Chapter Twenty-One
Graves.
Reyna swallowed. It fit him perfectly. How many people had he put six feet under? If her time with other walking predators was any indication, the answer was many. Many, many, many…
“It’s my pleasure to have you here tonight. It was fortunate that I heard your request. I apologize for keeping you waiting,” Graves said. “I had other matters to attend to.”
Murder or fucking.
There didn’t seem to be an in-between for him.
“I see that you didn’t partake of my refreshments.” His eyes shot to the food and back. “Believe me when I say that if I wanted you dead, poison would hardly be my choice. I prefer something much more macabre.”
“Poison is hardly the only possibility,” Beckham said.
“I suppose you can never be too careful,” Graves responded, his eyes alight with humor at Beckham’s offense. He slid his hands out of his pockets to reveal that they were clad in black leather. Why would he need gloves inside?
Beckham crossed his arms. It was written in every line of his body that he wanted this over with. And something seemed to unspool in Graves at Beckham’s annoyance. As if he was finally getting started.
“And you,” Graves said, as he faced Reyna. “What did you fear from my tea?”
“Too much milk?”
A muscle feathered in his cheek. It was as if he was contemplating smiling.
He nodded his head once at her. “Humans.” He turned back to Beckham. “I see why you like this one.”
“Standing right here,” Reyna said.
Graves arched an eyebrow. “Indeed.”
“We’ve come with payment,” Beckham interjected. “Are you willing to answer our questions or not?”
“Ah, straight down to business. Vampires always seem to despise the pleasantries,” Graves said as if Beckham’s behavior hardly registered on his radar.
“Pleasantries drag out negotiations.”
“Are we negotiating?” Graves toyed. That hint of a smile playing at his features again.
“We should start,” Beckham said impatiently.
“We didn’t come to bother you,” Reyna said. She took a step forward between the two men—monsters. “We were told that you had information that we needed about William Harrington. If you can help us, we would appreciate it. So, can you help us?”
“I can,” he said.
Graves towered over her. He was eye level with Beckham if not slightly taller. He stepped around her body, his moody gray eyes considering her from every angle as he made a leisurely circle.
She stiffened at his nearness. Why was he looking at her like that? Was he purposely trying to provoke Beckham? Because she was certain at any moment he would come barreling into Graves’s side. She didn’t dare glance at Beckham, but she could feel his anger unfurling from him like wings.
“And what will you give me for my help?” Graves’s voice slithered over her skin, crawling over her until she had to grit her teeth. Graves met her gaze and nodded once. “You have brought me something rather interesting?”
Beckham was steeling himself and his voice had regained its composure when he spoke. “We’ve brought payment.”
“Wonderful.” Graves strode away from them and, seemingly at random, lifted a book into his gloved hand.
She wondered why he wore them inside. Everything else about him made him seem like a worldly gentleman, but the gloves didn’t fit.
He flipped to a page near the center and scribbled something in the margins. “Please sign here and here.”
He offered the book to Beckham, who asked, “What’s this?”
“Confirmation of payment. A receipt, if you will.”
“No contract?”
“You will give to me that which I desire of your own free will,” Graves said. “I haven’t had to force anyone yet.”
The way he glanced up at Reyna with that smirk on his lips said that perhaps he was not being entirely truthful. He wasn’t forcing anyone, but there was more than pen and paper that was happening here. She didn’t know what exactly she was expecting, what it was she was looking at.
“And what will this sign away?”
“You will speak of this to no one,” Graves said.
“Fine,” Beckham growled, as he vacillated before putting pen to paper. He clearly didn’t want to put his signature in Graves’s book. To leave behind a record of their presence here. But it didn’t seem like Graves would let them off the hook otherwise. So Beckham signed.
“Thank you,” Graves said, turning to Reyna. “And you, my dear.”
Reyna took the pen in a shaky hand. Beckham’s signature was one of a dozen on the ledger. Not a single name was recognizable. It wasn’t as if Harrington had been here and Graves would let them know. She sighed softly and then scribbled her name on the line.
The signature felt heavy. As if she had not just signed with ink but with blood. Like the weight of that signature was more than just her good word.
“Is it the signature that’s important?”
Graves tilted his head at her. “No,” he said slowly. “Did you feel something?”
She shook her hand out. “Maybe.”
It had felt like…magic.
But magic didn’t exist.
“Interesting,” he said as he flexed his gloves. He looked as if he had more questions and was keen on asking them of Reyna, but then he decided against it. He snapped the book shut with a flourish and tucked it under his arm. “Now payment. You were informed of what I require.”
“Yes. I’ve brought you the diamonds of the Lady Charisma. Before I became a vampire lord of the city, I toppled several other cities along the way. A domino effect, if you will.”
“I’m well acquainted with your exploits,” Graves said in a crisp, bored tone.
“This was my first conquest. My very first spoil of the war that I started.”
“Hmm,” Graves murmured. He gestured to Reyna. “And this is the necklace?”
“Yes.”
“Gaudy thing.”
Beckham bristled. “It’s worth a king’s ransom.”
Graves replaced the book on the table before returning to Reyna’s side. He seemed unconcerned with the worth of the diamond necklace or really with Beckham at all. He had his hands back in his pockets and he stood less than a foot from Reyna, staring intently at the jewelry.
“May I?” he asked Reyna.
“I can remove it,” Beckham interjected.
“Now, what would be the fun in that?” he muttered under his breath. Then louder for Beckham’s benefit. “Lift your hair.”
Her eyes found Beckham’s as she gently lifted her dark hair off her shoulders and held it to the side.
Through his eyes, she could see the torment raging in him.
How much he wished they hadn’t come here.
Neither of them had anticipated someone like Graves.
Vampires were used to being the highest rung on the ladder.
She didn’t like finding out there was something more dangerous out there.
Graves examined the necklace with delicate fondness.
Then he slowly, purposefully removed his black leather gloves.
Reyna tensed at the deliberateness of the move and inhaled as his hands moved to either side of the diamond choker.
The pads of his fingers skimmed the section around her neck, moved to the hollow of her throat, before slowly dragging down the V of the necklace.
A finger circling each diamond as he dragged his way to the one dangling between her breasts, stopping just above.
“Yes, I think this will do,” Graves said.
His hand moved back up the necklace, and he shifted around to stand behind her. Beckham’s chest was rising and falling heavily. His hands were balled into tight fists. She could see that Graves wanted to toy with them, but she didn’t understand why.
Then his finger touched her.
She couldn’t suppress her gasp. Barely a touch—just his index finger against her shoulder blade drawing a line across her back to the clasp on the choker.
And suddenly her cheeks were aflame, her body flushed, her heart beating furiously.
Just one touch had made her skin tingle and her knees threatened to buckle.
If the signature had felt like magic, it was nothing compared to this. She had so many questions running through her mind and yet…she could do nothing but stand there.
“Ah,” Graves said behind her. “I see.”
“What the fuck do you see?” Beckham seethed.
Graves carefully unclasped the necklace and removed it from her neck.
He took a step back and finally she was able to breathe regularly again.
She dropped her hair down her back, feeling utterly exposed to him.
It was as if one touch had bared her soul to him.
It was unfathomable, of course. He hadn’t done anything.
But it was as if he had stuck his hand straight through her and rifled through all the locked drawers in her mind.
And the only person she was comfortable letting inside was Beckham.
She was starting to wonder if coming here had been a big mistake.
He might be able to help, but the cost felt greater than any necklace.
Graves tossed the priceless jewels next to his book on the table as if it meant nothing to him, then carefully pulled his gloves back on.
“What did you do to me?” Reyna gasped out.
“I took your payment.”
“I don’t have anything to give.”
“True. Material possessions. It is a good thing for your sake that I don’t only deal in the material.”
She furrowed her brow. “What does that mean?”
But a shiver ran through her at the words. Because she did sort of understand them. She had felt something different at his touch. As if he had taken something from her. But that had just been metaphor, right?
Graves chanced a glance at her and this time he did smile. Perhaps it was supposed to be intimidating, but it softened him slightly. Yes, a villain but it was as if he was letting her in on a secret. “You felt it.”
“I…” Her hand went to her throat.
But it was Beckham who interrupted. “Are you going to answer our questions now or do you intend to keep putting your hands on my girlfriend?”
“Girlfriend.” Graves frowned, sending his features into shadows. “Such an interesting term you picked.”
“The term wasn’t the point.”
“I thought you’d prefer to go with blood match. Or perhaps soul mate.”