Vampire Debt: Supernatural Battle (Vampire Towers Book 2)

by Kelly St Clare

I ignored her. “What were the final decisions?”

  Sometimes the siblings veered wildly from the recommendations of the seconds and their individual sub-clans. Other times, the path forward was clear.

  Deirdre spun in her chair to face me. “Your agriculture acquisition changes our position dramatically. We must press our marketing advantage now.”

  I’d had my own reasons for gifting them Lot 91 under the alias of Mr Barnaby Dwelt—an old friend of my grandmother’s who’d since left Bluff City—but stunning Kyros’s seconds to silence earlier had sweetened the transfer.

  Because of me, Clan Sundulus was in the clear, and my game could continue.

  Kyros kneaded my neck and shoulders, and I blinked sleepily, swaying forward and back in rhythm with his hands. That felt like heaven. I’d spent too much time at desks lately.

  “You’re tired, my beauty,” Kyros said. “You should stay in the tower tonight.”

  It was tempting. The drive back to the estate only took twenty minutes, but when I was this tired, twenty minutes took forever.

  Neelan piped up. “I’m not sure Father would like that.”

  “In a spare room,” Kyros snapped back.

  Neelan’s jaw shut with an audible click. The room pulsed with tension, and I glanced between them.

  “How long are you going to sulk, big brother?” Neelan asked the man at my back, who simply removed his hands from my neck in return.

  Whoa, Kyros had cut Neelan out? That was kind of huge. Usually he beat the fuck out of them and it was done. I could only recall him giving Rory the cool treatment, nothing like this blatant animosity I could feel thrumming through Kyros.

  What Rory did was a blip on Neelan’s bullshit, really, and I was just as pissed—if not more.

  “What you did went too far,” I told Neelan as Kyros’s vibrating wrath spilled into me. “I don’t care if you have some kind of chip on your shoulder because you look more like you belong in Clan Fyrlia than Sundulus—”

  His siblings froze. Safina shook her head rapidly, but I ploughed on.

  “—You don’t see Deirdre being a fucking dick because of it. I don’t care if you’re proving something to yourself or if you’re coming to terms with who you are. When other people are hurt because of whatever imagined deficiencies you have, that’s when I have a fucking problem with it.”

  Neelan was white-lipped.

  I wasn’t done. “Grow up. You’ve had enough time to do so three times over. No one’s going to hold your fucking hand because your eyes have a different shape. Own it or be owned by it.”

  One moment the vampire was there, and the next he was gone. Papers flew in the wake of his blurring speed.

  “Gerome,” I said in the resulting lull.

  He flinched. “Please don’t make fun of my hair.”

  I arched a brow. “Does Sundulus own a nightclub?”

  “Several. Don’t you have one?”

  Damn, that never occurred to me. Screwing up my face, I said, “Probably not. My grandmother would have left nightclubs to the new-money estates.”

  Gerome quirked a brow. “Your grandmother’s not in charge now.”

  True. “There probably aren’t any nightclubs left.”

  “Not buildings, no. But there are leases. There’s one nightclub lease up at the minute, but the rich brat owner is being fucking greedy over rent. Unless he budges, I won’t take it.”

  “What’s the name of the brat?”

  The vampire, the epitome of tall, dark, and handsome, scrolled through his phone. “It’ll cost ya.”

  “What?”

  “A favour.”

  I quirked a brow. “What kind of favour?”

  He pursed his lips. “I can’t think of anything on the spot, but the favour will be proportionate to what I’m offering.”

  Lie.

  Kyros once told me that with Gerome, the third answer was the truth.

  That sounded like a super bad idea. “It won’t involve me being naked, right?”

  Gerome held a hand to his chest. “I’m insulted.”

  Lie.

  I stared at him until he abandoned the innocent act. “Answer the question.”

  He glared. “No.”

  Truth. I hoped. “Okay, a proportional favour. No nudity. Don’t make me regret it.”

  Which was immediately as he grinned wide enough to display his teeth. “Owner’s name is Ricky Pikar.”

  The world had a great sense of humour.

  “I know him.” Intimately.

  “Hey, Kyros. What’s happening out here?” Lionel said, peering out at the other workers.

  Kyros joined his brother at the internal glass wall. I dismissed his slight confusion, focusing on the seven siblings before me.

  “I might be able to talk Ricky down,” I said. “For me though. Not for Sundulus. I want a nightclub.”

  Francesca narrowed her eyes. “What for?”

  “To throw a party. What else?” And to edge into the nightclub scene. I owned a number of buildings in Grey, but there was a lot about the entertainment industries I had to learn in the next two years.

  I’d call Ricky in the morning.

  Though… why the fuck would I do that? He was my ex—and Kyros was right here. The Pikars were too rich to kill off—and plus, Sundulus operated within human laws. I extracted my phone and scrolled down to the contact named Live and Learn. I clicked it, listening to the phone ring.

  Ricky never turned his phone off at night. Used to drive me nuts.

  “I don’t understand why all the women have a white rose,” Lionel said, looking at his brother.

  I may know something about that.

  Kyros turned to me, clenching his jaw.

  “Basi, baby?” Ricky’s sleepy voice echoed down the line.

  Could I have orchestrated this any better?

  Trying not to laugh, I replied, “Pikar. Long time.”

  “Too long,” he said, more alert. I listened to the shuffling in the background. “You around tonight?”

  He would assume this was a booty call. I eyed the wide-eyed exchange between Francesca and Gerome.

  “You’re leasing a nightclub. I’m going to take it.”

  “2274?” he asked.

  “What kind of name is that?”

  Those were the numbers on the password into my grandmother’s computers.

  “Uh, well. It was back in the days we were together. I did it as a romantic thing, but you dumped my ass before I could tell you. Then the legal papers were finalized and I couldn’t be bothered changing it.”

  “Cut to the chase.”

  “It’s Basi in numbers.”

  I covered the phone as Gerome burst into laughter, concealing my own shudder. That right there was why Ricky Pikar was saved in my phone as Live and Learn.

  “No need to change the name then.” The name will change first thing. “I guess you knew that you’d lease the club to me for a reasonable price in the future.”

  “Sure, we could meet and—”

  Even to make Kyros jealous, I wasn’t doing that. “Time is money.”

  “Yeah, I heard about your grandmother. She never liked me so I didn’t go to the funeral, but I’m really sorry, Basi. I know what she meant to you.”

  Dammit.

  This is what appealed to sixteen-year-old Basilia. Ricky wasn’t the smartest tool in the shed, but he was mostly genuine. That was hard to find in the estates.

  I focused on the table. “Thanks, Pikar. I appreciate it. And you’re right, she hated your guts.”

  We both laughed.

  “Look, we have a history, so I’m willing to sell the lease to you for cheaper. Six hundred thousand.”

  My lips twitched at Gerome’s outraged expression.

  I lowered my voice, almost purring. “You can do better than that.”

  Ricky spluttered. “I’ve got to cover my own investment.”

  “Give it to me for a flat four seventy-five. I’ll take an extendable an
d renewable option with that.”

  I didn’t want to lose the asset at a crucial time.

  “That’s half what I asked from other interested parties!”

  “Yes.”

  “You know? Then I’ll need more incentive, I’m afraid. It’s in Black, Basi.”

  “You’d be doing a Le Spyre a favour, Pikar. What other incentive do you need?”

  I enjoyed the silence on the other end. Turned out I wasn’t above reminding new money about their social position. Oops.

  “Look, I’d rather deal with someone I know. Owning a nightclub turned into more work than I thought.”

  Work in general, he meant. “Deal.”

  He blew out a breath. “You always did bust my balls.”

  “I can’t recall you complaining,” I said sweetly.

  The royal siblings quietened, each of them staring at Kyros.

  Ricky snorted. “We never had an issue in that department. If you’re ever interested in—”

  “My people will be in touch.” I disconnected, flipping my phone before sliding it in the pocket of my black woollen coat.

  “Basilia,” Kyros said.

  His menace filled me.

  “Mmm?”

  “Do you care to explain how the roses I sent you ended up in the hands of every female Vissimo in my tower?”

  I shrugged a shoulder. “Sure. I didn’t appreciate the roses, so I asked a few of the men to hand the flowers out to the women after the seconds met.”

  The vampire was facing away from me. “You didn’t appreciate them?”

  “Nope.”

  He rested his hands on the glass wall, back tense. “What the fuck do you appreciate?”

  He was pissed. Big time.

  Served the idiot right for trying to buy me.

  “I appreciate my friends,” I answered, shaking my hair back.

  The scream of shattering glass jolted through the room. I clapped my hands over my ears.

  The interior glass wall was gone. Dissolved. Shards of glass littered the ground outside.

  Kyros stood before it, shoulders heaving between ripping snarls.

  The massive screen against the wall flickered to life.

  King Julius surveyed the state of the room without a trace of emotion.

  Fuck.

  “Explain,” he demanded in a silken voice.

  18

  My thumb hovered over the Send button. Because really, this wasn’t a text I should send. As in, for my future survival, it was dumb. If my grandmother was here, she’d call me trashy. But the revenge I felt was strong. White-hot and ugly.

  I sent the text to Gina.

  We need to talk

  I needed information on my grandmother. If Fernando was right about the rift between the Fyrlia siblings, then I might just be able to convince Gina to give some information up. Barring that, maybe her reaction would give me an idea.

  My phone chimed. That was quick.

  I read the message. It wasn’t from Gina.

  I need a favour.

  Lionel needed a favour? I wasn’t born yesterday. This was his turn.

  I rolled my eyes, typing back.

  I suppose this has nothing to do with me or Kyros.

  I thought you were the nice one

  He replied:

  I am.

  What I do to you depends on how many times you say no before you say yes.

  I groaned and opened a second text.

  I won’t bite :)

  The damn vampire used emojis. How was I meant to resist that? I didn’t know Lionel all that well—I didn’t know any of the siblings that well, really. But Lionel was one of the brothers I thought might be trustworthy. I wasn’t getting out of this, we both knew it. And was I going to turn down time with the head of the agricultural industry? Not one bit.

  When and where? And WHAT?

  I scanned his reply not even three seconds later.

  Pick you up in ten.

  Wait, what? I didn’t agree to that. I fired back a round of texts, tapping my foot as I waited for the reply. Nothing.

  That bastard! He wasn’t a nice one at all.

  “Fred,” I called.

  The butler materialised from wherever he stood to be at my beck and call. I had theories he could teleport. “Miss?”

  “Please cancel my morning appointments.” I paused. “Better cancel my afternoon appointments too.”

  Shit. I hated when emails backed up. My time was slim pickings lately.

  “Right away, Miss Le Spyre.” He held a finger to his ear. “A car is at the front gates.”

  “He said ten minutes,” I seethed, glancing down at my pyjamas. Of course the one morning I decided not to get dressed for breakfast, Lionel decided to do his stupid sibling thing.

  Argh.

  “Let him in, Fred.”

  I wrapped my kimono tight around me and stomped to the front of the house, flinging back the doors to watch the nondescript black car rolling in.

  Lionel slid out with unearthly grace. “Hey, Basilia.”

  “Don’t you hey me, Lionel. I’ve changed my mind about you.”

  Kelsea approached, standing at a respectful distance.

  Blowing out a breath, I said to her, “I’m going out with Lionel for a while.”

  She bowed. “We will follow close behind, Miss Le Spyre.”

  Lionel held open the door, and I hopped in, pulling my seat belt on.

  I turned to him when he slid in. “You’re not a secret psycho, are you?”

  “Not at all,” he said, displaying two dimples that offset his shaved head. “I just have a job to do that I’ve put off for a month or two. I thought you could share the misery with me. This really is a favour.”

  Sure. I folded my arms.

  Pulling out of the driveway, he leaned forward and dangled a takeaway cup in front of me. I inhaled the rich aroma.

  “I came bearing gifts,” Lionel said.

  Snatching the coffee, I inhaled it again. “Now I’m really worried about what you want.”

  Lionel dived into my kimono pocket and extracted my phone. “Need this for the day.”

  “Hey!”

  He shoved the phone in the glovebox and locked it, popping the key in his breast pocket.

  The vampire slid me a look. “What are you thinking about?”

  “Whether I should drink this coffee or dump it on your penis and balls.”

  Lionel choked on a laugh. “You’re vicious for a human. Openly vicious, I should say.”

  “Well, I did take a drill to a vampire,” I replied before I thought better of it. Nausea found me.

  “That was survival. And ingenious,” he answered.

  I scoffed. “A total fluke. I didn’t like killing Callum, and I don’t want to kill again.”

  Lionel was taking us out to Agriculture on the opposite side of Bluff City. The houses of Orange, Red, and Pink whipped by. I twisted on the seat, spotting my usual black SUV close behind.

  “Are you okay about it?” he said.

  I frowned. “You’re the first person to ask me that.”

  His words were careful. “If Kyros didn’t ask, it’s because he saw you were okay.”

  Sometimes it was nice to be asked anyway. “The sound of the drill still bothers me. But I think going directly into a thrall helped. My mind didn’t have time to latch onto what happened in the basement. I remember the wet crunch and the resistance of his heart against the drill bit.”

  A shudder worked up through me. “Have you killed before, Lionel?”

  “Yes. Mostly Indebted who attacked us on Fyrlia’s orders. Being the second youngest brother though, I have elder brothers and sisters to protect me. Overprotect me.”

  Fucking cowards sending Indebted in their stead. “I hate how they do that.”

  He lifted a shoulder. “You get used to it.”

  “Lionel, don’t take this the wrong way, but you seem too nice for this. Not to say you aren’t strong. Just too decent.”
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  A shadow flittered across his face. “That’s what Father thinks. From him, it’s more of a deficit.”

  Yeah, I could imagine.

  “What would you do if you could do anything in the world?” I asked.

  He smiled, pointing at the farms either side of us as we entered Agriculture. “I want to feed the world. Healthy food and equal access. Right now, I’m interested in vertical farming and aquaponics.”

  We pulled down a driveway and stopped alongside an open barn. My eyes widened. “Uh, Lionel, why is there a camera crew here?”

  I gasped. “And why is there a fucking photo shoot set up in there?”

  “We’re launching our vertical farming promotion next week—and sex sells. You and I are the eye candy.”

  My jaw dropped as he parked the car. “You’re fucking kidding me. Where are these pictures going?”

  “Just targeted spots in the city. I doubt you’ll even see the pictures.”

  I lowered my voice. “Where, Lionel?”

  “A few billboards. Pamphlets in every letterbox. That kind of thing.”

  Motherfucker.

  Closing my eyes, I drew up the view from Level 66. Namely, the billboard that occupied the space immediately outside where I met the royal siblings at 2:00 a.m. each morning. “The billboard outside the Level 66 windows?”

  The car door slammed shut, and I stared at the spot Lionel had been a second ago.

  I changed my mind. He wasn’t nice.

  Not nice at all.

  “I need my phone.”

  I waited as Lionel unlocked the glove box.

  He slapped the phone back into my hand. “There you go. I hope it wasn’t too arduous.”

  Actually, I had a good time today. A mostly normal day. “It wasn’t so bad. Thanks for showing me all about vertical farming and aquaponics. And just a heads-up that no one says arduous anymore.”

  I was officially mind-blown by the plans for his vertical farming push. Consider me happy to help by doing the stupid photoshoot. Even if I’d felt like an idiot in jean shorts that were more like underwear, a checked shirt that showed underboob, and the token cowboy boots and hat. A half-naked Lionel had made the day easier on the eyes.