Blood Trial: Supernatural Battle (Vampire Towers Book 1)

by Kelly St Clare

  I shook my head and pushed down on his arm like it was a ticket barrier before striding to the desk. “Not me.”

  He followed in my wake. “What was your last address?”

  Yeah right.

  Sitting down, I opened Monocle. “Hey, why have I got appointments today? It’s the other clan’s turn today. We can’t sign contracts.”

  Kyros waved a hand. “Only the actual purchase and signing of contracts have to happen on our turn.”

  “What if I do a prelim and butter someone up and your clan doesn’t land on the right suburb for ages? Do I just string the client along?”

  “Essentially. It’s part of the game. We need to be ready to move at any moment. We have entire teams dedicated to predicting the probability of the next rolls. Those probabilities influence the appointments we schedule for you, amongst other things.”

  I had a feeling the amongst other things part could fill fifty books. I eyed the vampire. Kyros wore passion well. The sight made my stomach flip in a girly way, not with the intense lower stomach tightening attraction I’d always felt around him.

  “And good try,” he said, leaning on his closed fists.

  “I’m not giving you Clint’s address. You’ll eat him.”

  Kyros jerked. I had a second to wonder if my number was up before he threw his head back. Laughter boomed from him in waves.

  He found that funny.

  Looking heavenward, I returned to Monocle, ignoring him.

  My first visit was to a young professional couple in Green. I tried to recall the game board on the monitor upstairs. Surely Green was only a few moves away from Orange. Was the probability of rolling a three or four very high? Or was I being given the improbable cases because they assumed I’d suck?

  Likely.

  “If that made you laugh, you need to get out more,” I informed him, typing in the address of my first appointment. I had three today.

  “You think?” he said in that voice that never failed to rumble through me.

  “I know.”

  Whoa, this couple in Green was on fire. Twenty-seven years old and both were orthopaedic registrars, mortgage paid. No kids yet, but that could be a selling point. If they planned to have kids, they could be on the lookout for something bigger. Or when they became orthopaedic surgeons, they might want a house in Blue or Black because they’d be loaded and society was programmed to think the goal in life was to have the biggest house possible.

  Kyros murmured, “There’s not a lot of time off in Ingenium.”

  I cast him a quick look, unsure how to interpret the admission. “A lucky thing you’re passionate about it.”

  “You think I’m passionate about this battle?”

  Some might say battle, some might say Yahtzee.

  The memory of his grin when I’d given him the news about 190 Friar Close popped into my head. “Yes, I believe you are.”

  He perched on the desk. For the first time in our acquaintance, I didn’t mind him staying.

  Kyros watched me closely. “This game is all I’ve ever known.”

  I clicked on the most recent valuation of the property in Green, skimming the contents. “That’s bound to happen when you’re one hundred and forty-nine and the game exists because of you.” I glanced up in time to catch his surprise.

  He didn’t speak.

  Was Kyros finally rendered speechless?

  In a moment when I should feel victorious, I just felt bad for him. The battle between the two clans wasn’t his fault—it wasn’t even the queen’s if harems were an established part of Vissimo culture. It was the fault of two possessive jerk kings who couldn’t see that the important thing was the health of the child and not who the baby belonged to. To grow up knowing thousands of people worked each day because you’d been born. And then to start playing the game, too, never knowing anything else…

  Yes, indeed. Call me conflicted. Call me any number of things. I, Basilia Le Spyre, pitied the man I hated.

  His throat worked.

  I returned to my screen, opening the notes section to type out a few points of interest. “For the record, you look nothing like the other king. You have your mother’s eyes, but the same skin tone and hair colour as King Julius.”

  His chest lifted. I only caught it because I was paying such close attention. Which dug at my pride well and truly.

  “King Julius has dark hair,” Kyros said after a beat.

  Strands of my hair fell in front of my eyes and I tossed the blonde tresses back. “He has toffee undertones. If I can see them, you surely can.”

  Kyros stood for a while, hands in his pockets. “What were you thanking me for earlier?”

  Whoa, subject change much?

  I tipped my head back to peruse him. “For reassuring my friend when I couldn’t.”

  He nodded. “I see.”

  “Good for you. Now get out of here. My boss is a vampire and has an attitude problem.”

  “I was thinking we might get through one civil conversation too,” he said drily.

  I opened the next file. “I hate to disappoint you.”

  “Mmm, maybe that’s what I like about you, Miss Tetley. And thank you.”

  Lifting my head, I stared at the spot where Kyros had stood a second earlier.

  What for?

  19

  I swung my door open and studied Laurel—my guard, driving instructor, and paid friend. I spent most of the day with her guarding me while on prelim visits.

  I grimaced at the Indebted’s get-up. “You can’t wear that. The only person who can pull that look off is Jessica Alba in Dark Angel.”

  Kyros wasn’t wrong about Laurel—five minutes in her company had told me she was the most human Vissimo I’d met.

  “What’s wrong with it?” she demanded, staring down at her black leather ensemble, complete with gloves.

  I snatched up my second-choice outfit off the bed. “Put this on. Then people will know you’re not in the club to assassinate them.”

  She smiled, showing many white, gleaming teeth. “But I am.”

  I swallowed, reminding myself not to get too comfortable. Even though she watched Truth Ranges sometimes and ate sushi.

  So far, there were only ticks next to her name.

  “It’s blue,” she stated, surveying the outfit.

  “Yeah, I was only given white and royal blue clothes.”

  “Kyros’s favourite colours,” Laurel said, peering at the two racks.

  I scowled. “They’re what?”

  “Who gave them to you?”

  Angelica.

  Who had yet to apologise. Seeing as she’d delivered the clothing mere hours after her part in humiliating me, I had to conclude she wasn’t sorry whatsoever despite her sheepish act.

  I wasn’t sure after the Level 66 stunt, but the colours of the clothing confirmed my suspicion.

  Kyros’s aunt was playing matchmaker.

  Which made zero sense. Kyros and I had mad lust. Nothing more. Actually, a lot less than nothing. So many walls sat between us after a week of knowing each other that I shuddered at the thought of how many would be there after two.

  “Never mind who,” I replied, setting my jaw. “Change.”

  Laurel erupted into a blurring flurry. Leather smacked me in the face, but when the vampire stopped, she was zipped inside the royal-blue tube dress. She pulled her long and dead-straight black hair forward over her shoulders.

  “Respect. Changing that fast must be super handy.”

  She surveyed me. “You look good. Blondes always look good in white. Brunettes look like demons trying to draw innocent people into their lair.”

  My laughter was polite only—was that what she did though?

  Beast chimed, and I leaped across the bed to reach him.

  I hope you’re wearing sexy underwear for me.

  I grinned extra wide at Tommy’s message, knowing Kyros would read these messages.

  I typed back:

  If underwear doesn�
��t cover me from belly button to mid-thigh, I’m not interested.

  Ha! See how he liked that visual. I plugged Beast back in. I wouldn’t take the archaic device with me tonight. The fucker would just die.

  “What’s so funny?”

  Kyros would be imagining me in granny undies.

  I cleared my throat. “Tommy’s here. Let’s go.”

  I slipped into some nude heels. I couldn’t see a brand name, but quality heels were like walking on clouds. These were cloud shoes. Grabbing my one hundred bucks for the night, I tucked the cash into my bra like the classy woman I was.

  The white number I had on was a cold-shoulder dress—a full tight sleeve covered one arm, while the other was bare. The garment ended slightly above mid-thigh—when I stood still, so it would be perfect club length when I hit the dance floor.

  Laurel put her black combat boots back on—which looked pretty fucking good with the blue dress—so I remained silent, and we beelined for the elevator.

  Ding!

  “Do you go out to nightclubs all the time?” Laurel asked as we stepped inside.

  I rearranged my bra. I was too poor for a stick-on bra these days, so I’d worn a normal bra and tucked the strap on the bare shoulder side of the dress away so it couldn’t be seen. “Used to. With Tommy.”

  “Why has she got a man’s name?”

  “Why don’t you ask her and see what she says?” I tipped my head back, letting the soft ends of my high ponytail tickle my back.

  “That sounds like a trap.”

  I smirked. “What about you, Laurel? You go out much?”

  She shrugged a shoulder. “Not really. I work a lot.”

  Said every Vissimo ever. Royal families aside, I felt kind of sorry for everyone involved in Ingenium.

  “I know you’re on the job tonight, but I hope you can still have some fun.”

  Doubt entered her voice. “Maybe.”

  Ding!

  The doors had barely opened, and I was squeezing out to embrace my night of freedom. Tommy pushed off the opposite wall, looking killer in a rose-gold cami tucked into a leopard-print mini. If I wore that, I’d look like I charged by the hour. Tom looked adorable and elegant.

  “Pulling it off,” I informed my friend.

  “I wasn’t allowed to wear leather, but she can wear leopard print,” Laurel said, frowning.

  I waved between the two. “Laurel, this is Tommy. Tommy, Laurel.”

  Tommy stepped forward. “Basi believes that only Jessica Alba from Dark Angel can wear black leather.”

  Laurel snorted. “That’s exactly what she said.”

  I caught Tommy’s approving look. She was already team Laurel. But then my bestie accepted anyone who was decent to others, which was part of why I loved her.

  “Where are we going?” I asked, itching to step outside the tower for a few hours of normalcy.

  “I figure we’re both poor, so we should organise our crawl around happy hours.” She led the way out of the tower, glancing back. “Laurel, you’ll have to slum it with us tonight.”

  She threw Tommy a small smile. “I don’t have much money anyway—I’m paying off my father’s debt.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. I pay for my pop’s retirement village bill and help with my father’s mortgage, so I feel ya. It’s a hard gig.”

  Laurel threw her an inscrutable look. “Thank you. It is hard sometimes.”

  Tommy cracked a grin. “Thank me by enjoying yourself tonight. And helping Basi to enjoy herself. She either loses the plot or takes forever to loosen up.”

  “What! I do not.”

  “She’s uptight,” Laurel agreed.

  Given current events, I was allowed to be a little fucking tense.

  Tommy hummed. “Always has been.”

  I whacked her arm. “Don’t gang up on me.”

  “Loosen up and we won’t.”

  After consuming three bottles of wine recently, I really wasn’t ready for another bender yet.

  We passed Montgomery’s and Tommy grabbed my hand soon after, dragging me down an alley.

  I peered at a flickering street lamp as we passed. “Oh my god, I slept here once.”

  Laurel made a sound in the back of her throat. “You what?”

  Tommy scanned the area. “You’re kidding me. Here?” Laughter bubbled out of her. “I still can’t believe you did that.”

  That Basi lived another life. “I didn’t know it was near a club. And to be fair, it was more that I accidentally dozed off from sheer exhaustion.”

  Live music pounded out of two metal doors down the very end of the alley. A bouncer stood guard but ushered us in without checking IDs. It did make me wonder how old Laurel was though. Her eyes weren’t blazing, which I associated with greater control. Kyros’s didn’t blaze unless his emotion was heightened. Angelica’s eyes glowed a bit.

  Was Laurel stronger than Angie?

  I tore my eyes from the vampire as she slid me a curious look. Shit, I couldn’t let my guard down around her. Laurel belonged to Kyros—was literally Indebted to him. She’d repeat anything of importance. And who knew what her orders were when it came to me.

  “Shots!” Tommy roared.

  It was a shot night? Crap.

  After knocking back a tequila, I settled into shouted conversations with the others over the acoustic band. Familiarity at last—even with the guest Vissimo. Tommy always had great work stories and had Laurel in stitches recounting the stains she’d found on the sheets that week. I could feel tension draining from me.

  My best friend was magic.

  I sipped at one of my two rum and Cokes—a happy hour deal I had to take advantage of on my budget because turned out I couldn’t afford strawberry mojitos anymore. That didn’t sting as much as I thought it would. Perhaps this moment was a munched version of what I wanted when I left the estate. In most ways, my independence was less than it had been. But this, buying a drink with money I’d earned, was cause for a small celebration.

  Maybe a big one… “I need something with a faster beat,” I shouted. “Let’s go to Cooks.”

  “But I’m laying groundwork,” Tommy complained.

  I rolled my eyes at Laurel. “She’s after musicians at the moment.”

  “So miserable, so in need of guidance,” my friend said, smirking over the lip of her glass.

  Laurel wrinkled her nose. “You enjoy that?”

  “Right now. You like a big, strong man?”

  The vampire shrugged. “More than one. But always stronger, yes. I like to be thrown around.”

  I choked on an ice cube. Laurel was up in a flash, pounding on my back. The ice cube flew across the table.

  The vampire resumed her seat, folding her hands in her lap.

  Never mind that I’d nearly died, Tommy was busting a gut over the comment.

  “Laurel, I think I love you already,” she declared, holding up her vodka and cranberry—rich bitch. “See you shrews at the bottom.”

  “But I’m still on my first drink,” I objected.

  The others ignored me.

  Ugh.

  I knocked back the rest of my first drink, and by the time I’d finished my second rum and Coke, the others were grabbing their things. I slid off my stool and hurried after Tommy and Laurel, winking at the bass player. Maybe Tommy was onto something with musicians. Though he was about the most un-musician looking musician ever.

  Dammit, he was wearing a tie. I really did have an ironic attraction to the guys I professed to dislike.

  We left the alley and weaved around a few blocks to a nightclub I’d been to several times. Tommy began speaking to a guy on the way, and I waggled my brows at Laurel.

  “Does she know him?” she asked.

  I considered that. “Tommy feels the mating call constantly.”

  When I last spoke to her, she was considering serious steps with what’s-his-name.

  “Tommy,” I yelled. “What happened to that guy you’ve been seeing?”


  The man she was speaking to glared at her and made scarce.

  I snickered at her dark look.

  “You vage-blocker,” she said grumpily.

  I watched the dude wobble away. “He was hammered. You weren’t getting anywhere with him tonight. And don’t avoid the question.”

  She slid a look at Laurel. “His name was Dean, and I nipped it in the bud.”

  What about the Theodore guy? Didn’t she ditch Dean for him last week?

  Still, I took her hint. My friend barely spoke to me about this stuff. Laurel was accepted but not tested.

  “Sure. Shit happens, right?” I replied. “I’d buy you a consolatory drink, but I’m skint.”

  “Never thought I’d see the day,” Tommy said as we arrived at the next place.

  I fell quiet, burningly aware of Laurel’s presence. Now was not the time for Tommy to forget I was Miss Tetley for a reason.

  The bouncer asked for our IDs, and I made sure to angle mine away from certain vampire eyes.

  His eyes fell heavy on me. “The VIP area is open, Miss—”

  “That won’t be necessary,” I said smoothly.

  Nodding, he pulled back the red rope and let us pass.

  “This is more like it,” I shouted as we descended into the underground club. Flashing neon lights filled the space, lasers blasting in swirling designs over the black walls. Below us, happy masses pulsed in time to the thumping beat.

  A pleasant buzz had spread through me during our walk, and I was ready to dance.

  Priorities though.

  We squeezed our way to the opposite end of the dance floor, and I leaned over the bar, crossing my ankles as I bent them up in the air to lean forward. These were cloud heels, but my feet still appreciated the break.

  “How much are your tequila shots?” I asked the bartender.

  Tommy started laughing. I choked on one myself, knowing exactly what she was laughing at. Bitch.

  The bartender drawled a smile. “For you? How about one on the house?”

  “What about my friends?” I purred. Yes, purred.

  Thank you, rum.

  He inclined his head—clever fellow. “Of course, beautiful.”

  I winked at him. “Then I graciously accept.”