Blood Cure (Blood Type 3)

“Brunettes, right,” Reyna muttered.

“Hey, at least he didn’t torture you into insanity like the others!” Katarina said, all chipper. “Looking up for you.”

“Kat,” Beckham snarled. It sounded like he said that a lot.

“What? Philippé likes brunettes too.” Kat winked at her. “Young male ones.”

Philippé threw something at Kat’s back and she stumbled forward. “Hey!”

“You had that one coming,” Beckham said. “Now, can we get back to business?”

“Right. The spy’s place was secure. We’d never even tracked it.”

“So, like…is that what you do for Beckham?” Reyna asked. “Have you always been working behind the scenes?”

“Pretty much,” Kat said with a wink. “Gerard and Philippé worked for Beckham in public, and Zoya and I did the things other people couldn’t see.”

“Like a spy.”

Kat shrugged. “You could say that. We’re a tight-knit group.” She turned back to Beckham. “Anyway, I thought it might be that zealot group we’d had on our radar for a while, but it wasn’t. This is an all new thing. They use the tunnel systems to get around. Clever.”

“Your assessment of the premises?”

“Secure,” Philippé said from behind them.

Katarina agreed.

“Are they dangerous?” Beckham asked.

“Not in the least. Besides the stink eye we got, they seem to want just to be left alone. They’re kind of doomsdayers. Stockpiles of enough shit to sustain a nuclear attack or, you know, vampiric control of the country. Whichever came first. Right now, feels like a coin toss.”

“It just keeps getting better.”

“But can they house us?” Reyna asked.

“Oh yeah. They can probably house two hundred without a pinch. They agreed to let our people stay there as long as there were no vampires.” Kat rolled her eyes to show what she thought of that.

They all stopped in front of the SUV. Reyna wrapped her pinky around Beckham’s. He squeezed gently.

“This sounds like our best bet,” Reyna said.

“Kat? Philippé?” Beckham looked at them with full trust in his eyes. She could feel the bond between them that had been shaped, molded, fired, and glazed over the years. Made from soft clay into a beautiful work of art that fire only solidified. She wondered what they had done to earn that sort of trust.

“I agree with Reyna,” Katarina said. “The place is secure. We didn’t know about it, so Harrington likely doesn’t know about it either. It’s better than the mansion.”

Philippé grunted. Reyna supposed that was a confirmation.

“Okay.”

And just like that Beckham was in on the plan to move the remaining members of Elle to the anti-vamp cult facilities. They spent much of the rest of the day moving people to the new facility. Meghan and Tye had checked out two other safe houses Zoya had discovered while they were gone and found another five people in one location, but everyone at the other had been killed.

Once everyone was finally settled, Reyna and Beckham followed them into the subterranean headquarters. Everett was wearing a smug look when he saw her.

“Stop that,” she spat.

He crossed his arms. “Look, I held up my end of the bargain.”

“There was no bargain.”

“Oh right, that was in my head. I want to go to Visage and see if my brother is alive. And I want the help of someone who has been there.” He snapped his fingers. “That’s you. That’s my bargain.”

Reyna pinched the bridge of her nose. “We don’t have the manpower or resources to break into Visage. How do you expect us to do that?”

“I’m a spy, Reyna. I can get us inside. But you know how to get around. You know where people are kept.”

“I was a prisoner,” she reminded him. “I didn’t go out on strolls.”

“Someone got you out, which means you have floor plans. Just think, you can make this altruistic, if you like. We can get everyone out of there. Even better, we can broadcast it and put a dent in Visage’s credibility.”

Reyna hated to admit that it was a good idea. But it was. She wanted to save the people who were like Jodie and had been under Visage almost all of their lives. The ones like her, who Harrington had used to feed from or experiment on. The ones like Beckham’s sister, Bronwyn, and Everett’s brother, Edmond, who Visage had kept for collateral.

“Let me think on it. We can’t do anything until after the snow clears anyway.”

Everett put his hand on her shoulder. She flinched and pulled away. Sadness crinkled his eyes for a split second before he covered it up. “I just wanted to say I’m sorry. You know…for everything.”

“I don’t trust you, Everett. This is a huge step for me. I really think you’re going to fuck this up. Do me a favor, okay?”

He looked at her warily. “What’s that?”

“Prove me wrong.”

She moved away from Everett, careful to avoid his friends, and went back to Drew’s side. “Are you ready to go?”

“Go?” he asked.