Death Game: Supernatural Battle (Vampire Towers Book 3)

by Kelly St Clare

  I’d betrayed him, all of them. I’d stalled while scrambling to figure out a solution.

  Maybe I knew, even back then, that I couldn’t handle the look on Kyros’s face.

  I dipped my head and turned to leave.

  “Back out,” Kyros hissed.

  Tears welled in my eyes. I blinked, forcing them down. I couldn’t leave things like this. Desperation clawed at my throat.

  “The threat to Tommy’s life was immediate,” I said, my chest tightening as the stinging behind my eyes swelled. “The threat to the life of your siblings and father was not.”

  His voice dripped with ice. “I said get the fuck out.”

  Facing him again, I dropped my head.

  So I wouldn’t need to witness the decay of whatever messed up and beautiful bond we’d shared.

  So the sight of his disgust couldn’t haunt my every waking moment for the rest of time.

  Stooped, I shuffled backward from the chamber.

  “I’m out,” I told the table surrounded by my grandmother’s friends.

  They stared back at me.

  It took two days to work up the courage to arrange this meeting. Since Kyros washed his hands of me, I’d thrown myself into estate work in a frenzy even Tommy couldn’t contain.

  I’d failed my grandmother.

  I’d failed these people who had fought the Vissimo every day for nearly three decades.

  I’d failed Kyros and his family.

  I’d failed the Indebted.

  In another fifteen days, Kyros’s hatred of me would be sealed with the triggering of the end cascade.

  “You’re out of what exactly?” Lady Treena asked.

  “Level 66?” Dame Burke said, eyes sharp on me.

  My mind never left my misery these days, so talking was nearly easy. “And their group.”

  Mr Hothen swore.

  “How?” Mrs Syrre whispered.

  Sir Olythieu’s eyes narrowed. “They know?”

  I shook my head. “Not about this group. I went about Sandra. It was past time.”

  Turning to Mr Hothen, I closed my eyes. “F got to her first. I’m so sorry.”

  Shock blanketed his features.

  Without a word, he left the room.

  “Poor woman,” Mrs Syrre said, dashing away a few tears.

  Sandra Hoyt was just another person I’d failed. I’d promised she would be okay. I was so determined to do right by her, but the rug was pulled from beneath me. The remaining triplets would have worked on her.

  Her last moments would have been filled with horror and pain.

  I’d been sick too many times to count in the last couple of days.

  Mr Dithis leaned back. “The state of Ingenium is the same?”

  That right there was why the world should fear the people around this table. Death and fear surrounded them at every turn, and here they were, fighting with cold calculation.

  I nodded. “Fifteen days.”

  “The end is in fifteen days,” Dame Burke asked, blinking.

  Sir Olythieu chimed. “Just over two weeks to establish equilibrium again then.”

  Equilibrium.

  That was all well and good. My plan had centred on completing six exchanges with Kyros so I could free the Indebted and employ them for protection.

  “What I don’t understand,” Lady Treena said, “is if you betrayed them badly enough to get kicked out entirely, why you aren’t dead.”

  Because I was his true mate.

  My grandmother’s friends had forgiven me for a few sympathising comments toward the Vissimo. If they knew what happened with Kyros. If they knew how I felt for a vampire, they’d never look at me again. They might not join forces against me, but they’d damn-well slam the door in my face. If I was in their shoes, I’d do the same. It was too risky to discuss matters with me openly, never knowing when Kyros may take a dip into my mind. Or when I’d confess everything.

  Maybe I deserved that door to slam shut.

  If my grandmother was here, I wouldn’t be able to look her in the face. Guilt and self-loathing were my constant companions since her death. Only Kyros had balanced those feelings, and I hadn’t realised until too late.

  Decision made, I dug around in my bag. I drew out the Vissimo book on mating rituals. Riffling through the contents, I stopped at the fifth exchange and placed it in the middle of the table.

  “Me and Kyros,” I said.

  Chairs scraped back as they craned to look at the book. Dame Burke studied the title and snatched the book up, gaze darting over the first few pages.

  Her eyes widened.

  She glanced up at me, her mouth ajar. “You’re mated to him?”

  The others gasped and crowded around her, reaching for the book in turn.

  I watched as they skimmed through, reading a bit from each exchange. The location thing, the feelings, the changes to my senses, and the increases in my strength and speed. They absorbed all of it.

  I watched as their expression turned from confusion to shock to horror and disgust.

  My grandmother’s six friends focused on me.

  I deserved everything they were thinking and feeling. As surely as I’d played Kyros, I’d played these people too. King Julius was right when he titled me arrogant human. Even if my intentions were sound, I’d handled everything like a fool.

  No wonder they questioned my loyalty.

  I had no idea who I was loyal to anymore. Because how could I want to help both sides at the same time?

  The risk for this group to trust me was too high. They were businesspeople well and truly, and I’d become the bad investment.

  I’m so sorry, Grandmother.

  What a train wreck. Twenty-seven years of sacrifice down the drain in a matter of weeks. All because I’d taken over.

  Crack.

  Dame Burke gasped, and I dropped my gaze to the edge of the table. Chips of wood came away as I removed my hands.

  “You’re one of them,” Mr Dithis whispered.

  But I wasn’t.

  And I wasn’t human either. Not anymore.

  I swallowed hard and dropped my eyes.

  Leaving the files, I retrieved the book that had toppled from Dame Burke’s hands.

  And left.

  17

  Tommy plonked down in the seat opposite me.

  I stared across the desk at her.

  “Snap out of it,” she said.

  Returning my attention to my computer screen, I resumed typing the email. The great thing about owning international companies is emails came through at all hours of the day, so there was always work to do.

  I had no idea what the time was. I didn’t want to know.

  “It’s been five days, Basi. You feel like shit, and I get that. But I feel like shit at the moment, so you can’t.”

  I cocked a brow, signing off on the latest email before sending it. “You’re miserable, and so I can’t be?”

  “Correct. I claimed it before whatever fight you clearly had with Kyros.”

  Fight. “That doesn’t quite do it justice,” I said sarcastically.

  “Talk.”

  If I was going to talk to anyone, it would be Tommy. That I didn’t want to, told me just how much I needed to. “To save you, I made a deal.”

  Her eyes darted. “A deal with Clan Fyrlia?”

  Focusing on Tom Hanks’s autobiography, I inclined my head.

  “To save me?”

  I nodded again.

  “Making a deal with Fyrlia when you’re sexing Sundulus is a big no-no, I’m assuming,” she said, tapping her lip. “Kyros found out about it.”

  His entire family. “Big time.”

  Tommy stood, pacing. “Was the deal you made win or lose Ingenium stuff?”

  I levelled her with a steady look.

  She sank back into the seat. “Fark, Basil.”

  Fark, indeed.

  Her mouth set. “They can’t end the game before you win though. How do we even things up agai
n?”

  I loved my best friend. “That’s what I’ve been trying to do for the last few weeks.”

  “I see.” She tapped her mouth.

  She did?

  “Then I revert to my original statement,” she said, bounding up again. “Snap out of it.”

  I was trying. I just felt so damn lonely. And angry. And full of regret.

  Blood bond aside, Kyros had occupied a space inside of me. When he was butting his nose into my life each day, I hadn’t realised just how large that chunk was.

  The void now was big.

  Really big.

  Tommy yanked on my hair.

  “Ow!” I shot her a glare.

  “Listen good, Basil,” she said, hunkering down. “You made that choice to save me, and I’ll never be able to repay that, so as a poor substitute, you’re about to receive the pep talk to end all pep talks.”

  Oh, brother.

  “How long until Sundulus loses?” she pressed.

  Thirteen days if the forecast for the end cascade proved correct. Focusing on the pay schedule for my Churchill team—who I hadn’t contacted all week—I muttered, “Nearly two weeks.”

  She brought both hands down on my knees, and I jumped.

  “Then you still have time. There’s time to win him back even if you can’t win the game.”

  I frowned. Win him back? “Do you even like Kyros?”

  “No. But I hated him before, so total dislike is a leap in the right direction. I think I could barely tolerate him given ample time.”

  Okay.

  “The point is,” she said, sighing, “that you’re legit miserable without him, and he cares for you enough to get your best friend back. From what I’ve read in that mating rituals book, this is a permanent kind of deal.”

  We could still be apart though—as torturous as that was. The pain in my chest from our separation surged each day. I’d considered standing outside the tower to see if the pain would dissipate, but Kyros would feel me there.

  If the sensation continued to heighten, I might not have a choice.

  “He is the game,” I managed to force out. “He’ll never speak to me again unless I correct what I did.”

  Tommy sat back on her heels. “Well, how do you do that?”

  “That’s just it. I can’t.”

  Fyrlia caught me digging around Sandra somehow. Sundulus had kicked me out. I was fresh out of ideas, and the oldies hadn’t been in touch since I upended the I’m Kyros’s mate and have vampire powers bin over their heads.

  “Tom,” I said in a low voice, “I let Grandmother down so badly. I can’t win for her. I can’t even restore balance. And without that, Kyros won’t look twice at me.”

  The list of people I’d failed played over and over in my mind like a horror movie without end. In the couple of hours of sleep my body demanded, their faces haunted me. I’d avoided everyone—Laurel, the Indebted, Tommy, and even Fred.

  Tommy gripped my chin, smooshing my cheeks. “Where’s the Basilia I know?” she snapped.

  I stared at her.

  “You don’t like something, you change it. You want something, you get it. That’s the spoiled brat I know.”

  I pried free of her grip, rubbing my jaw. “That started great.”

  “It was all great,” she said savagely. “Tell me, what do you want?”

  We were nose to nose, and I felt my heartbeat thudding in my ears.

  “No lies, Basil,” Tommy said. “Don’t tell me what you think I want to hear. Or what others expect of you. What the fuck do you want?”

  I closed my eyes.

  “Open them!”

  Jolting again, I obeyed. “Kyros.”

  Kudos to my friend, her nose didn’t even wrinkle.

  “You want him,” she repeated. “Then get Kyros.”

  Words slipped from my mouth. “If I get him, then I betray my grandmother and everything she worked for.”

  I slumped in defeat as my voice trailed off, avoiding Tommy’s intent chestnut gaze.

  Tommy blew out a breath and perched on the desk. “That’s a moderate problem, I’ll admit.”

  There was nothing moderate about it.

  “Your grandmother hated Vissimo. And you’re literally banging one.”

  “This is the worst pep talk I’ve ever had.” I tried to stand and she shoved me back in the chair.

  “You leave when I say you leave.”

  Uh, pep-talk Tommy was scary. “I can’t give up everything she worked for, Tom. She died because of this bullshit. I tried my best to keep things going, but I failed. I’ve failed everyone.”

  Tommy’s eyes narrowed. “If you won the game? What was the plan?”

  I blinked a few times. “The plan was that I’d make that decision in twenty years when I was smarter. Because winning would take at least that long.”

  “You’re smart now, Basi. And confident too. You’re just doubting yourself.”

  Felt like I’d been doubting myself for twenty-one years and nine months.

  Tommy tapped my temple. “The answer is in here. As much as I’d like to advocate three months of ice-cream musical dates to get over the fucker, that’s not going to happen. You have a deadline, girl. Best get going.”

  Two weeks.

  Kyros could be out of my reach in thirteen days. Was there a chance to win him back? Tommy gave me hope for that possibility. In a weird yet effective way.

  “Best get going,” she repeated.

  I peered at her. “You already said that.”

  “Yeah, but in motivational things, they always chant a slogan. Haven’t you seen Good Will Hunting?” She slapped my knee. “Best get going.”

  “Ouch. Stop hitting me!”

  “Best get going.”

  I stood, trying to fend her off as she herded me around the table.

  “Best get going.”

  Snorting, I dodged her. “Seriously, stop it.”

  She started whacking my body, chasing me to the door as she continued her chant.

  “Oh my god, Tommy! I’m getting going. Or whatever. Stop.” Using my extra speed, I caught the book she’d tossed at my head.

  The book fell from my hands to the ground, and the heading of the chapter caught my eye.

  Rights of Human Mates

  I paused, staring at the page as Tommy continued her beatdown.

  She panted, stopping the abuse. “Best get… Wait, what happened?”

  A stillness came over me. It was the calmest I’d felt in five days. I bent down to pick the book up.

  “Tom.”

  “Yeah?” She craned over my shoulder to read the heading. “Something got your brain juices squeezing?”

  “You have a beautiful way with words, my friend.” But yes, kind of.

  “What do you think I need to do?” I asked slowly.

  Tommy snorted. “I ain’t the billionaire here.”

  “No.” I agreed seriously, taking her hand. “You’re my friend, and the best one I’ll ever have. I trust your judgment where I don’t always trust my own. What am I doing wrong?”

  The smile faded from her lips. “You’re catering to everyone else’s expectations.”

  I needed to address those expectations then.

  And decide what I could live with. Because she was right. I had less than two weeks left.

  “I’m heading out,” I told her, striding for the door.

  Tommy didn’t let go of my hand, and I dragged her along with me. “Just one thing before you do.”

  She licked her lips when I stopped and glanced back.

  “Your grandmother, Basil,” Tommy said, smiling. “She was a hell of a woman. She left a hell of a legacy. But she isn’t here. If she was, I think you’d be surprised by what she’d have to say. Remember that Agatha Le Spyre had faults just like any other person, and most importantly, remember that you’re not her. You can’t be satisfied with life if you’re chasing after her definition of happiness and success. The woman I knew wouldn’t have exp
ected you to. In fact, she’d have some cutting things to say if she caught you doing it.”

  I closed my eyes, allowing her words to seep into my bones for later. There was truth in them. I just needed to find that conviction for myself. “Thank you.”

  “Any time. Where are you going?”

  Where else did I go when my feelings overwhelmed me?

  I opened my eyes. “The theme park. Don’t wait up.”

  I stared at the text and hit send.

  I’m sorry

  Saying more than that felt like an excuse.

  I’m sorry but I did what I felt was right. I’m sorry, but I’m going to fight to make things right now.

  I felt Kyros focus as he read the message, then listened in on his bitter response.

  It was the response I’d expected, but it still hurt.

  Bad.

  “Here are the boxes, Miss Le Spyre,” Rosie said. “Are you certain you don’t require assistance?”

  A string of my staff entered my grandmother’s suite clasping flattened cardboard boxes. They began to set them up.

  I inhaled deeply and glanced around my grandmother’s room, the scent of lavender not as strong as it once was.

  “No, thank you,” I answered. “But please bring up a few vases of lavender.”

  She curtsied, and I grabbed my phone, plugging it into the speaker I’d carried in.

  The slow swing of Nat King Cole’s “Unforgettable” filled the room.

  As the staff finished making up boxes behind me, Rosie reappeared with the vases of lavender. They retreated from the room, leaving me alone.

  I opened Grandmother’s closet, a heaviness settling on my shoulders as the soulful lyrics washed over me.

  The last tangible signs of my grandmother’s personal life were in this room. It was a life that a select few ever saw. Only family, really, and Lady Treena. Even the rest of the oldies never stepped foot in her private suite. That was the kind of woman my grandmother was. Removing her things from this space felt like I was removing her from my life. The jewellery, the clothing, the smell, the décor—the way things were arranged as she’d liked them.

  She’d always slept here. Her presence filled every corner. In my memories of her, she’d occupied this space and always would in my heart.