How could anyone call her a blood whore just because she worked for Visage?
A fight broke out in front of their car. Two people clawed at each other’s faces.
“Don’t stop,” Beckham told his driver.
“What? Do you mean to
run them over?” she snapped.
“If we stop, they will attack the car. It is dangerous to be in these parts…even for me. I cannot overthrow a mob, and my first priority is your safety.”
Her breath caught at the conviction in his words. It was in that moment that there was no pretense behind Beckham. He was taking control of a situation. Maybe he hadn’t even realized what he had said.
The driver started to pull around the fighting pair, when three more people moved into the streets. “Shit!” he growled. “Move.”
He revved the engine, forcing the people out of his way, but one caught Reyna’s door handle and held on. Reyna screamed and lurched toward Beckham. He wrapped an arm protectively around her shoulder and drew her close to him.
“Let me in, bloodsucker. I know you’re in there. You hoard your riches and leave us out here to starve!” the man yelled.
The driver took a sharp turn and the guy lost his grip, flew off of the car, and then rolled two or three times. She heard his screams and turned in her seat to see a rogue vampire feasting on him. No one moved to help him. No one moved to stop him.
She tore her eyes away from what was happening on the street behind her and buried her head in Beckham’s shoulder. “Oh my God,” she whispered, her body shaking from horror.
His hand trailed lightly up and down her arm until her fear subsided. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I just wanted to show you. The good isn’t out there, Reyna. Everyone is corrupt. Everyone is broken.”
“I’m not,” she whispered.
“Oh Little One, this world will kill the goodness left within your beating heart.”
“But it will not break me.”
“No,” he agreed. He leaned his head into her hair and drew a deep breath. “I will do that.”
Chapter 16
Reyna was ripped out of her dreams by a nightmare of a vampire chasing her in the streets and tearing out her throat. She screamed and bolted upright in bed. Her hair stuck to her back. Her body was clammy. And she couldn’t seem to rid herself of the terrible sense of unease.
She was fine.
She was in Beckham’s penthouse.
It had been days since their visit to the dregs of the city. Days since she had been attacked by a vampire.
Nothing had happened. Nothing at all since then. But she couldn’t seem to shake the nightmares.
She hoped Beckham didn’t hear her. She didn’t want to bring it up to him. Not after the distance he had put between them. She had felt so safe and secure in his arms, even knowing he was a vampire and could easily do to her what she had just seen in the streets. But as soon as he had let her go, it was as if he had constructed a wall of impenetrable ice to keep her out.
So much effort went into it on his part that she had given up on trying to get through to him. He wanted her to be grateful for her position, and she was. But she still hoped for him…and hope was dangerous.
Rolling out of bed, she hopped into the shower to wash off the sweat. She draped a towel around her body and towel-dried her hair in the mirror. She wound her hair up in a knot on the top of her head and then went in search of something to wear. As soon as she entered her closet, she noticed a blood-red dress hanging by itself. She stopped in her tracks and glanced around. She hated when things just appeared in her room. It didn’t usually mean anything good.
She moved over to the dress and skimmed the silky material between her fingers. It was gorgeous and soft…and still so not her. A note was attached to the hanger and she snatched it up in her hand.
Today.
That was all it said. No further instruction. She sighed, knowing what the word meant, and pulled it on. The dress had a strapless sweetheart neck with a tight satin bow around the waist of the silky top. The skirt was tulle to her knees and made her feel like a ballerina. Though she was hardly graceful and hadn’t actually seen a ballerina since before her life had turned to shit.
After securing the dress at the back, she turned to exit her room, but found something else that hadn’t been there the night before. On her nightstand was a large blue box. She hurried over to it and procured the card.
Perspective.
She narrowed her eyes, undid the ribbon, and took the lid off of the box. Inside was a sleek black camera with a large lens and a thick strap. She removed the camera reverently. Her parents had had one when she was a kid, but she didn’t know exactly how this one worked. It took a couple of minutes of fiddling around with the buttons before it turned on. The screen lit up, but didn’t show her what was she looking at. Pressing her eyes to the small square at the top, she pointed it in the direction of her closet and pressed down hard on the button at the top. The camera clicked and whirred, and when she looked down, an image of her closet appeared in perfect clarity.
Her mouth hung open. It was…amazing!
“Perspective, huh?” she mused.
She pressed it against her chest and rushed into the next room.
“A camera!” she said excitedly when she saw Beckham seated at a barstool in the kitchen, staring down at his blasted phone.
He glanced at her once, scrutinizing her appearance. She stilled under that molten gaze. “And here I thought you’d complain about the dress.”
“Oh well, this isn’t the worst thing you’ve dressed me up in,” she retorted. Her cheeks were pink from his assessment, but she was too giddy to think about the hot and cold. “But a camera, Becks!”
He shrugged as if it meant nothing to him. “You said you wanted a hobby.”
“It’s amazing,” she breathed.
Before she could think twice, she threw her arms around his neck. He stiffened beneath her and she quickly released him. But she didn’t apologize. She was too excited to care.
“Can I go shooting now? What will I take pictures of?” she asked.
“I presume whatever you want.”
“Well, I should get going.”
“Wait,” he snapped, reaching out and grasping her hand to keep from her darting away. “We should set ground rules.”
“Does everything come with rules?” she groaned.
“Yes.”
“Fine. What are they? Let’s get this over with.”
He gave her a stern look, but she just smiled. “It’s very simple. If you leave here to take pictures, you may go wherever you please as long as you take my car and have a security guard with you.”
Reyna’s mouth dropped open. “You think I need a bodyguard?”
He ignored her question entirely. “If the security guard believes you to be in danger in any way, he has express permission to remove you from the situation.”
“Anything else?” She understood that she needed to be safe, but he could have at least made it seem less like she was going to have all her moves watched at all times.
“What do you plan to do with the photos?” he asked carefully.
“I don’t know. I just got the damn thing.” She shrugged. “Look at them? Is there a way I can put them on the computer?”
“Yes,” he said hesitantly.
“Then probably that.”
“This is important, Reyna. I don’t want your photographs to show up anywhere with your name on it. If you want to post them somewhere, they need to be anonymous. No one needs to know it’s you or that I’m letting you do this.”
“Why does it even matter?” she asked, her curiosity piquing.
“Because I said so. Haven’t you ever heard a picture is worth a thousand words? I don’t want any of those words connected to you.”
“Or you,” she reasoned.
“Do you agree?”
“Yes,” she said automatically. If she didn’t, then he’d never let her leave again. Plus, who would care about her images? She didn’t even know if she would care about them. They could totally
suck.
“Good,” he said. His shoulders relaxed as he seemed to have gotten through the difficult part of the conversation. “Also, you have a shopping date with Sophie.”
Reyna’s face fell. He gave her freedom and a ball and chain at the exact same time.
“Do I have to?” she asked, feeling like a child.
“Yes,” he said, already turning back to his phone. “Visage is throwing a celebratory ball for the passage of the Blood Census. I have to be in attendance, which means you have to be in attendance.”
“A ball?” Her ears perked up at that prospect. A ball with Beckham. Now, that could be interesting.
“Find something suitable to wear and put it on the credit card. I don’t care the cost. Whatever you want,” he muttered into his phone.
“All right.” She hugged her camera to her chest. “When am I meeting her?”
“Noon.” He looked back up at her. His eyes remained fixed on her face. God, if she only had a penny for his thoughts. “Be careful around her, Reyna. She is a wolf in sheep’s clothing.”
“Then why do I have to meet her?” she asked, exasperated. The politics behind this was all so confusing. She didn’t want to spend time with people she had to guard herself against.
“You said you wanted friends.” He arched his eyebrow just waiting for her to question him.
“Yeah…friends. People I meet who I have common interests with. Not a girl who also happens to be a permanent Visage employee.”
“What? Like the people from the hospital? Your life has completely changed and the sooner you realize that, the easier this will all be for you.”
Her eyes drifted to his mouth again unconsciously. “What about you?”
“What about me, Reyna?”
“Your life has changed. The sooner you realize that, the easier it will be for both of us,” she whispered boldly.
He watched her eyes travel slowly back up to his and she knew he felt something underneath all that bravado. But he didn’t budge an inch. He just shook his head. “The driver will be here within the hour.”