Page 69 of The Monster and the Last Blood Match

Reyna slipped out of her sleeping clothes and threw on a soft black backless dress and red-backed heels. She longed for her jeans and Converse, but when Beckham said “dressed” that wasn’t what he meant. He let her keep the clothes, but that didn’t mean he wanted her to wear them.

At least she was getting used to the shoes.

They left the penthouse shortly afterward and got into Beckham’s car. The driver drove them through the darkened city, which seemed all closed up for the night.

Reyna was anxious to find out where they were going and what he would tell her about the rebellion. She hadn’t thought he would actually say anything. Or at the very least she had thought he would get angry with her for bringing it up. Since neither of those things had happened, she waited rather impatiently for him to explain.

“You don’t talk a lot, you know?”

Beckham was gazing straight ahead, but she was staring at him and didn’t miss the upturn of his lips. “You only lasted through three minutes of silence.”

“Well, if I kept waiting for you to say something, I’d be waiting forever.”

“Silence gives me time to think and not act impulsively.”

She gave him an innocent look.

After another quiet minute, Beckham continued. “For a long time, I didn’t think before I acted, and I’ve now cultivated this new skill to protect everyone around me.”

“How does silence protect people? It seems to keep them at a distance.”

“Where they belong,” he said firmly. “Everyone should be kept at a distance.”

“Everyone?” she asked. She couldn’t help leaning toward him. How could he think that? What had happened to him to make him want to push everyone in his life away?

“Yes. I do not relish the thought of acting on my every whim.”

“Do you act onanywhims?”

“Some,” he admitted.

His eyes looked at her body and then up to her lips. She tensed as the memory of his kisses flooded her mind. She couldn’t get them out of her head. Even when she was mad at him, the touch of his lips still brought chills to her skin. She wanted more. She craved him like an addict craved the next hit. She didn’t know what he did to her, but when they got like this, she didn’t care. It didn’t matter how infuriating he was—she was caught up in the whirlwind of their desire.

“Be glad that I do not act on more. If I did, far fewer people would have their throats intact.”

Reyna’s mouth dropped open. What the hell was she supposed to say to that? She turned back to face the front. “Oh.”

The car finally stopped outside of an outrageously tall building on the outskirts of the city. It wasn’t a bad area by any means, but Reyna had never been out this far. She didn’t even know that nice areas existed outside of downtown proper. Everything was pitch black; even the building didn’t have any lights on. It looked closed, but Beckham had said nothing was barred to him.

Beckham helped her out of the car, and then she followed him up to the front door. Reyna peered inside, but the interior wasn’t visible. The glass must have been tinted, or it was just that dark. Beckham slipped a card out of his wallet and scanned it against a magnetic strip she hadn’t noticed, and the door clicked open soundlessly.

He ushered her inside and then took her hand to guide her through the darkened interior. She relished the feel of his hand engulfing hers.

“What is this place?” she asked, looking around at the dark blank walls.

“Office space.”

“For Visage?”

“No.”

“Then what company?”

“For once, be silent and enjoy the ride,” he told her, pushing them through the elevator doors.

She laughed. “Fine. You win.”

“I usually do.”

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