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  “She’s right. Penelope can miss one such occasion for you to introduce Reyna to our world. It will be her first time after all. There won’t be another one for a while. She’ll want to see it, won’t you?” Rowland asked, directing his attention back to her again.

  She swallowed, but answered truthfully. “Yes.”

  Beckham scowled at her. “The plans are already in place.”

  “Oh, break the plans. Little Reyna is so young and innocent. Don’t you think it will be positively delicious to see her reaction?”

  “Delicious,” Cassandra purred against Felix’s throat.

  “Plus, she wants to go.”

  “I do,” Reyna agreed. Though she had no idea what she was agreeing to.

  “I see,” Beckham said stiffly. “Then I’ll have to change my plans for the evening.” He gave her a look that said, You have no idea what you’re getting yourself into.

  She just smiled back deviously.

  Chapter 25

  “What the hell is the Vault?” Reyna asked later when they were leaving the restaurant.

  “You’ll see,” Beckham said.

  “You’re not going to tell me?”

  “No,” he said curtly.

  Reyna bit her lip. The way they talked about it at lunch made it sound both exciting and scary. What was she about to walk into? And why the hell wouldn’t Beckham tell her where they were going?

  Once they were finally back in the apartment and Beckham was halfway to his room, she spoke again. “Are you going to tell me anything about it? What I need to wear? Where we’re going? What we’re going to be doing?”

  “You agreed to come. You plotted this whole thing so you would be there. You’ll have to deal with the consequences. Follow my instructions when I give them and do what I say. Everything else will be decided for you.”

  “I can follow instructions. I can come on command.” She said that double entendre under her breath.

  Beckham arched an eyebrow but otherwise didn’t respond to her. She was pretty much used to that, and all the more irritated with him. Beckham disappeared for the rest of the afternoon, leaving her to think about everything that had happened recently with him and wonder what they were going to do.

  To try to clear her mind, she sent Everett a text message.

  Want to do that thing this weekend? I have plans Friday, but maybe Saturday?

  He answered back almost immediately.

  I don’t think it’s a good idea. What if we get caught?

  He had a fair point. She didn’t know what would happen if she got caught sneaking into a black market blood bank, but she didn’t exactly think it would be rainbows and butterflies.

  Then let’s not get caught.

  You make it sound so easy.

  Last time, the room was unguarded when the crowd was in uproar. Maybe we just make something like that happen?

  How exactly do you expect to do that?

  That was a great question. She had no idea, but she knew that she wanted to get back in there and find out what they were up to.

  I don’t know.

  Maybe we can meet this weekend and figure it out.

  Reyna shrugged. She didn’t have any plans except this Vault thing, so it sounded fine to her.

  Saturday night?

  See you after I get off work.

  * * *

  —

  Time felt endlessly slow on Friday. She was cooped up in her room waiting for this Vault thing to go down. Waiting for something that she knew nothing about made her unbelievably anxious. When she tried to look up the Vault on the Internet, her search came back with a bunch of meaningless websites. Certainly nothing that would have the need for this level of secrecy.

  At around eleven at night, two women showed up in her room and got to work on her hair and makeup. When she attempted engaging them in conversation, they remained silent. She didn’t know if they were under orders from Beckham not to give anything away or if they really didn’t know what was going on. Either way they transformed her face until she almost didn’t recognize the sexy vixen wearing the smoky makeup. The hairstylist pulled her dark hair into a sexy updo with loose tendrils framing her face and falling out of her twist.

  When she walked out of her bathroom, she found a small white bag on her bed. She peeked inside, and her eyes widened in surprise. Of all the things Beckham could have suggested, the last thing she expected was skimpy lingerie. She hoped that something was going over this.

  She ran her hands over the soft silk and laces of the outfit and then stripped out of the dress she was wearing. A woman came in a minute later to assist her into the red and black corseted top. She tightened the laces until Reyna was afraid she wasn’t going to be able to breathe. The corset was paired with ruffled black boy shorts, thigh-high stockings that attached to the bottom of the corset with ribbons, and a pair of black-heeled boots. She felt ridiculous…but also sexy in a way she never had before.

  “Where is my dress?” she asked.

  The woman handed her a black silk kimono that didn’t look like it would even cover her ass. “Here you are.”

  “Wait…but where is the dress that goes over this?”

  “This was all we were provided.”

  Reyna slid the kimono over her shoulders and pulled it closed over the revealing outfit. Not that it did much to hide the fact that she was wearing very little.

  What the hell had she got herself into? She was dressed like a real escort.

  Reyna pushed down her apprehension and decided to own it. She had gotten herself invited to the Vault. There was no way she was about to walk away just because she was dressed in even more scandalous clothing than normal. Beckham had seen her half-naked. This wouldn’t be so bad.

  When she left her room, Beckham turned his gaze to her, and she let the front of the kimono drop open. His eyes swept her body. He inhaled deeply and his lip quirked upward for a split second. He tried so hard to hold on to his cool demeanor, but she could tell that her outfit affected him. She may have been pissed at him, but it was always nice to feel sexy.

  “Stay close to me,” he said, walking toward her. “Everyone is going to want to get their hands on you in that.”

  “Everyone?” she asked.

  He smirked. “Oh yes…everyone.”

  “Even you?”

  His eyes darkened, and he looked away from her. “Just don’t leave my side. You have no idea what you’re about to walk into.”

  She wanted to ask him to tell her, but the look on his face stilled the question on her tongue. He wasn’t going to answer. She knew that much. He was enjoying the anticipation.

  She focused her attention instead on imprinting the way Beckham looked in that moment to her brain. Head cocked to one side, dressed in a black suit with a black shirt underneath unbuttoned at the top. All black from head to toe and utterly delectable. It might be easier to avoid wanting to jump his bones if he didn’t look so damn attractive.

  In the place of their normal Town Car was a sleek black limo. Her eyes lit up. She had never been in a limo before. Never even dreamed that she would have use for one. The driver opened the door for her, and she slipped into the backseat. Beckham followed after her.

  “There’s one more piece to your outfit,” he told her once the car started moving.

  “Oh?” she asked, intrigued.

  He removed a thick black ribbon of silk from his pocket. He looked devious in the dim lighting.

  “Have you ever been blindfolded?” he asked.

  She swallowed and shook her head. “Is that necessary?”

  “The Vault has strict security. No one is supposed to know the exact location unless you’re an elite member. It’s a precaution.” He twirled his finger in place. “Turn around.”

&nb
sp; She slowly did as instructed. Her heart pitter-pattered in her chest with anticipation. She hated herself for getting so worked up over it—but damn, she wanted him. Even through her anger and his stupidity, she wanted to feel alive again with him.

  He slid the fabric over her eyes and everything went dark. He tied it in a tight knot at the back of her head. His hand slipped down her back once he finished. “How is that?” he asked.

  “I can’t see anything.”

  She tightened her legs together. Without her sense of sight, she was susceptible to everything else tenfold. The smell of his musky cologne, the light touch of his hand against her skin, the small physical distance between them—and how desperately her heightened awareness made her want to bridge it.

  But after touching her back, Beckham left the space between them vacant. She felt cold and empty without him, but she wouldn’t be the one to cross the line. Not after what had happened on the roof. Her nerves got the better of her and with each passing mile and turn of the car, she grew more anxious about where they were going. About a half hour later, the car started driving downward beneath the city.

  The car finally came to a halt.

  She was ready to pry off the blindfold herself and find out where she was. She had been turned around thirty minutes ago and had no hope of ever leading anyone to the underground location.

  Beckham leaned toward her in the limo and tugged the blindfold from her face. She found herself staring into his dark eyes as she adjusted to the new light.

  “We’re here,” he said.

  “Where is here exactly?”

  He shook his head. “It’s best if you leave all the talking to me.”

  “Okay,” she said hesitantly.

  “And I got you something.”

  “What? Something else?”

  He removed a black box from the inside of his jacket pocket and handed it to her. She took it in her hands in awe. A jewelry box. Who would have thought she would ever own a piece of jewelry that would warrant a black velvet box?

  She pried the top open and stared down at the most beautiful silver bangle bracelet, in-laid with diamonds. The top was engraved with the words ANDERSON, O-. Her mouth was open and she couldn’t seem to recover herself. A diamond bracelet? She knew he was wealthy, but she never would have thought he would splurge on something like this for her.

  Beckham slipped it on her wrist, where it sat cold against her skin. “Never take this off once you’re inside.”

  “Why?”

  “It shows that you’re with me. It will protect you.”

  “From what?” Why was he always so worried that she would need protection?

  “Everything.”

  That was another non-answer, but she at least trusted him to keep her safe. Even though the bracelet had something to do with the Vault, she relished in the feel of it against her wrist. She loved that it meant she was with him…even if it in some way meant she belonged to him.

  “Are you ready?”

  “As I’ll ever be.”

  Beckham opened the door and assisted her out of the car. There was a door that blended in with the surrounding concrete, which opened at their approach. They entered a nearly pitch-black hallway. At the end was a small room with a giant vault door. Beckham passed a white card through a slot next to the door, and then a hand slipped them two similar cards.

  “Welcome to the Vault,” a woman purred from the other side.

  “What’s that?” Reyna asked, pointing at the cards.

  “Participation cards. You won’t need yours.”

  Reyna arched her eyebrow. “Why not?”

  “Because you won’t be participating,” he growled low.

  “Participating in what?”

  “You’re about to find out.”

  She looked up at him defiantly. “And what if I want to participate in whatever this is?”

  Beckham grabbed her arm and tugged her close to him so they were nearly pressed together. “This bracelet says you’re mine, Little One. No one can get near you but me, and they would be a fool to do so. Now stop talking and let’s go inside.”

  Reyna nodded despite her trepidation about what was to come. Their conversation made no sense to her—participation cards, bracelets that claimed her—she steeled herself for whatever she was about to witness.

  The large handle on the door turned in circles and then pushed inward. When the door opened all the way, she was transported into another world and gasped in surprise.

  “It’s a…sex club,” she whispered.

  Chapter 26

  “A brothel actually,” Beckham said.

  Reyna stared around the room in awe. The whole place was decorated in swathes of red, purple, and black. Divans covered with pillows littered the perimeter of the large open room. Tables were set up with dozens of plush chairs around them already occupied by attendees. Everything was centered around a stage with a large white bed on it.

  She tore her eyes from the empty stage and to the patrons in the establishment. Many were pulling people into shadowed alcoves where they could do things she could only imagine. Bare-chested men in nothing but short tight black shorts carried around trays with cocktails and a little dropper filled with something as red as blood. She didn’t even want to know what that was for. Stark-naked women lay on buffet-style tables filled with all varieties of food. The irony wasn’t lost on her.

  The patrons were all vampires dressed to the nines with lapdog humans on leashes and all forms of debauchery. Even though Reyna matched the general attire of most other women in the place, she felt out of her depth. In fact, most people wore less than she. But it was the feeling of power that reverberated throughout the room. Vampires had all of it, and the humans were subjugated to their desires. She shuddered at the thought.

  “You said you wanted to come,” Beckham reminded her.

  “And now I’m here.”

  He leaned over and whispered into her ear, “Take off your robe.”

  She didn’t even question him. She could tell just by the vibe in the room that this was not the place for questions. She swallowed back her discomfort, looked up at him, and let the material slide to the floor. His eyes crawled her body again, and she noticed a slight tremor in his hand.

  “I need a drink,” he said.

  Reyna smiled at the implied meaning in his words.

  She followed him across the room and tried to keep her eyes on him alone rather than the decadence and debauchery around her. They took a seat at the back of the room. She tucked her chair under the table until most of her body was obscured.

  Beckham sat next to her and a waiter approached them. She accepted a glass of water, because she wanted to keep a clear head, but Beckham ordered scotch.

  “A drop, Mr. Anderson?” the waiter asked.

  He shook his head forcefully. “No.”

  The man nodded, handed him a drink, and then disappeared.

  “What is a drop?” she asked.

  Beckham sighed. “One day I will get you to stop asking questions.”

  “Unlikely.”

  “A drop is a drop of blood.”

  “What kind?”

  He gave her a sobering look and she understood.

  “You mean people here are drinking blood that isn’t a match,” she gasped in horror.

  “It’s just a pick-me-up. Nothing that would cause anyone any harm…or any more harm than they already wish on themselves.”

  Reyna was still trying to process that when Rowland, Cassandra, Sophie, and Felix showed up at their table. Rowland was in a suit, while Cassandra had opted for a long black lace dress that was entirely see-through and somehow managed to be more revealing than Reyna’s lingerie. Felix was in nothing but black boxer briefs and a gold studded collar. He already had bite marks in his neck, a
nd as usual looked a bit dazed and out of it. Sophie was confident and cool in a white bridal lingerie set that contrasted with the dark tones of the room.

  “Good to see you, Beckham,” Rowland said with a tip of his head. Reyna noticed the red hue of his drink and shuddered. Just what she needed, a feral Rowland.

  The way he looked at her made it seem like he was slowly undressing her with his eyes. She felt as naked as the girls laid out on the tables in front of him, and she shifted uncomfortably.

  “Glad you could make it, Reyna,” Rowland said.

  She glanced away from him and kept her mouth shut. The memory of what he’d said at the ball came back to her, making her sick. I will find you later, love. Be sure of it.

  The lights flickered twice, signaling for everyone to take their seats. Sophie sat next to Reyna, who breathed a sigh of relief that Rowland wouldn’t be within arm’s reach. He creeped her out and knowing he was drinking a drop didn’t help anything.

  A busty woman in black lingerie and a long sheer kimono that trailed behind as she walked stepped onto the stage at the front.

  “Welcome ladies, gentlemen, and all manner of deviants.” She extended her arms out to the crowd, and strutted across the stage. “I’m Dee, the Madame of the Vault. You’re now locked in to my world of debauchery. No one comes in and no one goes out. You know the rules.” She winked as she sashayed across the floor. “Tonight, I have a special treat for you. A rare delicacy draped all in white. Some strapping young lads and a few…taste testers. Prepare to be bewitched. I give you a feast.”

  She gestured to the bed and then sauntered offstage. Reyna leaned forward as a trembling young girl stepped out in a white dress to her knees. She looked the part of a sacrificial lamb. And she had everyone’s rapt attention.

  Fear roiled off of the girl, and she was powerless to do anything to stop it.

  Reyna grasped Beckham’s hand. She thought Beckham would throw her off, but he just closed his hand around hers.