Blood Type (Page 60)

When he pulled back, he inspected the cut on her forehead. “It’s minor. Hold this to it.” He offered her a handkerchief, because of course he had one, and she held it to her head.

“You found me,” she breathed.

“I’ll always find you.” He kissed the top of her head, and then reached down for her hand. “Let’s get out of here. I don’t want another close encounter.”

Beckham tightened his grip on her hand and then shouldered his way through the crowd. It took forever before they finally reached a city block that had thinned out. By then she had a headache. Her clothes were rumpled and one of her sleeves was torn. Nothing she could do about that right now.

“This way,” Beckham said, directing them back toward the center of the city.

“How did you find me?”

“I could smell you,” he told her. “Your blood.”

“Oh.”

She removed the handkerchief and stared down at her own dried blood. The cut had stopped bleeding already. It had been small to begin with, but still that vampire had been able to smell her. Beckham had been able to smell her.

“Here.” She offered the handkerchief back to Beckham.

He frowned, taking the handkerchief from her. “We should burn that.”

“Burn it?” she asked in confusion. “Beckham, what is going on? That woman had the same reaction to my blood the vampire had outside of the club, but you claimed it didn’t smell any different. Does it?”

Beckham was silent for a few more blocks. She was starting to wonder if he was going to answer. This was the treatment she was used to having from him after all. She had known it was too good to be true for him to start telling her everything like he had promised. He was used to his secrets. Perhaps he had too many to divulge them all.

“Yes,” he finally said. “Your blood smells…I don’t know. It’s hard to describe. Sweet. But not sweet. Powerful and enticing. It draws you in.”

“So, I smell like a steak?”

Beckham laughed the most beautiful laugh. “I suppose you do, but a hundred times more desirable.”

“Is that…uncommon? I mean, doesn’t other blood smell good? I don’t think all our food smells the same. I really don’t know how any of this works.”

“It does all smell different. Some is more or less potent. If it’s tainted by drugs, alcohol, disease, death…each has its own smell, besides the human pheromones attached to it. But you…” His eyes cut over to her and she saw hunger written all through them. “You have the most amazing smell in the world. It’s alluring and hypnotic. Which is exactly why we need to burn this handkerchief and get you cleaned up. I don’t want anyone else to smell you. If they smell you, they will want to taste you.”

“But not you?” she asked, thinking of all the times he had smelled her blood and not been tempted.

He inhaled deeply. “I couldn’t imagine what you taste like.”

Reyna tried to hide her smile, but failed. “You could…if you wanted.”

“Don’t dangle temptations in front of me, Reyna. I have very little control.”

She snorted. “I disagree.”

“I lost count of the number of lives I took because I lost control or didn’t want to stop.”

“I think those two things are really different,” she told him. “Before the cure…you didn’t want to stop. That was the animal in you. Now you have control in spades, I might add, and you wouldn’t do it again. I’d bet you haven’t done it since the cure.”

He shrugged. “I don’t like to take chances. It’s easier.”

“Well, you’re taking a chance with me, and I trust that you won’t lose control.”

He didn’t respond, but he didn’t have to. She wasn’t frightened, because she knew he wouldn’t hurt her. He was doing everything he could to protect her at this point. If he ever drank from her, she was sure he would find this control he claimed to lack.

She was totally lost when Beckham stopped in front of a boarded-up store on a random street corner.

“Come in here.”

“In where?” she asked, sizing up the building.

He opened a black gate and gestured her inside. They went up a flight of stairs and into an empty one-bedroom apartment. The only objects inside were a mattress on the floor and a safe in the corner. Beckham pushed Reyna toward the bathroom while he found a lighter in one of the kitchen drawers. He lit the handkerchief on fire and then threw it in a metal trash can on the floor.

Reyna just stood there, wide-eyed, wondering if he’d done something like this before. He was so precise. “What is this place?”

He shrugged. “Safe house.”

“Safe for who?”

“Right now, you.” He rummaged through the medicine cabinet over the toilet.

Finding what he was looking for, he tilted her chin up so she’d look at him. She stared into those bottomless onyx eyes, lost to his touch. How gentle he was when he swabbed the cut clean, how precise he was in all of his movements, how much he cared for her pain and discomfort.

When he finished, his eyes found Reyna’s. They locked on each other for a split second, understanding passing between them. This was the real Beckham Anderson. This man was hers.

It took all of five minutes from the time they busted into the safe house to when they were back on the streets, but everything had changed.

* * *

—

A short cab ride later, Reyna and Beckham were standing in front of the enormous skyscraper for the Visage Incorporated headquarters. They hurried past the polished floors, people clad in pressed suits, and the crazy body scanners at a fast clip. This place was terrifying in and of itself, but add in the fact that she was about to meet with the most powerful vampire in the company, and it made it all the scarier. But she kept her chin up and stuck close to Beckham.

“What exactly are we walking into?” Reyna asked once they were safely out of earshot.

“Well, I have to find out why I wasn’t informed of everything going on. In particular, I want to set Rowland straight about goading me. He knew what this was about and he knew what the crowd would look like.”

“I don’t understand what his motives are. Aren’t you working toward the same goal for the company?”

She despised Rowland, but she didn’t think he was an idiot. Cassandra was crazy, but Rowland was cunning. He had planned for Penelope to show up that night of the fires in the hopes of getting Reyna alone. And he had planned for Beckham to get caught up in the crowd today. There was more to the big picture than what they were glimpsing.

“Obviously, this is personal. He’s upset because I got the better of him in the club…and probably because you turned him down, if I had to guess.”

They stepped into the elevators and the doors closed behind them.

“Well, he was out of line and deserved everything that happened to him.”

Beckham turned toward Reyna and cupped her cheeks in his hands. “You know I agree with you, but you’re going to have to stay very tightly coiled through all of this. You can’t react to anything. He’s made it personal, but you have to stay professional even when you don’t want to. He will be expecting you to act out.”

“Becks, we just need to get everything out in the open so we can move forward.”