I smoothed my expression, turning to Rhys. “Apparently something has come up. How about I grab your number? We can head out another time. Maybe this weekend?”
His cheeks reddened. Adorable.
I pulled out my pen, batting my lashes. “I have no paper. You’ll have to write on my arm.”
He chuckled. Rhys reached for my hand, flipping it over to slide calloused hands up my forearm. Mmm. I shivered. That slow stroke was a promise of hidden talents. Consider me pleasantly surprised.
Rhys took his time about jotting his number on my skin—which I doubly appreciated because I knew it would be killing the butthole behind me.
“Thanks.” I met his eyes.
“Talk soon, Basi,” he replied.
After that forearm play, I was game for more than talking. What was it with forearms lately?
Rhys was swept up into the stream of pedestrians and quickly lost from sight.
“Are you done playing with the boy?”
If he expected me to back down, he could think again. Rich people had zero qualms about speaking their minds. I whirled on Kyros. “You just cock-blocked me! That’s low.”
He grinned.
Had I expected an apology? Not for a second.
“Don’t complain when I return the favour,” I said savagely, stomping back in the direction of the tower.
Straight into a passer-by.
This time the coffee splashed down my arm.
Kyros darted out a hand and gripped my forearm as I found my feet again.
“So sorry,” I gasped at the person through the pain of hot coffee on my skin. Ouch.
The young man wasn’t looking at me though. He stared at the man still gripping me. Breathing hard, the male dropped his gaze to the ground, entire body trembling.
Crap. I was shaking too.
Looking at Kyros would evaporate me into the same submissive heap. And that was a fucking crazy thing to even think. Yet the truth of it was infallible in my mind.
“Kyros,” I murmured without budging. My knees trembled on the verge of collapse. “I stepped into this man, not the other way around.”
His hand slipped down to my wrist, but he shifted it back to circle my forearm.
I sucked in a breath. “I’d like to wash the hot coffee off my body. Just when you’re ready.”
That did it. Grunting, Kyros tugged me toward the alcove of Kyros Sky. The man crumpled in a heap behind us, and I followed, eyes wide.
What the hell was happening?
“You need to watch where you’re going,” he snarled.
Air lodged in my throat. “No kidding.” I managed to choke out.
He released me, and I darted a look up as my body stopped shaking and my breath evened out.
This was getting out of control. I’d yammered on about spiritual disconnect and blah blah, but there were huge issues between us. One, his illegal fucking skyscraper. Two, whatever the hell he was. Because normal people couldn’t do that.
Normal people didn’t make other people want to cry for their mothers.
“Kyros,” I started, approaching the subject like a grown-up. “I’m gonna need you to stay the fuck away from me.”
Well, it started out good.
He scoffed, and anger flashed deep inside me.
I scowled. “I’m serious. I don’t like this possessive bullshit you’ve got going on. You’ve gotten in your head that we should suffer each other’s company, and I have no idea why. I don’t care, and I don’t give a single fuck if you’re my boss. Cut the immature games and leave me alone.”
I pushed the elevator button, then studied him again. “Struck speechless. It’s a good look on you.”
Gloating would be my downfall one day.
Ding!
Ding ding ding all freakin’ day. Couldn’t wait to bust this joint.
Five hours left.
I stepped inside and the lift doors began to close. Leaning against the back bar, I couldn’t help stealing a peek at him.
The muscles in his neck were taut, but his meadow-green focus left mine to trail down my body. Gaze lowered around my middle, he smirked just as the doors sealed.
Pervert.
Or did the coffee get on my clothes after all? I did a quick scan.
Clear.
Then I noticed black smudges all the way up my right forearm.
“You shitty bastard,” I whispered.
Rhys’s number was gone.
9
Twenty minutes left of my last day at Live Right.
Katerina had just dropped me off after our last prelim visit, so I was on cloud nine—even after Kyros’s dick move. Double dick move. He’d cock-blocked me twice. Normal people respected societal boundaries. Love and sex weren’t games.
I’d said I wasn’t interested. Hell, I’d given him a statistic of why things wouldn’t work. Some people just couldn’t take no for an answer, but after tonight I’d never see him again.
My body was in mourning over that. My womb wept for the night that could have been.
Fickle little thing.
I pulled out Beast and opened the only number on there.
I typed:
Plans tonight? <3
The phone was so old I had to click the number nine four times to get an S and forming the love hearts I like to tag onto the end of every text was a nightmare. Though I’d found a cool game on here called Snake. Each time the snake ate a brick, it gained the brick on the end of its tail. I had to dodge the tail as it grew longer and keep eating bricks. On my amended break—4:00 p.m. to 6:00 p.m.—I became addicted.
Beast vibrated.
I have wine
I smiled at Tommy’s reply, answering,
Thank duck for that. <3 <3
D didn’t take as many clicks as F.
See you after your shift, lovely!
I sighed. Tonight, I’d tell Tommy about all the crap this week.
With careful consideration, I’d realised that resigning face-to-face with Angelica could be dangerous. I’d email her tomorrow. It felt like the coward’s route, but I was past the point of caring. She and Kyros could deal. Or not.
Not my problem.
Before I left, I needed my pay. Packing up my belongings, I stacked the folders of properties I’d researched that afternoon to drop at Katerina’s desk.
Angelica stood at reception.
“Hey, Angelica.”
“Basi. Are those files for Katerina?” She stretched her hand out.
I passed them over.
“Ready for the big weekend?” she asked.
She did small talk about as easily as the Tin Man did yoga.
I smiled. “Just a quiet one for me.”
“I find that hard to believe. You’re a young woman. Isn’t there a significant other in your life?” Her eyes danced, making my stomach churn.
“There would be,” I snarled. “But Kyros rubbed his number off my arm.”
Oops. Clearly not over that.
Her mouth popped open. “He what?”
I was nearly free. I didn’t want to get into a Kyros discussion. “Don’t worry about it. Total misunderstanding.”
About personal boundaries and appropriate behaviour.
“He shouldn’t have done that.”
To her credit, though Angelica would probably play the part of rug for the boss man, she looked pissed on my behalf.
“Before I leave, could I get my pay for the week?”
She blinked rapidly. Whoa. Really, really fast. That was creepy on an exorcist level.
“Pay?”
I glanced around. “For working this week? You know? My pay.”
“Oh.” She laughed lightly.
I laughed with her. This conversation was hilarious.
Not.
“We pay fortnightly, Basi. It was on one of the forms you signed. We’re on the alternating week right now, so you’ll be paid next Wednesday.”
All I heard was next Wednesday.
�
��Fortnightly,” I repeated, heartbeat thundering in my ears.
“That’s common practice for most businesses. The payroll is a big job.”
Her words faded to white noise as my stupidity slammed home. This wasn’t happening.
I’d assumed people got paid weekly. Yet thinking back, I had nothing to support that assumption. Nothing.
My breath always came fast in Angelica’s presence, but hysteria now worked its way up my throat.
What was I going to do? I had fifty-five dollars to my name. Not enough for the rent I had to pay on Sunday.
“I—” Licking my lips, I said, “Could you make an exception? I didn’t realise pay came fortnightly. I need to pay rent this Sunday.”
Those words cost me everything to say.
That’s how I knew I was still a fucking rich brat.
Pity lighted her eyes. “I’m sorry, Basi. The company is strict on pay. We had problems a while back with double-paying due to advances such as this. Please understand, the payroll is a huge job. One person doing this kind of thing is easy to accommodate, but yours is the tenth request this week.”
“Just once, Angelica?” I pressed, leaving my dignity at the door. “I promise you’ll never hear me say these words again.”
I hoped to keep that promise. After three days in the real world, I’d learned there were any number of rules I had no idea about.
She stepped back, face firm. “I feel for you, but I can’t make any exceptions.”
My world imploded like a pyramid of cards.
Turning away, she paused by the desk. “I meant to say I have meetings until 4:00 p.m. on Monday. The others will be in after midday.” She slid something to me along the desk. “Here are the keys to the front door, and an electronic tab for the elevator, so you can get onto this level. The tab will disarm all the alarms too.”
On autopilot, I reached forward and took the keys.
Then Angelica was gone, and I was left—once more—in a trap of my own making.
I entered the air-conditioned Toggles and strode to an empty cashier, attempting to look confident. Clint expected rent at 10:00 a.m. tomorrow morning, and I was seventeen dollars short. After a sleepless night, I had three plans to tie me over until Wednesday.
“Hi,” I said with a sheepish smile. “I need to return a few things.”
The cashier frowned. “Why? Are they damaged?”
I shook my head. “No. I’ve changed my mind. They aren’t… right.”
Without a word, the teenage girl pointed at a sign overhead.
Toggles does not offer refunds if the customer changes their mind.
A store credit can be offered at cashier discretion.
A store credit? I considered it. Could I pay Clint in Toggles vouchers?
Doubt it.
“Thanks,” I said dully, grabbing my bags again that I’d lugged all the way from Orange instead of paying four dollars for the bus.
“Good luck,” the teen said with a sad smile.
Awesome. I looked pathetic too. I should have cited damage as the reason—though the cashier would have checked.
… Maybe I could ruin the stuff a bit and go back in when she went on lunch break.
Nearly at the exit, I turned to scan the shop floor. My gaze snagged on a group of staff. The young woman I’d spoken with was whispering to the others.
As one, they turned to me.
Dammit! Didn’t need to read minds to figure out the subject of their conversation. There went that plan. I hurried out of the store.
My stomach grumbled and gurgled.
Time for plan two.
Each day this week, I’d walked by a blood donation centre that passed out a thirty-dollar grocery voucher to donors. I had to eat. I’d skipped dinner last night and couldn’t go another day. I had a healthy appetite, but I’d exercised unusual restraint since leaving the estate, and didn’t have any energy stores at this point. A thirty-dollar voucher would cover food until Wednesday—I’d make it work. Even if I had to eat those noodles that took two minutes to cook in boiling water.
The attendant at the blood donor centre ushered me to the only free seat, where I filled out a form. I had to show my ID, so I used my real name.
Her eyes widened slightly when her gaze skimmed over my surname.
“Right this way, Miss Le Spyre,” she said in hushed tones.
I’d never be free of it. “Just Basi, please.”
“Of course,” she stuttered. “If you could lie down on this bed. An attendant will be with you in a minute.”
No doubt they’d be told who I was.
I deposited my Toggles bags on an empty chair and hoisted up onto the medical seat. It was more comfortable than my bed.
I flopped my head to each side.
Tubes ran into the wall, disappearing from sight. Is that what they’d hook me up to? My mind summoned the presence of giant vats behind the walls, filled with blood—though I was pretty sure donated blood came in individual plastic pouches. That’s how they did it on Truth Ranges anyway.
“Miss Le Spyre,” a man said.
I squinted at a middle-age male nurse. “Just Basi.”
“Of course. I’m Nurse Tim. There are a few questions before we start.”
I tuned out, nodding and answering when I had to, and sitting still as he strapped a Velcro band to my upper arm and pierced my vein.
I watched the dark red surge down the tube to where it disappeared behind the wall to whatever lay beyond.
“Good veins,” he murmured.
Why did nurses say that? I mean, I was sure large veins were easier to stab, but I found it hard to take compliments to my venous system. “Thanks.”
“You know…” Tim started.
I knew that tone of voice.
“—the donor centre is a community-funded centre. This year we’re short of our goal. If we don’t reach it, we’ll have to close down. Thousands of people rely on our centre to survive.”
The curse of the rich. Always being asked for money.
Each year, I gave to charities with causes I felt strongly for—led by my grandmother’s example. I wanted to help those in need. But when places like this learned who I was, they saw a dollar figure. It got really old.
“I’m sorry, Tim. I don’t have any money to spare.”
“Oh… I must have misread your last name.”
“Le Spyre is my last name,” I answered, hoping against hope he’d drop it. “I don’t have any money to spare. I hope that the donor centre reaches its goal though. It’s a great cause.”
My effort to soften the blow fell on deaf ears.
He pressed his lips together, sticking a plaster over the small wound. “There you go. All finished.”
Nurse Tim turned to leave.
I died a little inside. “The grocery voucher?”
The nurse wasn’t quick enough in hiding his accusatory look. “What? The incentive?”
Contempt filled his words. That I wouldn’t put up with. Sitting, I fixed him with a direct look. “You give the voucher to people who donate blood, correct?”
Tim averted his eyes and ducked out of the curtained-off space. A minute later, ferocious whispers erupted on the other side. Even with the coincidental timing, I heard enough to confirm I was the subject.
Swallowing hard, I stood and picked up my Toggles bags.
Shoving back the curtains, I had the minute satisfaction of seeing the gathered group of nurses jump.
Face impassive, I scanned them all.
Tim approached with my voucher, holding it out.
“Thank you, Nurse Tim.” I took the voucher and dipped my head like a fucking queen before turning to leave.
Just get outside.
“You could change thousands of lives in one second with the money you have.”
I halted at the woman’s voice.
“You rich people have no idea.” She continued.
No, we didn’t. But in this regard, the woman really was bar
king up the wrong tree. I channelled my inner grandmother, still facing the exit.
“Do you know how the rich stay rich?” My tone could have peeled paint.
For the first time this week, I was the predator.
“They keep the rest of the world poor and compliant,” I finished. No matter how much I disagreed with their tactics, the truth of the statement was incontestable.
Head held high, I walked out…
… Leaving my battered spirit on the floor.
9:50 a.m.
Clint would be here any minute. Only the plan at the donor centre worked out. So I was onto my last idea—to bluff like this city was named after me.
I had my pack on with all my important stuff, just in case he took the keys. I’d have to ask for help from Tommy to shift the stuff out and highly doubted Clint would give me the day to get it done. The bastard would make me arrange a time and probably charge for it.
But I had a few negotiation points up my sleeve. I hoped.
Turned out Clint was punctual when it came to money collection. At 9:59 p.m., he rounded the corner.
“Good morning, Clint,” I greeted, careful not to sound falsely bright. Nothing irked my grandmother more.
If you have to get out of a tight hole, don’t look like an idiot doing it.
No skin off my back. I’d looked like an idiot more than enough lately.
“Morning,” he grunted, wiping his nose on his sleeve.
Coming from him that was almost good manners. I would have liked to reward his behaviour with rent money. Alas. “How would you like $150.00 for rent this week?”
A momentary greed was wiped out as suspicion lit his face. “You can’t pay.”
“Turns out my job pays on Wednesdays every other fortnight. To be fair to you, I’m offering to fork out $150.00 for the next two weeks.”
His chins wobbled as he laughed. “I knew a rich bitch didn’t have a hope of getting the cash together.”
The tables would not turn. “Clint, I’ve warned you about that kind of talk before.”
“You think I give a fuck? You’ve stayed free in my house for four nights and can’t pay rent. I’m out of pocket.”
Blood Trial: Supernatural Battle (Vampire Towers Book 1) Page 10
