Vampire Debt - Supernatural Battle (Vampire Towers #2) - Kelly St. Clare Page 0,53
door and demanding answers so I could seduce the suit pants off of him. “I don’t think so, but I’m not keeping them.”
She snarled. “Fucker thinks he can buy you back with bullshit trinkets?”
Sadness and amusement warred for first place. In the background of my mind, I could feel Kyros. Awake and frustrated. “Yeah. As a Le Spyre, I don’t have nearly enough trinkets.”
We exchanged a grin before she left.
Taking my time replying to the MediKnow CEO, I then tidied the strewn papers on my desk, and walked to the door.
I steeled myself at the sight of Fernando waiting on the piano bench.
“Fernando,” I said gravely.
The blood remaining in his face drained away and his blue eyes blazed—showing his loss of control. I had no idea how powerful this vampire was and knew very little about his mother’s debt or how much he owed. For what I had in mind, those details were insignificant.
He entered the office, and I closed the door, pushing the noise-cancelling button.
“Sit down,” I said.
He blurred to sit on the chaise, and I crossed my arms, studying him.
The vampire hung his head. “I’m a cowa—”
“I’ll make this quick, Fernando, because, honestly, your selfish actions nearly killed me, and they killed twelve people who you claim to uphold as brothers and sisters. I can barely stand to be in the same room as you.”
Fernando flinched violently.
“All you need to know is that the lives of you and your sister are in my hands. Do you understand that one word to Kyros will end your life and throw your sister into slavery?”
He closed his eyes. “Yes.”
Good. “We’re on the same page. From this moment forward, Fernando, your ass is mine. You work for me until I say otherwise.”
His eyes widened, in sync with my canary-eating smile.
He shifted on the chaise. “What kind of work?”
I ambled to my desk. “Nothing you’re unfamiliar with. You’ll spy on Clan Sundulus and Clan Fyrlia for me.”
His silence was music to my ears. I looked up, allowing the memory of the Indebted’s mass grave in Orange to fuel my hardness.
My voice was harsh. “I want their plans. I want their bluffs. I want their movements. Everything. You’ll continue under the guise of spying for Clan Fyrlia to keep access to their inner workings.”
Fernando hadn’t blinked in the last minute. “I’ll need to give them information to keep my cover intact.”
I tilted my head. “I don’t give a fuck what you tell them about Sundulus. If you must give them information about me or this estate, you’re to discuss the details with me in advance. Is that clear?”
“Y-Yes, Miss Le Spyre.”
“And Fernando?”
He waited, perhaps sensing the trap in my purring tone.
I perched on the desk. “If anything happens to make me suspect your allegiance has shifted again, know that I won’t wait for confirmation of your guilt. I won’t hesitate to alert Clan Sundulus of your betrayal. So you better ensure I’m very convinced of your innocence.”
The remaining blood in his face drained away.
Bluffing Basi was out in full force, but Fernando had to believe I meant what I said. This was yet another risk that could go terribly wrong if he decided to blab to Kyros. Laurel had agreed to use eye compulsion on him at random to ensure his loyalty, but Fernando didn’t need to know that.
“I understand, Miss Le Spyre,” he said. “I won’t let you down.”
I fixed him with a quelling look. “Let me down again, you mean?”
He flushed.
Rounding the desk, I settled into my grandmother’s chair, pulling out a notepad and pen. “Get comfortable. You’re about to spend the next few hours recounting every single thing you know about the clans, the members of the royal families, their current movements, blood exchanges, past strategies, and the clans’ positions in the game.”
My past mishaps had arisen from ignorance.
No more.
13
The door to my Live Right office opened.
I’d felt his rage two minutes before and felt reasonably certain of the cause. In preparation for his arrival, I’d adjusted the low front of my skintight top so the swell of my breasts popped out to near nipple-displaying proportions. The bottom hem of the top was tucked into sailor-blue ankle-length pants, a thin brown belt accented my narrow waist, and a blazer with vertical stripes completed the look.
I’m too busy for small boys. That’s what this outfit, equipped with a high ponytail, put across.
I liked to think.
“Basilia,” he said.
I didn’t look up from Monocle. “Kyros. Good afternoon.”