Vampire Debt - Supernatural Battle (Vampire Towers #2) - Kelly St. Clare Page 0,11
with her matchmaking efforts.
She hummed. “I’ll keep it in mind. Could you come up to Level 66?”
I groaned. “Humans sleep during the night.”
“You told me once that you were a night owl.”
“Your ability to selectively listen is incredible.”
“One of our team leaders had an idea. We need to discuss it with you before presenting the idea to King Julius for approval at 3:30 a.m. It’s important.”
They thought it was important. All because two kings couldn’t agree who’d knocked up a queen one hundred and fifty years ago. I found it hard to get worked up over that.
“You can’t ask me over the phone?” I tried once more.
Silence.
Grumbling, I shuffled off the bed. “For the record, I’m not okay with this.”
I hung up, glancing down at the fluffy rabbit onesie I’d purchased yesterday and worn to bed.
The movie date with Lalitta had morphed into a late-night shopping trip. After my money woes and the run-in with Clint, I ironically had nearly seventy thousand dollars from house commissions—the house in Black had bumped me up big time. I supposed it was extra ironic that I considered that a huge amount of money now, what with being in possession of a multi-billion-dollar estate.
I hadn’t dared to buy anything—except materials for the décor pinecones—since screwing up so grandly during my first week. But the urge to no longer feel like a white-and-royal-blue wearing trophy wife had spurred me to flush several thousand dollars down the drain. The trip yielded a rack of clothing in every colour but white and royal blue.
And a rabbit onesie.
Oh well. I wasn’t changing for anyone, let alone those bastards.
Swiping my card key off the bedside table, I set off for Level 66.
Beast was flashing red. He was either about to explode, die, or he had something to tell me.
I read the message from Tommy as I stepped onto the elevator:
How are you doing after the funeral?
After the funeral.
Her wording was intentional, a reminder about the fresh parameters of our tattered friendship. Losing Tommy would be one of the worst fuck-ups of my life—something I’d regret forever. I’d known that before cutting the ties between us. Except I was beginning to realise, I may not survive this storm without her.
When I lost my parents, I was surrounded by love and had the blissful resilience of youth on my side. I’d now lost my grandmother, and my appetite had faded to null again. The most substantial meal I’d had was popcorn at the movies last night.
I wasn’t coping.
The elevator shot up as I typed out a vague reply that would pass through the security measures—otherwise known as Kyros’s possessiveness—on Beast.
Getting by, thanks <3
How are you and your dad doing? <3 <3
Ding!
I hit Send and stepped off the lift, opened Snake as I weaved between the monitors and frantically typing Vissimo toward the glass room I’d once seen Kyros leave.
The top level of the tower was circular. Glass rooms occupied the outer perimeter while standing desks and monitors filled the rest of the floor space in uniform rows. The only break in pattern was a huge glass tube currently out of sight. That’s where the dice roll was streamed each night.
I circled the snake around on the screen to collect another brick.
Yesss!
Fernando, one of the Indebted, said he’d reached a high score of 2300. I hadn’t come within an eighth of that yet. I really did have a long way to go before I could call myself Snake Master.
Beast flew from my hand as I bounced off a Vissimo. The archaic phone slid across the ground.
Game over.
The female vampire gasped, blurring to pick up the phone.
“Miss Tetley, I didn’t see you,” the vampire rushed to say, bowing three times before I could blink once.
Taking the phone, I clicked the middle green button. The screen flared to life. Beast was still in working order. Thus, Snake could still be played.
“Don’t worry about it,” I replied. “I walk into people, too, sometimes—and nothing can kill phones from the 90s.” Or whenever this hunk of crap was from.
Relief flooded her face. “Thank you.”
Jesus. She needed a holiday.
I tucked Beast away in a front pocket of my rabbit onesie and side-stepped the drop-dead gorgeous woman.
“Is she wearing a rabbit onesuit?”
“They’re called onesies, idiot.”
Great. I’d found them. Their voices floating out of the glass room.
“I think it’s adorable.”
“I wouldn’t be caught dead in that.”
The sooner I could hear about this plan, the sooner I could get back to bed. To play Snake.