Vampire Debt - Supernatural Battle (Vampire Towers #2) - Kelly St. Clare Page 0,8
sniffed. She’d healed completely from near death in one week. Guess that told me all I needed to know about the healing properties of Vissimo blood. Their saliva worked on others too. At least, Kyros helped my stomach wound close with some serious licking in the basement.
“Kelsea,” Laurel said low. The word, delivered in a calm tone of voice, was nevertheless an order.
I darted looks at them. “I’d never tell on you guys. Of my own volition.” Huh, guess my ability to store secrets was as impaired as their own. Kyros could compel me at any time. Actually, any vampire could—but it was considered rude because I already shared a tie with another.
“I know, Miss Tetley,” Laurel answered. “But Indebted who don’t take care to always uphold the rules of servitude do not last long in our world.”
Kelsea hung her head. “Sorry, Laurel.”
“Always keep your guard up,” replied the older vampire—who by now I’d gleaned was the Indebted’s unofficial leader—of those in Kyros’s tower at least.
At two-hundred-and-eighty-years-old, her status amongst them could be an age thing, yet Laurel had something more to her, a staidness that reminded me so much of my grandmother’s unshakeable dignity. When she spoke, everyone listened, regardless of her position in their society.
I noticed our surroundings for the first time. “Where’s the ceremony?”
“We bury our dead in the forest,” Josie answered. “We can’t afford graves unless we go into more debt.”
Those in the SUV quietened, accentuating my harsh breaths. That was so fucking wrong. The Indebted died working for the clans because they had to in order to rejoin society one day. And they weren’t given money to bury their comrades?
I had no words. Only disgust.
“It’s okay, Miss Tetley,” Kelsea said, picking up my hand. “We can feel how upset you are. That means more than you know.”
Meeting her gaze, I nodded, squeezing her hand tightly.
We pulled up into the botanical gardens of Orange. The term was a running joke amongst locals. The closest thing people found to plants here were the tin-foil wrappings of old joints. Cigarette stubs littered the ground between broken bottles and junk food wrappings.
This patch of trees in the butthole of Bluff City was a place for druggies, drunks, and the desperate.
My stomach lurched with the wrongness of the situation as I walked behind Laurel into the dense bush bordering the parking lot. “Will the others be here soon?”
We were the only ones here.
“Most came on foot. We don’t have cars.”
Good one, Basi. Keep rubbing in that they don’t have money.
“Thank you for coming so soon after your grandmother’s death,” Laurel said, dropping back beside me. “This can’t be comfortable for you.”
I studied the vampire who carried the burden of much more pain than she showed. “Some discomfort should be felt.”
She caught my gaze, her expression unfathomable.
We wound deeper into the trees, and my eyes widened as my heart began to splutter and kick. Vissimo were dotted throughout the small forest. Everywhere. Super hearing probably negated the need to crowd around the speaker or bodies, but I was grateful they’d spread out. My palms were slick with sweat, but the crowd was manageable to be around.
There had to be more than one hundred and twenty Indebted here—the number Kyros housed. I quickly counted those in sight. Well over one hundred in attendance. Four times that amount at least, and I had no idea how far the vampires had spread out through the trees.
I murmured as quietly as possible, ignoring the shake in my voice. “How many are being buried today?”
“Twelve,” Kelsea replied.
Five belonged to us.
Indebted from Clan Fyrlia were here? Seven of the bodies belonged to their side. My brows shot up. Laurel had explained that the Indebted didn’t separate themselves by clan. I guess that meant at all. But shit, these guys had killed five of their brethren.
Laurel cut me a hasty look. “I should have warned you. I can take you back to the tower—”
I held up my trembling hand, heart twisting as I thought of the times my grandmother had done the same. “Not necessary. There aren’t any sides. I get it. They had their orders, and you had yours.”
I couldn’t fathom that the opposing Indebted weren’t at each other’s throats though. That was crazy forgiveness right there.
A hushed murmur rustled through the ranks at my comment.
Good or bad? No idea. I swallowed back as much of the automatic fear response as possible, focusing on the proceedings.