Death Game: Supernatural Battle (Vampire Towers #3) - Kelly St. Clare Page 0,60
recall something we’d discussed the day before.”
I brought her into this world, and she’d been used by three guys. Raped.
“Tom,” I said, my voice breaking. “I am so sorry for bringing you into this. I should have been stronger and kept pushing you away. I’m just so fucking sorry.”
She cut off my babbling apology. “You said yourself that Theodore approached me before you knew about vampires. Your position in the tower—the mating thing with Kyros—drove him to hurt me in that specific way, perhaps. But he—they—were always going to use and hurt me in some way. You had nothing to do with how they treated me, apart from being my friend. And that’s not a burden you’re allowed to take on.”
Being the poor friend of a rich woman had consequences that Tommy occasionally struggled with, but it never should have led to this. But maybe I shouldn’t blame myself entirely for the actions of a supernatural race I hadn’t known existed until recently.
I rubbed my nose. “I hate when you’re logical. Let me feel like shit.”
“Whatever. That’s a cop-out. You just had three days of sex that turned you into superwoman. I’m miserable. Your mission is to pretend the shit out of happiness, so I can continue to wallow.”
I snorted. “Pretend the shit out of happiness. What have you been watching?”
“Truth Ranges. I wouldn’t need to explain that quote to you if you were a real fan.”
“Take that back.”
“Nope,” she declared.
Standing, Tommy held out her hand. “Come on. Let Fred cover estate jobs today. You’re mine until midnight.”
I slapped my hand into hers, and she reeled away, clutching it.
“Fucker!” she hissed.
Shooting to my feet, my eyes and ears weren’t ready for my new speed. I sprawled across the low table, whacking my hands down as I tumbled over it and landed on the carpet.
I groaned, rolling onto my back to glare at Tommy.
Her shoulders shook as she nursed her hand. “Don’t glare at me, I didn’t make you do that. But I’m so glad you did.”
She tipped back her head and laughed, tears streaming over her cheeks.
Scowling, I clambered to my feet, dusting myself off. Apparently I needed to practice using my senses with the new additions to my body.
“Change of plan,” Tommy announced, taking my hand. “Let’s go to the nut orchard and figure out how to manage your superpowers.”
Baby powers, more like it.
I pursed my lips. “Maybe that’s a good idea.”
16
I stared at the latest Ingenium forecast.
Eighteen days.
That’s how long Clan Sundulus had until Fyrlia triggered the end cascade. They’d purchased two properties in Black yesterday for astronomical prices.
They sensed the kill. They were hunting their enemy—cornering them.
I had to move without delay. Yes, I’d hoped to do this without Sandra being compelled, but I’d also been stalling for personal reasons.
I couldn’t lose these people.
“Basilia? Your thoughts?” Rory broke my reverie.
I jumped and stared around the table. It was Friday and Kyros had returned from King Mikael’s side just after one. The others were here. “On what?”
“On investigating their finances,” he snarled, fangs descending. “They’re throwing ridiculous sums of money into every industry.”
I lifted a shoulder. “So would I if I sensed the kill.”
No one reacted to the statement.
Kyros was quiet.
Whatever Mikael and the Fyrlia royals were doing to him during the Friday get-togethers, it was taking a toll. I knew for a fact he wouldn’t fill me in, but for now, I was just satisfied with his contentedness when we were in close quarters.
And that’s why I had to do this. The thought of him never forgiving me was unbearable, where it never had been before. If I let my lie go any further, that was the risk.
I drew in a breath, settling at his earthy scent.
“What’s the final plan?” I glanced at my phone. The call with King Julius was in five minutes.
Lalitta’s gaze was fixed on the table. Rory looked murderous. Gerome grinned so tightly I thought his lips may snap off. Safina had her arm around Francesca. Neelan was still. Lionel watched everyone else, sadness in his eyes.
Fuck it all.
No amount of research was going to confirm what Sandra’s fate would be. I was talking to business owners. A deal could be negotiated. That was my only option.
She’d emailed this morning asking for more funds and an update. The worry in her short message was clear. Dragging this out wasn’t fair for anyone.
Time to come clean.
Panic pulsed through me.
Clearing my throat, I said, “I’ve found something.”