Vampire Debt - Supernatural Battle (Vampire Towers #2) - Kelly St. Clare Page 0,40

the leasing of rentals.

In twenty-seven years, Agatha Le Spyre had privately purchased and currently leased thousands of properties here. Only the estate was under our real name. Unlike Clan Sundulus, my grandmother ironically operated under a totally, totally illegal system. Fake identifications, banks, and tax accounts. Money laundering.

“Shit.” I choked on a laugh, taking a sip and tipping back my head so the wine trickled past my taste buds.

In the hours I’d spent gazing at the copy of Tom Hanks’s autobiography, aka the entrance to her mastermind cave, I’d ascertained several things.

One, I’d continue my grandmother’s work without hesitation.

Two, my grandmother hadn’t known the extent of my blood ties to Kyros.

Three, that the major weakness to her plan wasn’t lack of money—not even close—but lack of intel.

She hadn’t known what the clan’s movements and plans were from day-to-day. She’d purchased an average of 325 properties each year for the better part of thirty years, starting slow and gradually accelerating her efforts to thwart the vampires. But she’d had to guess their strategy. Having personally seen how intricate their strategies were, I knew for a fact guessing would be near impossible.

Yet, to win, I wasn’t sure a defensive strategy would work. Surely an offense, to hinder the other player’s movements, was necessary too.

“We aren’t restricted by rules,” I murmured over the rim of my glass. We didn’t need to purchase properties on a certain day or to sign contracts purely on our roll. That opened the board dramatically.

“The number of properties not owned by either us or the clans are dwindling, Basilia. They will dig deeper into privately-owned properties, trying to figure out the puzzle. They cannot be allowed to discover the truth. Trust my inner circle of friends. Trust the butler. But trust few others unless you can be sure they will hold the lives of those around you with equal solemnity. Fight for our legacy, Basilia. Go forth with the courage I have seen in you since birth. Go with my forever love, Basilia, and my sincerest apologies.”

I knocked back the rest of my wine and reached forward to fill it again.

“Pocketful of Sunshine” blared from my back pocket. I put Tommy on speaker. “Awake at last.”

“Where are you?”

“In the office. Sorry I got caught up with business stuff. I’m drinking wine now. Wanna join?”

Her breath caught. “Like the office on the other end of the house?”

She’d have to leave the room sometime. Her behaviour was going to raise difficult questions if she didn’t suck it up. Harsh as that was.

“That’s the one. See you soon? We have some catching up to do.”

Remembering that I wasn’t speaking into Beast, I exited the call screen and tapped out a quick message:

The office is soundproof <3

None of the vampires here will hurt you. I swear it.

They’re the good ones <3 <3

There was a chime on her end. Then silence.

“I’ll see you in a bit,” she mumbled.

That’s my girl.

“Will do. And text your dad to tell him you’re okay.”

The line disconnected and I tossed the phone on the chaise next to me. Shoot.

I had a whole heap of decisions to make. Fast. There were fifty emails in the Ingenium inbox to catch up on. A team to introduce myself to. Modifications to the strategy to brainstorm and implement. And the legal face of the estate to manage on top of that.

My mind whirled… though not with dread. The challenge excited me. Not because of the game. For what I could get back by playing it. My dignity, for starters. And if one of the clans did kill my grandmother, then her plea for me to move on without seeking revenge would be ignored. I wasn’t as classy as Agatha Le Spyre and perfectly fine undertaking a trashy vendetta.

Did a part of me mourn the entire situation?

Absolutely.

My grandmother’s part in it. The strain that nearly three decades of this must have placed on her life. Yes, I’d left this estate because of rich games, and now was actively choosing to play a far worse game. That did feel like a sacrifice to who I’d been.

But it felt right. Good.

Tommy slid in, slamming the door shut behind her.

I crossed and pushed the button at the back of the third shelf. Each time the door was opened, the noise-proof seal broke.

My ears popped. “Alright. No one can hear us. Go wild.”

Her eyes flared as she sucked in a massive breath, shaking her hands. “Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god. That was the