Blood Cure (Blood Type 3)
Then he turned and walked away.
Genevieve patted her arm. “I shouldn’t have brought her up. She and Master Washington were together many years before she passed on. She was a fearsome leader of the vampires. She had a vision for Visage much like yours. It was Harrington who manipulated it.”
Reyna sighed and stared off after Washington. “And he killed her for it?”
Genevieve nodded. “Unfortunately.”
“Sounds like a horrible loss.”
“It was. It truly was. Well, I must be getting back, but if you need anything at all, let me know. I will be around.”
“Thank you, Genevieve.”
Reyna sensed Beckham’s presence at her back before she felt the brush of his fingers against her sleeve.
“Elisa was before my time as well,” he said. “They say she was a visionary.”
She turned around to face him. Her heart melted at the sight of him.
After hearing everything he had to say and getting the rebellion back on track, she suddenly felt exhausted. Beckham didn’t need her to say anything. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and escorted her upstairs and into his room.
He swept a blank glance around it. “You are staying here?”
“Washington told me it was yours.” She nearly choked on the words. “It was all I had of you…other than the memories.”
He tilted her chin up. “You’ve changed.”
“I thought you were dead.”
“I told you that if the world didn’t break you, I would. And here you are.” He looked suddenly pissed. As if he was going to start raging about the room, even though he was the most in control person she had ever met.
“I was broken,” she admitted hollowly. “But then…then you put me back together.”
He shot her an incredulous look.
“If I crumpled, then your death would be for nothing. You wanted better than that for me. You always protected me, but you also kindled the fire within me. Letting it go out would be to dishonor your memory.”
“And in the meantime, you became the leader of Elle?” he asked, pushing his hands into his pockets. His voice was dry with sarcasm. “That would certainly keep you safe.”
“Truthfully, I didn’t much care about my own safety.” Reyna ran a hand back through her hair. “I’d lost both of my brothers and my sister-in-law. Jodie was missing. Elle was blown up. And the person I cared the most about—my blood match, my soul mate, was dead.”
“Soul mate,” he said slowly. Reyna had never seen fear in those onyx eyes, but suddenly it was there.
“Yes. Washington said that a blood match is similar to a soul mate. A one-of-a-kind match.”
He seemed incredulous. “I’d have to have a soul for that, Little One.”
Reyna took a step back. “Becks, of course you have a soul.”
“No. That much I’m certain of.”
“You are determined to see the worst in yourself.”
“I see the reality,” he told her.
“Why am I surprised that even when you come back from the dead you argue with me?” Reyna shook her head. “How did you find me?”
“I sensed you.”
“Out here?” she gasped. “We’re an hour from the city.”
“You came into the city. When I woke up and got to the safe house, I thought you must be dead because I tried to sense you and felt nothing. If Gerard hadn’t come to help me, I would be dead right now. But then I felt your presence. I knew precisely where you were.”
“I went into the city to get Jodie back. I can’t believe you could sense me then. I didn’t feel anything. Definitely nothing like when you showed up here.”
“Maybe it was because I had your blood in my system. Either way, I nearly went mad trying to leave to go to you, but Gerard wouldn’t let me.”
“Why?” she whispered. “Did he not want you to see me?”
“No. It wasn’t that. I was too…weak to leave,” he admitted with distaste. “I used all my energy in getting information out of Penelope and then fleeing. I’d never been so drained in my life. As if my body had used every last bit of energy to knit me back together and I was left with nothing.”
She could see the toll that had taken on him. After thinking she was dead, he couldn’t even go to her when he’d realized she was alive. She would have gone mad too. Especially considering his physical prowess was integral to who he was…losing that had to have been debilitating.
“It took a week of near-constant feeding to begin recovering. I’m still not where I was.” He growled that last bit. A condemnation of himself.
She reached over and gently touched his hand. “You found me. I’m here. We’re both alive and safe.” Her hand moved to his jaw and he met her gaze. “Let me help you get healthy.”
His eyes narrowed. “No.”
“Becks,” she said softly. “I am your blood match. My blood must have helped save your life. It’s the only explanation. We need you at full capacity. Let me use my blood to help.”