Blood Trial: Supernatural Battle (Vampire Towers Book 1)

by Kelly St Clare

  A wrinkle formed between my brows. “How does it make sense that you’re being punished for your father’s crime and commit crimes to pay off the debt? Messed up.”

  Laurel stumbled and shot me a real look.

  Funny how drinking with someone accelerated the friendship process. On closer inspection, Laurel wore her father’s debt, her job, like a cloak. The cloak was straight-backed and professional, though friendly and occasionally sarcastic.

  Then there were times the cloak came off, and I saw the young woman she could have been without being born into servitude. Actually, I kept forgetting she was probably old. Old woman.

  Laurel inhaled sharply and peered at the closest camera as we reached the car—a silver one parked in the far corner. Yellow L plates occupied the front and back windows. A few scratches marred the sides.

  I’d been given their trash car for driving lessons.

  The car’s lights flashed, and I slid into the passenger seat, tossing my full pack down by my feet. Never knew when an escape opportunity might present itself.

  I wasn’t worried that Kyros might be listening. He shouldn’t eavesdrop if he didn’t want to hear me starting a rebellion. “And for a race who supposedly reveres children, how does it make sense to make them slaves? That’s whack. Plus, I thought this clan operated legally.”

  “This clan does,” she said quietly. “The Indebted don’t.”

  Huh, so that’s how they got around the pesky law. Using Indebted to do the dirty work was the same as Kyros personally breaking the law in my book.

  Laurel didn’t respond to my first observation. It didn’t take a genius to figure out why. But her silence was enough agreement for me.

  I pursed my lips. “How old are you? If that’s not offensive to ask.”

  I watched as the vampire’s face shut down—the cloak had descended again. She turned the key in the ignition. This car had a key and an ignition. Old school.

  “Two hundred and eighty. Indebted for half of that,” she answered as the engine thrummed.

  “That’s disgusting,” I announced, making her jolt again. One hundred and forty years in servitude.

  “My father went berserk and killed ten children and their parents. It was a heinous crime. This is how Vissimo punish such crimes.”

  “The punishment should be confined to the person, not their children,” I said, my heart clenching at the thought of her continued servitude. That was messed up logic right there.

  “The crime wasn’t confined to adults. Why should the punishment be?” she replied in a wooden tone. “And it is just the eldest child who inherits the debt.”

  Just the eldest child. How nice of them.

  I could tell Laurel didn’t believe the words coming out of her mouth. She’d learned to say such things to appease others.

  “I have twenty million dollars left to pay off,” she said, pulling out of the park. “Another century and I should be free.”

  I reached out and placed my hand over hers on the wheel. I didn’t speak, squeezing her hand.

  The cloak dropped and—whoa—a red tear, blood, slipped down her cheek. She dashed it away so fast my brain tried to convince me I hadn’t seen it.

  Clearing my throat, I leaned back in the seat. “Minimum wage much?”

  She inhaled. “Depends on the job. The more dangerous, the quicker you pay off the debt. Being Indebted has a high mortality rate. I choose to live—which comes with longer servitude and lower pay.”

  “I hope you’re getting paid a flat mil for this driving lesson then. It’s unlikely you’ll make it to the end of the day.”

  Laurel snorted. “Nonsense. A car crash couldn’t kill me.”

  “Oh good,” I said politely.

  How did they die? Seemed bad manners to ask—so I’d save the question for Kyros.

  We reached the exit of the garage, and she indicated right.

  A man stepped in front of the car.

  Laurel cursed and slammed her foot down. We weren’t travelling fast, but the car screeched to a halt.

  The car settled on its back wheels with a jolt and I exhaled, lowering my hand from the dashboard.

  “What an idiot!” I shouted at the man.

  “Basi,” Laurel said in undertones.

  Squinting, I looked again.

  Oops.

  It was Jet Black. One of Kyros’s brothers. Gerome or Lionel, I couldn’t remember which.

  He beckoned to Laurel, who killed the engine and exited the vehicle without a word.

  Crap, did I get her in trouble by airing all my opinions on Indebted? My eyes widened as she passed Kyros’s brother the key. With a cursory glance at me, Laurel strode past the car and into the depths of the garage.

  Jet Black clambered in.

  “Kyros and his fucking sports cars,” he grumbled. “Who wants to be crammed into a tiny piece of metal? Big engines, big cabs. That’s what I’m about.”

  I didn’t doubt that. My interactions with Jet Black were thus far confined to him pushing Kyros’s buttons, him fighting Kyros, and him throwing me under the bus on Level 66.

  “What are you doing?” I demanded.

  He shifted around in the car seat to look at me.

  Kyros was bigger than him, and yet his brother appeared squished into this car where Kyros didn’t seem to have any issue getting into his. Jet Black’s eyes were bright blue like his father’s. He was muscular and tall like all the male Vissimo, but on a whole other scale to those I’d seen. Did the royal blood give him an extra boost? All Kyros’s siblings were more somehow—whether more muscular, ferocious, or beautiful.

  I’d been half asleep, and then half out of my mind after the Level 66 thing, but I recalled his eight siblings were scary as shit. This one, however, had a boyish quality to his features that made me want to relax. I didn’t trust it. I’d seen those deep-sea fish with the dangling light—angler fish. Their teeth were fucking sharp.

  The warmth Jet Black exuded was a trap.

  “I’m taking you for a driving lesson,” he said, blue eyes twinkling.

  I folded my arms over my seat belt. “That’s Laurel’s job.”

  “Not anymore.”

  I didn’t get paid enough to deal with these alpha fuckers on the weekends. “Will she still get compensated?”

  “No. She isn’t doing the work.”

  I clicked the button to release my belt and opened the door. “Then I’m not going.”

  He grabbed a loop of my white jean shorts and tugged me back into the seat. “Fine. She’ll get paid.”

  I arched a brow. He’d agreed too easily. He was always going to pay her. “Double.”

  Jet Black laughed. He wore hugging khakis and a tight tee. His shoulder-length black hair was confined at the nape of his neck. “I’m feeling generous today. Sure, why not.”

  Her wage probably just went from twenty-five dollars to fifty.

  “Why am I in the driver seat?” he asked. “I know how to drive. Let’s switch.”

  Uh.

  “Laurel was taking me to Gerry’s.”

  “The fuck is Gerry?”

  Rich people ignorance. “A hardware store…”

  His high brow cleared.

  Kyros’s brother had his mother’s skin tone. If any of the Vissimo I’d met were to fit the physical idealism of a vampire, it was Jet Black. Personality not so much—if he was really this playful.

  We switched places, and I set myself up behind the wheel, pulling in the seat. I’d learned where that lever was on Thursday.

  He waited until I was settled. “It’s nice to meet you, Basilia. My name’s Gerome.”

  Not Lionel then. “Just Basi.”

  “But the police called you Basilia, correct?”

  I thumped the wheel. “Does Kyros tell you guys everything or do you hack the cameras?”

  “Maybe we hack security. Maybe we have spies in his tower. Or maybe he tells us everything, and we do the same in return.”

  Was I meant to p
ick an answer? “I can’t imagine why he would tell you guys, what with the stunts you pull. Why are you really teaching me to drive?”

  His blue eyes glinted, mouth quirking on one side. “Why not? I could be feeling charitable. It will be a good chance to know you better.”

  I snorted. “Sure.”

  “Kyros is the eldest, and he works too hard. We like to fuck with him.”

  That sounded more like it.

  Gerome whipped out his phone. “Picture!”

  The flash went off, and I blinked. People still used flash?

  I leaned over to look at the picture. “Take another one.”

  “It’s just going to Kyros,” he murmured, thumbs moving rapidly as he typed out a message.

  It was a bad picture. Surprising both of us, I snatched the phone. “Let me take it.”

  “Give my phone back, human.”

  “Shh, it will screw with him more if I take the picture, Vissimo.” And I knew my best angle.

  “True. Take it.”

  I held the phone up on selfie mode and pulled a duck face. Gerome glanced at me and did the same.

  Okay, I looked hot now. Which shouldn’t matter because Kyros was on the receiving end. I shook my head.

  Should’ve let Gerome send the double-chin picture.

  “Alright,” the vampire said, plucking the phone from my hand. “Start driving.”

  Twisting the key, I started the engine. In the white car, I’d barely been able to hear the motor. This one, not so much—but it was no roaring public bus.

  I waited as Gerome finished his message to Kyros.

  “He’ll come down here as soon as you send that,” I said, wondering if I could pull out onto the street in time to avoid him. Surely Kyros wouldn’t run at vampire speed down through Grey.

  “Nope. It’s our weekend off for the month. We go to our parents’ place.”

  “You should join them.”

  He slid an amused look my way. “Trying to get rid of me?”

  “Yes,” I said honestly. “I really want to learn to drive, and I have a feeling you’re not going to take this seriously. Exhibit A: Letting me drive in Grey.”

  He slid the phone away. “Why so eager? Driving isn’t that fun.”

  I gripped the wheel. “It’s not about fun. It’s about knowing how to do it like everyone else.”

  “What’s the point of knowledge if you can’t have fun too?” he countered. “Plus, you’ve already driven in Grey according to my big bro, and my motto is sink or swim.”

  “Why is that your motto?”

  “Biggest risk, greatest reward, most fun.” He widened his eyes dramatically. “Drive! The speed limit here is 60 kilometres. Slow down at orange lights. Stop at the red. Indicator is on the right side of the wheel—usually.”

  Yeah, I already knew the indicators changed sides. “Fine, but please pay attention. I want to do this right.”

  He studied me, some of the boyishness fading away. “You’re full of surprises, Basilia.”

  “Just Basi.”

  “What about Basil?”

  He must have hacked security. Unless Kyros repeated shit word for word. I ignored Gerome and edged the car out of the garage entrance. I waited until a string of cars had passed by—ignoring Gerome’s snigger—and pulled onto the one-way street. The right way.

  “Indicate for three seconds before switching lanes,” he instructed, not watching the road. “Get over to the far left lane sometime in the next four blocks.”

  His phone chimed and the vampire read the message, chuckling as he tapped out a reply.

  I wasn’t going to ask what Kyros said. Not after last night.

  I’d fallen asleep in the car and woke as he carried me to bed—after telling him not to touch me. What’s more, my hands had been bunched in his shirt and I knew for a fact I gave him a sleepy smile before realising who carried me.

  Lucky I wasn’t a sleepwalker. Who could tell what I’d get up to?

  Indicating for three seconds, I began to drift across the empty lanes. “Now what?”

  “Stop!”

  Shrieking, I slammed on the brakes. Except it wasn’t the brake. The car shot forward as I twisted on the wheel, panic choking me.

  A hand whipped out to grip the wheel. The car steadied. After blitzing past another block, I had the presence of mind to take my foot off the accelerator and find the real brake.

  “Indicate and pull over to the curb,” Gerome said.

  Heart stuttering in my chest, I obeyed, managing not to scratch the hub caps.

  “Put the hazard lights on when you stop where you’re not meant to,” the vampire explained, pushing a triangle button on the dashboard. “They’re like a pass. People assume you’re in trouble and can’t move. This way, you’ll always have a park.”

  Foot still jammed down on the brake, I took a deep breath. A calming breath. Because I was calm. Totally, totally calm. “Why did you do that?”

  His phone was out again. I listened to a recording of my shriek and the screech of tyres.

  He’d staged a video for Kyros.

  I was calm. I was— “You fucker.” Slamming both hands on the wheel, I grabbed for his phone. He placed a hand over my face and held the phone out of my reach.

  I bit down on his finger as hard as I could. Judging by his face, my bite possessed the strength of a day-old puppy.

  “You scared me!” I pulled back. “I thought I’d hit an old lady.”

  “Well, I didn’t expect you to stomp on the accelerator. Turned out better than I could’ve hoped.”

  I turned to face the front, scanning the road as my heart reined in a notch. “You said you’d take this seriously.”

  Kyros’s brother didn’t glance up. “No, I didn’t. You said you had a feeling I wouldn’t. I’m proving you right.”

  “How old are you? No, wait. Don’t answer that. Your mental age is evident.”

  He didn’t take the bait. “For the record, you should know how to stop in a hurry. Every time I yell stop, indicate to the closest curb, slam on the brakes, and pull over as quickly as possible.”

  “You’re not turning this into a game.” I withered, turning off the hazard lights and pulling out after a few cars.

  “Stop,” he shouted.

  Nope.

  Gerome frowned at me. “I said stop.”

  “Get fucked.”

  He caught my eyes. His eyes blazed blue, and suddenly my mind wasn’t my own. My body didn’t belong to me.

  “Stop,” he whispered.

  My body obeyed, indicating, braking, and pulling over on autopilot. I pressed the hazard lights on and sat back.

  A full minute passed before the fuzzy warmth in my head—the feeling that I was a bystander in my body—dissipated.

  My hands shook on my lap. A tremble stirred my words. “What was that?”

  On his phone again, the vampire glanced up. “Hmm? Compulsion.”

  “No, it wasn’t. I’ve been compelled before.” I drew in a breath.

  “Maybe you got lost in my eyes.” He winked.

  “Last time the compulsion had to be permanent.”

  He threw me a cool look. “We compel humans and young Vissimo with our eyes for anything temporary—humans already in our employ and the like. The weaker their emotional attachment to what we’re compelling them to do, the better, but there’s always a risk the human will recall being compelled, so we hardly ever do it to those not under blood compulsion.”

  I tried to take that all in. “Why did you do that to me? That was horrible.”

  The cloudiness of the temporary compulsion left me with the vaguest sense of déjà vu.

  “I’m Vissimo. Don’t expect me to do human things.”

  Like play on your fucking phone all the time?

  Gerome fidgeted on the seat, sighing as he failed to find a comfortable position. “You don’t strike me as super coordinated. Now you’ve done that once, you’ll be able to do it again easily.”

&
nbsp; “You didn’t compel me because I told you to get fucked? Not even one bit?”

  His lips twitched. “We both won something. Now start driving. Take the next left and stay on the freeway. Speed limit there is 100 kilometres. Look out for the blue signs.”

  Only 100 kmph? I’d definitely blown apart that limit two days ago.

  The Vissimo kept his phone tucked away and settled into the lesson, correcting the positioning of my hands and feet. He pointed out parts of the car and drew my attention to the behaviour of other cars on the road, instructing me on how best to adjust.

  I was willing to bet everyone who knew him was constantly torn between the urge to throttle him and relief he could be serious upon occasion.

  I focused on sticking to my lane and the speed limit, but as soon as our direction became clear—and the fact I was driving to start with—my thoughts catapulted to my parents.

  Every person had milestones in their life. Some teens were obsessed with their prom, some with nabbing their first boyfriend or girlfriend. I’d looked forward to both of those milestones, like others. But inevitably, each time I reached a milestone, I’d wonder what my parents’ reactions would have been.

  Some milestones were easier to handle than others.

  When the time came to learn to drive, I just couldn’t. My grandmother didn’t force the issue when I turned down our butler’s offer. Because I hadn’t needed a licence to get around, I just let the matter slide.

  I readjusted my grip on the wheel, a heavy weight sinking in my stomach.

  My parents should have taught me to drive. But they were gone, and a vampire was in their spot.

  My chest tightened with grief that always reared its head when I least expected it. I kept silent as Gerome directed us toward a place I loved and hated.

  Bluff City had its own theme park and it featured heavily in what memories I had of my parents. At first, my grandmother kept taking me there because I loved it—like any child. By thirteen, I was old enough to process I loved it because of my parents. Then I’d visited the theme park every weekend to punish myself because Mum and Dad were dead and gone. That felt like my fault for a long time. Grief was so messed up. In recent years, I visited the theme park when feeling particularly morose—or when I wanted to be close to the people I only knew for nine of my twenty-one years. That thought always brought me nearest tears—my eighteenth birthday was horrible. At eighteen, I’d lived without my parents for as long as I’d lived with them. With each year I aged, the time I knew them seemed to shrink and the space they’d possessed inside me shrunk with it.