Death Game: Supernatural Battle (Vampire Towers Book 3)

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Death Game: Supernatural Battle (Vampire Towers Book 3) Page 12

by Kelly St Clare


  “I’ve been meaning to apologise about going into Fyrlia territory and putting you at risk. I didn’t understand it completely at the time, but I gather now that if I died and Kyros lost the plot, you would have paid the price. And Kearra.”

  “Life is too short to apologise for things that never happened. Your intent was not malicious. You warned us. Everything worked out.”

  No, it didn’t.

  “Okay, I’m still sorry though.”

  “My time is precious, Miss Le Spyre. You’re wasting it.”

  Total badass. I’d said it once, I’d say it a million times. “Spit it out then, Safina.”

  “Most of my siblings have spent quality time with you—”

  I spun in my chair. “That’s what you guys are calling it? Quality time?”

  She was walking around a room. I listened to the rustling of papers, imagining her in the penthouse of her own tower. Aside from Kyros Sky, I’d only been to Lionel’s tower—to look at his model of the vertical farming developments.

  “Call it what you will,” Safina said breezily. “Because my time is short these days—”

  “—You’re not going to do anything to me?”

  “Quaint. No. But I will make things easier if you’re cooperative.”

  I groaned. “That’s where Lionel learned it.”

  “What?”

  “He used that exact line on me during his turn.”

  Safina hummed. “We must teach our younger siblings all we can to survive.”

  They could have stopped at don’t touch the hot oven, Lionel.

  “Tell me straight then. What crap have you got planned?”

  She purred down the line. “A week’s worth of outfits, shoes, and jewellery are about to arrive at your estate. They are labelled Monday to Saturday. You are to wear them each night with your hair styled in my usual bun. Make-up is to be kept simple. I will send you a picture to mimic. This week, you’ll sit next to me when we’re in the same room. You’ll mimic my actions. Bonus points if you copy some of my other mannerisms and speech patterns.”

  I absorbed that. “You want me to be a mini-me?”

  “Yes.”

  My lips trembled. “Safina. That’s seriously messed up.”

  “The only thing worse than not fucking your true mate is for her to look like your sister while you obsess over it.”

  Brilliant.

  Husky chuckles tumbled from my lips. “I really like you. I’m totally behind your Game of Thrones mindfuckery.”

  “Thought you might be.”

  This would create the barrier I needed to erect between us again.

  And Safina didn’t even know I’d called Kyros mate last night either.

  The seconds’ furious debate bounced overhead as Kyros stared at me in consternation. He’d been frowning at me since I arrived on Level 66, but until Safina got here, I doubted the vampire would put it together.

  “Enough,” Kyros said.

  Fangs retreated, and everyone sat.

  I studied my hashtags.

  There was only one.

  #amscrewed

  Angelica strode into the room per her usual cue. Everyone tapped on their tablets. I did the same, opening the House Acquisition file. Usually, the first page contained the properties in whichever suburb the roll had landed on.

  “Today, a slight detour from the norm,” the Vissimo began. “For the last three decades, rates of privately sold properties have held steady. Last year, the rate doubled as tourism spiked and vacation homes became a trend. Or so we assumed. While that theory was supported by the purchase of houses in waterfront locations and townhouse purchases in Black and Blue, there has been a recent and dramatic shift.”

  Uh-oh.

  “The rate of privately-purchased properties has doubled again in the last two months.”

  I arched my brows. “So much?”

  Angelica dipped her head. “I had my team do some digging. It appears that over 9000 homes in Bluff City were purchased by offshore owners.”

  Ilion jerked. “Nine thousand? That’s 15 percent of the residential market.”

  Think of Tommy leaving. Think of Tommy leaving.

  “Private transactions usually operate at a word of mouth and local level, but the scale of this is suspicious to the extreme. Someone is brokering these deals, and yet our staff have never come across other realtors, beside Foremost workers. Not only that, the private owners we consider problematic are increasingly selling to overseas buyers.”

  I’d known this moment would come as I accelerated acquisition. I needed to focus on the conversation as much as possible.

  Angelica bowed. “I leave the seconds to discuss the possible reasons behind the surge; however, you can find a list of proposed theories at the bottom of the second page. If Foremost isn’t behind these purchases, this could be a potential market to hit with everything we have.”

  Scrolling down, I skimmed through the theories of her team while doing my best to focus on what I had for breakfast that morning.

  “Have you had contact with any of the owners or buyers?” Kyros asked, glancing up at her.

  “I was awaiting your decision, sir.” Angelica straightened.

  “You’ll have one by the end of the night.”

  She bowed again, then launched into an abbreviated version of her usual spiel. Sundulus landed on Purple tonight. After her report, the stream of other team leaders delivered their reports. The door had barely closed on the Forecasting Head of Team before Conrad erupted.

  “Foremost is behind the private sales,” he said, bursting to his feet. “It’s a safety net. They broker a deal and keep the details of the sale under wraps. They can then purchase the properties back when they wish. It would be perfectly within the rules.”

  Danielle tapped her pen on the table. “No. If they had over nine thousand properties, then they could have won the game by now. Why would they broker private sales to overseas buyers instead of keeping the homes for themselves?”

  Kyros was watching me.

  I had to say something. “Because the trouble properties are demonstrating resistance to Live Right and Foremost. They likely prefer to sell privately than deal with either company. When the property is sold, Foremost can then approach the overseas buyers, who don’t have any resistance to their offer. Holiday homes are often an investment. Convincing overseas clientele to sell due to plummeting house values would be child’s play.”

  Ilion scrolled through his tablet. “But some of these properties were purchased nearly thirty years ago. The rate has greatly accelerated in the last month, but prior to that, the rate was steady—between 300 and 350 properties were privately purchased each year.”

  Go, Agatha.

  “Just a theory.”

  Kyros peered at me over steepled hands. “There’s more.”

  Dammit.

  My palms grew slick with sweat, and I reasoned away my thumping heart. All the seconds were looking at me. At least part of my reaction was masked by the natural instincts of my body around them. “Having visited a lot of these trouble properties, I can tell you that public favour for this company and Foremost isn’t good. I don’t think you should discount the possibility that the residents of Bluff City talk to each other. You know word of mouth is the strongest marketing tool there is. The information we’ve spread about plummeting house prices would have only skyrocketed that word of mouth. I also don’t think you should dismiss that someone might have seen an opportunity to make money. You may have forced other realtors out of work, but if someone is brokering overseas deals, they’re filling a niche where there is no competition. Of course they’d thrive.”

  Satisfaction thrummed through Kyros, and I held onto the very real passion I’d felt during my outburst so relief didn’t edge in.

  I tuned in as the seconds launched into their usual debate. The fury level was at a record high. Everyone felt the stress of what was looking more and more like an imminent loss to Fyrlia. The forecast
ers reported that the end cascade would be triggered within three weeks unless Sundulus did something huge.

  Beforehand, that something huge was the bluff with Mr Ringly that hardly anyone knew about. That was gone now, though Kyros’s family was still hoping it would turn around.

  Three weeks to make everything right.

  So little time. And yet I’d decided to sit on my information from Sandra Hoyt. When I brought that information forward, I’d tell Sundulus absolutely everything about what I said to Mikael. Kyros would be pissed. Mega pissed. Possibly never-talk-to-me-again pissed.

  So I couldn’t risk him cancelling the fifth exchange over it.

  If the book on mating rituals was correct, we’d be almost inseparable at that point. The opportunity to trigger the sixth exchange with Kyros’s tenuous lack of control would be easier. He may even be more inclined to forgive me.

  Which only served to show me how desperate I felt.

  And what a coward I was.

  Shaking that off, I settled into listening, tapping out hashtags when a comment caught my fancy and slipping in my opinion when something unvoiced occurred to me.

  When the seconds zoomed out per their usual exit, Kyros switched off his tablet and stalked slowly toward me. “What do you type down during every meeting? I thought it was notes at first, but you’re always amused.”

  That’s because I was within the sad percentage of the population who found their own jokes funny.

  I opened the notes app and tilted the screen toward him.

  He tore his gaze from my pantsuit and pearl necklace to the device, reading, “Hashtag am screwed more.”

  Dang. Maybe it wasn’t funny to other people.

  “It’s how I keep track of the conversation when the Vissimo power turns up a notch or ten.”

  Kyros read the others, his lips twitching at #juliadoublecrossingdinh.

  Not a complete loser. Go, me.

  “Hashtag Fyrlia crumb trail,” he said, pointing at the last hashtag. “What does that mean?”

  “I think Ilion’s right. There should be a team dedicated to fishing out corrupt deals that Fyrlia has made. The team could target the larger deals from, say, one to two years ago. I feel like they would have taken care in recent months as they drew ahead, but before that, I feel like there’s a chance Fyrlia won’t have bothered to cover their tracks as diligently.”

  “Very good, mate. Let’s put it to my brothers and sisters.” Placing a hand on my lower back, he directed me out of the room ahead of him.

  Mate.

  He had to go and say it.

  “Do you regret saying it then?” he murmured at my back.

  I shivered, already tense from having him behind me. Did I regret calling him mate? “No.”

  Biting back my smile at his answering growl, I scampered into the next meeting room, beelining for Safina. She turned as I approached.

  “Ah, Basilia.”

  “Ah, Safina.” I copied her slightly bored tone. Was that how this worked?

  Gerome’s mouth dropped open and he whacked Francesca. She hissed, fangs lengthening, then glanced at me and Safina. Her fangs disappeared.

  She whipped out her phone, and in unison, the other siblings drew out theirs.

  Kyros scanned Rory and Neelan as they snickered. “What’s—?” He froze as his gaze landed on Safina and me.

  “Brother?” she said, tilting her head.

  “Kyros?” I said, tilting mine.

  Horror filled him, and I nearly lost it on the spot. His gaze snapped to mine, and I worked to keep my face smooth even though he could feel me hooting inside.

  “Oh my gosh,” Lalitta hushed.

  Dierdre was crying with silent laughter. Go figure.

  Kyros’s throat worked, and he shuddered visibly and internally. “Please be seated. We have much to discuss before the call to King Julius.”

  Safina leaned back, crossing her legs. I did the same a beat later.

  Lust and revulsion warred for first place within the massive vampire.

  Oh, yeah.

  This was going to be a fun week.

  12

  The video recording of Sandra Hoyt came to an end. I surveyed the shocked faces around the table.

  “Fucking monsters,” Mr Hothen spat. “Why didn’t she come to me for help?”

  The desperate weren’t known for 20/20 vision.

  I placed my phone on the table. “I consulted a rule book. Proof must be examined by an impartial, uh, group. I fear that presenting it to… S… will result in Sandra being caged.” I hadn’t just consulted the rule book, I’d also clarified the point in vague terms with Deana.

  Sandra would be dragged in for questioning and compelled to silence afterward. That was the absolute verdict.

  “I want to find another angle. I won’t involve her unless there’s a way to do it safely,” I told them.

  She’d been through so much already.

  Lady Treena set her champagne flute down. “Julia Dinh.”

  “Possibly. S is aware that she’s playing both sides. Or at least is being controlled by F somehow. They’re pouring resources into an investigation in that area. It’s likely we’d be noticed trying to do the same. The same with Mr R. He’ll be under close surveillance by both sides.”

  I was getting pretty good at talking around the compulsion while calm like this, but it was still a frustrating process.

  Sir Olythieu hummed, stroking his short white beard.

  “I could put through a request for a site inspection via one of the council workers,” Lady Treena said. “If there’s a planning breach, then development will be delayed while a retrospective application is put through. Or ideally, there’ll be something there to warrant an enforcement notice.”

  I shook my head. “S has done that stuff already. I’m more worried that Sandra is our only bet to restore order.”

  Mr Hothen placed both hands on the table. “Then we’re best to set our sights on how to achieve that without her being hurt. Human lives will not be sacrificed for this endeavour.”

  “Agreed,” I murmured with the others.

  “I wish I could kill every one of them,” Mr Dithis cursed, standing and whirling away to pace the room.

  Dame Burke leaned back. “I used to dream of dropping bombs on their homes.”

  Mrs Syrre. “Animals, the lot of them.”

  My stomach twisted at the hatred etched on the six faces around me. I hesitated, wondering if I should say something. It wouldn’t do any good though. They’d hated Vissimo for decades—longer than I’d been alive. Not all vampires were cruel, but I only knew that because of my unusual position. If I wasn’t Kyros’s mate, I’d hate their kind just as much. My position as his true mate granted me a lot of leeway with his minions and even the sane members of the other clan.

  I picked up my buzzing phone and studied the name.

  “Be very quiet,” I announced, cutting off Mr Hothen.

  Fixing them with a warning look that they immediately understood, I answered the phone.

  “Kyros. I’m in a meeting.”

  “What meeting?”

  Standing, I turned away from the table. “A boring one, but a necessary one. What do you need?”

  “The agricultural lot you secured for us,” he said. “That was from a family friend, correct?”

  I paced, setting my mind on my grumbling stomach. “My grandmother’s friend. I didn’t ever meet him. Barnaby Dwelt.”

  “I was mulling over Angelica’s report last night. Live Right staff are trying to locate the previous owners of offshore-owned properties this week, but you’ve had contact with one already.”

  Fuck balls. Think of lunch. Think of lunch.

  “Well, yes. Except I had his contact information already.”

  He inhaled. “That’s what I wanted to ask you. Lot 91 was purchased fourteen years ago, so it may be irrelevant to the recent surge, but it’s all we currently have. Could you get in contact with Mr Dwelt and ask h
ow the private deal was brokered?”

  I pursed my lips. “I can do that, yes.”

  His relief poured through me, and I squeezed my eyes shut.

  “Is there a chance you may have connections to any of the other privately sold properties?”

  Uh, just a few of them.

  “What’s funny?” he asked, a smile in his voice.

  “There are over nine thousand properties, Kyros. I have no idea. Ask Angelica to send a list of the addresses and names through. I’ll look.”

  He spoke rapidly over his shoulder. “Done. One more thing. Barnaby Dwelt. I couldn’t find any information on him through our systems.”

  Because he doesn’t exist. “The very rich have that privilege. Search my name. I’d gather it’s the same.”

  I listened to him typing.

  He swore. “When did you wear that?”

  “What?” I glanced at the oldies, who were as still as wrinkled statues.

  “White leotard. Looks like leather.” Kyros swore again.

  I choked on a laugh. “The opening of Forbidden. I changed before the tower.” Neither of us could handle the heat that would have erupted if I’d shown up in that.

  “Do you still have it?”

  “You realise there are a bunch of people waiting for me right now?”

  His lust didn’t dim. “I’ve had to watch you parade around looking like my sister all week, Basilia. Cut me some slack.”

  “I knew Safina’s would be the best.”

  “Gerome won’t stop sending me Jamie Lannister memes. I had to look up the reference. He’s a character who sleeps with his sister in some show.”

  Laughter burst from my lips. “Originally a book series. And he would do that. I’m just surprised you know what memes are. I mean, you have a handle on GIFs, but this is getting ridiculous. Next thing I know, you’ll stop wearing suits.”

  He laughed low. “I’m watching Truth Ranges here and there. They talk about memes and GIFs, so I looked them up a while back.”

  I clapped a hand over my mouth. He’d kept that fucking quiet! “You’re kidding me. What episode are you up to?”

  “Nine.”

  “Trissa is hanging between two buildings by her cardigan and it’s starting to tear!”

 

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