Page 40 of The Monster and the Last Blood Match

Once he reached her, he swatted her across the face like an annoying fly. The force of the hit sent her careening headfirst into the metal dumpster. She rebounded, falling in a heap into a pile of discarded trash bags. Her vision blurred, and when she touched the source of the pain, a hot, sticky wetness coated her hair.

The vampire stooped to pick Everett back up and finish what he’d started. But once she pulled back her hand to find it covered in bright-red blood, the vampire’s head whipped around. His stare promised death. She struggled to stand back up but collapsed back to the ground. She was disoriented and couldn’t get her limbs under control. The vampire coming toward her had only one thing in mind, and still she could do nothing.

“What do we have here? Your blood produces the sweetest aroma.” As he stalked toward her, Everett’s blood dribbled down his chin. “Tasting you will be like drinking the nectar of the gods, if I believed they existed.”

“Wha-what?” she stammered.

“I’ve heard of blood like this.” He leaned down and breathed in deeply, savoring the scent of her like a rose in bloom. “It seems my fortunes have turned.”

“I’m nothing,” she pleaded, tears running down her face. “You’ve had your fill. Just let us go.”

“I don’t think so.”

The vampire leaned toward her, enjoying the terror in her expression. Everett’s blood had given him life, but she could see in his crazed eyes that he was going to take her for pleasure. She shuddered as he ran his hand down her cheek and tilted her head to expose her neck. And there was nothing she could do about it. She couldn’t even scream. She closed her eyes and said a prayer to whomever would listen.

But the bite never came.

Then the pressure on her neck disappeared. Reyna’s eyes flew open. And she couldn’t believe what she saw. Her eyes widened in disbelief as Beckham held the vampire by the arm. The other vampire snarled and twisted, breaking out of Beckham’s tight hold. He lunged for Beckham, who moved so quickly that the pair of them was a blur. The vampire must have been starving, because with fresh blood in his system he had more power and speed than he’d shown only moments before. The two moved together. Beckham seemed to have the upper hand. His broke down the other vampire’s defensives and left his spurt of energy to be wasted. Still they fought—blows landed and deflected, feet kicking, and bodies twisting and moving to try to break the other.

In a movement that Reyna could hardly even see, Beckham whirled the other vampire around so his back was to Beckham’s chest. Beckham placed a hand on either side of the vampire’s head. For a split second, the guy stopped moving entirely. He realized he was defeated.

And for the first time, Beckham’s face was illuminated in the streetlight. As she stared into Beckham’s endless dark eyes, Reyna’s gasp was audible.

His fangs were bared, and he looked furious. Beyond furious.

Dangerous.

Ruthless.

Deadly.

“Becks,” she whispered in horror.

But he didn’t seem to hear her. The only sound that followed was the sickening crunch as Beckham turned the vampire’s head to an unnatural angle. He fell to the ground. Dead.

Reyna’s mouth hung open. Holy shit! He had just killed for her. She couldn’t comprehend it. She was wavering in and out of consciousness. She grasped at it, desperate not to succumb to the darkness.

“Little One,” he said softly as he approached her. She watched him suck in a deep breath and then hold it as he bent down toward her. He scooped her up in his arms as if she weighed nothing.

“Everett,” she mumbled.

Beckham sighed and then nodded. He would take care of it. He didn’t even have to say a word.

“Thank you,” she whispered before darkness carried her under.

…

Reyna awoke to find herself laid out on soft cushions. Her body ached everywhere, and she had a splitting headache. As she sat up, she groaned. A hand rested on her shoulder to lay her back down.

“Take it easy,” Beckham said.

She peeled her eyes open. Beckham was sitting next to her on the couch in the living room of his penthouse.

“Becks,” she said, her voice raspy.

She had never been this happy to see him. She couldn’t believe that she was here right now, that he had followed her, that he had saved her. All she wanted to do was reach up and run her hand down his beautiful face and apologize for ever doubting him. Her gratitude was beyond measure. In his eyes, she no longer saw the monster who had snapped the vampire’s neck in half, but a man searching her for signs of distress. A man who may have chosen to take a Permanent subject against his will but would nevertheless take care of her.

Beckham avoided her searching gaze and reached over to the table for a glass of water. “Drink something.”

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