Blood Type (Blood Type 1)

As sexy as this place had seemed when she first entered, the Vault was a disease. It did nothing but perpetuate the very behavior the blood type cure had tried to curb.

She longed for her camera to show the real dark side of the vampire elite. That would show them. But of course she knew that she couldn’t do that. She didn’t have her camera, and even if she did…she wouldn’t incriminate Beckham in this. As much as she hated him right now, she wouldn’t hurt him the way he had hurt her.

All she wanted was to go home to her brothers. She had saved enough for a little while, and she would redouble her efforts to get another job once she got back to them. Anything would be better than this game they were playing.

She sat up on the bed and took a deep breath. Yes. That was what she would do.

Just as she came to that conclusion, the door to her room popped open. She scrambled to her feet ready to tell the person to leave her alone. Then Rowland walked in, closed and locked the door, and she knew immediately that she was royally fucked.

“Hello, pet.”

Reyna attempted to mask the fear rolling off of her. Rowland, she knew, was not like the other vampire, who had released her at the mention of Beckham’s name. Rowland knew no fear. He had been toying with her for weeks, waiting for the right opportunity to strike.

“You’ve been playing cat and mouse with me,” he said. He ambled forward slowly. He watched her with close attention.

“No, I haven’t,” she said. She tried to put conviction in her voice, but she worried it was lost. All she had was fear at this point. How could she escape Rowland in a locked room made for this very thing?

Rowland tsked her like a petulant child. “No lying, pet. I’ve been watching you. I knew I would find you alone eventually.”

He stepped even closer to her, and she hurried away from him. The deadly smirk on his face only increased with her fear. He backed her up until her knees hit the bed. She sat down heavily and tried to scoot out of his reach.

“Beckham is probably looking for me,” she told him.

“No. He’s not,” Rowland said with conviction. “He’s thoroughly occupied with Miss Sky, and will be for some time, I assume. He always is.”

Reyna winced at the mention of Penelope and Beckham alone together. The worst of it all was that she knew it was true. Beckham hadn’t even seen her leave when he started drinking from Penelope. He wouldn’t be looking for her, and Rowland clearly enjoyed watching the realization come over her.

“But no worry.” Rowland ran his hand down her arm. She felt sick to her stomach. “I plan to keep you occupied on my own.”

Reyna dashed to the other side of the bed and tried to run to the door. But before she had even made it past the bed, Rowland grabbed her arm. She cried out as he held her in a bruising grasp before throwing her back against the foot of the bed.

He laughed. “You will not leave. I’ve ensured it.” His hand brushed her dark hair out of her face like a caress. She gritted her teeth. “Now, where were we? Oh, yes. Don’t tell me that you haven’t imagined this moment. I know I have.”

“I’ve never thought about you in that way,” she growled.

“You would think of him that way, but not me?” he asked in disgust. “He has no interest in you but as a passing fancy. I find your will entertaining. A thing worth breaking like a prized stallion. Back home in France, we used to pay a pretty penny for a broken horse. I will see it done to you too. Starting tonight.”

Reyna screamed as he lunged for her. She darted out from under his arm and dashed toward the door again. She reached it and started grappling with the lock. But she wasn’t fast enough. Rowland’s hand clamped down on her hair and wrenched her backward. She yelled as some of her hair was pulled from the root, and her twist unraveled from its pins. As he dragged her by her hair across the room, she lost her footing and he just dug in deeper to yank her along.

He threw her back on the bed and crawled on top of her. Tears streamed down her face from the pain in her scalp and the terror of what was to come.

“Look at the way you tremble and cry and taste,” he said, bending down and licking her tears off of her cheek. “Oh, I plan to savor your taste.”

His hands fell to her corset, and he ripped it open from top to bottom, revealing her breasts to him.