Home > Blood Type (Blood Type #1)(6)

Blood Type (Blood Type #1)(6)
Author: K.A. Linde

Her heart sputtered.

“You live in the penthouse?” she gasped. “Who does that?”

“I do.”

That was it. Nothing more from him. He was clearly a man of few words.

The elevator shot them up so fast Reyna felt like she left her stomach behind on the first floor. Once she had finally righted herself, it slowed to a stop so high up that the people below looked like ants. The door dinged open on the top floor, directly into Beckham’s penthouse. She took one step forward out of the elevator and into an enormous room.

And what a room it was.

Reyna stumbled forward in a daze of luxury she couldn’t process. He owned an expansive living room with a large sectional couch and a television large enough to fill an entire wall. Gorgeous black-and-white photographs on canvas covered the otherwise empty walls. A massive stainless steel kitchen was off to the right. It appeared too clean for her to even walk into let alone anyone to cook in. Her eyes were drawn back to the living room and the panoramic view of the city looking out at Visage’s downtown building. It even had a balcony with an infinity pool and Jacuzzi.

Who would have guessed living with a vampire was like being surrounded by a slice of Heaven?

“Wow,” she breathed. “Your kitchen is bigger than my whole apartment.”

Then she cringed. She hadn’t meant to mention her home. She didn’t want Beckham to know anything about where she came from. Not that he seemed like the type to ask. But if this was her job, then she had no intention of mixing business and pleasure.

She covered her embarrassment by wandering farther into the living room. Her eyes were drawn to the photographs on the walls of the apartment. They showcased dark city landscapes; an up-close shot of a pretty woman drinking coffee at a café; a cloudy skyline; a view of a square block from on high; a collection of people walking down the streets, their faces and movements blurred; and on and on. All of them were mesmerizing. Such a dark and gloomy version of the city…yet still striking in its own way.

“I love these,” she said, her fingers running along the black frames.

When Beckham didn’t say anything, she turned back to him. He was staring down at his phone and completely ignoring her. She waited another minute for him to say something. Anything really.

Finally, he finished whatever he was doing and tucked his phone into the pocket of his suit. She felt his eyes on her and balled her hands into fists at her sides, determined not to look away again. She didn’t want to fear him.

“Well, this is my place. You’ll be staying here…indefinitely. So, get used to it.”

She wanted to laugh. Get used to it? Was he for real?

“I have some ground rules that I would like you to adhere to while you are living here.”

“Okay,” she said apprehensively.

“First, no outside guests of any kind at any time.”

“Wait, what? Really?” she asked in surprise. She couldn’t ever bring anyone to the new place she was living? That seemed unrealistic if she had to live here basically forever.

He glared at her. “Was I unclear?”

“No, but why can’t I bring anyone over?”

“I wasn’t aware that I needed to explain myself to you, Miss Carpenter. As your employer, you will follow my rules or you will leave empty-handed. Am I understood?”

She swallowed down her anger. Not that she had ever intended on bringing anyone else here. The only other people she knew were an hour drive from the city and didn’t have cars. But it would have been nice to have the option in case she made friends. Hopefully she’d make some friends…

“Yes. You’re understood,” Reyna said.

“Fantastic. Second, you must stay here every single night.”

Reyna furrowed her brows. “Where else would I stay?”

He crossed his arms stiffly and stared at her with an all-knowing look on his face. She blushed at the insinuation in that look. Oh, sex. Right.

“Do I have a curfew too?” she asked sarcastically.

He didn’t even justify that with an answer.

“Third, I want to be able to get ahold of you at all times. So, you will need this.” He produced a phone from his pocket and handed it over to her. It had a long shiny display and felt odd and clunky in her small hand. She’d never had one of these. Never even held one before.

“Um…how does it work?”

He sighed, exasperated, and showed her the basic mechanics of the phone. After a short introduction, she knew how to turn it on, make a phone call, send a text message, and access the Internet. What the hell she would do with all of these new functions was beyond her.

“You need to have this with you at all times. If I try to reach you and cannot get ahold of you, I will be very displeased,” he said.

By the look on his face, she gathered that displeased meant that once he found her, he would tear her apart limb from limb.

“Okay. Got it.” She slid the phone into her jean pocket. She hoped she remembered all of that.

“A few final things—your room is down the hall to the right.”

He pointed behind her.

“And where is yours?” she asked.

As soon as the words left her mouth, she wished she could take them back. She couldn’t believe she had just asked that. It made it seem like she was interested in being in his bedroom, which was not the case. She knew that some of the people who started working for Visage ended up giving up more than their blood, but she wasn’t here to have sex with anyone. She was here to give her blood and make some money.

That was it. She wasn’t a whore.

“My room is none of your concern, Miss Carpenter.”

“Of course,” she mumbled, looking away. “I didn’t mean…I just…never mind.”

“As I was saying, your room is down the hall. The refrigerator is completely stocked, but if there is something specific you like, you have access to my butler, who will get you anything you like.”

“I’m sorry…did you just say butler?”

“His line is programmed in your phone,” Beckham explained.

“So, really anything?”

“Within reason, of course. Now, that is all the time I have for you today. I must get back to work.” He turned and began walking away from her.

“Wait!” she called, reaching her hand out. When he turned and looked at her as if she were the biggest nuisance he had ever seen, she let her hand drop. “I just want to make sure I understand the rules. I can leave?”

Beckham raised an eyebrow. “So, eager to leave already?”

“No,” she said, taking a step backward at his look. “I just wanted to know if I was permitted to leave.”

She needed to see her brothers as soon as possible, but didn’t want to break any rules on the first day of her new…job.

“You are not my prisoner. You may come and go as you please, but as my house guest I do like to know where you are at all times. Just text me when you come and go.”

“Oh.” She breathed out softly.

“I’m paying a lot of money for you to be here. I don’t want to waste my investment,” he said plainly.

She shuddered at the word. It made her feel as cheap as the term whore. She was here as a feeder and nothing more. He didn’t even have the decency to hide the underlying humiliation of her purpose.

“Investment,” she repeated hollowly.

“Yes, Miss Carpenter. You are a very, very expensive investment,” he repeated harshly.

“I see. So, are we going to do this, then?” she spat.

Her anger flared and intensified immediately. She yanked her shirt aside at her throat and bared her neck. This was what she was here for, right? Forget the fancy penthouse, new cellphone, a refrigerator with enough food to feed her entire apartment complex back in the warehouses, her own room, or a butler. Plain and simple. She was food. She sustained him. If she was here to do a job, then she wanted to remind herself exactly why she was here. She couldn’t be blinded by the fancy place she had walked into. None of this was hers. She was here at the mercy of a vampire who could send her away for a replacement as easily as he could drain her dry. She refused to forget that again.

   
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