Blood Cure (Blood Type 3)

Beckham didn’t give Penelope another glance before walking to Reyna and lifting her into his arms. “Hold on to me.” Her body awoke at his nearness and she curled into him, wrapping her arms around his neck. “Head in.” She did as he said and then soon he was racing away.

Away from the living room with a dead woman and a forever broken escort.

She had to close her eyes as she moved at the superhuman speed that Beckham employed. She barely was able to concentrate on her own thoughts, let alone process what had just happened. One minute he’d been seducing information out of Penny and the next she was dead at his feet. It had been so easy. So unbelievably easy.

Beckham set Reyna down just inside the entrance to Penny’s building, keeping her body obscured by the large metal door. “Don’t move.”

She couldn’t argue. She had no reason to. She could barely function after the way that his speed muddled her. She just latched onto the door handle and tried to remain upright.

Beckham glanced out the door to access the situation and then slipped out. Reyna peeked through the opening and saw Beckham moving like a blur as he attacked Visage’s men. An elbow to the chin, legs swept out from under, a rifle snapped in half, the butt of another gun smashed against a temple. Over and over every member of the team Harrington must have sent was taken down by Beckham’s martial prowess.

If he’d been human, he’d already be dead. Bullets pierced his skin, lodging in his body. Vampire adrenaline must have kicked in, because he never even wavered.

Soon his chest was rising and falling at a rapid rate as he stood over a plane of bodies. They lay like carrion awaiting the vultures. Beckham the unstoppable beast, riddled with bullets, and master over all. Nothing could touch him.

Reyna slowly inched the door open. “Are…are they dead?”

He shook his head sharply once to the right. His eyes were lost in the distance. A force raging through him that she couldn’t possibly harness.

She chewed on her lip and waited for him to get under control. She could tell he needed a minute. Finally, his bottomless eyes turned to her and he extended a hand.

She moved toward him. The lamb stepping into the wolf’s circle, expecting the slaughter.

“You fear me?”

“Never,” she whispered.

Beckham snarled as if her answer infuriated him instead of soothing him. But he didn’t give her another chance to respond. He scooped her back up and raced away from the scene. She tucked her chin in again and tried to ignore her brain rattling in her skull.

She couldn’t even believe he was still moving at top speeds. But a helicopter was beating overhead. Spotlights closing in around them. Other Visage vampires would be drawn to their trail. He couldn’t stop. They couldn’t stop. If they were caught, they were both dead and they both knew it. Beckham could only take so much more of this.

Just when she thought she might throw up from the sheer vertigo, Beckham dropped out of vampire speed and ducked into an alcove. The streetlights were smashed to pieces at their feet and the darkness enveloped them.

A helicopter sounded overhead. They were so close. If they moved the spotlight one street over, she and Beckham would be seen. Beckham moved deeper into the alley, becoming one with the shadows.

She tightened her grip on him as fear pricked at her every nerve ending. She could feel his distress and the amount of pain he was in and thought she’d be sick. How could he endure it? He might think he was immortal, but eventually he’d have to stop and face the music. He was losing blood at too quick a rate. It was oozing out of multiple wounds. Hot and red, pouring down his chest and arms. She was sticky with it.

“Becks, we have to get you help,” she whispered.

“I just…need…to get the bullets…out.”

“Where can we go?”

He shook his head. “The safe houses aren’t safe.”

“Can we get to Drew?”

Beckham shook his head. “Too far away. I can’t…”

He didn’t finish the sentence. He wouldn’t make it. Fuck.

“Okay. Okay. Shit.”

“We’ll just have to find a place.” Another helicopter appeared overhead. Beckham moved farther down the alley. “We’ll be caught otherwise.”

Then he was sprinting again. She could feel him searching for a place where they could stop. Knowing that they didn’t have time for this.

They moved through the shadows, avoiding the police presence waiting for him to trip up. He stopped at what looked like an abandoned convenience store and barreled through the door. He finally put Reyna down on her feet.

“This will do,” Beckham groaned.

She glanced around the shoddy shelves of potato chips and a slushie machine with an OUT OF ORDER sign on it.

“Gross.”

Beckham leaned his weight against the door and pulled the shade down. Then he yanked the keypad from the entrance by the door. This wasn’t the sort of place she’d think would have a security system, but better safe than sorry.