Death Game: Supernatural Battle (Vampire Towers Book 3)

by Kelly St Clare

  Death Game

  Vampire Towers

  Kelly St. Clare

  Contents

  About the Author

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Epilogue

  Coming in 2020

  Acknowledgments

  Books By Kelly St. Clare

  Join the Book Barracks!

  Death Game

  by Kelly St. Clare

  Copyright © February, 2020

  All rights reserved

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, media, and incidents are either products of the authors’ imagination, or are used fictitiously.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the author.

  Edited by Hot Tree Editing

  Cover design by Covers by Christian

  The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of a copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by fines and federal imprisonment

  About the Author

  When Kelly is not reading or writing, she is lost in her latest reverie.

  Books have always been magical and mysterious to her. One day she decided to unravel this mystery and began writing.

  Her works include The Tainted Accords, Pirates of Felicity, and The Darkest Drae.

  Kelly resides in New Zealand with her ginger-haired husband, a great group of friends, and whatever animals she can add to her horde.

  Join her newsletter tribe for sneak peeks, release news, and disjointed musings at kellystclare.com/free-gifts/

  This series is dedicated to my grandmother.

  Frances Carolyn

  13th August 1936 - 19th March 2019

  ~

  I miss you.

  1

  He was awake.

  For the last hour, I’d felt Kyros climb from the relative peace of slumber, but after a week at his Lyall Bay property, I knew he’d spend another hour pretending to be asleep.

  All to avoid time in my company.

  “We have zero tolerance for sexual harassment,” I told Eric over the video call. He was one of my many CEOs. “Sack him without a payout, and if Rhiannon wishes to take legal action, give her our full legal and financial support.”

  Eric dipped his head. As cold as ice, the guy acted like I’d just told him to yank weeds out of the garden instead of fire a human being.

  “I will send confirmation when it’s done, Miss Le Spyre.”

  I withheld my wince as his firm tone cut through my tender ears.

  “Good. Did we win the contract for Gyron-Easting Pharmaceuticals?” I scrolled through his latest update on my phone, leaving his face on my laptop screen. I was missing my office space big time.

  “They met your additional terms. I expect the revised contracts today and will forward them to your legal team before they’re presented for your signature and final approval.”

  Eric was one of my youngest CEOs, but also one of the best, and one of the few who hadn’t tried to assert their dominance on the twenty-one-year-old heiress of the Le Spyre Estate. Advice from those with more experience, I’d happily take—though Grandmother ensured I was capable of managing and increasing the family fortune. A few of my employees had learned the hard way that I wasn’t a normal twenty-one-year-old.

  I’d grown up in the shark tank before learning humans were really the fish. Business interactions seemed insignificant now. A lot of things did.

  Disconnecting the call, I leaned back, stretching my arms overhead. Carefully. The bruises on my abdomen had faded to yellows and greens, and the jagged scar on the right side of my neck from Theodore’s brutal bite had formed a hard red scar with the help of Kyros’s saliva and surgery, but I was still sore.

  My jaw cracked as I yawned.

  Blood loss was a bitch. Dr Olivia said it would take between four and eight weeks for my blood cells to be replaced, and that I could feel dizziness and fatigue in the meantime.

  I glanced at my phone. 2:00 p.m.

  Nap time. At least I was down to one nap a day. I wasn’t sure what Kyros would do once I got rid of them altogether. He only left his room to leave for work once I left the open-plan kitchen and lounge area around this time.

  Familiar anger gripped me, and his own anger flared in response. Even in pretend sleep, Kyros was mad at me.

  Guilty. Sad. Uncertain.

  I woke one week ago after a brush with death and had patiently waited for him to snap out of this mood ever since. He just wouldn’t. The distance was swelling and freezing, and I had no idea what to do about it.

  He couldn’t be distant. It wasn’t just that I needed to complete two more blood exchanges with him. Whether because his emotions were infiltrating my own or otherwise, his sorrow was breaking my fucking heart.

  His uncertainty occupied my every thought, accompanied by frustration and yearning in turn.

  I felt terrible, and yet regretting what I did to save Tommy was ludicrous.

  A one-hundred-and-fifty-year-old vampire creeping around his own home was equally ludicrous…

  Maybe he just needed more space.

  Now I was mostly healed, returning to the estate may be best.

  I slowly got to my feet. My head spun, but I forged through it, walking to my room just down the hall from Kyros’s. The damage to my ears and general blood loss had set me back in adapting to the changes in my senses after the fourth exchange.

  I stared into the shadows of the sprawling house. The house wasn’t a mansion by any description. The spaces were minimalist and efficient with ingenious custom additions that gave the home a unique edge. The décor was modern, but the natural textures and earthy palette with occasional splashes of colour lent the space ample warmth. The property perched on the cliff tops overlooking Lyall Bay. The birthday gift was kind of perfect for the crown prince of the Sundulus clan.

  Through the shadows of the hall and the heavy wooden door at the end, I could feel Kyros focusing on me.

  I was focusing on him focusing on me.

  This was ridiculous.

  Scrolling through to Fred’s number, saved under Butler Badass, I hesitated.

  I’d hurt Kyros a lot. Even if I couldn’t regret the action. Even if I’d do it all over again to save Tommy… when I decided to enter Fyrlia territory alone, to actively prevent him from following me there, I’d cut the cord between us.

  He was adrift.

  Be the bigger person.

  I whispered, knowing full-well he could hear. “I’m sorry that you feel so shitty after what happened with Clan Fyrlia. I think you need space, so I’m calling Fred to come get me and take me back to the es—”

  The door to his room slammed open against the wall. Into the wall.<
br />
  Kyros stalked out, stopping halfway down the hall. He crossed his arms, and I swallowed hard as my eyes roamed over his bare chest. Sweatpants on this vampire should be illegal. The ridges of his abs disappeared under the dark waistband, and I dragged my gaze back to his arms and the expanse of his pecs.

  The current I hadn’t felt since the fourth thrall ended began to vibrate again.

  Oh yeah. The blood bond definitely wanted our pelvises on speaking terms.

  Having been there once with Kyros, I was in no way adverse to a repeat performance. Especially because it would close the emotional gap between us to some degree. Or was it unwise to use sex for that reason?

  “You will not leave this house.” His deep voice rumbled down the hall.

  We just needed pistols to make this a stand-off.

  “Yes, I am. It’s for the best,” I said calmly.

  Kyros stepped forward, meadow-green eyes blazing. “Try it.”

  Rolling my eyes, I steadied myself on the wall to turn on my heel.

  Reaching my room, I ripped out the bag Fred dropped off last week, throwing my few belongings into it.

  The bag was torn from my hands.

  I blinked as it crashed against the far wall. Heat flooded my cheeks. “Kyros, you have some fucking nerve trying to stop me when you haven’t uttered a single word in a week.”

  His short laugh twisted with bitterness. “The problem in this is me?”

  Stay calm.

  Kyros was precariously close to losing control. Not only was that bad for the human in close proximity, but he’d feel worse afterward.

  “I’ll always do whatever is needed to save Tommy, just as you’d do for your family.” I tipped my head back to meet his gaze. “I’m not sorry for meeting Theodore, I’m not sorry for calling your siblings to stop you coming after me, but I am sorry for how it made you feel. As I’ve said.” Multiple times.

  Inwardly and outwardly, I watched him struggle for control over his alpha power. His body shook with the effort. Closing my eyes, I sent him calm, soothing thoughts. We’d managed to send each other cautionary vibes a few times, and his emotions gave me strength two weeks ago. I wasn’t sure if calm thoughts would be any help right now, but it was worth a try.

  When I peeked again, his shaking had stopped.

  Good. “It’s best if I go—”

  His roar shook a painting off the wall.

  Not good!

  My heart erupted into a flurry, and my legs folded. I sank onto the bed behind me, wide eyes locked on the furious Vissimo.

  He took one look at me, cutting off the roar, and his anguish swept through me, leaving a heartsick ache in its path that belonged to both of us.

  Why was this so damn hard? Why couldn’t he understand that I didn’t blame him for not saving me? I’d saved myself. He was furious that I’d made him powerless in the equation. I got it.

  If the tables were turned, he’d have zero qualms locking me in a room to go save his family.

  Kyros strode to the door, gripping the framing. It cracked under his hand, and his shoulders heaved as he said, “Do not leave this house.”

  He wanted me here but didn’t want anything to do with me?

  Kyros felt inadequate. Welcome to the fucking club. No one but Kyros could make himself feel worthy again, certainly not me. This was his battle.

  And yet I hated witnessing such uncertainty in someone who’d walked this earth for so long. This bottomless, falling feeling was horrible. It was like he’d given up the right to our blood bond.

  I sighed. “I’ll stay if you sit down and talk to me tomorrow morning instead of waiting until I fall asleep to leave for work. You’re one hundred and fifty years old, not thirty.”

  Apparently the thirties were a hard time for Vissimo.

  He didn’t turn. “You want to negotiate? Here’s a negotiation for you, Basilia. Stay in the house, and I won’t kill the Indebted who failed to protect you on the estate.”

  I stopped moving. Stopped breathing. “You wouldn’t do that.”

  Evie would be the first in the firing line. When I misled her, it was in the knowledge Kyros would never cross that line and hurt her because of my actions.

  The vampire glanced over his shoulder, fangs lengthening. “Test me.”

  I stood, staggering slightly with dizziness. “So, what? You’re trapping me here?”

  “You can’t be trusted not to put yourself in danger. You’ll remain in my personal territory until that trust is earned again. Look at it however you want.”

  He was there one moment and gone the next.

  The door to his room slammed.

  Sitting heavily, I stared at my hands. What the actual fuck?

  I couldn’t be trusted to put my safety first? I only had one person whose needs I put above my own. Kyros had eight of them.

  Yet guilt rose hard and fast.

  You can’t be trusted.

  Little did Kyros know just how true those words were. When I got back to the estate, I wouldn’t just be picking up where I left off with my grandmother’s legacy of winning Ingenium.

  Nope.

  Two weeks ago, I pretty much handed Clan Fyrlia everything they needed to win the game. Unless I put Clan Sundulus back in the game somehow, not only was my grandmother’s work and death for nothing, but most of Kyros’s family would be murdered. I couldn’t let either of those things happen. Equilibrium had to be restored.

  So Kyros was right—yes—I couldn’t be trusted.

  Just not for the reasons he thought.

  2

  I inched forward, peering over the cliff edge at the ocean crashing below. In the distance, to the left, the golden shores of Lyall Bay called.

  My head spun and I closed my eyes, inching away. My ears were mostly healed according to Dr Olivia. Tests had confirmed permanent damage to the canal. I couldn’t hear a whisper at farther than fifty metres away. Considering human norms were a few metres, I wasn’t shattered over the disability, but the news devastated Kyros; one more punch to the stomach. I’d genuinely feared for Olivia’s life when she presented the results. Poor woman.

  A safe distance from the drop, I opened my eyes again and settled into my senses practice. I worked to stretch each individually and then mute them one by one. I worked on operating two at once. Looking as far out to sea as possible, I did my best to block out the crashing noise of waves. Once I achieved that, I dialled each sense in the opposite direction, pulling in my vision to the grass by my feet while flaring my hearing to maximum despite the tender twinge of protest.

  After repeating this for paired combinations of each sense, I returned to sight and sound, adding touch to the mix. Holding the sensation of wind on my skin at a medium, I proceeded to juggle the three around, dialling them up and down in turn.

  I was a shit juggler.

  Blowing out a breath, I walked to the house, aka my prison. The cabin fever was real. Kyros had cooled off from our talk three days ago though, so when he woke, I’d open the estate talk again.

  I had to.

  I’d ignored Tommy’s calls for the last week, texting her that I was with Kyros and couldn’t talk. She’d read between the lines, but I needed to see her with every fibre of my being. And I had so many freakin’ apologies to make—to the Indebted—that I didn’t know where to start.

  I shat on a lot of friendships to save my most important one.

  “Kyros! Wake up. We brought pizza.”

  I wrenched to a halt, my eyes lifting to the house. His siblings were here. At least one. And generally they—

  “Why are you still asleep?” another asked.

  —moved in a pack.

  Shit. Just what I needed.

  Their brother wasn’t asleep, but maybe our talk could wait until tomorrow. It was my turn to avoid him—and his family who would soon be dead unless I could undo the damage I’d caused, and fast.

  How long until they figured out the truth?

  Maybe Fyrlia would tell
them before that happened. King Mikael couldn’t wait to turn Kyros against me.

  I managed a single step toward the hidden garden I found two days ago.

  “Basi!”

  A wincing glance confirmed Lalitta was waving at me from where she stood in the bay windows of the open kitchen-dining area.

  Fuck my life.

  “Oh, hey,” I said weakly, wobbling as I pivoted back to my initial route.

  Neelan appeared next to his sister. Then Gerome and Dierdre.

  I picked up Safina’s dry voice and Francesca’s higher whine.

  “Darling,” Rory purred as soon as I walked through the patio door.

  I grunted in reply, throwing myself on the couch next to Lionel—by far my top pick for most empathetic sibling. Lalitta was the sweetest person I’d ever met, but she didn’t pick up on low moods and her chatter always remained at high.

  Lionel wrapped an arm around my shoulders. “What’s happening, babe?”

  Shrugging, I mumbled, “Nothing much.”

  “I don’t buy that for a second.” His voice was low though everyone could hear.

  Maybe I shouldn’t have chosen Lionel to sit next to. He’d make me cry.

  I cleared my throat, blinking rapidly. “Your brother hates me. But also won’t let me leave this house. I nearly died seventeen days ago while killing the man my best friend loves.”

  Silence reigned.

  Gerome whistled low.

  “Yep.” I let my head thump back.