Death Game: Supernatural Battle (Vampire Towers #3) - Kelly St. Clare Page 0,20
a long time. “Then she has lost a great treasure.”
“Pretty sure it’s the other way around,” I said in a hollow voice.
He didn’t speak for the rest of the ride, dropping me in the garage and waiting until I was in the elevator to leave again. What a fucking joke. I wished I could wrap my hands around King Mikael’s neck. Kyros wanted to pretend this didn’t affect him, fine. I knew otherwise.
The current dissipated to bearable levels as the lift shot up. Thank Zeus. A day in his company had me aching in the worst possible way. I took a steadying breath, recalling the way I came undone in my wardrobe.
There was another hour until the dice were rolled. I’d spend the time catching up on the last few weeks with Conrad, Ilion, and Danielle—three of Kyros’s seconds. They’d be eating their lunch on Level 50.
“Miss Le Spyre.” Ilion greeted me when I entered the cafeteria. He was my favourite of the seconds—reminded me of Fred with his watchful ways.
I shrugged out of my jacket and swung it over the back of the chair. I tended to sit at the front of the room closest to the elevators to avoid Vissimo overload, but the seconds sat right in the middle of the hundreds of round tables and being around bulk vampires bothered me less and less.
“Hey, Ilion. Thanks for meeting with me. Probably best I catch up before tonight.”
“Danielle and Conrad will be along presently,” he replied. “Can I extend my sincerest relief that you are recovered from your ordeal?”
He made it sound like I’d bounced back from a sprained ankle. “Thank you. I appreciate that.” I opened a notepad. “Okay, what properties has Fyrlia acquired in the last week?”
Ilion tapped on his tablet. “It isn’t good.”
My face fell. “How bad are we talking?”
He glanced around the level and lifted his tablet, reciting the list. The list went on and on. In comparison, Sundulus’s acquisitions were pitiful. He moved through changes in each of the industries. Though the results weren’t as drastic as in the realty sector, Fyrlia had increased across the board.
“The thing is their purchase prices,” he muttered. “They’re throwing money at these properties. Everywhere, really.”
I knew why. “That doesn’t make any sense.”
“It does if they feel they’re about to win,” he said quietly. “Our efforts to stall the Ringly development are proving ineffective. If our forecasters are right, we have a matter of weeks to turn this around.”
Shock found me. Then anger. Kyros had grossly underplayed how dire things were. He’d slipped in a worst-case scenario comment off the cuff and then used the listening Indebted as an excuse.
I mean, of course I’d known Fyrlia would swing the game as soon as possible with the information I’d imparted. “So what’s the game plan?”
Ilion sighed. “Kyros is investigating the legitimacy of the council documents surrounding approval of Mr Ringly’s DA. We already ran through the documents, but the royal family is certain something there is amiss. Other than that, Prince Rory has approved a doubled budget across the board.”
Ilion and the other seconds had no idea about the bluff. I wasn’t sure if I should be bothered that Kyros and I had the same thought to investigate the DA.
Danielle and Conrad joined us, and we settled into a more in-depth discussion of how the game board was stacked. By the time the Vissimo around me filtered upstairs in preparation of the roll, I was exhausted and my real shift hadn’t begun.
“Thank you,” I told them wearily. “That helps a lot.”
Conrad rested a hand on my shoulder. “We’ll figure it out, Miss Le Spyre.”
Considering he wasn’t a big fan of mine, I appreciated the reassurance.
We entered the lift, a group of minions scrambling out when Ilion growled.
Just as the doors began to close, Angelica slipped in.
She smiled at me.
Fuck. “Whatever shit news you’re delivering, get it over with,” I told her flatly.
Her smile widened, and she held out the dark-green envelope in her hand. There was a gold wax seal on it.
FA.
Fuck All. Or Francesca Atagio.
Maybe both.
“Do I want to open this?” I muttered.
“Probably not.”
Snorting, I slipped my finger under the seal and pried it apart, sliding out the thick paper.
It contained the details of the fashion show. Next Sunday, nine days away.
Ugh.
Danielle took the invitation when I held it out.
“Kyros’s siblings are going to kill me one day,” I told them.
“If they didn’t accept you, they wouldn’t bother,” Danielle replied, her lips twitching.