“Nice to meet you.” I held out my hand. “You can call me Basi.”
“You can call me Kearra. Nice to meet you too.” She whacked her hand in mine and I grimaced at the sting.
“Gentle, Kearra,” Safina reprimanded, looking at me. “This is a good opportunity for her to learn.”
How weak humans are?
“Happy to help,” I said half-heartedly.
Safina smirked and then—thank the powers that be—the occupants of the table began to converse.
I took a full breath and relaxed.
Kyros draped his arm over the back of my seat.
Brows rising, I glanced over at him, but someone else was watching me too.
“Are you really slow like a turtle?” Kearra asked, eyes narrowed.
I considered that. “More like the speed of an elephant or monkey.”
“You don’t look like an elephant,” she said just as seriously. “A pretty monkey.”
Safina gasped. “Kearra.”
“It’s okay.” I struggled to contain my laughter. “At least she’s honest about it.” Leaning down, I said, “Humans are a lot like monkeys even if we like to think we’re superior to them.”
Without warning, the Vissimo child lunged for Kyros’s wine. He grabbed her chubby hand, pulling her back without effort. “Not a chance, Kee. That’s an adult drink.”
“Let’s do gifts before dinner,” Francesca said as I battled with my womb again.
The queen smiled at her youngest child, adoration plain on her goddess-like face. “What a lovely idea.”
If Francesca was spoiled like Kearra as a child, I had zero illusions about why she acted up so much in her thirties. Or however the fuck old she was.
A tiny finger poked my arm. “She’s soft, Uncle Kyros.”
He whispered back. “I know.”
“She smells like I should eat her.”
Oh my god. I choked on laughter and nearly lost it again at the slight possessive anger from Kyros.
“Yes, but you must never hurt Miss Le Spyre,” he said in a grave voice.
“Do you like her, Uncle Kyros. You called her my beauty before.” The young girl giggled.
His lips curved, and my heart threatened to implode. His reply to her was too rapid for me to make out.
Damn male.
Kearra squealed with laughter again and slipped off his lap, crawling up to join King Julius. She sat on his lap, looking in wide-eyed awe at her grandfather.
“Gifts,” the king announced, curling his arm around his granddaughter.
Queen Titania stood, holding her wine glass high. “Kyros, my first son. You are one hundred and fifty. I so clearly recall holding you in my arms for the first time and feeling my heart expand to three times the size. I love you more than my own life, and that will not change in the next one hundred and fifty years of your life, nor the centuries after.”
Warmth swept through the vampire next to me, and I stole a quick glance at him, tucking away the sight of his slight smile.
“Your father’s seed was indeed strong that night,” she continued. “I remember the union vividly—”
“Mom,” Rory blurted, grimacing.
I covered my mouth, battling furiously to maintain my calm as Kyros’s warmth turned to nausea. The queen glanced at them, a slight wrinkle between her brow.
I couldn’t lose the plot. Not here. Keep it together, Basi! Heat filled my face as I shoved back the urge to laugh. Just.
The king stood, Kearra clinging to him like a, well, a monkey.
“I have rarely felt such love as when I looked upon your face for the first time,” he said to Kyros without ceremony. “You have grown from babe to boy and from boy to man. Yet you are young. I look forward to many decades of watching you explore life and your power.”
The king’s eyes flickered to me, and I read the disgust in them before he returned his focus to Kyros and lifted his glass of blood wine. “To my heir, Prince Kyros.”
There was a water in front of me. I picked it up and held it in the air.
“Prince Kyros,” I murmured with everyone else.
His eyes were on me again. I swallowed the sip of water and did my best to walk the line of survival somewhere between vampire accessory and stupid human.
“We got you a group gift,” Safina announced.
Lalitta reached into a bag.
“It’s a house,” Francesca rushed to say.
Everyone glared at her.
“What?” She pouted.
Lionel plucked a set of keys from Lalitta’s hand. “You need a place away from the towers like the rest of us, bro.”
“We found a cool house out by Lyall Bay and did a few renovations,” Gerome said.
“And redecorated,” Deirdre put in.
Lionel tossed the keys over my head, and Kyros caught them with ease.
“There’s a new set of wheels in the garage,” Neelan murmured.
Rory smirked. “We didn’t let Gerome choose the car.”
“Thank fuck for that,” Kyros replied.
He smiled at the keys, and I studied his confusion. Yeah, Kyros out of his tower was a strange concept, even for me.
“Thank you. I look forward to seeing it,” he said.
The queen beamed down the table. “Maybe during our next weekend off, we could meet there.”
“That’s next weekend,” Lalitta said, bouncing. The two shared an excited glance.
Wow.
It was hard to remember how dangerous these people were when they were relaxed and joyful like this. A sadness entered my heart—none of it from me. I didn’t need to peek at Kyros to know he was wondering how many days like this he had left with his family. His longing was intense.
I squeezed his hand under the table. He shouldn’t be morose on his birthday—no matter how many of the fuckers he’d already had.
When I made to slide away, he tightened his grip.
“We filled your wardrobe with new suits,” Safina announced, gesturing to her sisters.
I fixed my attention on her. “You didn’t take the old ones away, did you?”
She cut off. “Yes, we do it each year—”
“Did you leave the air-force blue suit?” I said, frowning.
She blinked and peered at Deirdre.
“Chucked ’em all,” she answered.
I pressed my lips together.
Not happy.
“Maybe it’s best if you relocated it,” the queen murmured to her daughter.
Deirdre stopped picking her teeth. “I’ll try.”
They were in the bad books until it was back. Kyros’s amusement tightened around me, and I pinned him with a glare, daring him to laugh.
The king was watching.
Yikes.
Why couldn’t we sit down the queen’s end?
“The boys got you a little something for the house,” Rory said, grinning widely as he glanced at me. “Probably best if you see it when you get there.”
I ignored the bait, taking another sip of water as I contemplated my stupid present under the table. Turned out my gift idea was totally inappropriate for this occasion. Thank fuck I’d shoved it out of sight. Talk about mortifying.
“Shall I call for dinner then?” the queen asked.
Lionel glanced at me. “Didn’t you have something when you walked in?”
I widened my eyes at him. “No. I didn’t have time to—”
“There’s a bag under the table by your feet,” Francesca said, popping her head above the table.
Fucking. Francesca.
My cheeks heated and I pulled free of Kyros’s hand to draw the gift bag out. Great, now I looked extra idiotic for trying to hide it.
“I already had a present for Kyros, but I didn’t realise what a big deal this birthday was.” Embarrassment poured through me in thick waves.
Kyros pried the rope handles from my grasp and placed the bag on the table. He studied my burning face for a second before drawing out
the small and flat wrapped parcel.
Ugh, kill me now.
“It’s stupid,” I whispered at him.
They were going to laugh at me.
“Hush,” he said. “I’ll be the judge of that.”
Sliding a massive finger under the wrapping, he worked the bindings free along one edge. Then he did the same on both ends.
Gerome grumbled loudly. “And now you know why we never give him wrapped presents.” He jabbed an angry finger at me. “This is on you.”
Sure, but he didn’t have front row seats to how much his elder brother enjoyed unwrapping the gift.
Kyros pushed the paper off and turned the photo frame around.
I fidgeted in my seat as he stared at the picture of him and his siblings from earlier this morning. They were trying to pull him in different ways, smirks on their faces, and he grinned in the middle as though he hadn’t carried a terrible burden on his shoulders.
“Well, show us,” Francesca huffed.
Kyros ignored her, stroking a large finger down the side of the wooden frame. I tried to dissect what he was feeling, but whatever was going through his head, I’d never experienced before.
It was like he didn’t know what to feel.
I flushed anew.
Was there any viable excuse to get me the fuck out of here? I glanced over my shoulder.
“Show me,” the king ordered.
Kyros blinked and lifted his head. “What?”
The king held out a hand and—begrudgingly—Kyros passed it over. The queen blurred around the table to peer over her husband’s shoulder. That apparently gave everyone else permission to do the same.
Their faces blanked one by one.
I got to my feet, pretty sure my entire body was red from utter mortification. I glanced back the way I came.
“It’s us,” Neelan whispered.
The queen sniffled. “Look how happy you all are. What were you about to do to your brother?”
“Lionel took sexy photos with Basilia and put them on a billboard for Kyros to see,” Lalitta said.
The king roared with laughter, sending the fear of death through me as he displayed a few teeth.
Lionel grinned.
Gerome plucked the frame from his father’s grip.
“Careful,” Kyros snapped.
I hovered on the edge of their group, my discomfort mounting.
Gerome returned the picture frame to his eldest brother, who, after another good look, placed it back in the wrapping, face up.
“Basilia,” Kyros murmured.
I folded my arms. “Yes?” My voice shook.
“Come here.”
I resumed my seat and gasped as I was deposited on his lap, facing away from his avidly watching family.
He held my hand to his lips, closing his eyes as he pressed a lingering kiss there. Green eyes bore into mine.
“I will treasure it always.”
The urge to smile was overwhelming, so I gave in to it.
“You’re not allowed to smash this one,” he murmured.
That would never happen. Not with this.
“Happy birthday, Kyros.”
“It is,” he agreed.
His family was less than a metre away and showing no sign of giving us privacy, so I made to slide off and return to my seat, but Kyros clamped an arm around my waist, touching his lips to mine in a kiss that awakened every part of me.
Kyros pulled back, capturing my chin. “I understand now.”
“You understand?” I repeated in confusion.
His grin was blinding. “Yes.”
22
I made my excuses at 10:00 p.m. last night to give them family time before they went their separate ways to play Ingenium. How did the game not wear on them as the years went by?
“Basilia? That you?”
“It’s me,” I replied to the flash of red lipstick through the twitching curtain. “The garden’s looking great.”
The front door swung open and Mrs Hannah rushed out.
I studied the ground and plants but couldn’t see anything that needed doing. I’d expected to spend a good hour here on the way back from viewing the changes at my new club. “You’re a green thumb.”
She cackled and shooed me.
I wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “It looks just beautiful. The lavender and marigolds.” She’d even trimmed the low hedge, which formed the semblance of a fence across the front of the property.
“The garden is perfect,” she said. I peered down at her wet sniff.
She was crying.
“Shit, Mrs Hannah. What’s wrong? Did I say something?”
“N-No, dear. Don’t mind me.”
We’d grown close over the last two months, bonding over the lavender problem. Maybe it was that old people reminded me of my grandmother and her friends, or maybe because I’d had an older guardian, me and the oldies just clicked.
“I certainly will mind,” I told her crossly.
Leading her back into the house, I guided her to a kitchen chair and set about making peppermint tea—the only thing I knew how to do in a kitchen, let’s be honest.
Her face was drawn when I placed a steaming mug before her and sat opposite, clutching my own.
“What’s your beef with the garden?” I asked outright.
Her face screwed up and fresh tears leaked from her eyes. My chest squeezed and I shuffled my chair around so I could rub her back.
“Better out than in,” I said quietly.
She shrugged a shoulder, leaning forward to grab a tissue from a box in the middle of the table. “Never really talked about it before.”
I waited.
“Five years ago, I decided to re-do the front garden.” She drew in a deep breath, and then words rushed out. “I asked my sister for some cuttings from her garden. Asked her to make a special trip down from Furnley Gorge to bring them because I don’t drive. We grew up close, Basilia. Foster homes, in and out of bad situations, but we were lucky enough to stay with each other during those years. That kind of crap bonds people in a way those with normal upbringings could never imagine.”
I could imagine.
“There was a storm the night she drove down. I waited up all night for her to arrive, sitting at the window, but I must’ve fallen asleep because her knock on the door woke me.” Mrs Hannah drew in a shaking breath. “It wasn’t her, it was the police. As soon as they said, ‘Are you the sister of Ms Heath?’, I knew. They told me she’d gone over the cliffs, killed on impact.”
Shock filled me as I thought back over our interactions. How she’d always said her sister was visiting and the garden had to be perfect for when she arrived. How she’d seemed to begrudge the garden the more it flourished. Had she been killing her plants on purpose?
“It wasn’t your fault, Mrs Hannah.”
She didn’t agree, I could see it in her face.
“Plants everywhere at the crash scene,” she said. “There were pictures in the paper and the stories all mentioned my name. Driving to see her sister, Mrs Hannah Gaughton, in Bluff City.”
When loved ones died tragically, the self-blame game was no small thing. “Have I ever told you my parents died when I was nine?”
She wiped her face again and stretched out a hand to take mine. “That’s terrible.”
“For years after, when I got old enough to process such things, I was certain their death was my fault. Maybe if I’d behaved better, they’d have taken me on holiday, and then they wouldn’t be dead. Or maybe if I didn’t play up all the time, maybe they wouldn’t have needed a holiday and wouldn’t be dead. Why did they need a holiday without me? Even now, when I’m feeling low, the self-destructive thoughts come back. With my grandmother’s death, it’s the same.” Just involving vampires.
“She wouldn’t have been out in the storm—”
I straightened. “Your sister was a grown woman and she had a choice to drive in those conditions or not.”
Mrs Gaughton gl
ared at me.
“You don’t control the decisions of others,” I told her. “You’re not responsible for her death. What would she say if she could see you now, lying about her visits?”
Her eyes dropped to her lap. “She’d say I was a fucking moron.”
I snorted. “Sounds like she was a hoot.”
The older woman swallowed hard. “She was something alright.”
I squeezed her hand. “Thank you for making your garden perfect for my grandmother. For me. Especially when it held such scars for you.”
“I always said that when the garden was done, I’d pack up and leave. But I just couldn’t do it. Not when I shared so many memories with my sister here.”
“You don’t ever have to leave.”
A shadow fell across her vision. “I hate these halls. If I’d left straight away, the memories might have been preserved. Now, all that’s left is pain. Still, I’m afraid of what’s next. The garden is ready and I was meant to be ready too.”
I studied the woman. I didn’t see her as different from me—some wise elderly stranger. I could see my own struggles within this woman—a fellow soul who’d lost her way. She’d just misplaced her fire for the time being.
“The garden’s ready,” I told her. “And you are too. You just don’t know it yet.”
“What shit are you talking, dear?”
This was either an idiotic or ingenious move.
“Mrs Hannah,” I said. “My real name is Basilia Le Spyre. Would you like to move in with me?”
“Foremost got 77 Bard Boulevard,” Angelica hissed as we rode the elevator up to Level 66.
I pretended to think.
“Mrs Gaughton,” she said.
I let my jaw drop. “I’ve been buttering her up for two months. She sold to them?”
“They landed on Orange yesterday and her property is registered as sold though the details are yet to be processed.”
“Damn, I wonder how they got her. I tried everything.” Including inviting her to live with me. Which she accepted. There had been the option to settle her in one of my many rentals in the city. But there was a greater chance the realtors at Live Right would recognise her when they went door knocking than for Kyros—who thought of humans as addresses anyway—to recognise her on the estate.
Vampire Debt: Supernatural Battle (Vampire Towers Book 2) Page 28