Vampire Debt - Supernatural Battle (Vampire Towers #2) - Kelly St. Clare Page 0,18
alighted her cool, blue gaze. “If you have a question for Kyros, perhaps you’ll have most success asking him.”
Yeah, you know I won’t do that.
If Kyros had fucked up yet again, he could come to me. If he hadn’t, that was still a win in my eyes.
“Could you join me for a moment?” she asked.
I gestured at my dripping clothing. “It can’t wait?”
“We won’t be more than a minute,” the vampire purred.
My brows climbed higher as she led me to the hot water closet to the left of reception.
Angelica shut the door to the closet, pulling the cord above to turn on the weak bulb.
“Any particular reason you’ve brought me to one of two soundproof locations in this tower?” I folded my arms.
“Never forget the nooks and crannies, Basilia,” she murmured.
And that means what? “You’re up to no good. The last few days were almost normal. Don’t screw that up if you can stand to keep your nose out of my business for three seconds strung together.”
She cut me a small scowl. “I wanted to give you this.” The blonde-haired, blue-eyed vampire pulled a grey device from her blazer pocket.
“…You wanted to give me a voice recorder?” The fuck?
She beamed, passing it over. “Exactly! I find them useful for taking notes. Right after client visits when everything is fresh. You’ve done so well, and with so much going in your life, I thought you deserved a gift.”
I turned the recorder over in my hands. “Thanks?”
“Don’t mention it,” she snarled.
Yikes, okay.
Angelica recovered her polite smile with eerie speed. “Best put it in your pocket, Miss Tetley. You wouldn’t want to lose it.”
This conversation had achieved first percentile strangeness. Holding the recorder, I studied my sopping clothes and elected to hold the gift.
“You purchased new clothes?” Angelica murmured, eyes dropping to my compost-stained ensemble.
“New clothes,” I grunted. “Sorry to put a kink in your matchmaking plans.”
“Never be sorry for kinking, Miss Tetley.”
Was that don’t apologise for doing what you have to advice? Or get yourself a harem stat advice?
She pushed open the closet door. “After you.”
“You’re seriously odd, Angie.”
The vampire’s lips twitched. “How about you call it a day? Go up and change. I’ll type up the notes on 9C Joker’s End.”
I groaned. “Mrs and Mrs Tilonia who own 9C Joker’s End. They’re women, people, not an address.”
Not receiving a response, I stomped to the elevator and added to the wet patch in the lift as I rode to Level 61.
By the time I stepped into the shower, I was shivering up a storm. “Stupid blood exchange.”
Since the last exchange, I was running cold. In Summer too. Maybe I should get some supplements or something. Iron? Usually, I drew from Truth Ranges for any medical situation, but funnily enough, they hadn’t covered what to do when a fanged monster drank from a person three times in a row.
Hopefully it wasn’t on tonight’s episode because I had some sleuthing to do.
Dressed in a form-hugging black knit dress, black tights, and chunky heels, I threw on a half-thigh length grey cardigan to complete the look. Digging into my Elegance pack for a hair tie, I pulled out the binoculars I’d purchased two days before and the master key I took from Angelica during my second thrall.
Gathering my long curls into a messy bun, I pulled out a few wispy tendrils to frame my face and then slid my thick-rimmed black glasses on.
Feeling cute. Check.
Time to flush this spy fucker out.
Bouncing across the bed to the nightstand, I reached for Beast—making sure not to disconnect him from the charger. He didn’t like when that happened.
Unfortunately, my mastermind plan necessitated some communication with Kyros.
I typed:
Flushing out spy tonight. Just go with what I say and don’t interfere.
I sent the message to Tommy knowing she’d never receive it.
Sure enough, the security screening message came through a minute later.
Waiting another minute, I called Angelica.
“Miss Tetley?”
“Angie, darling. I need Kyros’s number, please.”
“... Certainly.”
No questions asked. If there was a dedication award, Kyros’s aunt would have won it five times over by now.
I jotted down the numbers she rattled off on the new notepad I purchased at the same time as the binoculars.
Hanging up, I dialled Kyros. Tuning into his emotional compass, I scowled at the delicious coiling that furled within me at the mere thought of him.
“Basilia.”
My heart pounded at the rumbling depth of his voice. I was happy to hear it. What was more, he was happy I called.