Vampire Debt - Supernatural Battle (Vampire Towers #2) - Kelly St. Clare Page 0,33

or compulsion on her mind. Surely she’d be safer for knowing Vissimo existed in the long run.

I tightened my hold on her. “Yes. We will.”

A knock sounded.

“Who disturbs my reverie?” I boomed.

“Fred, Miss Le Spyre.”

I pulled away from Tom and fixed her with a look. “Did you hear the end of the recording?” It was crucial she understood the very real danger the vampire presented.

Her bottom lip trembled. “Yep. I heard.”

“You can never, ever speak of what you know outside of this room? Not to your father, not to your future penis, not to brats you spawn. You never know when they might be listening.”

She narrowed her gaze. “Was the woman speaking in fucking Icelandic? I understand.”

Fuck me. Her emotions were bouncing faster than a rubber ball in a concrete room.

“Come in,” I called.

He pulled the heavy doors open but lingered on the threshold. “I’ve come at a bad time.”

Tommy dropped her head into her hands, wailing and hiccupping.

I dragged my gaze from her to the butler. “Long overdue reunion.”

“I see.”

Tommy’s sobbing swelled, and I winced.

Fred kept his polite gaze trained on me. “Is there anything I can procure for Miss Tommy to make her feel better?”

“Tequila,” she choked out.

Couldn’t judge her for that.

The butler bowed, glancing my way. “I’m afraid we are fresh out of tequila, Miss Tommy. I will send someone to replenish our stocks, and in the meantime—”

Tommy wiped her nose on her sleeve. “J?germeister?”

Ew.

“At once,” he replied.

He met my gaze again, hesitating.

I smiled. “Is there something else?”

He recovered, shaking his head. “Nothing that can’t wait, Miss Le Spyre. Do you require anything else?”

There was an entire list of things I required, top of that list being some way to sever the connection between Kyros and me. Could the butler do that?

Tommy slid onto the floor and began crawling to the decanters.

I cleared my throat. “Yes, Fred. Please set up the movie projector in my suite. We’ll need to watch musicals for the rest of the day.”

Across the room, Tommy pulled herself up, draping herself along the mantle as she reached for the brandy.

Shit.

“Better have some cheeseburger pizza and mint ice cream whipped up too,” I added, hurrying to intercept her.

He bowed. “As you say, Miss Le Spyre.”

This was going to be a long-ass day. I blew out a breath, knowing I should feel bad. Terrible, really. I’d completely undone my friend—for life.

But Tommy was back with me despite all odds. I had my best friend again, for better or worse. Call me soulless, call me the worst fucking friend in the world, but finally, something had gone my way.

And damned if I was going to let anybody take that away from me.

Sleeping was hard without tequila. Really fucking hard.

So the rap at my door didn’t drag me from slumber whatsoever.

I froze, lifting my head, but Tommy didn’t stir on the bed next to me. Thank the powers for small mercies.

I untangled myself from the duvet, the pleading voices of Sandy and Danny in Grease winding through my lounge from the projector.

Cracking open the entrance, I squinted at Fred in the dimly lit hall.

“Miss Le—”

I held a finger to my lips.

Sidling out, I drew the door closed. “She’s asleep. I don’t want to wake her.”

“Forgive the intrusion. Is Miss Tommy well?”

Nope.

“She’ll get there. Did you get the medical certificate to her boss?” I answered.

“Yes. I took the liberty of letting Mr Tetley know she was safe and cared for too.”

I’d called the stable master to say Tommy and I were working through a few things and she was staying with me for a while. “Thank you. Does something else require my attention?”

Hesitation flickered on his lined face before his features hardened. “I had hoped to wait until Miss Tommy was better, but four days have passed.”

Tell me about it.

Tommy was rocking this mental breakdown hard. I’d listened to back-to-back musicals for over one hundred hours. Around the thirty-six-hour mark, Tommy decided she really liked My Fair Lady. If I had to listen to “The Rain in Spain” one more time I’d lose the plot.

Again.

I pressed my ear against the door, listening. Nothing. Maybe she’d finally passed out instead of jolting awake every hour.

“We’re good for a bit.” I straightened.

He stepped back. “This way, please, Miss Le Spyre.”

I frowned at his tone. “Something is really wrong?”

“The cameras picked up a group lurking close by. Daniel rerouted some of the cameras to the roads and properties surrounding the estate. It appears the lurkers retreat during the day, creeping closer