Vampire Debt: Supernatural Battle (Vampire Towers Book 2)

by Kelly St Clare

  Look away, please.

  I didn’t want this to be his last memory of me.

  Holding the camera steady with one hand, Trenit freed his machete and threw it at my feet. “A fighting chance,” he sneered.

  Bending, I swiped up the blade. Jesus, I’d kill myself by landing on this thing. Or Theodore would take it and slice me.

  I’d rather be sliced with a small dagger.

  “Piece of junk.” I chucked the blade from the circle.

  Trenit snarled.

  “A present from Daddy?” My voice wobbled.

  Yep, I had a bomb strapped to my neck, and I was about to die.

  The camera hadn’t left my face, but it was shoved closer. “Any last words to your true mate?” Tynan said with glee.

  Anger found me. “If I knew you all talked this much, I would have just drowned myself in that fucking barrel.”

  The death metal fan of the trio smirked. “Some talk like this before the end. But everyone wants to live.”

  Oh, I wanted to live. That wasn’t in question.

  Trenit set the camera on the table and strode to stand beside Tynan, who held up the two bomb controls.

  Nausea churned in my gut.

  I heard my grandmother’s friends talk about dignity and death all the time, but now I understood why the elderly feared dying in their own shit. That’s why the triplets were streaming this. It was the worst part of the situation—worse even than the end result.

  I strode to the middle of the circle, a mere three metres from Theodore. Perhaps standing on the edge would give me more time to react, but the thought of reacting in time was laughable, really. I’d start farthest from the edge.

  Theodore entered the circle and his growl surrounded me.

  I focused on him, blinking several times. My ears were shot, and maybe that was ideal. There wasn’t any competition between my two main senses anymore.

  I just needed one good punch for Grandmother, then I was happy to go.

  “Begin,” Gina called.

  Theodore didn’t budge.

  He sang, “Rich girl, rich girl, sitting all alone. Rich girl, rich girl, sad in her home. Rich girl, rich girl, dead behind her smile. Rich girl, rich girl, dead in just a while.”

  Any number of poetic replies occurred to me. I shoved them down.

  He moved.

  I saw him.

  And what could my human body do about it?

  Absolutely fucking nothing.

  Theodore kissed me hard, hands pressing against my damaged ears.

  I couldn’t scream. Black filled my vision and I fell to my knees, rolling in agony. Fresh blood dripped from them.

  But I hadn’t got my shot in yet.

  Head squeezing to the point of unconsciousness, I slowly sat, then crouched.

  His knee was coming for my face. I threw myself to the side.

  Fuck. I dodged him!

  “That’s really embarrassing,” I slurred. “Vissimo, Vissimo, all the speed in the world. Vissimo, Vissimo, couldn’t catch the human girl. Write that on my headstone, you motherfucker.”

  I spat out blood—

  Then doubled over at the brutal blow to my stomach. A slash across the back of my thighs sent me sprawling. On my front, I blinked at the red line one inch from my face.

  I was dragged away from it, the concrete scratching at my skin and jolting the aching wound in my gut.

  My head was forced upward, my back arching to accommodate the movement. I tried to prop myself up, hands slipping on the concrete.

  “Nothing to say to the people watching, whore?”

  I stared at the camera, gasping.

  He flicked my ear again, and I choked on a scream, tears squeezing from my eyes to drip down my face.

  “Do you want to tell Kyros what you are?” he whispered in my other ear.

  I sucked in a painful breath. “He knows what I am.”

  All I wanted was to curve around my stomach. Arching my back like this was agony. Acute pain, thudding pain, so much pain.

  Theodore licked my cheek. “Mmm, you taste delicious. Fear makes blood taste divine.”

  He flipped my body and straddled me, leaning down.

  Got ya.

  I went to knee him in the junk, and when he jerked back and looked down, I punched him in the throat as hard as I could.

  Even Vissimo needed air.

  That’s for you, Agatha.

  He gasped, and I kicked him—to no effect.

  Pulling me up, he lashed the back of his hand across my face.

  I flew.

  Landing in a heavy heap, I struggled to maintain consciousness. The camera was in front of me, just beyond the red line. I smiled at it, knowing this was the end.

  Tommy was safe. Kyros was safe.

  I was happy for that.

  If he’d come, his family would be dead. No one deserved to carry guilt like that.

  Theodore grabbed the back of my neck and lifted me, turning me to face him. His eyes were blazing, his lips curved.

  I screamed as his fangs sliced into my neck, ripping.

  Blood had dripped from me in multiple places, but now it gushed and spurted in thick waves.

  He dropped me, and I lifted a hand to staunch the wound.

  This is it.

  Eyes wide, I rolled onto my back, just shy of the red line. As I did, the strap around my neck slipped.

  I tightened my grip on my throat, holding the bomb in place.

  Theodore bit through the strap?

  His growls reached my ears, and in a daze, I rolled to my side and managed to crouch again. My right arm was slippery with bright blood, and I didn’t need the sight to reinforce what my body already knew.

  I didn’t have long.

  Theodore gripped my upper arms this time when he bodily picked me up, turning so our profiles were to the camera.

  Gurgling, I brought my free hand up to grip his leather jacket. It was still unzipped at the top.

  I blinked at Gina over his shoulder. They couldn’t see me from here. There’d be no shouted warnings.

  “You’re going to kill me,” I said softly. “Like you killed my grandmother.”

  His hazel eyes weren’t muted at all. My body was too near death to feel any effect.

  “You can beg harder than that,” he roared.

  I brought my second hand to his leather jacket. “I choose when I die.”

  He hadn’t seen me bring the bomb collar to his chest.

  He did feel me drop it inside his jacket. Theodore’s eyes widened and he glanced down.

  Heaving up both legs, I kicked at his chest with all my strength. I didn’t fly from his hands as intended, but my right arm was slippery with blood. His grip failed, and I tumbled over the red line.

  Time slowed as I glanced at Tynan on the stage. Theodore turned to him, fear in his hazel eyes.

  Tynan’s triumphant, fanatical gaze was fixed on me. He smiled, holding the remote aloft.

  Click.

  The explosion catapulted me back, rocking the entire building. Head ringing, I stared vacantly at a hazel eyeball by my head, trying to process the chunk of tissue attached to it.

  More body pieces surrounded me—pieces of Theodore.

  I couldn’t hear the other siblings, but I could feel my life essence slipping away. Reaching a hand up, I pressed into my gushing neck wound weakly.

  Death.

  How funny.

  Shivering, I laughed, but only a gurgle came out. Head lolling, I frowned at the camera. It had fallen from the table and lay on its side covered in dust.

  I fumbled for it. Was it still on?

  If so, Kyros could be watching.

  He’d seen me kill his enemy, and pride pulsed through me.

  Acceptance. Warmth.

  “Do you feel that?” I slurred at the camera, spluttering as blood trickled from my mouth.

  My lips twitched, but as I stared into the camera, my smile faded to nothing. “Don’t blame yourself, Kyros
. Family is everything.”

  I gripped the cables at the back and gave up the battle to keep my eyes open. “Thank you for being with me at the end.”

  I wrenched the cables from the camera.

  28

  I whimpered at an incessant beeping trying to worm its way into my brain.

  Beep, beep, beep.

  My body hurt. My head…

  Why did they hurt?

  “Someone turn off the machine,” Kyros snarled.

  “Atagio,” I tried to say.

  Pain ripped through my throat and my eyes flew open, heart thundering as I was catapulted from delirium.

  I struggled, kicking at the restraint around my legs.

  Kyros pinned my shoulders. “Basilia, you’re okay.” He released one of my shoulders to loosen the tight blanket across my legs.

  Cool air swept over my hot skin. I stared at him as blood pounded in my aching ears.

  “The Tonyi triplets took you. You’re in my home,” he said quietly. “You have some injuries and that’s why you can’t move.”

  I relaxed as his explanation sunk in. My gaze shifted to the tubes coming in and out of my body. Machines. Bags of fluid. White blankets. I fumbled for my neck but my fingers encountered hard plastic.

  I was in a neck brace.

  “She’s in pain,” Kyros spoke to someone behind my bed. “Where does it hurt?”

  My ears. Tears stung my eyes. Christ, they hurt so much.

  “Perhaps some water, Kyros?”

  Safina.

  His growl filled the space as he snatched a bottle from her, unscrewing the lid and holding it to my mouth. It took three attempts to swallow, but I got a mouthful down.

  I licked my lips and rested back. “Ears hurt. Neck broken?”

  Kyros squeezed my hand, glaring at someone over my head.

  The ache in my head subsided, and I sighed.

  “Not broken,” he said. “The brace is to keep you from tearing the stitches from your surgery.”

  “Off.”

  “No,” he snapped.

  His fear and rage blasted me.

  Tears slipped from my eyes. I had no fight left in me. Every part of me hurt, including my soul. The part of my mind not hurt was absolutely confused by the fact I was alive.

  He whirled from the bed, shoulders heaving for a full minute.

  Turning back, he snapped, “Lalitta. Help me.”

  Lalitta edged in, wary eyes on her brother. She skirted back to the wall as soon as the neck brace was removed.

  Feeling the thick bandages around my neck first, I felt my mouth and nose, then gingerly probed around each ear. Ouch.

  I touched Kyros’s forearm. “Am I. Alive?”

  As soon as the question left my mouth, I regretted it. His despair was terrible to behold. Far worse than mine.

  “You’re alive,” he said tersely, turning from me again.

  A leaden silence filled the room.

  Turning my eyes more than my head, I blinked at Kyros’s sisters and his mother lined up against the wall.

  I had so many questions. “How?”

  Safina answered when he didn’t. “You killed Prince Theodore Tonyi. When you won, by King Mikhail’s own rule, you had to be released. Especially as we had a recording of the proceedings. We’d gathered in our territory in Red close by, but when you won the contest, we ran to claim you back. The other Fyrlia siblings brought you outside and delivered you to us.”

  Guilt. Rage. Hate. Shame.

  I was assuming Kyros’s current turmoil had everything to do with me, rendering him useless in the situation. I made my bed in full knowledge and acceptance of the cost of saving Tommy’s life. So had I expected to live and face him afterward?

  Not one bit.

  Swallowing again, I stared at his back. “Kyros, I knew you couldn’t enter their territory before I left the estate.” Or at least before Theodore’s fangs ripped into my neck.

  I rasped. “I had to save Tommy, and that had nothing to do with—”

  “If you say it had nothing to do with me, I’ll tear this fucking house down.” He roared. “It wasn’t your choice to make.”

  It felt like the inside of my ears split all over again.

  “Son! Her ears,” the queen gasped, striding forward.

  “Stay away,” he snarled, sinking into a predatory crouch.

  She bared her teeth at him. “If you cannot control yourself, you cannot be here. Your true mate has been beaten within an inch of her life. She doesn’t need another round.”

  The fight drained from Kyros.

  He lowered his head.

  “You have nothing to feel guilty about,” I whispered. “I had to make sure you stayed away.”

  My forgiveness wasn’t enough.

  He strode from the room, and the queen gazed after him, a dullness in her meadow-green eyes. With veiled looks cast my way, his four sisters trailed out after him.

  “If Kyros had entered their territory, all of us would be dead right now,” the queen said to me.

  I met her impassive gaze. “I know. I’m incredibly grateful that Safina and the others were able to get there in time to prevent that.”

  She walked past the foot of my bed and stared out of the window. “His siblings had to prevent him storming the territory twice before Julius got there.”

  Oh fuck.

  “He lost control, putting us all at risk.”

  The queen was a mother who’d nearly lost her children because of my actions.

  “Kyros didn’t put you at risk,” I said. “I did. He can’t help what the bond makes him do.”

  Her tone hardened. “You dishonour him by believing he wouldn’t come of his own volition. You are his true mate. He could feel—and later see—you dying at the hands of his enemy.”

  All this talk of honour. What did it even mean? “I don’t think of myself as part of a pair, Queen Titania. I don’t assume that Kyros will protect me because of this thing with our blood. That’s not intended to disrespect him. It’s because I don’t believe in the mate bond.”

  “Yet you disrespected him grievously. Protecting you is his role as your true mate. Just as it is yours to protect him.”

  Frustration bubbled within me. “My going there had nothing to do with him or the exchanges.”

  She smiled, a hint of iron showing beneath. “You went willingly into the triplets’ hands to protect your dear friend whom you consider family, yes?”

  I nodded.

  “My king and I watched as you absolved Kyros of guilt at the end. With what you considered your dying breath, you protected your true mate, having successfully protected your family, and having taken steps to ensure my son could not endanger his family. Kyros was unable to do any of those things. On top of that, you don’t give any credit to the connection you both share. Do you understand why he feels inadequate to be in your presence right now?”

  That’s what this was about? He felt unworthy as well as disrespected?

  I wanted to sleep.

  Scrap that. I wanted Kyros’s arms around me. Fear tinged my every thought an ugly green. I’d been tortured and beaten and had no idea how the fuck I was here. Right now, I wanted him so badly.

  But I’d gone into this alone.

  I’d suffer the ramifications alone.

  “Queen Titania,” I said wearily, “this is one of those times when being a Vissimo and being human are very different things. I’m too tired to argue and too tired to see your point of view.”

  The queen dipped her head, unscrewing the water bottle.

  I drank and rested back.

  She leaned forward to kiss my forehead. “Your friend is alive and well, Miss Le Spyre, and guarded by Indebted on your estate. My first son cared for her personally, knowing you would wish it. He tells me she doesn’t remember a thing from the dinner to waking in hospital.”

  My lips trembled. “She’s okay?”

  The urge to cry was agony on my neck wound.

  “K
yros made sure she was,” she whispered. “Just as he made sure to attend to your wound until you got to our surgeon and doctors. If not for him, you would not be alive.”

  The last thing I recalled was the camera. “His saliva?”

  She nodded. “Do you know how hard it was for him to do that without forcing the fifth exchange on you?”

  Some idea, yes.

  “Kyros could have killed you himself if his control had slipped for even a second,” she said.

  The strength of her son’s disagreement battered my mind. He was listening to every word of this conversation. I got the feeling the queen’s words were more for Kyros than me.

  “I owe him my life then. Trenit and Tynan, are they…?”

  Her eyes clouded. “Alive. King Julius and King Mikhail negotiated a deal to prevent involvement of an impartial clan. Neither clan was willing to risk losing all.”

  That amazed me—that an impartial clan may not have ruled Fyrlia in the wrong.

  Kyros re-entered the room behind a doctor. Patting my hand, Queen Titania left the room with a long glance at her eldest son.

  The Vissimo doctor grabbed a chart at the end of my hospital bed. The room was filled with medical apparatus.

  “Severe abdominal bruising without internal bleeding,” the doctor read aloud with a nervous peek at Kyros.

  I didn’t blame her; he looked—and felt—murderous.

  “Repaired laceration of the jugular. Laceration to the lip. Severe inner ear damage with—”

  “Is the damage permanent?” I asked.

  She flicked to another page. “Likely, yes. Once the canal is fully healed, we’ll run tests. There didn’t seem to be entry wounds and yet your canals were obliterated. How were they damaged?”

  “I was put inside a metal barrel. They beat against the outside,” I replied.

  Kyros turned away at my words.

  She paled. “I see.”

  “What is the prognosis of her neck?” Kyros asked, menace filling his voice.

  The doctor jolted. “Her n-neck? Scarring will certainly occur. The vascular trauma will result in weakness there for life. Our immediate concern is to prevent potential blood clots as we care for the wound. My recommendation, sir, is that you don’t drink from the right side of her neck again in the future.”

  Why was that making me flush? He’d literally done it four times already. Except I’d never seen him behave like this. So uncertain. Inside, Kyros was a stormy sea.