Blood Type (Blood Type 1)

“I’ll have to look into him. I can’t have this get back to you,” he said, his voice determined.

“You said that before, but I don’t think Everett is going to say anything. Who would he tell anyway?”

“Can’t take the chance.”

“Why are you freaking out? What happened?” Reyna hopped off the bed and stopped his pacing. It was starting to scare her. Had something happened? Was this related to the rebellion things that Everett had told her about? She didn’t want to cause Beckham trouble even if she was secretly glad that her images were making a splash.

“Nothing. Nothing happened. I just want to make sure you’re protected,” he said. He pulled away from her touch. He looked shaken and that only scared her more. “Remember when I said a picture is worth a thousand words? Some people have different words for images than you or I. Those images can then become dangerous.”

She stood very still and tried to imagine what could scare Beckham into worrying about those images. And if he was worried, why was he allowing her to keep them?

“Should I stop posting them?” she asked.

“You like them?”

She nodded. “Very much. It gives me purpose.”

He wavered before shaking his head. “Then they stay.”

“Can I ask you something without you getting angry?”

Beckham narrowed his eyes. “Okay?”

She took a deep breath and then ventured forward with her question. “Is this about the rebellion?”

Beckham stiffened and his eyes narrowed. He was perfectly still and silent like a statue. He searched her face for something, but she wasn’t sure what it was. “What rebellion?” he said very carefully.

“Elle,” she said simply. His eyebrows rose sharply. “I heard that there was a rebellion or a resistance to Visage.”

“Where did you hear that?”

“Does it matter?”

“Yes. Was it at the fight? Did you talk to someone or see anything suspicious?” he probed.

She looked away from him. She wasn’t ready to tell him about the blood banks. If Elle was a real thing, it was very clear that Beckham was on Visage’s side. He was such a high-ranking official it would be ludicrous to think otherwise. It didn’t matter that he was different than the other vampires she had met in the upper echelon. He wouldn’t want to give up his power. Power made people hungry and greedy. Two things at which vampires were already experts.

“You mean besides the fight, everyone’s reaction to the fight, and getting chased out of the place? No. Nothing out of the ordinary.”

Beckham scowled at her. “Then where did you hear about it?”

Reyna bit her lip before answering. “Everett. He was telling me about the fact that my images could be used to support the Elle rebels or something. That they showcased the crux of humanity’s difficulties. But I’m not part of the rebellion. I’m clearly with the system, here, working for you and Visage. I wouldn’t go against what you wanted with the company. I mean, I think people need help, but I don’t think we should take down Visage either. Some of the things they’re doing are really helpful. I just think we need an alternative way to also help the people who don’t work for them. Okay, I’ll stop now.” When she realized she was babbling, she quickly shut her mouth.

Beckham didn’t immediately respond. He ran a hand back through his hair in frustration and seemed to want to say so many things. She could feel the indecision rolling off of him.

God, she hadn’t meant for any of this to happen. When Beckham had given her this camera she hadn’t thought that her pictures would ever be seen by anyone. The power of the Internet was infinite.

“Get dressed,” he said suddenly. “We’ll talk about it on the way.”

“The way where?”

“You’ll see. Just bring your camera.” And then he stormed out of her room in a hurry.

That damn man was always in a hurry.

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 knew 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.”