The last time Reyna had come face-to-face with her, she’d been smartly locked away where she couldn’t hurt anyone but herself. She’d been uncontrollable. She was still the only other vampire who had ever bitten Reyna.
Reyna felt her muscles freeze as she stared up at Bronwyn from where she’d landed on the floor.
“Fuck,” Beckham spat into the earpiece.
Oh shit.
Beckham hadn’t seen his sister in fifteen years. He’d mourned her death. He’d hated himself for what he’d done to her. Now here she was. And his first look at her was through the camera attached to Reyna, on a tiny screen in an SUV. She felt his emotions like a roller coaster through his controlled exterior.
He was wrath.
He was regret.
He was vengeance.
He was murder.
Reyna shuddered under the weight of his emotions. How much he wanted to rush in and murder Harrington for what he was doing to Bronwyn. For using her again. For letting her out. For hiding her from him.
“Don’t,” Reyna gasped. “Please don’t.”
She was speaking to Beckham through the earpiece, but it was Bronwyn who heard her.
“Oh my pet”—Bronwyn lifted Reyna’s chin up at a sharp angle—“we meet again.”
The same danger that Reyna had witnessed in her eyes the first time they met hadn’t lessened an ounce. Why wasn’t shecontained? She was a danger to everyone around her.
A shudder ran through Bronwyn. “Don’t like the smell.”
She took a step back and snarled. Her head whipped to the side, and she grabbed onto a metal table, and her nails dug points into it as if it were aluminum.
“So wrong,” she spat. “Yellow and purple and the stars are listening.”
She teetered from foot to foot a second before grasping Reyna by the front of her T-shirt. Bronwyn glanced at it and grinned like a cat.
“L. L. L,”she singsonged. “All wrapped in a bow.”
Reyna had momentarily forgotten that they’d spray-painted the Elle logo onto her shirt, a cursiveLin yellow with a circle around it. Her jacket had fallen open when she’d been dragged up the stairs and now it was visible.
“Bronwyn, please, I know that you’re in there.”
But she had retreated back into whatever place was trapped in her brain. “Up!” she shouted.
“Please,” Reyna begged.
Bronwyn flashed her fangs and then grabbed Reyna roughly by the shoulders. She hoisted her off of her feet and then dropped her back down, jarring Reyna’s teeth. Beckham cursed violently in her ear, a constant stream of profanity and anger. She prayed that he didn’t react exactly how Harrington wanted him to. That he didn’t come barreling in here and confront Bronwyn.
Bronwyn hummed a nursery rhyme to herself as she patted Reyna down. “Don’t need these,” she said as she discarded two knives strapped to Reyna’s forearms.
She found a third blade holstered down her back, then the two guns attached to her thighs, and a lock pick in her pocket. Bronwyn casually tossed the items into a container. Then continued her perusal.
“Oh bad toy. Bad, bad toy.” Bronwyn found the earpiece,popped it out of its place, and then smashed it under her foot. “No other toys allowed.”
Reyna blew out slowly. It was okay. She hadn’t thought that they’d let her keep the earpiece. It’d been nice while it lasted.
Then Bronwyn ran her hand over the video camera. It met the same fate. Finally she found another smaller knife in her boot and a tracker. Reyna winced at the loss of that. Not that she wasn’t a beacon already for Beckham, but they’d hoped that would be of value if they took her too far away.
Too late now.
