Death Game: Supernatural Battle (Vampire Towers Book 3)

by Kelly St Clare

  I was more than ready for him and grumbled when he dropped to his knees before me.

  “One last taste,” he said, before latching on to my clit.

  A wordless scream shredded my being as my head fell back.

  A haze was spreading, flooding my cheeks with fever. I gripped his hair, moving against his mouth, powerless to remain still.

  “Ky,” I cried out.

  He slipped a finger into me and my knees shook. The haze was growing so hot. A sauna. I scrambled to unhook my bra, my legs buckling.

  “Too hot,” I complained, my mind clouded with fire.

  Kyros lowered us onto the chaise and hovered over me. Our gazes locked as he held my knees wide. We held our breath as he moved to my entrance.

  He pressed inside me and our moans tangled as tightly as our emotions.

  We rocked into each other, an odd calmness to our movements that we’d never experienced outside of the thrall.

  I locked my ankles behind his hips, straining to meet every deep, blissful thrust. His fangs lengthened, and I stroked them in time to our rhythm.

  His rapture was mine. The pleasure he felt, I did too.

  “Fucking perfect,” Kyros hissed, sucking one of my nipples into his mouth, careful not to pierce the surrounding skin with his incisors

  I arched, clamping around him. His hiss turned to a savage snarl, and he palmed my breasts, hands roaming as frantically as mine.

  Sweat from resisting the sixth exchange coated us, but the pressure in my body was building despite my best efforts. The mindlessness that always accompanied the orgasms Kyros gave me was creeping over my senses. That out-of-body moment when I could only fathom ecstasy and the connection to him.

  “I love you, Basilia Le Spyre,” Kyros whispered.

  Heart at bursting point, I opened my mouth, but my answering words turned to a scream as his fangs sliced into my breasts, catapulting me headfirst into the deepest pleasure I’d ever known.

  It shook my mind. Shook my body.

  Because the pleasure came from us.

  And nothing, no one, had ever meant more to me.

  My true mate.

  A pulling sensation on my chest gently tugged me back to the chaise in my office.

  In a legless daze, I stared at Kyros lapping blood from my chest as he continued to move in and out of me. A trickle of red escaped his lips as he tensed.

  A roar burst from his mouth as he shoved into me, eliciting a fresh round of aftershocks for me. Half wild, I snatched for his wrist, desperate for his blood. My breath hitched, and a growl left my lips as my mate pulled his arm away, slowing the pace of his thrusts.

  “Now,” I demanded, the order morphing to a breathless moan as he pulled me up to straddle him.

  I gasped at the fullness of him inside me with the changed position, but wasted no time rocking against him in firm circles.

  His eyes were green fire as he bit into his wrist. Cupping the back of my neck, Kyros hovered his dripping wound over my mouth, waiting as I swallowed each mouthful before feeding me more.

  I swallowed more and more of his sweet blood, our gazes locked, bodies connected and moving in perfect, beautiful sync.

  “I love you, Kyros Atagio,” I said hoarsely. Pressing one hand to his cheek, I rested my other palm over his heart.

  Our heart.

  Red fell freely from his eyes.

  And fire slammed into me.

  20

  I crawled after the morsel, licking my lips.

  Hungry.

  “Fuck my life,” a woman said.

  I liked her. Mostly. Not when she wouldn’t give me the food.

  I blinked a few times at the sandwich on the floor. Something was funny about it. And ouch, my knees hurt.

  Sitting back on my haunches, I studied the petite woman with new eyes.

  “Tommy?” I asked.

  Her eyes widened. “Holy shit, is it over? Am I talking with Basil or Coriander?”

  I shivered as fire drained from my veins, leaving me cold. I recognised the feeling this time. The thrall.

  And yep, I had my memories again.

  “It’s Basil,” I rasped at her.

  We were in my suite. It was intact—no painted walls, no moved furniture or décor pinecones.

  I frowned at the sandwich, tracing the length of nylon tied around the baguette to the stick in Tommy’s hand. “What the hell? Are you leading me around the room with a sandwich on a string?”

  She huffed and picked up the baguette. “I was trying to get you into the shower.”

  My lips twitched.

  “It was working,” she exploded. “You try looking after crazy you for three fucking days. I’m never having kids. Ever!”

  Shit.

  “That bad, huh?” I didn’t need her confirmation. It was. It definitely, definitely was.

  Tommy winced. “Laurel said it was tame compared to some of your other thralls. You spent most of the time trying to escape to find Kyros. If I wasn’t babysitting you and if you hadn’t taken me hostage at one point, I’d almost be impressed. And you refused to take off that outfit, so the stink is real, girl.”

  I peered down at my clothing.

  “Fuck,” I ground out.

  Fucking black leather! Head to toe in the stuff. Again. I groaned, running my hands through my knotted hair.

  A small squeak escaped Tommy, and I dared her with my eyes to mention Jessica Alba.

  “Jessica Alba,” she said immediately, snorting.

  Ugh.

  Forcing my disintegrated standards from my mind, I grimaced, recalling tying sheets together to rappel out my window. I faked sickness on the second day. Called the police a few times.

  Crap. Thrall me was resourceful as hell.

  “Sorry about the last three days,” I said. “Maybe I’ll take that shower.” And apologise to the leather gods.

  Tommy stopped me. “Really, it wasn’t that bad. Kind of endearing in a way. And you should congratulate yourself for reaching the sixth exchange.”

  I blanched, gazing at her. That’s right. Now she mentioned it, I was where I’d planned to be from the start.

  Go me.

  While in the throes of revenge, I’d imagined this moment would feel a hell of a lot better.

  Forcing a smile, I strode into the bathroom, stopping short when I felt Kyros’s focus. The sensation of him within me was so strong. His feelings, his state, now held equal importance with my own. My mind was half preoccupied by him.

  And—whoa, what the hell was that?

  There was an inexplicable draw from behind me. I spun in a circle. The draw wasn’t to the shower, not to something in this room, or on the estate. The feeling was tugging me toward Grey, and my mouth rounded as I figured it out.

  Oh my god.

  I could feel where Kyros was.

  The book didn’t say anything about this! Neither did Kyros. Or anyone. But as sure as I stood here breathing, I was sure that if I followed the tugging, I’d end up right by his side.

  Where I belonged.

  There was no place I’d rather be right now.

  The thought of the distance between us sent waves of misery and longing through me. His company was guaranteed joy. Anything else was a sub-par quality of living.

  Kyros? I thought his name, focusing hard toward Grey.

  Nothing.

  Could he hear my thoughts this far away? There were distance restrictions on the mind-reading thing unlike everything else. I was relieved not to hear anything just yet though. Having someone in my mind would be a whole new adjustment period. For both of us.

  Turning on the shower, I settled into one of the longest wash, shave, hydrate routines I’d ever had. It rivalled the one I went through after discovering vampires. That seemed like so long ago now, yet in reality only a few months had passed.

  Everything was different now.

  And everything could be stolen away in the coming days.

  That couldn’t happen—I woul
dn’t let it. Or I wasn’t Agatha Le Spyre’s granddaughter.

  Business time.

  Moisturising a second time, I strode into the room naked. Tommy was gone—couldn’t blame her. I owed her big time for that. She was the only person barring Kyros who I didn’t mind seeing me like that.

  I dressed for the day I wanted.

  Black jeans, white T-shirt, royal-blue blazer, and a feature necklace. Leaving my hair down, I zipped mocha heeled boots into place.

  “Princess Laurel,” I bellowed, striding from my suite.

  “I’m right here.”

  Cursing, I whirled to the wall, hand clutching the base of my throat.

  “And I’m not a princess any longer,” she said.

  Semantics. “Where are we at?” Usually this conversation would occur in my office. I was done with that.

  She straightened. “Please come with me.”

  I trailed down the stairs out to the pool area after her. Stopping on the patio, I gazed out at the sea of leather-clad Indebted.

  Leather-clad people.

  Laurel rested a hand on my shoulder. “Not everyone could attend, seeing as we’re keeping up the charade for now. But those who could be…” She gestured to the huge crowd of enslaved vampires. For a very few of them, their own crimes had landed them here. Most of them were here to pay for the crimes of others.

  Decades and centuries never knowing which day would be their last. At the mercy of the whims of their masters.

  Whatever was happening in my life, this moment made every struggle worth it.

  “How many signed the contract?”

  “Everyone but Deana. She doesn’t believe she deserves freedom. If you’re willing to keep the offer open, then we will continue to convince her that our pasts don’t define us.” Laurel looked into the crowd, and I followed her gaze to the woman who’d accidentally introduced me to Vissimo.

  I preferred concise orders over grand speeches, but the weight of this situation—that I couldn’t possibly understand the entire significance of without walking in their shoes—chased away my qualms.

  Sometimes grand speeches were necessary.

  From the top of the patio stairs, I surveyed their silent masses, a tiny piece of me wondering what my staff thought of this gathering.

  “I come from a different world to yours,” I said in a soft voice. “But in the last few months, I’ve felt more at home in your company than anywhere else. You are not Indebted, and what happened to you was wrong. Enslaving any being is a disgusting, deplorable act. You are Vissimo.”

  A murmur ran through the crowd, but they otherwise stood like soldiers, listening intently to my words.

  There was so much I could say. That I wanted to say, but to put the pain I felt on their behalf into words was an impossible thing. Better that they found solace amongst each other, as I’d found in those compelled as I was. They needed real understanding.

  Scanning them for a full minute, I said, “You will work for me for a time, but you need to know that from this moment, you are no longer slaves, you are free. Throw off your chains and live without fear in honour of those who couldn’t be here with us today.”

  Drawing out my phone, I opened my emails. “Let’s make it official.”

  I’d already drafted an email—yes, modern-age correspondence—to Clan Gugi with the registration numbers of all the Indebted. Without removing Deana’s name from the list, I clicked Send.

  Laurel’s gaze was heavy on me.

  I scrolled through my contacts to Donald Duck and dialled.

  “Miss Le Spyre,” the head of my financial team answered.

  Four rings.

  Unacceptable. But I’d deal with that another time.

  “Roger,” I said coolly. “I’m making a large transfer. Here’s the account number.”

  I smirked as he scrambled for a paper and pen, rattling off the number and account name. He read it back.

  “Correct,” I replied.

  “The amount, Miss Le Spyre?”

  I surveyed the Indebted, smiling at them. “Five hundred and twenty-two million.”

  “Usual currency?”

  “Yes.”

  He hesitated. “What should I file the transfer under, miss?”

  I rolled my eyes. “Whatever you want, Roger. Hamburgers. Send me confirmation when it’s done.”

  Hanging up, I descended the steps and perched on the bottom one. Closing my eyes, I tilted my face to the sun and waited.

  There had to be more than five hundred Vissimo here, but I could have been alone with only the slight breeze lifting my hair. No one made a peep.

  My phone buzzed.

  I read the message and then typed the second number from Kyros into my phone.

  I held it to my ear.

  “Clan Gugi, Indebted division. You’re speaking with Sora.”

  One ring.

  That was service. Roger should take notes.

  “Sora. It’s Basilia Le Spyre. My true mate, Kyros Atagio, contacted you regarding our recent sixth exchange.”

  “Hold, please.”

  Please have called. Please have called.

  “Mrs Le Spyre, yes. We received his confirmation.”

  I pulled a face at the Mrs bomb. He absolutely did that on purpose to mess with me.

  She attacked a keyboard in the background. “We’ve also received your email with the codes of two thousand and thirty-two Indebted.”

  “Payment was just put through,” I told her. “How long does clearance usually take?”

  “Twelve hours at the most, Mrs Le Spyre. Confirmation of payment will be sent by email.”

  I grimaced again. Damn, longer than I’d hoped. “Thank you.”

  “Is there anything else I can help you with today?”

  Jesus. How often did this woman process the freedom of more than two thousand slaves? “No. That’s all.”

  I hung up and flipped my phone before sliding it into my back pocket.

  “I didn’t want to be freed.” Deana stood before me, rage etched in the hard lines of her face.

  She’d lost every shred of innocence in her features since I first saw her wrapped around her human boyfriend.

  Waving Laurel away, I got to my feet. “You’re free, regardless.”

  “I didn’t sign the contract,” she spat.

  My brows rose. “No, you didn’t. I guess that means you’re totally free to do what you want.”

  Fear widened her eyes. “No.”

  “Clearly, being free is the harder path for you. If you really want to torture yourself for what happened, choose to live in painful freedom.”

  A confused frown graced her face.

  “Go or stay. If you stay, you work for the same wage as everyone else with the same time off. If you choose to go, you need to wait one week.”

  I turned to Laurel, who dipped her head.

  She’d watch Deana until I let the cat out of the bag.

  I climbed a few stairs so the Vissimo could see me. “I’ll send word out when final confirmation comes through. Thank you for being brave enough to accept my offer. Now, please listen closely. My friend Tommy is in charge of housing. A list of available houses and the number each rental sleeps will be handed out tomorrow. A team will arrive early next week to start the process of setting up bank accounts, tax numbers, and applying for identification. For the next four to six weeks, until we have everything necessary, you will be paid in cash. You will receive payment from today. I’ve arranged for your first month to be paid in advance so you’re able to purchase various items you need. These funds will be distributed tomorrow.”

  I studied the slackening faces. “My butler, Fred, will hand out a template budget sheet that I drew up. This will help you spread funds to cover discounted rent, food, public transportation, and other costs of living. Some may not need this, but some time has passed since you had control of money, so I hope the template doesn’t come across as insulting. Of course, aside from housing costs, you’re
welcome to spend your money how you wish.”

  I took a breath. “Laurel and Vladymir are in charge of the work and housing roster. I’m sure they’ve notified you of this, but until further notice, you are to continue your current work for Fyrlia and Sundulus. I apologise for this subterfuge, but it is a necessary one.”

  They were silent as I finished.

  “That’s it,” I said lamely.

  Laurel sank to her knees beside me, her head bowed.

  Not this again.

  In a wave, the Vissimo mimicked their leader, dropping to their knees.

  “Enough of that,” I said sharply.

  They didn’t budge.

  Blowing out an irritated breath, I dropped to my knees, too, bowing my head to them. Their response wasn’t so much a murmur as a shocked intake of air.

  Ha! “I’m not standing until the rest of you do,” I murmured, lifting my head. “So get the fuck up because my knees hurt.”

  “We could outlast you,” Laurel replied, her gaze cutting to me.

  “No doubt,” I replied. “So give me the pity win, please.”

  Laurel rested a hand over her heart. “You are a friend of ours. Forevermore.”

  I swallowed hard. Did she have any idea what that word meant to me? My forevermore love. Something my grandmother had often said to me.

  If she could see me right now, I know she’d be so proud.

  “We will not forget this day,” Laurel whispered.

  Her fervent words robbed me of speech, so I just placed a hand over my heart in return.

  She stood and the other leather-clad vampires followed suit. I joined them, scowling at their outfits.

  “Maybe now you can leave the black leather to Jessica Alba where it belongs,” I muttered.

  “You spent two days of your thrall in black leather,” Laurel replied in an even tone.

  I turned away, entering the house. “Prove it.”

  She called after me. “Look through your phone.”

  Dammit. They didn’t?

  I hurried into my office, scrolling through my gallery, settling on a photo of me hanging off one of the posts on my bed.