He sighed. “Not much. The estates don’t sell. And it’s against the rules to coerce a human into signing. Anyone tied by blood compulsion falls under that umbrella, so although the city elite help us to do business in many other ways, we cannot secure their assets directly.”
Interesting. It made me very glad the Le Spyre fortune was generated and invested internationally for the vast majority.
“I have another quibble.”
He rolled his eyes heavenward. “By all means, ask away.”
Don’t mind if I do. “I feel like Vissimo should stay out of the media because you’re as unchanging as Cher.” Oh my god, was Cher a vampire? She didn’t age, but I put that down to surgeries and whatnot.
Rory nodded at a young woman, who fluttered her eyelashes in response. I’d never been able to do that. Tried for a whole hour one time.
“We take turns,” he replied. “Plus, we control the media within this city. There are enough royal siblings that we only need to take ten years every century. This is only my second turn.”
Somehow I gathered it wasn’t a chore for him.
Rory scanned the room again, and I did another sweep. I couldn’t see anyone I knew in the main chamber. We’d turned up an hour late, so mostly everyone should have arrived. Maybe I could just relax for the next few hours.
Actually…
“Two hours and fifteen minutes to go,” I said in glee.
“We just got here.”
“The time frame was inclusive of travel.”
He shot me an irritated look.
I sighed prettily. “You should negotiate better, Mr Senrite. Terms and conditions, my boy. Terms and conditions.”
“You are intensely annoying.” He straightened as a couple approached.
I smirked. “That’s what your eldest brother says too.”
“Not sure that’s the word he’s looking for,” Rory murmured, gaze settling on my breasts as another camera flashed.
Laughter bubbled in my throat. He was trying so hard to piss off his sibling that I couldn’t be angry about it. A waitress with a tray of champagne sauntered by. I snatched a flute.
“Free booze!” I sipped at the contents, my insides welcoming the honey explosion of bubbles like an old friend. Though I’d only had one person I’d put under that umbrella.
The sweet bubbles soured in my mouth.
“Mr Ringly,” Rory greeted in a cold tone.
I glanced at him and deduced the conniving vampire had become an asshole vampire. He posed like a fucking king at my side, expression aloof.
The middle-aged couple gaped.
Rory cut me a look.
My turn?
Leaning into Rory’s side, I fixed a smile in place. “Mr Ringly, a pleasure to meet you.”
The man’s eyes bounced to me so fast and with so much relief, I nearly snorted.
“I’m Bas, Rory’s date.” I’d never gone by Bas before. Hopefully that helped confuse any rumours.
“B-Bas,” Mr Ringly repeated.
I peered at the woman on his arm. She gaped at Rory, reminding me entirely of my seventeen-year-old self. He was probably lapping it up.
“This is Mrs Ringly,” the man said, drawing her forward.
She didn’t seem in much of a hurry to shift her gaze from Rory. Not that I could judge—but if she knew he’d looked in the mirror ten times on the drive here, she may reconsider.
“Lovely to meet you both,” I murmured, sipping at my champagne.
Mr Ringly licked his lips a few times. I slid him a glance, frowning when he did it again.
He licked them a third time.
No way.
Either Mr Ringly had one hell of a nervous habit or he was a Licky Lips! Just like my drugged-up homeless man. Was Mr Ringly high?
I hid a grin behind another sip of champers.
“Have you had a chance to look over my new proposal, Mr Senrite?” the man spoke to me.
I peered up to Rory. “Have you, baby?”
He choked and covered the slip with a cough. “This would be the loan proposal for subdivision of Wells Row? You sent another one?”
“Yes. My development application was finally approved.”
That sounded about as interesting as watching paint dry. Rory was vain and dealt with boring stuff. Definitely dodged a bullet. I bit my lip to hold in the snicker, sipping again.
Arm in arm with the vampire, I scanned the crowd as he and Mr Ringly spoke. A few groups glanced my way. At little ol’ me, the woman with the magical vagina that snagged Mr Ageing Complex beside me.
Typical rich snobs. They darted looks and murmured to their friends over their drinks, sharing arch smiles. Like that wasn’t totally obvious.
In fact, it made the one person not doing the same stick out like a sore thumb.
One person was staring at me without any of the frills.
My jaw dropped.
Rhys!
Jeans and black tee boy brushed up nice in the smart black tux. What was he doing here? His attention lifted from my boobs to my eyes. He coloured and returned his attention to the woman he was next to. An older woman.
I had the hots for a one-hundred-and-forty-nine-year-old, so power to him. And her.
Last time we’d spoken, I’d promised to call him. I wanted to smooth things over. And honestly, the sight of Rhys in a tux was doing all kinds of pleasant, normal, and human things to my body; I wasn’t losing my mind; I wasn’t jumping on him in a restaurant building; I wasn’t getting so lost in him that his eight siblings could sneak up as we clawed off each other’s clothes without detection. With him, I was in control of myself—of the situation and where it would go.
I was attracted to Rhys and his normalcy. Go figure.
“Darling,” I purred at Rory, knocking back the remaining contents of the flute. “I must go see a man about a dog.”
What did that even mean? Shit, I always forgot that champagne didn’t behave like wine. Better just have one more, but at least I couldn’t feel my hip anymore.
His jaw clenched as he followed my line of sight to Rhys. “Hurry back, my love.”
Mrs Ringly sighed, and I giggled. Oops, champagne.
I passed my flute to a woman who, in retrospect, might not have been a waitress.
Rhys saw me coming and turned back to his conversation with the older woman and two elderly men.
“Oh my god. Rhys, is that you?” I said to his rigid back, faking astonishment.
The group turned, and the older woman glanced at Rhys.
“Basi,” he said, bowing slightly. Must come with the tux.
I approved.
“You know this woman, dear?” said the woman.
He met my gaze for the first time. “Yes, Aunty.”
Oooh. Not a cougar. I could see the family resemblance. Kind of.
“Go have fun. I’m sure our chit-chat is boring him,” she simpered at the two older men. They laughed and stepped closer.
She was good.
Looking like he’d prefer to sink through the floor, Rhys offered his arm, and I took it, snagging another flute of champagne with my free arm—because women were fucking multi-taskers.
“You didn’t call,” he said, sending me a lopsided smile.
My brows shot up. “You’re full of surprises, Rhys.”
I’d never expected to see him wearing and pulling off a tux. I mean, he had the body to wear it. But to look at home in the threads? Yes, definitely surprised. And then to take the bull by the horns by bringing up my non-call.
My interest in him deepened.
Rhys faced forward. “That means what?”
That this champagne was the shit. That’s what it meant. “I didn’t call. Only because your number smudged.”
Rhys’s eyes narrowed. “Smudged or was smudged?”
Whoa, Rhys could read possessive male? Maybe he could write me a guidebook or something—“How to Tame a Douchebag Named Kyros.”
“Was smudged,” I admitted.
“But only after I ran into someone and coffee poured on my arm.”
“You realise it sounds like you’re letting me down easy,” he said, dark eyes warming.
I swung my hair back, fanning my face. “I have no qualms with letting people down the hard way. So no. That’s not what I’m doing.”
He stepped closer as I fanned my face again. Clever man.
“Would you like to go outside for some air? Or is that going to step on your date’s toes?” he asked.
“Rory is a friend.”
“You have friends in high places,” he said, drawing me to the nearest bifold doors.
I grumbled. “I’d rather friends in low places.”
Grinning, he replied, “It sounds like you mean that too.”
“Aren’t you of the same mind? Your aunt rubs shoulders with Bluff City’s richest and yet you’re hand-delivering your résumé.”
I closed my eyes as cool air rushed over me. “Ah, that feels so good.”
Rhys’s eyes were fixed on me when I opened them again.
He blinked slowly and pointed at a bench seat. “Can you sit in that dress?”
I squatted down before straightening again. “Yep. We’re good. Stretchy stuff.”
Laughing, he said, “Can’t say that question has ever had that result. You must be a few drinks ahead of me. I need to catch up.”
He asked that question a lot, did he? Better yet, did alcohol mix with pain medication? I had a feeling it was possible.
Holding up the flute, I winked. “Then you can stop evading my questions.”
He snagged two flutes from a passing waitress, gulping one back. “Fuck, I hate champagne.”
“Let me guess. You only drink beer.”
“Shiraz man, actually.”
“See? What did I say? Full of surprises. And you’re still evading my question.” Spotting a camera, I tossed him a huge smile, pushing back my hair. I ignored the camera flash.
Ha! Screw you, Rory.
Rhys leaned in, draping his arm over the back of the bench. Oh yeah, I was totally down with some him-and-me time tonight. That’s just what I needed. All of me was in agreement on the issue. My body was in a serious state after the constant deprivation since meeting Kyros.
“I was born into money and left because I wanted to make something of myself,” he said quickly.
I stared, taking a sip. “A DIYer, huh?”
“I guess. The money didn’t feel real. I couldn’t accept everything that came with it, like my friends did. I left right after school—been living off my own back for seven years.”
We’d probably gone to the same school—there was only one the elite went to—but he was a few years older at least. Things could have been so different if we’d known each other.
I nodded. “I can understand that.”
For vampire ears, I added, “Well, I can try my best. I’m not sure I’d do it myself. Free car. Someone doing my laundry. Sounds perfect.”
Rhys rubbed his jaw. “My family has a lot more than that. Probably sounds weird to someone without an estate.”
Finally, a fucking compliment. “You think I’m poor?”
He coloured. “Oh, I’m—”
I clinked my flute against his. “No apologies tonight. I’m poor as dirt. Cheers to that!”
When I lowered my drink, he was watching me.
“You know, I think that I find you fascinating.” Rhys rubbed his jaw again. “I’m not sure people really say that anymore.”
Uhm. Adorable.
And I knew for a fact Mr Rhys was more than adorable. Oddly, part of me could say the same about him. The fascinating part. He had secrets. If he’d left the rich game, he had unusual integrity and unpopular world opinions too. What more could I ask for?
“Basilia, my love?”
I rolled my eyes. “Yes, Rory darling?”
“Could I borrow you for a dance?” I caught the flinted edge to his eyes before he bowed.
“I was just about to kiss Rhys here though.” I smiled as Rhys choked on his bubbles.
The Vissimo held out his hand, eyes hard.
Fine. “Hold my drink?” I asked my fellow human.
Rhys’s answering grin was unexpectedly saucy.
Mmm.
“See you later,” he told me.
That I would.
Rory tugged me away faster than I thought necessary.
“Might I remind you that you’re meant to be here as my date. How do you think it looks that you’re all over that boy,” he spoke low and harsh in my ear.
“Okay, old man. Not everything is about image.” I remembered who I was talking to. “Rhys and I could get married in two years for all you know.”
“Darling, darling, that life is no longer an option for you.” He tugged me to him, hand around my waist, partially supporting my weight.
My face must have reflected my hurt and shock at that statement because the edge left his high-boned features though he didn’t apologise.
I placed one hand atop his shoulder, and rested the other in his offered hand, avoiding his gaze.
“You know about our kind now,” he continued, directing us into the dancing couples. “That will remain a barrier between you and the rest of the human population for the rest of your life. You’re not the kind to live a lie, Miss Tetley. You realise your path has altered for good whether you’re willing to admit it or not.”
That wasn’t true. “People have told me what my life would be since I was a young girl. They were wrong.”
“Were they?” he mused.
My gaze snapped to him, but the vampire was looking elsewhere.
“I can’t let you go home with the boy,” he said next, navigating us expertly between the couples. “Kyros—”
“I’m sick of hearing about Kyros,” I hissed. Desperation tinged my words.
“He’s my brother.”
I snapped my head up to glare at him. “The brother you’re baiting by taking me as a date to a social event? What kind of sibling does that?”
Not a speck of remorse showed on his face. “Our games are not your games.”
Boy, did I know it.
“A deal then.” I was going home with Rhys and no one was getting in my way.
Rory snorted. “No.”
“What was the Wells Row deal for?”
“… A loan. He has a large plot of commercial agricultural land that he wishes to rezone into residential land and subdivide for mass sale. It’s a good deal for us—with Lionel’s shift to vertical agriculture, the city won’t suffer from the loss of agricultural land. If this worked out, it could be huge for our clan.”
“Could be,” I said, pursing my lips.
His grip on me tightened before he groaned. “What do you know about him?”
I liked a man who knew when he was defeated. “My terms are that I’m not hindered in the slightest from taking Rhys back home to engage or not engage in adult activities. I’m allowed to stay out all night—with Laurel as protection, if necessary. But she waits outside and hidden.”
“You realise I could compel you for the answer?”
I lowered my gaze just in case. “How did that work out for Gerome?”
Rory grimaced.
“Shoot, was it bad? Is he hurt?”
Kyros’s sibling arched a brow. “He’ll mend. Nothing Gerome didn’t expect or mean to test. Though none of us expected Kyros to lose it to that degree. It surprised him too, I think. After that, he got a ridiculous notion in his head that avoiding you was the best answer.”
“The best answer to what?” I dared to ask.
Rory brought his lips to my ear. “To his insatiable lust for you. To thinking of nothing else but you. You know, he’s kept it all from our father. Well, no, that wouldn’t be possible. But the extent of his reaction he has kept very quiet. Saturday night was the first time we, his siblings, learned he was anything other than in his usual, perfectly controlled self.”
He told his siblings
everything though.
From the conversation with Kyros, I knew he didn’t want to be feeling whatever was going on between us. Whether because of shame or because he had a relationship with someone else. “This… situation has happened before, right? Where the urges of the thrall extended longer than three days?”
Rory grinned.
“That fucker,” I spat. “I knew he was lying. It’s not the lingering effects of the thrall that are making him act this way.”
“He’s not lying as such. Some people do suffer from similar symptoms after the first blood exchange.”
His tone was off.
“What do they usually do to sort out the problem?” I studied every flicker of his expression.
His eyes danced with suppressed mirth. “Why, Miss Tetley. They exchange blood again and again. Again, again, and again.” He counted to himself and added, “and again.”
That sounded kind of like I’d die. I blew my hair off my face. “Whatever.”
“Counteroffer. For all I know, the information you have on Mr Ringly is useless. As a show of good faith, I want something additional from you. You recognised me the first night on Level 66. I want to know where from. In return, I will grant your request, and supply condoms.”
I screwed up my nose. “I’m sure we’ll be right on that front.”
Rory’s face smoothed. “Have it your way. What’s wrong with Mr Ringly’s offer?”
“Ah,” I said sagely. “Nothing with the offer.” Surveying the crowd, my gaze snagged on Rhys’s ass.
You’ve seen better.
I shoved the thought aside. My brain didn’t know shit. Kyros had short-circuited my synapses somewhere along the line. I needed someone to shock me with those paddle things off Truth Ranges.
Rory shook me slightly, a growl slipping between his teeth.
“Vissimo have terrible tempers.” I spotted a camera coming and bopped him on the nose. The flash startled him.
Gotcha.
His scowl deepened.
“I can see why you’ve done that all night.” My shoulders shook. “That was really fun.”
“Basi.”
“Keep your hair on, Rory. Mr Ringly is a rug addict.”
The vampire wrenched us to a halt. “What’s a rug addict? Is this a young thing?”
I hiccupped. “Oh shit. Champers. I meant to say drug addict,” I explained. “I don’t know if he only took them tonight, but the guy kept licking his lips like crazy while talking to you. And I feel taking drugs to attend this event is a sign his usage isn’t just here and there—or whatever the term is.”
Blood Trial: Supernatural Battle (Vampire Towers Book 1) Page 30