But after touching her back, Beckham left the space between them vacant. She felt cold and empty without him, but she wouldn’t be the one to cross the line. Not after what had happened on the roof. Her nerves got the better of her and with each passing mile and turn of the car, she grew more anxious about where they were going. About a half hour later, the car started driving downward beneath the city.
The car finally came to a halt.
She was ready to pry off the blindfold herself and find out where she was. She had been turned around thirty minutes ago and had no hope of ever leading anyone to the underground location.
Beckham leaned toward her in the limo and tugged the blindfold from her face. She found herself staring into his dark eyes as she adjusted to the new light.
“We’re here,” he said.
“Where is here exactly?”
He shook his head. “It’s best if you leave all the talking to me.”
“Okay,” she said hesitantly.
“And I got you something.”
“What? Something else?”
He removed a black box from the inside of his jacket pocket and handed it to her. She took it in her hands in awe. A jewelry box. Who would have thought she would ever own a piece of jewelry that would warrant a black velvet box?
She pried the top open and stared down at the most beautiful silver bangle bracelet, in-laid with diamonds. The top was engraved with the words ANDERSON, O-. Her mouth was open and she couldn’t seem to recover herself. A diamond bracelet? She knew he was wealthy, but she never would have thought he would splurge on something like this for her.
Beckham slipped it on her wrist, where it sat cold against her skin. “Never take this off once you’re inside.”
“It shows that you’re with me. It will protect you.”
“From what?” Why was he always so worried that she would need protection?
That was another non-answer, but she at least trusted him to keep her safe. Even though the bracelet had something to do with the Vault, she relished in the feel of it against her wrist. She loved that it meant she was with him…even if it in some way meant she belonged to him.
“Are you ready?”
“As I’ll ever be.”
Beckham opened the door and assisted her out of the car. There was a door that blended in with the surrounding concrete, which opened at their approach. They entered a nearly pitch-black hallway. At the end was a small room with a giant vault door. Beckham passed a white card through a slot next to the door, and then a hand slipped them two similar cards.
“Welcome to the Vault,” a woman purred from the other side.
“What’s that?” Reyna asked, pointing at the cards.
“Participation cards. You won’t need yours.”
Reyna arched her eyebrow. “Why not?”
“Because you won’t be participating,” he growled low.
“Participating in what?”
“You’re about to find out.”
She looked up at him defiantly. “And what if I want to participate in whatever this is?”
Beckham grabbed her arm and tugged her close to him so they were nearly pressed together. “This bracelet says you’re mine, Little One. No one can get near you but me, and they would be a fool to do so. Now stop talking and let’s go inside.”
Reyna nodded despite her trepidation about what was to come. Their conversation made no sense to her—participation cards, bracelets that claimed her—she steeled herself for whatever she was about to witness.
The large handle on the door turned in circles and then pushed inward. When the door opened all the way, she was transported into another world and gasped in surprise.
“It’s a…sex club,” she whispered.
“A brothel actually,” Beckham said.
Reyna stared around the room in awe. The whole place was decorated in swathes of red, purple, and black. Divans covered with pillows littered the perimeter of the large open room. Tables were set up with dozens of plush chairs around them already occupied by attendees. Everything was centered around a stage with a large white bed on it.
She tore her eyes from the empty stage and to the patrons in the establishment. Many were pulling people into shadowed alcoves where they could do things she could only imagine. Bare-chested men in nothing but short tight black shorts carried around trays with cocktails and a little dropper filled with something as red as blood. She didn’t even want to know what that was for. Stark-naked women lay on buffet-style tables filled with all varieties of food. The irony wasn’t lost on her.
The patrons were all vampires dressed to the nines with lapdog humans on leashes and all forms of debauchery. Even though Reyna matched the general attire of most other women in the place, she felt out of her depth. In fact, most people wore less than she. But it was the feeling of power that reverberated throughout the room. Vampires had all of it, and the humans were subjugated to their desires. She shuddered at the thought.