Chapter Two #2
She hadn’t had to ask why she needed the venom, though.
Harrington loved the sound of his own voice, and on the occasions when he graced her with his presence, he told her all about how the venom activated red blood cell regeneration and blah blah blah.
Normal humans regenerated a pint of blood every fifty-six days.
So, under normal circumstances, today would have been the first day that she could’ve given blood again after Beckham had drunk from her eight weeks ago.
With the vamp venom, usually acquired from a bite, she regenerated a pint of blood every three to four days.
She truly hated science right about now.
Reyna braced herself as the second needle went in without a hitch.
“Measure your breathing. This should be over soon,” the nurse said as she prepped to turn on the machine.
Then the latch clicked and Reyna’s eyes shot to the sliding door as it whizzed open. In walked her nightmare—Harrington.
“Ah, my little queen,” Harrington said in a chipper voice.
Reyna remained blank-faced at the stupid nickname. Reyna. Reign. Queen. Get it? So fucking original.
The days that Harrington showed up were the worst. The absolute worst. Her eyes flicked to the machine.
The nurse still hadn’t turned it on. Once the machine turned on, she had about ten minutes before the diluted venom would activate in her blood, making her as high as a kite.
Nothing as strong as the bite from Beckham, but it still hit her like a freight train before it ebbed off.
And she really wanted to be high and not have to deal with Harrington today.
“I heard that we had another nightmare,” he said, settling into the seat next to the chessboard. His eyes were on the game, but he spoke to her. “Want to talk about it?”
Ah, therapy. Just what the doctor ordered. Of course all she wanted to do was spill her deep, dark secrets to a murderous, psychopathic dictator.
“I forgot where I was,” she lied. It was her default answer.
He laughed and moved a piece into position. “It’s about time you remember where you are. So forgetful.”
His voice was light, but when she glanced up into his blue eyes, she saw the wicked evil underneath. The reason Harrington was on top was because he was both ruthless and a genius businessman. It was hard to forget it when he looked at her like that.
It didn’t help that her blood had changed him. Gone was the frail, sickly man she had first met. Harrington had had to walk with a cane he was so thin, pasty, and weak. Now he stood tall, back straight, eyes taking in the room. He still carried the cane, but she knew he didn’t need it.
“Now, on to why I’m here,” Harrington said. “I wanted to check in on my favorite resident.” Read: prisoner. “See how you’re doing and ensure you’re adjusting well to the new diet.”
“It’s fine,” she said. The machine was still off. “Are you going to turn that on?”
“In a minute,” Harrington said before he started rambling on about the latest articles on nutrition coming out of the scientific community and how it affected blood supply.
Reyna stared at the machine with a longing she hadn’t known she could feel.
It was in the moments when she had to hear Harrington’s voice that she wished suicide were an option.
If she didn’t value her own survival, she would have found a way to end her life long ago.
It would have made sense. Ending Harrington’s blood supply would endanger him.
It would hurt Visage. But when it came down to it, she hadn’t been able to do it.
Though if he said one more thing about fucking acaí berries, she might reconsider smashing her brain in with a free weight.
“Reyna, you seem absent today,” Harrington said. It was a warning.
“You haven’t turned on the machine.”
“It can wait a few minutes.”
“Whenever you’re ready, sir,” the nurse said.
Reyna shot her a look that said Whose side are you on? But it was a stupid question. The nurse worked for Visage. That’s whose side she was on.
“Explain to me where your head is.”
“Not caring about my diet,” she got out.
“And why not? I think it’s very important that you—”
“Stop,” Reyna told him. “Just stop it.”
He arched an eyebrow. She should have seen the warning in it, but she was beyond that. Between the dream and her isolation and the needles, she was losing it. She couldn’t hold it together today. She couldn’t sit here and have this murderous jackass lecture her on proper nutrition.
“What is this?” he asked, gesturing to her as if she were a strange specimen he couldn’t figure out.
“This is a human being. An actual human being. I’m not your science project.
I’m not even your blood bag. I am a human.
I live and breathe and feel, and right now I’m feeling pretty pissed.
So turn the machine on, because I’d like to get high in peace without you fucking ruining everything with your stupid fucking speeches. ”
“Reyna,” he growled low.
But she wasn’t finished. “And you know what, I can’t seem to care about anything. Definitely not about you and your goddamn diet or this fucking place or this fucking prison cell. I’m concentrating on surviving. On dealing with these fucking needles and not wanting to smash your fucking face in.”
“Sir, maybe we should give her the venom now,” the nurse said quickly.
“Leave it off,” Harrington snapped at the nurse.
The edge to his voice and the lethal cut of his eyes said that she’d gone too far. The nurse retreated. The machine stayed off.
Harrington stood, towering over her, and she shrank back in her seat. She knew a predator when she saw one. His physical presence was demanding enough, but it was the sadistic brain behind that mask that terrified her. That made her literally quake in her seat.
He reached forward and without preamble ripped out both of her IVs.