The truth.
Stewing in grief alone in my hotel room here? No, thanks.
Wearily, I glanced at the reception desk.
Angelica wasn’t alone.
Kyros straightened from where he’d been leaning on the desk. His meadow-green gaze scanned me from head to toe, returning to my face where they stayed.
So many conflicting emotions assaulted me at once that I closed my eyes. Lust, hurt, anger, loathing, bitterness, yearning. Each of them fought for first spot, and I reached a hand to my head, dizziness assaulting me.
“Miss Tetley,” Angelica repeated.
Stilling, I didn’t bother looking at Kyros again. He’d seriously fucked up. So many times I’d lost count.
“Angelica,” I replied calmly. “I’m staying at work. Please stop asking me the same question every day. If I want to be elsewhere, I will tell you.”
She cut off, halfway through the inevitable request for me to take time to grieve.
“Is that all?” I said bluntly.
For the last month, Angelica had done nothing but manipulate Kyros and I into each other’s company.
I’d told her I didn’t like games.
She’d continued to play them.
My goodwill was officially expired.
“We’re worried about you,” she said, casting a look at her hulking nephew.
The other half of the we couldn’t speak for himself?
She rounded the desk, standing between us. “We just wanted to say that we’re sorry about the passing of your grandmother. It was a heart attack?”
And there it was.
Every Vissimo in this tower found out my grandmother’s death as I did—their sensitive hearing made it hard to keep secrets within the confines of Kyros Sky.
Yet only the Indebted came to speak their condolences.
My voice was ice. “A heart attack, yes.”
I wouldn’t look at him. Because he’d see everything in my eyes. He’d see how much I still craved his touch. How much I didn’t want him to touch me at all. How much pain I was in.
The third blood exchange hadn’t solved the tension between us one bit. The draw to him was an itch under my skin. Now, Kyros occupied my mind at all times; however, his presence made things exponentially worse. The urge to go to him. To feel him. To have his hands on my body somewhere. Anywhere.
Nearly overwhelming, and a headache I couldn’t take.
Especially when I hadn’t seen hide nor hair of him since the thrall of our unplanned third blood exchange ended. For a month, I couldn’t get him off my fucking back. Since I last drank his blood in a basement, surrounded by his enemies, petrol, and in a pool of blood. Not a damn peep.
“You have our sincere condolences,” Angelica said, dipping her head.
I snorted. “Cool. Thanks. That it?”
“We need to discuss the developments between us.”
Oh, he could speak?
His eyes bored into the side of my face. “We sure do,” I said sweetly. “Is now convenient for you?”
A wise man wouldn’t have answered.
“It is,” he replied, face impassive.
The wave of conflicting emotions slammed into me anew, and my head spun.
What the hell was going on?
“That’s a shame,” I murmured, turning away as I blinked through the dizziness assaulting me. “Any time in the last week would have been convenient for me. Now, I’m all booked up.”
He hadn’t texted.
He hadn’t visited.
He hadn’t sent so much as a minion to check on me.
No flowers. No apologies. No fucks given.
Message received.
“Don’t turn your back on me.” His snarl filled the space.
My heart leapt at the sound, sputtering in fear.
“How rude.” I bowed low as I backed down the hall to my office. “This is how you prefer people to leave your royal presence, right?”
Angelica edged from between us, her downcast gaze turned in Kyros’s direction.
The vampire placed a hand in his trouser pocket, face hardening in the first sign of emotion he’d displayed. I recognised the gesture for the brittle hold on his alpha temper that it was.
My laugh was just as brittle.
Nearly at my office, perhaps the wisest thing to do would have been to remain mute.
I spun to enter the room, saying, “What a fucking joke.”
He was just there.
Kyros spun me so fast my knees buckled. Only his grip on my arms held me upright.
“What’s a fucking joke?” he hissed.
You.
This.
Everything.
Life.
Angelica’s voice was a mere whisper. “Sir, consider taking care. She’s human.”
Clever phrasing. A direct order could inspire a new tantrum from the crown prince. Usually, I understood that Kyros strove constantly for control over his alpha nature. He hated being victim to his own possessiveness.
Right now?
I tried to shake his hold. He let go, and I placed both hands on his chest, shoving as hard as I could.
“Just leave,” I shouted up into his face.
He wanted to go. I could see it. Since we’d met, part of him never wanted to be around me, and it was no different now.
The sentiment was entirely returned.
“Let me guess?” I panted from the heat of our bodies touching. “You need something? That’s why you’re here.”
I shoved him again to zero effect.
“Stop,” he ordered, capturing my wrists.
I tried to pull away. His grip didn’t alter, and panic found me.
“Let me go.” I kicked out, barely recognising my voice.
“You can’t run away from this, Basilia,” Kyros said, his eyes dimming.
I can. I will.
“Why not?” I spat at him. “You want to.”
He didn’t deny it. I could take solace in that. We were as miserable and trapped as each other.
My head tipped back as I laughed—my usual throaty sound warped to bitterness. Because the third blood exchange we’d completed was important for a whole other reason. Yet another thing I hadn’t paused to decipher since my grandmother’s death.
If Kyros and I weren’t mates, we’d feel nothing for each other. No itch under the skin. No drive to touch each other.
My laughter swelled. “Your true mate is a fucking human.”
Now I’d said the words aloud, I realised that was about the most hilarious thing in my life.
“Stop,” Kyros rumbled, shaking me hard enough to rattle my teeth.
To no effect. My laughter continued.
He bowed his head, holding my wrists tight as I whooped at the shitshow of my life. No friends under the age of sixty. No family. No fucking chance.
Kyros swayed in rhythm to my vicious efforts to be free, his head still bowed, and his expression serene.
No one was more disappointed than I when my manic laughter wouldn’t go the distance against Kyros’s meditative state.
“Please let me go,” I whispered, wrung out. Free me.
The Vissimo game master didn’t obey. Surprise, surprise. Lifting his head, he tugged me against him instead.
“Don’t you dare,” I snapped.
His arms tightened. “I’m here now, Basilia.”
I didn’t need him now. Even with his bullshit fucking lie about the second exchange, I might have accepted his support a week ago. Now, I refused to need anything from a Vissimo.
The funniest thing of all? Only blood bullshit was making me want this contact or his arms around me. The itch under my skin, the drive to touch him. None of that was real. Not like my friendship with Tommy had been real.
Not like the burning truth of my grandmother’s love.
I didn’t relax in his embrace, and eventually, Kyros let go.
Round two to Basi.
“Why are you here?” I flung at him.
“My sisters told me about the conversation you had with them during the thrall.”
“About you being able to feel where I am for the rest of my life?” I asked in a dangerous voice.
He searched my face. “Yes. That.”
“Is that why you took a week to talk to me? I pegged you for an asshole, not a scared asshole.”
His jaw ticked. “I had things to attend to.”
Ingenium. “I hope the game goes fruitfully.”
I got why he had to play, but their game hurt people. Me. Tommy. The citizens of Bluff City. The clans compelled human liaisons who likely lived in daily fear.
… Rhys, whose funeral I’d missed while in the injured haze of my third thrall. Not that I would have attended anyway, being partially responsible for his death.
Kyros’s nostrils flared, but his voice remained steady. “It is. Thanks to the property you secured in Black… amongst other things.”
I didn’t need the pointed look accompanying his words.
Sundulus bluffed Clan Fyrlia into entering a massive development deal for re-zoned agricultural land. The subdivision developer was a heroin addict—something I’d picked up on—and they expected the deal to fall through.
Whatever. I didn’t have two fucks to rub together where Ingenium was concerned. What I was concerned with were the Tonyi triplets.
When Clan Fyrlia attacked me ten days ago, they had specific knowledge of the weak spots in my route. Which meant…
“There’s another matter we need to discuss,” I told him. “Someone in this tower is a—”
He blurred, covering my mouth with his behemoth hand. And Zeus’s left nut, I tried not to acknowledge how perfect his warm, calloused hand felt against my mouth and skin. How did a crown prince even have callouses?
And why couldn’t I hate him in peace?
I hated it. I hated him.
Whipping out his phone, Kyros typed a message.
I’ve been interviewing suspects all week
I sniffed in disdain and grabbed his phone.
One week and you haven’t found them yet?
His lips twitched.
You could do better?
Ice filled me as I typed a final message.
I was a teen girl far more recently than you. YES.
Kyros scowled.
Fool. It was a compliment—teen girls were fucking smart at this shit.
He considered me, and I refused to break away first. In addition to what Fyrlia put me through, five Indebted were now dead and another barely recovered because of the spy in Kyros’s ranks.
The vampire dipped his head. “Come.”
Did he have to use that word in particular? “I have work to do.”
I’d planned on visiting three properties in three different suburbs to hedge my bets on which colour we’d land on at the midnight roll. It made sense to spread my time amongst the suburbs, so then I could hone in on the owners I’d warmed up. I’d secured six houses for Live Right already—all of them on the clan’s trouble list.
“Not today,” the vampire answered, taking my hand and all-but dragging me back to reception. “Angelica, clear Miss Tetley’s day.”
But diving into the personal lives of my growing clientele meant I wasn’t required to think about my own.
“Yes, sir,” she replied from behind.
Kyros glanced toward the stairs to the left of reception as we exited the wide hall.
“No,” I growled.
If he took the stairs, I’d need to be in his arms.
His gaze narrowed an instant before he pounced, swinging me into his arms.
I shrieked as he ran, flinging my arms up to loop them around his neck.
Hmm, actually.
I squeezed tighter and tighter, only stopping when Kyros paused less than a minute later by his office desk on Level 65.
“You wouldn’t be trying to strangle me, would you, Miss Tetley?” he murmured, punching in his stupidly long password.
“Yes,” I answered, loosening my grip.
I’d only tried it on the off chance it would work, but only fire and beheading and irreversible damage to the heart killed them. Even then, the thought of killing Kyros was abhorrent because of the bond.
He pursed his lips.
Another burst of speed and I was bouncing on the massive bed in his minimalist, devoid-of-warmth excuse for a Batman lair.
“I thought you wanted to have a serious discussion with me,” I bit out as he closed the door. “How can you even think that I’d sleep with you after all the lies and stunts you’ve pulled?”
His green eyes darkened over crooked lips. “This room is soundproof.”
Forgot about that.
Dammit.
“Right.” I could have told the jackass there was a soundproof hot water cupboard on Level 44.
Avoiding his intense stare, my gaze snagged on the pinecone I’d gifted him for saving my life.
He’d put the Pinterest-induced embarrassment on top of his drawers.
One more regret. I wish I’d never given it to him.
I bounded off the bed and walked to the circle sofa but stopped halfway, staring at the furniture.
Me straddling him.
Him straddling me.
Blood pouring down my throat.
Pure heat surged within me—so white-hot I had to bite down on my whimper.
Shit.
The sexual tension after the third exchange was definitely stronger. The itch was almost a burn. Panic flooded me as the trapped feeling returned, only to be battled by a fierce longing and aching sadness.
I lifted a hand to my temple again.
My brain was on the fritz.
“We’ve exchanged blood three times,” I whispered, glancing at the circle sofa in longing. Because it really was the most comfortable place to sit in his lair. “After the second swap, you could feel my location. What can you do to me now?”
I didn’t plead for him to tell me straight. I didn’t use one of my two remaining honesty questions. Honesty meant fuck all to this vampire. If the answer adversely affected the game and thus his family, he’d lie without batting an eyelid.
Kyros strode to the kitchenette on the opposite wall. There, he opened the small fridge and extracted a bag of red liquid.
My eyes widened on the plastic pouch.
Oh. My. God.
He poured the blood into a tall glass and tossed the drained bag into the bin under the sink.
Kyros’s eyes locked on mine as he sipped.
Meanwhile, I was just relieved not to feel jealous over him drinking another person’s blood. Thank fuck for small mercies.
He knocked back the contents of the glass as I decided whether the sight bothered me or not. After, Kyros ran his tongue over his teeth, removing traces of some unaware human.
Don’t be turned on. It’s weird.
“The third exchange changed things, yes,” he answered.
“Did it get rid of the location thing?” I blurted, mentally crossing my fingers.
Kyros scowled. “Developments between us aren’t erased, merely added to.”
Fucking great.
I plonked down on the sofa at last, eyeing the blasted décor pinecone again.
Nope. Couldn’t handle it being here.
I’d take the pinecone when I left.
“Tell me what new hold you have over me then,” I said wearily, the hairs on the back of my neck rising with Kyros’s position behind me.
“I thought you’d have noticed by now. I certainly have. But you’ve been… occupied.”
Understatement of the century. “Just fucking tell—”
“We can feel each other’s emotions.”
What?
Pivoting on the sofa, I fixed on his face, waiting for the punchline.
“Disbelief,” he said, arching a brow. “It’s no joke, Miss Tetley. I may omit the truth on occasion, but I wouldn’t joke about what we share.”
Sha
re? How was me losing every scrap of my life while he continued happy as Larry sharing?
“Loathing. Loss,” he said quietly.
The mess of emotions I’d felt since the thrall ended was because I was feeling his emotions too.
My human mind wanted to baulk at that. Because WTF?
And yet, hadn’t the swirl of emotions left me dizzy several times? When had that ever happened? How could a person be dizzy from feeling too much?
Shit, shit, shit.
His next word rang in my ears. “Acceptance.”
I knew better than to question what could and could not be when it came to Vissimo. As Angelica once aptly said, a mouse looking at a human would think they possessed magic.
“How does it work? You can’t hear my actual thoughts, right?” If so, I was screwed.
“That doesn’t occur on this exchange, no.”
I scoffed. “A fourth exchange? That’s not happening. It may not have been your fault we swapped blood a third time, but that’s where this circus ends.”
“You’re my true mate,” he growled.
Cue eye-roll. “Yeah, and you look as thrilled about that as I am.”
“Having you as a mate is my honour.” He executed a small bow.
Colour me surprised his spine could bend like that.
“Save it, Kyros. I don’t need to feel your emotions to know that’s a lie.”
He leaned against the bench—dressed in my favourite air-force blue suit.
Forcing away the itch to eliminate the space between us while throwing off my clothing, I asked, “Why are you offering so much information all of a sudden?”
“You deserve it. You’re my mate.”
I did my best to control my reaction to his words. Beneath my sarcastic mental snort was another emotion.
“Concealment?” I announced after a beat. “You’re lying. You don’t think I deserve the truth.”
His disagreement to that was strong.
I shook my head, trying again. “I deserve the truth, but that isn’t why you’re telling me.”
Shit.
Feeling his emotions could come in handy. Really handy.
He pushed off the bench. “To reiterate, I can’t hear your thoughts. Only your emotion. Which is often hard to decipher unless the emotion is strong.”
There was something he wasn’t saying. That could join the slew of other omissions he’d made.
Vampire Debt: Supernatural Battle (Vampire Towers Book 2) Page 2
