“I love you too.”
She melted into his touch. Their bodies becoming one. She needed this comfort. To know that she was loved as she went out to take on the world.
“We can do this together,” Beckham said.
“You’re right. We should have always done it together.”
“Just don’t hesitate. You’ll only get one opportunity.”
“I know. We’ve gone over this.”
He tilted her chin up to meet his deep obsidian eyes. They were the hardened eyes of a warrior, with the fierce determination of someone who had gone into battle time and time again and come out ahead. His experience far outweighed hers. The thrill of battle was a drug to him. It was all over him. If she reached for his emotions, she could revel in it like a pill for her anxiety.
But she needed her anxiety. Her stress. Her total awareness of every fucking thing that could go wrong.
She’d gone into battle once already against Harrington.
She’d lost.
Beckham had died.
If she wasn’t aware of that, then she would be going into this with false confidence. She was terrified. And she needed to be. The last time she’d faced Harrington she’d been cocky. Young and inexperienced, not yet completely weathered by the reality of her world. Somehow still completely naive to the ruthlessness of William Harrington. She wasn’t walking into this half-cocked. She had a plan and a team and backup. She was about to walk out onto the chessboard and play the hardest game of her life.
Beckham brought his lips down to hers. The kiss was short and soft and raw. Jarring enough to drag her back to earth. He brought his hand to her heart, where it beat steady.
“Just remember, I’m always right here.” He moved her hand up to his heart. “And you are always here.”
“Always,” she repeated.
He nodded. “Good. Showtime.”
A voice cleared behind them. They found Genevieve standing in the hallway that led to bedrooms. “Excuse me. Would you mind if I had a quick word with Reyna before you depart?”
“Of course,” Beckham said deferentially. “I’ll wait in the car.”
“I won’t be long.” Reyna crossed the room to where Genevieve was standing. “What’s going on?”
“I have been a vampire for a long time,” Genevieve said. “I was not long on Mr. Washington’s property before I was turned. He treated me with kindness and respect even before I became one of his kind. What you are doing today is what he always wanted.”
“I know,” Reyna said, choking back the sadness over his death. She couldn’t even believe it was possible. The man who avoided war found that it caught up to him after all.
“Believe me when I say I understand your need to even the score. I’m not sure I would have ever said this before Roger…died,” Genevieve choked on the word and Reyna squeezed her hand. “I know that William and Roger were close, but William never deserved his friendship. Roger gave everything to his research. He did everything he could to help William’s condition. And William truly was a wonderful man,” she said breathily, “until you had something he wanted. Andyouare now what he wants.” Genevieve grasped her hands. “Think first of yourself, dear. You have to make decisions that you can live with.”
“I know what I can live with.”
“Choose justice.” Genevieve’s hands tightened around hers, pressing into her palm. “Do the right thing when the time comes.”
Reyna closed her hand into a fist. “I will.”
“You reminded Roger so much of his Elisa. He’d only ever trust you with this.”
“I’ll make him proud.”
Genevieve nodded, releasing her. “I know you will.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
Reyna bounced from foot to foot in the back of the black van. Zoya had hooked it up with several video screens so they could see everything playing out. Nearly everyone was wired with a tiny camera and they broadcasted everything live. Anyone who wanted to see the realities of Visage now could. People had called Everett’s video propaganda, but they were listening after video of his murder was released and they were enraptured now that Elle broadcasted live for the first time ever.
