Page 105 of The Monster and the Last Blood Match

Until now, Roland had remained silent, but Reyna felt his gaze on her. She refused to make eye contact with him. She would not give in to his ruthless and ridiculous behavior.

“At least Reyna wasn’t harmed,” Roland spoke up finally.

“Yes. Luckily, we were outside before the fires began,” Beckham said, staring Roland down hard.

“I wouldn’t exactly say she wasn’t harmed,” Cassandra singsonged. She sniffed and turned her nose up. “She looks as if she has rolled around in the dirt, and honestly, what is that outfit?”

“We were in the midst of the crowd at city hall,” Beckham said as explanation.

Reyna should have known someone would say something about her state of dress. They were so bent on dressing their Permanent subjects up like dolls. The whole thing sat with her wrong. At least Beckham didn’t try to justify anything. He gave a reason for her state of dress and nothing more.

“So, you did make it,” Roland said, seemingly pleased with himself.

Beckham didn’t bat an eyelash. “That was a brilliant performance out there. It’s nice to know we’re finally getting somewhere with the government.”

Reyna reined in her frustration. This was politics, but it was the opposite of how she felt about the situation. Granted, she didn’t know how Beckham felt about the whole thing. She couldn’t believe that he would be okay with it all. He hadn’tseemedokay with it, anyway.

“I told you he would think so,” Harrington said to Roland.

“Why wouldn’t I?” Beckham asked. “It’s exactly what we wanted. Glad the fires made it so you could push it through.”

“Indeed,” Harrington said. “Unfortunately, we have some unpleasant news to discuss now that you’re here.”

“What unpleasant news?”

“I knew you were busy with Penelope this weekend, which is why we didn’t include you in the discussions ahead of time, but you should know, Beckham, I trust you implicitly,” Harrington said.

Beckham tensed. “As you should.”

“However,” Harrington said, “we cannot overlook Reyna.”

“Me?” she asked, confused.

Beckham gave her a fierce look, and she clamped her mouth shut.

“What unpleasantness is there regarding Reyna?”

“Show him,” Harrington directed.

Roland reached down and retrieved a large black camera out of a bag. “Can you explain this?”

“That’s my camera,” she said. She couldn’t help herself. How had he gotten her camera?

“Well, there’s her admission,” Roland drawled.

“Admission?” she asked. “Admission to what?”

Beckham placed his hand on her arm. “For what, exactly? What is she being accused of?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Roland asked. He stood smoothly from his chair and walked around the desk. He still held the camera in his hand. “She’s part of Elle.”

“What?” she asked.

They thought she was a rebel.

When was the last time she’d had her camera? It had been a tumultuous weekend, to say the least, and she hadn’t had time to work with her images since…the rooftop? No, the park.

Oh, Roland had filched the camera from her when they had left the restaurant for lunch. That was the only explanation. She was certain that she had removed all the images from her camera that were on her website. Nothing on there should have connected them to her or incriminated her.

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