Page 38 of The Monster and the Last Blood Match

“What’s the fun in that?”

“Who?” Reyna asked.

“Her,” Mara said, turning Reyna’s head until she found the woman in the center of the room. She was blond, with her hair pulled over to one shoulder. Her clothes were skintight and revealing, her lips bloodred, and she was so thin, her collarbones protruded.

“What about her?”

“Can’t you tell?” Mara asked. “She works for Visage.”

Reyna swallowed and reassessed the woman. “How do you know that?”

“Look at the bite marks on her neck,” Brianna said.

“It’s really sad,” Mara said. “Girls like her have no options. No choices.”

“I mean, they chose Visage,” Reyna argued.

“Sure, but no one is choosing to be a blood escort if they can find other work,” Coop argued.

“And if they can’t find other work?” Reyna asked, wishing her own neck was covered, even though Becks hadn’t fed on her. She still felt like her neck was on display tonight, like everyone knew.

Everett reached down and squeezed her hand as if he could feel her spike of anxiety. “I said no politics tonight. Come on.”

“Look, the Visage employees need help,” Brianna said. “Their blood shouldn’t be up for grabs. It’s sick.”

“They need more than help. We need to end Visage,” Mara argued.

“Mara,” Everett said on another sigh. “Can we not tonight?”

“No one is going to stop working for them when it gets you high,” Coop said.

“What?” Reyna asked, her head snapping to him.

“It does not,” Brianna cried, smacking him on the back of the head.

Mara rolled her eyes. “Technically, it kicks your adrenaline into overdrive. Like a flight-or-fight response. So endorphins flood your system to try to counteract it. Kind of like sex.”

“Enough anti-Visage, anti-vampire, anti–blood escort talk tonight. Some of us make our living working for them, and that’s how it is,” Everett said, gesturing to himself. But Reyna’s cheeks still flamed. Everett took her hand and pulled her out of the booth. “Let’s dance.”

“That was enlightening,” Reyna said as he pulled her onto the dance floor.

“You should ignore them. They’re always spouting about social justice.”

“Well, they’re not wrong. A lot of people would choose something else if they could.” Reyna shrugged as she wrapped her arms around Everett’s neck and leaned into his chest to quiet her racing heartbeat. “God knows, I tried.”

“They’re not right, either. The world is fucking terrible. We make money where we can. You chose your job just like I did. Nothing wrong with that.” He sighed. “Mara likes to get under people’s skin.”

“But she doesn’t even know.”

He sighed. “I’m sure she suspects.”

“Why?” She didn’t even have bite marks.

“Come on, Reyna. There’s no one who works at my building who looks like you.”

The music shifted to a slow, hypnotic beat, and their movements adjusted with the rhythm. His hands gripped her hips, pulling her closer against him.

She narrowed her eyes. “What does that mean?”

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