Vampire Debt - Supernatural Battle (Vampire Towers #2) - Kelly St. Clare Page 0,71
That only helped Sundulus so much. Anything could fucking happen—and the forecast covered fucking everything, extrapolating data over the next twenty years.
They had to have software to generate these crazy stats. Or, I supposed, several hundred vampires on the job.
The head of forecasting left the room. As soon as she did, the seconds launched into a furious debate that had my palms sweating in seconds. Eyes blazing and teeth flashing, growls cut through the air. Keeping track of the different reports and threads was near impossible as it was. With the reaction of my body around the Vissimo, I had no chance.
I watched Kyros who, for the most part, sat back observing his seconds. He chimed in every so often to realign the flow of ideas and criticism but otherwise sat much like his father had while listening to his children brainstorming.
When his father did it, I wanted him to trip on his sarong and fall down the stairs.
On Kyros…
My mouth dried at the way the massive vampire leaned back in his chair, at ease but attentive. If I was sitting on his lap, I knew what I’d be feeling under my ass at that moment.
I clamped my legs together, flushing as Kyros tore his green eyes from Conrad to look at me. Answering heat and no small amount of intrigue flooded my mind.
The seconds stood, and I blinked.
They turned to me, and I stared back in bewilderment.
“We stand before our prince, Miss Le Spyre,” Ilion said, his keen eyes resting on the open housing report in my hand.
He isn’t my prince.
I peered at Kyros. “If I sat here all day, you’d have to do the same?”
His eyes flashed at the challenge, and the vampires either side of me scattered away from the table.
I grinned, standing.
Kyros unfurled to his full height. I swallowed, and several vampires glanced my way.
“Stand by for the final strategy announcement at 03:45 a.m.,” Kyros said grimly.
The seconds didn’t just walk from the room—they blurred. Thank fuck. I took a full breath for the first time in two hours. I ignored Kyros as much as possible to power off my tablet.
It was no use. I felt him moving down the length of the table to watch me. Hugging the tablet to my chest, I straightened and returned his steady perusal.
His green eyes searched mine. What for? PTSD from his father’s interrogation? Strangulation by King Julius was just one more shit on the poop heap.
Kyros gripped my upper arms and sadness pinged through our bond. “I’m sorry, Basilia.”
Had he ever said sorry before? I hadn’t thought the word was in his vocabulary. His apology did mean something—as unspecific as it had to be for listening ears. It just didn’t mean enough.
I hummed. “I hear you.”
“That’s what you say when you don’t forgive someone.”
Totally true. I laughed despite myself. “I do not—”
“You say it to Angelica.”
We moved slowly to the door, and I smirked. “Do you think she knows?”
“Now? Definitely.”
Well, damn. “Where’s the next meeting?”
“I’ll show you, but one more thing before we join my siblings.”
He stepped in front, blocking me from his minions’ view. Kyros powered on my tablet, and opening the house acquisition file, he tapped a finger on the target properties in Agriculture.
“It will take a while to adjust to these meetings. I know the lack of control from my seconds was physically hard to withstand.”
Yeah. I’d have to figure out a way around that.
Kyros lowered his head. “Between you and I, is there anything we need to pay attention to on this page?”
He flipped between possessive, insightful, overbearing, and kind faster than my head chef flipped pancakes. I’d take a room filled with debating vampires over this any day.
He’d phrased his words carefully, and I followed suit. “I need to make a call during human time.”
To my team in Churchill. I needed to know which property was best to give up. And if I definitely owned the six I thought I did.
A smile graced his face before he exited the document and powered off the tablet. “Thank you, Basilia.”
I wasn’t imagining the tension within him one bit. Clan Sundulus really was on the ropes.
16
I entered the penthouse of Dimtren Rise armed with a floor-length deep-green gown, a set of my mother’s earrings, and gold glitter six-inch Shus that they could bury me in.
The volume of the murmuring elite ebbed as I paused on the stairs to scan them impassively.
The top level of this skyscraper afforded 360-degree views of Bluff City and was decorated with