Because she was taken from me so quickly. Before I was ready. The trauma surrounding her death had locked my grief in time.
I couldn’t see the suite as anything else.
And maybe I didn’t have to yet.
Maybe I never would.
Perhaps packing up her things was the first step. Or a trial. I could see what happened after it. What I felt like doing next.
I picked up a box and approached the bathroom. It seemed like the most impersonal space. Packing up toiletries was stupid, yet I couldn’t throw them out. I sniffed her bath salts, a lump rising in my throat as I remembered baths in here with Tommy when we were seven or eight years old.
I placed the lavender salts in the box, and smelled her shampoo, conditioner, and body wash in turn before doing the same with them. Maybe one day I’d have the capacity to donate or throw things out. Today wasn’t that day.
All her cosmetics and care products went into the box, but I placed her favourite peach-coloured lipstick on the bed. Maybe I’d use that.
I pivoted in a slow circle, my socked feet sliding easily on the floor. I placed my hands on the waistband of my black hot pants, blowing my hair off my cheek, then smiled as my grandmother’s reproach of don’t let your hair cover your face rang in my ears. I obediently flipped my ponytail over my shoulder, feeling the long strands settled against my back left mostly bare by the black sports bra.
I wish she was here to deliver her tongue-lashing reproaches in person.
I miss you so much.
Traipsing to the dresser, I started splitting the jewellery into pieces I’d keep and pieces I’d put in the safe. I placed her wedding rings onto the keep pile, pushing a gold and emerald necklace to the other pile while trying not to think too hard about what I was doing.
I’d spent every night in here for months after my parents’ death, and then every other night for two years. Even into my late teens, I’d sneak in to sleep beside my beloved grandmother.
She’d never acknowledged my presence with more than a pat on my hand, but sometimes I’d wake to find her hand on my forehead, with her still fast asleep.
Never again.
Yet I had so many wonderful memories with her.
Watching her shut down spiteful comments from her rivals without batting an eyelash.
Indulging in too much brandy and actually taking off her blazer while out of her room.
Her straight back.
Her steady gaze.
Her blatant love for me.
I placed the right pile of jewellery on the bed next to the lipstick and set the other in a box that I jotted the words for the safe on.
Replacing the cap, I knelt on the ground before her wardrobe, lavender filling my senses.
A tear slipped down my cheek, and I dashed it away. “I need help,” I whispered.
To her.
Closing my eyes, I drew forth the image of my grandmother’s face. Her flinty eyes and penetrating topaz gaze.
Yesterday, I spent five hours on the Ferris wheel at the theme park reading through the Vissimo law book and the Ingenium rule book.
I’d come to the realisation that the only person I needed to justify my actions to was Agatha Le Spyre. But I couldn’t because she was gone. And that was why I’d tried to justify them to everyone else—my oldies, Kyros, his family, Tommy, Fred, Laurel.
If Grandmother was here, we would have spoken, agreed or disagreed, and moved on long ago.
My grief and my desire and need to respect and uphold my grandmother’s wishes was crippling me.
I needed to come to terms with what I could bear to do.
Drawing up the memory of her, I murmured, “I can’t do exactly what you wanted me to do. Everything has changed.”
I’d said something similar to her when I stopped associating with Harriet Gregorian and her horde, and I still remembered her reply.
Have your standards, Basilia. Stick to those standards, but always be ready to flow into a different path. That’s why we draw lines in the sand, so we can move them as we grow. Rigid idiots snap in half, and my granddaughter is no idiot.
She’d been right, of course. I outgrew my rich friends the moment they hurt Tommy. After that day, I drew a new line in the sand. I’d drawn new lines at least a dozen times in the last three months.
Nothing was set in stone.
Nothing except my love for her, and what I shared with Kyros. That would never go away.
Would my grandmother like Kyros? If he wasn’t Vissimo, that was. Tall, handsome, business-minded, intelligent, and a good dresser.
I grinned.
Yes, she’d approve.
It shouldn’t matter that he’d have fangs. Agatha Le Spyre hadn’t shied away from other races and cultures. Even with her hatred of the vampires in Bluff City, I believed that she would have become accustomed to Kyros in time. After trying to force him away. Knowing him, he’d probably enjoy the challenge.
She may have disliked him, but she would have respected him.
As I’d always respected her.
I needed retribution for my last family member; for the way she’d died and for her efforts to free the humans here from Vissimo control.
In spirit, I hoped to still achieve that for her and her friends.
It just wouldn’t be in the way they liked. Nor in a way they might understand.
I didn’t even know if such a thing was possible yet.
I drew in a slow breath, holding onto the memory of my grandmother’s face.
Always be ready to flow into a different path.
The end of the path was set. Ingenium had to be won, and that couldn’t alter. But everything up until that point could alter within the rules of the game.
I swallowed hard.
There were many things I did want in life but living as she did... not one bit. In the throes of bitter anger after Kyros’s subterfuge, I threw myself into revenge. And I’d really believed that I could live the double life, the two roles remaining cleanly separated on either side of my line in the sand.
The line that was distorted beyond measure at this point.
I had to re-draw it.
With a new plan.
My grandmother smiled in my mind, and I thought back to the moment I left the estate. In a rage, I was certain she couldn’t understand how trapped I felt.
Why did I need to follow in the family footsteps?
I hadn’t wanted that life.
I’d thought her as furious as me, but in my mind, the vision of her was entirely calm.
Go after the life you want, she’d said, watching as I flung down my electronics in a huff and grabbed my Elegance pack.
I will, the memory of myself hurled back.
She arched a brow. Good. Then I’ve raised you right.
I batted open my lashes.
My grandmother’s legacy wasn’t contained in her efforts in Ingenium. I was her legacy. The 10 percent growth of the Le Spyre fortune under her management was her legacy. Quiet grace. Firm truth. Sharp intelligence.
That was my grandmother’s legacy, and everyone who knew her well felt the weight of that in their hearts.
How could I ever think she’d want anything more than my happiness and the happiness of her friends?
I couldn’t be my grandmother. She’d never wanted me to be. But I could heed her advice.
Go after the life you want.
A tired smile spread across my face as I stood and grabbed the first of her skirt suits, folding it gently into the box at my feet.
“I will, Grandmother,” I whispered.
There were twelve days to do so.
18
The phone rang, and I paused in my frantic typing to swipe up the handset.
“Miss Le Spyre, it’s Daniel.”
“Yes, Daniel?” I said, my knee bouncing with impatience.
“We’ve had a visitor the last few nights,” he said. “At first I thought it was one of your guests, but he doesn’t dress in black
leather.”
I stilled. “What does he dress in?”
“A suit. I got a still of his face last night, and I believe he’s your male guest. Kyros, was it?”
I would have cracked a grin over the term male guest if my mouth wasn’t suddenly so dry. Kyros was visiting the estate at night. “What time?”
“Around 5:00 a.m., miss.”
After playing Ingenium.
I guessed the only reason I hadn’t charged down to his tower was because he’d been sneaking here at night. Which tore all romance from the gesture. He was coming close enough to satisfy the blood bond so we didn’t have to actually see each other.
“Should I alert the authorities?” he asked.
I settled back in the cushioned chair. “No. Don’t do that. Next time he shows up, send me a message. Don’t call, just message.”
“Copy that.”
As soon as I hung up, the phone rang again.
“Miss Le Spyre, your ten o’clock appointment is here.”
“Thank you, Fred. Send him in.”
Fernando strode in a moment later, closing the door, and turning on the noise-cancelling. “Miss Le Spyre,” he said, bowing low.
He’d lost the fear from our first exchanges, but he kept up the appropriate sheepishness. To my knowledge, his brothers and sisters were still treating him like a piece of shit.
Fernando’s information had proven invaluable so far, and I’d decided that if Laurel agreed, he’d be freed alongside the others. If I managed to pull anything off, that was.
I still needed the sixth exchange to occur with Kyros. Not only to free the Indebted, but to have any chance of putting my new plan into effect.
Even then, I’d be relying on Kyros’s forgiveness for any of this to work.
“Fernando. Report,” I said, giving him my full attention.
He bowed again. “You were right. Sandra Hoyt was under compulsion to report. She’s tied to Gina. As soon as you left Sandra’s house, she had to phone Gina and tell her everything. But she wasn’t compelled to do more, so she still ran and managed to evade them for five days until they caught up.”
I should have brought her with me that day. She never would have managed to report with my Indebted around.
That was a grievous mistake I’d live with for the rest of my life. The memory of Sandra and Rhys would forever stain my hands red even if I hadn’t personally killed them.
“Fyrlia’s status in Ingenium?”
He clasped his hands behind his back. “King Mikael speaks of how he’ll kill King Julius and the Sundulus royals. He speaks of how he’ll treat Queen Titania, and how he’ll make his eldest son see the light.”
My stomach flipped at the thought that Mikael may get what he’d so desperately sought for one-and-a-half centuries. He didn’t deserve Kyros.
“What’s the feeling between the Fyrlia siblings? Has the divide between the remaining Tonyi triplets widened?”
The vampire dipped his head. “Now that Trenit and Tynan are at each other’s throats, the other siblings have regained the upper hand in the power struggle. I believe King Mikael is once more gravitating toward the counsel of Gina and Hector.”
That made sense. Breaking the rules could cost Fyrlia dearly at this crucial point in the game. “Anything else?”
He hesitated. “Prince Kyros had his weekly visit with Fyrlia. I thought you may be interested to know that King Mikael goaded him with your recent actions.”
It was the fuel I’d given the king to drive a wedge between us. I’d told him to use it to save Tommy’s life.
I swallowed. “And?”
“Prince Kyros defended you against all his attempts to besmirch you.”
Defended how? I wanted to know, and yet it was important to keep Fernando at a distance. “Very well. I’m particularly interested in whatever you can dig up on Fyrlia’s plans for the coming week. Please report back in two days with what you find.”
He bowed again and left.
I tried to regulate my breathing.
Kyros was defending me to Mikael? What did that mean? Was it just a ploy to undermine his enemy? Or had he reasoned through what I’d done and reassessed?
The churning emotion within him hadn’t abated in the slightest. Kyros was as disappointed and furious and shocked as he’d been when the traitorous words left my mouth.
I also knew that the interpretation of his feelings was subjective. How many times had I used that ploy against him? Or focused on a memory to distract him from what I truly felt?
Pulling out my phone, I typed another text. My being needed Kyros desperately, but my plans required him too. The lives of his family, the freedom of the Indebted, and the livelihood of the humans in Bluff City depended on it. Nothing would happen unless I managed to get him in the same room as me.
I could work with angry Kyros, but I couldn’t work with absent Kyros.
I’m sure you have questions
I sent the text and hesitated before adding:
Time is running out to ask them.
Nine days to be exact.
Like a dog waiting for its owner to come home, I listened in on him as he read, uncertainty spread through me at the jolt of sharp yearning that ran through him for a split second before his rage slammed down once more.
Pressing the button under the desk, I grimaced as my ears popped and the sounds outside the room disappeared. I was used to hearing the movements of Fred and the Indebted around me these days; it was uncomfortable to have the sense dampened.
I scrolled through my numbers to Winston and rang my Churchill team.
“Miss Le Spyre,” Eva’s voice trailed down the line. “How can we help you?”
Holding the phone between my shoulder and ear, I finished the email to her. “I’m sending you an email with Foremost and Live Right figures. The team will cease all other projects and focus on an audit of all Foremost and Live Right holdings.”
“We regularly track their acquisitions,” she offered. “How would you like our focus to alter?”
“Go through every single asset Foremost and Live Right has ever purchased, every cent of their income. I’m also sending you the names of other companies they own that are unrelated to real estate. I need the team to assess the holdings of these as well. In no more than seven days, I require the net worth of each company. These numbers need to be entirely accurate, Eva. That’s very important.”
My Churchill team operated with almost zero possession of the facts and reasons for the tasks I set. This was just another day at the office for them.
Through my work at Sundulus, I had an in-depth knowledge of the various public faces of each clan. I had to use that knowledge now to see if what I owned could save Kyros’s family.
I needed to know if my Bluff City assets were worth enough to make a difference.
Go after the life you want.
I was going all in.
“Understood, Miss Le Spyre. I’m reading over your email now and will respond with any queries. The team will be pulled from their normal tasks and reassigned to this audit. Would you like the acquisition teams to continue their work?”
I’d already spoken to Tommy. “Yes. They will continue their work.”
The more I owned in nine days’ time, the better.
I might have enough to bring Sundulus and Fyrlia head to head again. But what I really wanted so very desperately was to trigger the end cascade.
Against Fyrlia.
I wanted to end this for good.
I hadn’t slept, so when my phone vibrated, I sat in a movement much too fast for a human.
Blinking against the glare of light, I read the message from Daniel.
He’s here, Miss Le Spyre
Phew. Here goes.
I didn’t bother creeping to the windows overlooking the south of the estate. If he was here, he was focused on me.
Taking a breath, I slid back the window and leaned out. Putting all my regret and sorrow into the word, I whis
pered, “Kyros.”
He mentally jerked.
I peered into the thick darkness, wondering if he could see me. “Please come inside.”
His longing was an echo of mine. Through the other ugly emotions, even now, our want for each other remained.
“Please,” I repeated.
Retreating to the bed, I perched on the end, and waited.
I had no idea what to expect from him. That we couldn’t be separated endlessly was painfully apparent to both of us, yet he didn’t want to be in my company any more than the blood bond dictated.
That hurt a lot.
But I couldn’t blame him for it.
My bedroom doors opened, and Kyros entered, not bothering to shut them after.
I didn’t look up, fully occupied by the onslaught of emotions exploding from him. Fury. Betrayal. Yearning. Lust.
“You came,” I said, my voice shaking.
It probably meant he was unable to resist the call to claim me, but my mind clung to the tiny hope his reason for coming had nothing to do with the blood bond.
He stalked around the room, keeping a wide berth from me.
I was grateful for that. My head spun with his presence and scent. The urge to go to him, to wrap around him, was almost undeniable.
“I’m not surprised you can’t look at me,” Kyros said, bitterness unfurling like a whip.
The gloves were off.
Stiffening my spine, I tilted my head back when he stopped before me.
A meadow-green gaze met mine. Impossibly handsome as always, the only clue to how the vampire really felt was in the bone-deep weariness in his gaze as he looked at me.
Hollow.
I did that to him.
Him to me.
His family to mine.
Mine to his.
At this point, I’d lost track of who’d wronged one another. All that was left was his emptiness, my guilt, and the threat against those we cared about.
“You must have questions,” I said softly, leaning back to put distance between us so my body recalled it needed air to survive.
I blinked through the vibrations and haze cloying my mind, pushing and whispering to take him. To make him mine.
Death Game: Supernatural Battle (Vampire Towers Book 3) Page 19