Free Edie Spence (Book 5): Bloodshifted by Cassie Alexander

he’d hung up to speak.
    “You do this every night?”
    “No—most of the people go home happy with strange hangovers they can’t quite explain, and feel strangely exhausted the next day. They stumble out of the Catacombs on their own two feet—some of them even come back the next night. But our Masters live on blood, and it’s either them, or donors—which we have precious few of right now, thanks to Natasha—or us.”
    He got back into the car, and I took the seat beside him this time. He kept speaking while he disassembled the cell phone. “I doubt they’ll be here soon, but the system works. He’s young, and if he’s managed to hold on this long, he’ll make it a few more hours.” I was surprised when he turned the ignition key and slid the car into drive.
    “Aren’t we staying here? To make sure he’s safe?”
    “Can’t be seen.”
    “But—”
    “Edie, no matter your relationship with the Beast, you’re a good person, I can tell.” He pulled out and hit the gas. “I really like you. But in the Catacombs, having a heart is an expense you can’t afford.” When we hit the highway, he rolled down the window and flicked out the phone’s sim card onto the asphalt like so much cigarette ash.

CHAPTER EIGHT
    Looking out the window, I realized I’d been so involved in being worried about the boy that I’d missed my chance to run.
    I already knew all the reasons why running would be a bad idea, and none of them had changed since I’d thought about them last. I reached for the door, for the window switch—and found it locked. Go figure. Jackson snorted and released it with a button on his door, and I set the window down a few inches so I could feel the night breeze. Los Angeles’s air was much drier than Port Cavell’s. We were cruising past what I assumed was downtown, where old roads that hadn’t been built for such a big city were looped over one another like concrete shoelaces.
    “I’m sorry. I know your last twenty-four hours have been rough.” He sounded sincere.
    “You could say that.” I brushed my hands through my hair. If this was my safe chance to ask him questions I needed to hurry up. “So why did Anna save you?” he asked—and I realized I wasn’t the only one in a querulous mood.
    “We’re friends.”
    “Friends,” he repeated, like he didn’t believe me. I shrugged.
    “She moved heaven and earth to get blood for you. She warned it might take a lot. Many of the Houses were unwilling to risk it. If you give blood to someone, and you can’t cure them or bring them over, then you have to take that blood back … and Anna said if anyone killed you, they’d die.” He looked at me out of the corner of his eye. “You’re sure you’re not related somehow? Distantly?”
    “No.” I plucked at the elastic edge of my skirt. I’d saved Anna’s life twice. The first time was after I’d accidentally killed her sickly guardian at work. With his dying breath, he’d asked me to find her—and I’d found her chained up and being abused, and saved her when he couldn’t.
    The second time wasn’t so much a saving as just being willing to go back. I didn’t run away from her when I could have—when I probably should have, since it might have saved me from getting stabbed. But I tried to save her and proved that someone cared, and that had been enough. She’d saved herself in the end, breaking free from the other vampires who’d chained her, but she might not have done it without me being willing to risk my own life for her first. There was no good way to put all that into words, and I didn’t think it was a good idea to share it with Jackson besides.
    “Do you know what she’s been up to while you’ve been apart?”
    I frowned. “I heard you all call her the Beast last night.”
    “Yeah. Other names for her haven’t been quite so kind. She’s consolidating her power. Either Houses and Thrones pledge to her and take her blood—so she knows where they are at all