Kyros’s sadness didn’t abate.
Okay, so it wasn’t the nature of the photos that upset him.
“So you say,” Lionel crowed. “Basilia and I spent the day getting to know each other.”
The loneliness in his eldest brother surged.
I stared at the huge vampire. There was no way Kyros was upset because I’d spent time with Lionel and not him.
We rarely spent time together outside of this tower.
That surely couldn’t be why he was sad. Whatever the reason behind his heartache, it was important to Kyros that his siblings didn’t guess his real sentiment.
I glanced down at my phone, spotting a message from Tommy.
She sent it a while ago, but I’d been here since 11:00 p.m., catching up with Angelica on the sharp decline in my acquisition rate that was giving her cause for concern. I’d made a passable effort at reassuring her that it was fatigue affecting me, knowing the excuse would filter back to King Julius.
I opened the message.
YOU’RE IN FUCKING SHIT. YOU PAID OFF MY POP’S BILLS?
Wtf, Basi!!
I am SO angry at you.
Whoa, what?
I read the message again. Her pop’s bill had been paid? That wasn’t me! I wasn’t stupid enough to mess with Tommy and money—that was a lesson learned the hard way at six years old.
I frantically typed back:
I swear it wasn’t me, Tom
<3 <3 <3
My thumb hovered over the Send button, but I paused, realisation dawning on me. I lifted my head to study Kyros, where he still played the part of annoyed older brother in the midst of his siblings.
That. Fucker.
The timing was too coincidental after the episode with the white roses and him demanding to know what I appreciated. I almost groaned, remembering that I’d mentioned appreciating my friends.
That wasn’t a hint to ply Tommy with money. I powered off my tablet and slipped my phone in my pocket.
He was already looking at me warily when I reached his end of the table.
“Kyros, could I have a word?”
Lionel and the others chorused a loud ooooh.
“Sorry if I got you in trouble, bro,” Lionel said, leaving the room.
The others followed, smirking my way.
Yeah, whatever.
Kyros toyed with his tablet, not meeting my gaze. His sadness was still rampant, and yet a very clear line needed to be drawn in regards to Tommy.
“The list,” he said as I opened my mouth.
What?
A list was slid across to me.
“Fyrlia’s properties that you promised not to enter without me.”
I stared at it, scanning the top few. “What do the nine addresses in red mean?”
“Those are the personal properties of Fyrlia royals. You must never enter them. If my family or I, or any of our people enter them, it’s considered an act of war.”
Interesting. “So Fyrlia can’t enter any of the Sundulus royal homes either?”
Kyros nodded. “We can’t always be playing a game. That was part of the original rules of Ingenium.”
I set down my tablet and tucked the sheets of paper in my purse to study later.
“You have something to say,” he said.
“This isn’t a great time,” I began, then tightened my resolve. “I need to know if you paid off a bill for my friend recently.”
He glanced up, studying me more intently.
I sighed. “Kyros, you can’t do that. Especially not to her. She just messaged me, blaming me for doing it.”
Shoving the message under his nose, I watched as he read it.
“Undo it,” I told him, slipping it in my pocket once more.
Answering anger rose in him, nowhere near the towering heights of mine. “I can’t. I did it anonymously. To make you happy.”
I threaded my hand through my hair and pulled it to distract myself from smashing the newly fixed glass wall. “She doesn’t even accept money from me whom she loves. Jesus, Kyros. I understand what you’re trying to do with these gifts, but just stop it, please. They’re meaningless to me.”
His frustration died and the loneliness within him swelled to greater heights. I gritted my teeth, holding onto my resolve. He couldn’t involve Tommy in our shit. That was a hard no.
“Tell me, true mate. How do I reach you?” the vampire asked, leaning forward on the table. “You constantly draw away.”
He slammed his hands down. “How do I reach you?”
I blinked at his sudden eruption, clutching the files against my chest.
What a farce this entire thing was. Kyros was trying to pull me closer emotionally and not bite me. I wanted to be bitten and nothing more. His father wanted me pushed away for good.
This was all so messed up.
Kyros had betrayed and lied to me so many times, and yet the blood bond was making me feel terrible for hurting his damn feelings.
I had to remember the blood bullshit wasn’t real.
My voice shook. “You don’t reach me. You betrayed me. Do you think jewellery and a few bunches of flowers will ever fix that? If you can’t accept my decision on that front, then at the very least stay the fuck away from my humans.”
I whirled from his hard gaze and rushed through Level 66, his heartache radiating through my chest.
Or was it mine?
Safina was waiting by the elevator. She grimaced. “I was waiting for you. I didn’t mean to listen.”
Part of working in a tower of vampires meant accepting that very few conversations were private. If Kyros had needed that private, he would have moved us to his lair.
“What do you want?” I muttered, stepping in and pressing the button, hoping Kyros would have the sense to not follow.
She hesitated as the elevator swept downward with a belly-dropping lurch. “It’s Kyros’s one hundred and fiftieth birthday tomorrow. It’s late notice, but I’ve been waiting for the right time to ask because I know last time you met our family, things were uncomfortable.”
I raised my brows, my incredulity speaking for itself.
The eldest princess sniffed. “Maybe that’s an understatement.”
Just a tiny one.
“It’s just dinner with immediate family. You’re important to Kyros, and I know he’d love for you to be there.”
Ding!
We stepped off into the garage, and I glanced to where Laurel waited for me.
“Look, Safina. I appreciate that you’re trying to make your brother happy. But what makes him happy doesn’t always work for the longevity of my life. King Julius made it clear that he doesn’t approve, and I have no protection against that disapproval.”
She opened her mouth, and I held up a hand. “None of you would lift a finger against your father, so please don’t offer empty promises. The answer is no. I won’t willingly spend time with the people who used me. I hope you all have a lovely time together on his birthday.”
Disappointment and guilt clouded her face, and I strode toward Laurel, weariness piled on my shoulders.
Guess the relative peace of the last few days was officially over.
“That dick actually thought he could buy you through me,” Tommy seethed as we entered the Turkish steam room.
So far spa day had been listening to a steady stream of Kyros propaganda. “I genuinely think he has no idea. Like if something doesn’t have a monetary value, he disregards it.”
She snickered. “He must be floundering so hard.”
I shoved down guilt at her words. “You said you were able to donate the amount to the retirement home?”
Tommy nodded. “I’m happily back in debt.”
“Good. Then I’d like to stop talking about Kyros.”
Kyros who was one hundred and fifty today. I hadn’t texted him yet. Was it crazy that I felt so terrible for not going to his birthday dinner?
He was one hundred and fifty.
Tommy str
ipped off her robe and stretched out naked on the bench. I followed suit on the bench next to hers.
“I’ll tell you about Mr Tommy then,” she said, settling back.
There were ears on this conversation. I’d noticed that my friend was always very careful not to say Theodore’s name outside of my soundproofed office. “He told me he loved me this morning before I left.”
“Uhm, oh my god!” I sat up again. “What did you say? Please tell me you didn’t freak out.”
She grinned, eyes closed. “I said it back.”
I beamed at her and jabbed her cheek. “Is that from the steam or are you blushing?” I jabbed her again.
Tommy batted me away. “I want to be grossed out with myself, but I’m totally blushing. I think this is serious. After two months. Is that crazy, Basil?”
Yes. But this was her first real crush. I was the same with Ricky at the start. “Feels pretty strong, huh?”
“So strong. I’ve never felt this way. Ever. He’s literally a god. And in bed. Don’t get me started.”
Well, that wasn’t going to happen. If I couldn’t have all the Kyros sex I desired, then I’d live through my friend.
She caved with little resistance.
Jealousy swarmed in my chest as she recounted last night’s sexcapades. Twenty-one, and I was as lonely as Mrs Gaughton. And Mr Trenington and Mr Triffz. Maybe my trouble list. They were like me—all of us some variation of the token cat lady.
“I’m so happy for you, Tom,” I said, lying down again. “You’re in love.”
She fumbled blindly for me.
“That’s my boob.” I snorted.
“Whoops.” Tommy located my hand and squeezed it. “The only thing making me unhappy is that he doesn’t know you yet.”
“Hopefully one day soon,” I said lightly.
She didn’t patronise me by agreeing to the statement.
“So massage, manicure, pedicure, hair, and make-up after this?” she asked.
“You know it.” This was long overdue. Me and bestie time—healing time.
She grabbed us a water each, and I gulped mine back.
Tommy sighed. “It’s been a month, lovely. How are you going without your grandmother? And running the estate and all that fancy stuff?”
How am I going?
“I’m going, I guess. It still doesn’t feel real that she’s gone. Every time I sit in her office chair, I expect her to stride into the room and order me out of it. You think I’d be used to grief after my parents, but at least I still had some family after that, you know?”
I took a breath. “I mean, she was always going to die when I was young. I just thought I had longer. It shouldn’t bother me so much, but it just gets to me that she’ll never meet the person I end up with or any children I may have. She won’t see what I become. I hate that most of all.”
“She knew you,” Tommy replied softly. “She knew who you were and would be. And who’s to say she isn’t looking down on us right now.”
My brows shot up as I scanned our naked bodies. “This exact moment?”
We both burst into hoots that echoed around the small tiled room.
“Shit,” Tommy said, wiping her eyes. “Terrible timing. You know what I meant.”
I did. “I haven’t had grieving time, you know? Then again, life doesn’t just stop. Does anyone really have time to mourn? It’s more like thoughts of her hit me at random times—like when Nat King Cole comes on, or I see an advert for a new Tom Hanks movie, or when I see someone wearing brown shoes with a black outfit.”
“Who taught that unfortunate person how to dress?” we chorused, falling into laughter again.
A few tears leaked from my eyes—not entirely from mirth. They felt a whole heap better than the last tears I’d shed. “I’m lucky to have a lot of good memories with her.”
“Agatha was one of a kind.” Tommy sipped at her water, wiping at her beading brow. “Did I ever tell you that she pulled me aside a few months after the last rich-bitch slumber party you ever held?”
It was the party that nearly broke my friend—and the reason I’d severed all communications with the rich girls my age. They’d cut her hair off and held her down to pull off her clothes and make fun of where she’d bought them. I’d nearly stabbed Harriet Gregorian with the scissors when I’d discovered them. She had Fred to thank for her life.
Tommy was a mess for months after. What teen girl wants to be naked in front of anyone? But it was more than that. Tommy never felt like she belonged in my world, and their actions had hammered on the cracks and left her so fragile.
“You didn’t,” I said. We rarely spoke about this. The memories of that night hurt her even now. Everyone carried a scar or two from childhood—kids could be fucking mean while figuring out who they were—but Tommy carried a larger scar than most.
My friend smiled. “She pulled me aside while you were trying to find out how to reunite Destiny’s Child for a private concert on your fifteenth birthday—”
I’d settled for my second choice.
“—and said I better stop moping and toughen up because the world liked to beat everyone with bags of shit regardless of whether they were poor or rich.” She tilted her chin. “Everyone smells the same, Tommy. People like Harriet Gregorian may have enough money to cover their stench, but they never learn to accept who they are without disguise. You, my dear, have dignity. And so you are already rich in a way they can never replicate.”
Only the slight hiss of steam filling the room disturbed the calm.
“I never knew,” I murmured. “I wondered why you started smiling again.”
“There you have it. She also said that if she caught my eyes on the floor one more time, she’d half my father’s wages.”
My lips twitched. “That sounds more like her.” I took a full breath, exhaling loudly. “Agatha Le Spyre.”
Tommy grinned at the ceiling, reaching out to take my hand. “Agatha Le Spyre.”
21
“We look fucking good,” I announced as we arrived back at the estate. Laurel and the others would be close behind, but I’d demanded that Fred drive Tommy and me to the spa and back tonight. “We need to do something. Maybe a nice dinner?”
I trailed off, noting Tommy’s lack of enthusiasm.
“What’s up?” I nudged her.
“Uh, well I kind of have plans. He texted this morning,” she mumbled.
Oh.
“Right. Sorry, yes. I shouldn’t have assumed you were free.”
She searched my face. “Basil—”
“No, really. It’s okay. Of course you want to hang with the guy you looove.”
Tommy rolled her eyes. “Stop it.”
I made kissing noises until she punched me on the shoulder.
“Go show him how fucking hot you look,” I grumbled.
She did look hot with beach waves in her chin-length chestnut hair, and a subtle purple eyeshadow, which deepened the shade of her incredible eyes. She was a fun-sized man-killer, and with the lethal outfit I was going to force her into, Theodore better recognise how lucky he was.
“What will you do tonight?” she asked, chewing her red lip.
“Stop it, you’ll rub off your lip colour. And don’t ask hard questions.” I whacked her leg and hustled out of the car so she couldn’t get me back.
Rosie bobbed a curtsey at the entrance. “Miss Tommy, Miss Le Spyre, you both look beautiful. Will you take tea before dinner?”
“Did you not hear me declare a backward day, Rosie?” I answered. “Breakfast is to be dinner. Dessert is to be tea! Must I always repeat myself?”
“As you say, Miss Le Spyre.” She bobbed again.
I grinned as she left.
“You’re so mean,” Tommy said.
Chuckling, I waved a hand as we traipsed up the stairs. “Rich people must have whims.” Plus, Rosie fell for zero percent of my grand declarations these days. It only encouraged me.
Tommy snorted. “You’re so full
of shit.”
“At least I’m full of something,” I answered darkly.
She studied me. “Why don’t you go get some then? Why are you waiting around for this guy who we’ve established is a total dickwad?”
We hadn’t. She had. And he was.
But only when I said it.
My rebellion with Rhys had shown me that course of action was no longer open to me. I couldn’t just go to a club and bring some guy home. Not as things currently stood.
I stared at Tommy but couldn’t think of a way to convey my sentiments around the compulsion.
She searched my face and tapped her temple. I nodded, and she threw me a sad look.
“Need an outfit for tonight?” I said, forcing cheer.
Flinging open my clothing room, I dragged her in.
Indecision warred on her face. “I dunno…”
“Let me live through you,” I whined. “I’d let you live through me.”
Her lips curved.
Permission granted!
I dragged dresses off the racks, throwing them at her feet. Jewellery followed, then clutches and heels. Sucked to be Rosie later on. I hoped she had a maid minion to delegate the task to.
Tommy waded through the pile, selecting a few. I’d learned not to pick an exact dress for her because we had such different tastes. She always looked fantastic in the dresses she chose. I’d leave the decision to the master.
“Whoa, whoa, whoasies,” she whispered. “What’s this hunk of sexy?”
I hadn’t worn most of my wardrobe, so I genuinely had no idea.
Squinting, I caught the white silk dress, holding it up. “It’s classy. No wonder I never wore it.”
Tommy didn’t return my wolfish grin.
She dropped the dresses in her arms and held out the bottom of the dress. “It’s like Marilyn Monroe, ballerina gorgeous.”
“The silk is so thin.” It was beautiful. Simple. The dress had thin straps and was form-fitting to the waist where the silk flared in soft, feminine waves. I wasn’t fooled. The fabric would cling to every line of my body, hinting at but never confirming what lay beneath—which wouldn’t be underwear because even seamless panties would show.
Vampire Debt: Supernatural Battle (Vampire Towers Book 2) Page 26
