“A new mayor?” she asked, whipping around.
As soon as she did, she knew that she’d walked right into his hands.
“Mayor Sky recently passed away.”
She knew what that meant. He was murdered.
“Who is the new mayor?”
He smiled, and she saw his lethal look return. “I believe you’re acquainted with his daughter: Penelope Sky.”
Chapter Five
Penny was the mayor.
Reyna couldn’t wrap her head around it. Penelope Sky, the mayor’s beautiful daughter who was in her last year of college, had been elected mayor? The human girl who was in love with Beckham, who had been the cover for his involvement in the underground rebellion, who was everything Reyna was not. Penelope, who had been severely burned in the Vault sex club fire a little over eight weeks ago, was somehow mayor.
How the hell had that happened?
Harrington finished his second glass of champagne and waited expectantly. He wanted her to ask more. He knew she was starved for information. Even this little amount made her want to crawl out of her skin to get to the bottom of it.
But that look on his face—that slimy, manipulative grin—said it all. If she gave him an inch, he’d take a mile.
“Interesting,” she said instead. Then she returned her eyes to the party below.
“I have to mingle with the guests and congratulate our new mayor. In the meantime, feel free to partake in the food and drinks provided. If you need anything, there is a speaker by the door. You can request it from the man I positioned outside, and he will bring you what you need.”
Then he was gone.
She released a long sigh of frustration.
She didn’t know what to think about Harrington’s plan. Of course, logically, she would much rather live in a prison that looked more like paradise than a hospital. But giving in had as many consequences as resisting did. It would mean she’d given up on any chance of escape. It would mean she was okay living the life Harrington had forced on her. It would mean she was a willing captive, and she was so fucking far from willing in any of this.
She scanned the party as her mind continued to process. Despite the conversation she’d had with Harrington, she was mesmerized by the ball. All the glittering dresses and sharp suits. The drinking, mingling, celebrating. She hadn’t seen this many people in weeks. It was all so much. Nearly overwhelming in its intensity, after such a stark, dreary eight weeks.
Amazing to think that she had lived this life with Beckham, before being kidnapped. They had shown up at a ball just like this to celebrate Congress’s passage of the Blood Census. That felt like a lifetime ago.
Everyone’s attention drifted up to the stage as Harrington walked onto it. He was leaning more heavily on his cane than she had seen him do in weeks. Another of the games he insisted he didn’t play. She wondered how many people actually knew that he’d found a blood type match. If she knew him at all—and it was scary that she felt she was getting to—very few. Probably even fewer knew the match was Reyna.
If he was putting on an act as the feeble old man she had first met, then he was doing it for a reason. Harrington always had a motive.
He finally made it to the microphone. She couldn’t hear what he was saying due to this wretched soundproof room, but whatever it was, he had everyone’s rapt attention. After a few minutes, the audience enthusiastically applauded and Harrington held out his hand to the back of the stage.
Out walked none other than Penelope Sky herself.
She wore a sleek sky-blue ball gown that was both alluring and demure. Her dark mane was piled up high on her head. Known for her perfect heart-shaped face, cute little button nose, and matching dimples, Penelope was one of the most beautiful humans Reyna had ever seen. And even from a distance, she could recognize that Penny looked gorgeous. Yet…different.
Something had definitely changed in her appearance. The burns, even if they were no longer immediately visible, had irrevocably shaped her. Technology was a miracle worker, but even skin grafts couldn’t completely remake Penelope into what she had once been.
Not that her beauty was her only asset. She was already rich and educated, two things that were nearly impossible for humans at this point. The income gap between the rich and poor was at an astronomical, unprecedented high; money and privilege went a long way. Her looks were merely a bonus. Still, Reyna couldn’t help, despite everything, thinking that she pitied Penny. She felt bad that Penny had been left in the fires. That Beckham had had to go into the club to retrieve her and found her so marred.
Penelope wasn’t even supposed to be there that night. Whatever else had happened, she didn’t deserve that pain. No one did.
As Penelope delivered her speech, Reyna’s eyes crawled the rest of the room, searching out familiar faces. It only took her a minute to find one of Harrington’s most trusted advisors, Roland, in the crowd. She shuddered at the sight of him. The man who had tried to force himself on her, who had been determined to have her no matter what Beckham thought. He’d almost succeeded, too. If Beckham hadn’t shown up, Reyna didn’t know how she ever would have come back from that.
Roland’s blood escort, Sophie, was standing at his side, clad in virginal white as always. Sophie was a willing subject to vampires, but Reyna couldn’t hate her. Every escort in the system had a story, and Sophie’s reasons for joining were her own.
Next to Roland and Sophie was the fiery redhead, Cassandra. She completed Harrington’s treasured trio—Beckham, Roland, and Cassandra. She was unpredictable and treated humans as if they were simply a food source. Her last escort, Felix, had been killed in the underground club fires, but it looked as if she had a new play toy beside her.
