Page 112 of The Monster and the Last Blood Match

Reyna woke up in a daze. When she reached out, all she felt was some kind of scratchy surface. She opened her eyes and groaned as she hoisted herself into a sitting position. She stared around at her surroundings. It was dark outside, so she couldn’t make out much in the room, but she was on a couch in a very strange place. Definitely not Beckham’s penthouse.

She placed her head in her hands and tried to remember what the hell had happened. Everything was fuzzy, and she struggled to recall anything. Or where the hell she was.

“You’re awake,” Everett said, walking into the room.

She glanced up at him and sighed. At least she was in a safe place. “What happened?”

“I hoped you’d tell me.”

Reyna shook her head. “I don’t know. Why am I here?”

Everett frowned. “You came out of the apartment building high as a kite from a vampire bite, with blood running down your neck. I stanched the blood and put a bandage on for you after you passed out.”

She gasped and touched the bandage on her neck. Everything slowly came back to her. The rally, the accusation at Visage, Beckham admitting he was a rebel and that he had used Penelope as a cover story, sex, the bite—

The bite.

“He bit me,” she whispered.

“I gathered that much.”

“He lost control when we were—” She stopped that sentence and flushed. Sex with Beckham had been incredible. Just thinking about it made her heat up at the remembered feeling of his body on hers.

“Right,” Everett said, looking away. “Doesn’t he do that all the time? Isn’t that your job, after all? I always thought it was supposed to be safe and controlled for Visage employees.”

Reyna stared down at the beige carpet and sighed. “That was the first time.”

“Doing what? Having sex?” he asked.

She shook her head. “No. Well, yes. That, too. But it was the first time he bit me.” She laughed humorlessly. “I guess technically the second time.”

“You’ve been here for a month.”

“I know.”

“What the hell have you been doing?”

She shrugged. “Nothing. Today was the first day.”

She felt weird telling him this. She hadn’t told anyone but her brothers that Beckham hadn’t ever drank from her. It felt like a secret he liked to keep hidden, so she didn’t flaunt it. She had assumed he was drinking from Penelope this whole time, and he probably had been, to quell his cravings. That was probably why he’d bitten her at the Vault in the first place.

“Why wouldn’t he drink from you? You’re the same blood type, right?”

“Yeah,” she agreed. “O negative. I guess he was afraid something like this would happen.”

She gestured to her neck, and waves of remorse washed over her. She shouldn’t have run out like that. It had been as if she couldn’t help it. Her first instinct had been to run, and that was exactly what she had done.

“Did he come after me, by any chance?” she asked softly.

Everett shrugged. “I don’t know. We left as soon as you came downstairs.”

“He’s probably beating himself up right now.”

Fuck, the elevator. She was just remembering what had happened. Had she called him a monster? How could she do that? He wasn’t a monster. She needed to make this right. She stood on wobbly legs. She was feeling better after sleeping for however long she had been out, but she needed to get back to Beckham now.

“He probably should be.”

“No,” she disagreed. “I trusted him to not go further, and I told him I trusted him. But he had trouble stopping. He told me ahead of time that my blood smelled too good. That’s what the vampire we met in the alley said, too.”

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