by K. A. Linde
Beckham was…gone.
Not gone. Dead.
She choked on the word in her mind. Flinched from the harsh impossible reality.
She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t think. She couldn’t possibly process any of this. Beckham was infallible. He was a giant among men—enormous in size and personality. He took over every room he entered. He was larger than life in every sense of the words. There was never a day that she feared for his life in the way that he had always feared so strongly for hers. Nothing could stop him. Nothing and no one could take him down.
Until now.
How had she lived all this time and never considered his possible end? She’d considered hers enough times. She had thought of any number of ways in which she would die. She had even been okay with it tonight. She’d held the gun to her head determined to do what must be done. But not Beckham. Never Beckham.
The gun now hung limp at her side. A useless piece of equipment. It hadn’t saved her. It hadn’t saved Beckham.
She might as well use it Romeo-and-Juliet style, for she couldn’t imagine how she could go on living without Beckham in her life. Without him, it was no life at all.
Yet her hands trembled. She didn’t have the strength to lift the gun. Let alone to shoot it. Everything had just fallen to shit. It was over. It was all over.
She barely registered the fact that Penelope had fallen to her knees at Beckham’s side. That she was screaming at Harrington. Something about a deal. About this not being part of the deal.
Reyna watched as she cradled Beckham’s head in her lap. Tears ran down her beautiful face. She held him like a lover. Like someone who could possibly understand the anguish coursing through her.
But Beckham had never loved Penelope. How could he love a cold heartless bitch like Penelope? If she hadn’t sold them out, then none of this would have happened. Beckham wouldn’t be dead.
This was her fault.
Reyna remembered how to move her feet. She ignored Harrington completely. He was nothing to her anymore. Consequences no longer mattered. Harrington would get his due next.
She walked right up to Penelope where she kneeled in the cold. How could someone so beautiful do such horrible things? How could she so freely give up her soul to the devil?
Reyna had fought and fought and fought. Even at the risk of losing everything she had still told Harrington no. She had still done the right thing. When all odds were turned against her, she had stuck it out. She had endured. She had fucking persisted.
Penelope lost one thing. One thing in her entitled, pretentious, sheltered life and she’d crumbled. And worse, she had lost something that didn’t even belong to her.
Reyna’s fist tangled in Penelope’s dark hair.
Dark hair.
Reyna hated it.
That they had the same color hair.
That Beckham had preferred brunettes.
“What are you doing?” Penelope shrieked, as Reyna wrenched her head backward.
Reyna raised the gun and pressed it against Penelope’s head. Penny was shaking like a leaf. Terrified despite her now superior strength and speed. She hadn’t quite gotten used to her new reflexes and she was in shock…in her own way.
“This is your fault,” Reyna snarled.
“Reyna, please,” Penelope cried. Tears ran in rivulets down her face. “Please, I didn’t know! I would never have done anything to harm Beckham. Please, please, please.”
“Reyna, allow Penelope her time to grieve,” Harrington said as if he were consoling a child having a tantrum instead of a woman who had just lost the love of her life.
“You are a coward,” Reyna spat in Penelope’s face.
Then she moved the gun and shot Penelope in the heart. The jealous empty vessel that had ruined everything.
Penelope flew backward, blood seeping from the wound. She screamed in pain and shock and revulsion. It wouldn’t kill her. Reyna knew that. But it would keep her ass on the ground and get her the fuck away from Beckham.
Harrington was laughing in the distance, but Reyna had already fallen to her knees. She had to hold Beckham. She had to fix this. He couldn’t be dead. Beckham would never leave her. Never.
She could save him. She could bring him back. She was his soul mate. She hadn’t even gotten to tell him that she was his blood match, his once-in-a-lifetime, his soul mate. If their blood was perfectly matched, then maybe it could work a miracle.
Reyna did the only thing that she could think of. She opened his mouth and used one of his sharp fangs to open up her wrist. She vaguely heard a hiss and a sharp inhale. She was sure the sweet smell of her blood was permeating the air, but she didn’t care. She couldn’t care.
Harrington put his hand on her arm, and she swatted him away. “Don’t touch me,” she snarled.
“You’re only harming yourself and wasting precious blood. Beckham isn’t coming back. No matter what you do.”
She ignored his words. And forced the blood out of her veins and into his mouth. The pain was nothing to what the pain of losing Beckham would be if this didn’t work.
“Enough,” Harrington barked.
This was her only hope. She had nothing left to give. She sank forward, resting her forehead on his chest. Tears wouldn’t come. Just exhaustion and numbness. She wanted to lie down beside him in the cold and never wake up again. But she couldn’t give up.
There would never be another Beckham Anderson.
“Come on, Becks,” she screamed, shaking his body. “Please. You can’t do this to me. You can’t leave me!”
But nothing happened.
Her blood, while unique and very, very rare, wasn’t anything special. It didn’t have magical healing properties. Their blood match wasn’t saving him. Her chest was a black hole where her heart had been.
“Fix him!” she screamed at Harrington.
“He can’t be fixed, Reyna.”
“How could you do this?” she demanded. But her eyes were on Beckham as she tried to rouse him. As she tried to do anything to save him.
Harrington was wrong. What did he know? He was a monster. A villain. A sadistic vampire who had tried to take away the best thing in her life. He’d played the game like a chessboard, and she’d walked right into his trap.
But he couldn’t take Beckham.
Her once-in-a-lifetime.
Blood match.
Soul mate.
If her soul mate was dead, there would be hell to pay.
To Buffy the Vampire Slayer,
For beginning my love of vampires.
Acknowledgments
So many incredible people went into the making of this book. First and foremost, I have to thank my crew who has been with me from the beginning of this series: Anjee Sapp, Sharon Goodman, Katie Miller, Rebecca Kimmerling, Amy McAvoy, and Christy Peckham. You all rock! Thanks for putting up with a three year gap between book one and book two. I know…I’m the devil. To my early readers and helpful plotters—Diana Peterfreund, Lori Francis, and Staci Hart. I could not have gotten through this book without you!
To my wonderful agent, Kimberly Brower. Thank you championing this series, fighting for Beckham, cheering for Reyna, and being generally all around awesome. My incredible publicist, Danielle Sanchez, who helps get this book into as many hands as possible, and fell hard for Becks and Reyna. To the team at Loveswept, Junessa Viloria, Madeleine Kenney, and Matthew Burnett, thank you for taking a chance on this new paranormal adventure and making them the best books that they can be. To all the new bloggers who have found me through this series and all the recurring ones who tried out my vampires, thank you for your support!
To all the authors who have read and loved this book and left me blurbs—I cannot thank you enough for your enthusiasm. Corinne Michaels, Kendall Ryan, Rachel van Dyken, Carrie Ann Ryan, Sus
an Stoker, Rebecca Yarros, Kristin Cast, Erin Noelle, Mari Mancusi, SL Jennings, Meghan March, Emma Hart, SC Stephens, and Jessica Prince.
As always, my husband, Joel, and our two puppies, Riker and Lucy. I would be even more insane without you.
Of course to all my incredible readers for falling in love with Reyna and Beckham. I’m sorry about the ending…sort of. I expect your urgent emails henceforth. Remember, I love you and I’m a horrible hand holder. *big hugs*
BY K. A. LINDE
Blood Type
Blood Type
Blood Match
Avoiding
Avoiding Commitment
Avoiding Responsibility
Avoiding Intimacy
Avoiding Decisions
Avoiding Temptation
Record
Off the Record
On the Record
For the Record
Struck from the Record
All That Glitters
Diamonds
Gold
Emeralds
Platinum
Silver
Take Me
Take Me for Granted
Take Me with You
Wright
The Wright Brother
The Wright Boss
The Wright Mistake
The Wright Secret
The Wright Love
The Wright One
Following Me
Ascension
The Affiliate
The Bound
The Consort
PHOTO: LAUREN PERRY
K. A. LINDE is the USA Today bestselling author of the Avoiding series and more than twenty other novels. She grew up as a military brat and attended the University of Georgia, where she obtained a master’s in political science. She works full-time as an author and loves Disney movies, binge-watching Supernatural and Buffy the Vampire Slayer, and dancing. She currently lives in Lubbock, Texas, with her husband and two super-adorable puppies.
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