Page 38 of The Captive and the First Blood Game
For what?
Sydney seemed to read her mind. “You must not be aware that Dr. Washington here discovered the blood type cure.”
Reyna nearly fell over. “Youdiscovered the cure?”
She was standing before the man who had found out that pairing a vampire with a human of the same blood type “cured” their baser tendencies. This was how Visage had become an enormous company that employed humans. This was how Harrington had taken over.
“Quite by chance, really. I was a scientist before I was turned. When I met William, only sheer force of will kept him from catapulting into the animal so many of our kind succumb to. He has always been…” He stopped, considering. “A sanitary type of man. A germaphobe—before the word existed, of course. It set him on the path to asking why this happened to him. A question so few had the mental capabilities to ask. And then when we connected, he had a means to figure out how to change it.”
“Enough of a history lesson for the day, Roger,” Sydney said.
“So…this is your fault?” Reyna couldn’t help but ask.
Washington frowned. “I suppose it is.”
“But he is working to right the wrongs of his past,” Sydney said. She gestured for them to take a seat at the end of the conference table. “Which is where you come in.”
“How do I fit into this?”
“You are the key to Harrington’s blood. There is something special about you.”
“It’s chance that our blood types match.”
Sydney met her gaze for a long moment. “Why don’t you let us determine that? In the meantime, I would like to debrief you. Tell me everything that happened in the eight weeks of your disappearance. Nothing is too big or too small.”
Reyna gulped. This was not going to be pleasant.
“That’s it. That’s all I know. That’s everything,” Reyna ground out a few hours later.
They’d made her tell and retell and retell all her stories. It was like they kept expecting her to trip up and prove that she was lying.
There were a few things she kept back for herself—seeing Beckham and Penelope together at the ball, meeting B, and her dreams. She knew that she should tell them about all of this—especially B—but everything was still so agonizing to remember, her fear so acute, she couldn’t dredge it up.
“Are you sure?” Sydney asked for what felt like the thousandth time.
“Yes. I’m sure.” Reyna glanced down at her hands and then straightened. “I actually did have one question for you, though.”
“Oh?”
“You have all the information that I have. You have a complete picture now. I want to help the rebellion. I could be valuable on your team.”
“Valuable how?” Sydney asked.
“Whatever you need. I could do security with my brothers. Or learn to be a double agent. I could be a part of this.”
“Perhaps I could offer you a job in the medical wing with me,” Washington said with a cheery smile.
Reyna balked. That was the absolute last place she wanted to work. She turned pleading eyes on Sydney. “Anything but that.”
Sydney shuffled the papers in front of her and stood. “You asked for a job, and Washington is offering you one. Take it or leave it.”
“I understand. I appreciate the offer. But I amreallybad with hospitals after what I went through. I don’t think that I can handle that kind of position. Don’t you think I could work with my brothers on security?”
“You are important here, Reyna. You are not important dead,” Sydney said bluntly. “Do you understand?”
Reyna nodded solemnly.
“Good. You’re dismissed.”
