Home > Death Game_ Supernatural Battle (Vampire Towers #3)(19)

Death Game_ Supernatural Battle (Vampire Towers #3)(19)
Author: Kelly St. Clare

I went back and forth with trays, squeezing between leather-clad bodies.

On my fourth return journey, the bar was emptied of the bottles I set out. Ha! That was more satisfying than Santa eating the fig and olive tapenade I used to put out on Christmas Eve.

Setting another twenty bottles on the bar, I glanced at Laurel as she approached the bar next to a dude double her size. Dude wasn’t the best term for him. He’d look more at home in a galley with a broad sword in his hands.

Hot damn. Was he in Laurel’s harem? She tended to go for the Viking type.

“Miss Le Spyre,” she said. Formal. “I’d like to introduce you to Vladymir. He holds my position amongst the Fyrlia Indebted.”

Their leader in other words.

Viking Vladymir extended his hand, and I felt a twinge of warmth. Huh. Consider me surprised my lady parts could twitch for anyone but Kyros. I couldn’t help it. This guy exuded promises of wild sex.

I cast a look at Laurel, who arched a brow.

She was totally into him.

“Nice to meet you, Vladymir. The Vissimo attending from Clan Fyrlia are welcome here.”

His grey-blue eyes gleamed. “So it’s true you don’t call us Indebted.”

I shrugged a shoulder. “You’re in debt. That’s not all you are. For most of you, it’s not even your debt. I hate when people treat me like a token rich brat. Whoever decided people should be stereotyped by our most insignificant quality was a fool.”

“I heard of your battle with Theodore Tonyi,” he said.

Stilling, I peered up at the massive fucker. “Not my favourite memory.”

“But an honourable one. You’re not without bravery, young one.”

I didn’t feel honourable. I didn’t feel brave.

Swallowing, I muttered, “Thanks. I’m just sorry you have to work for that psycho, Mikael. I wouldn’t wish that on anyone.”

He exchanged a look with Laurel. She arched a brow, and his lips twitched.

And what that was about, I had no clue.

“You’re not drinking?” I held up a shot to Laurel.

She shook her head. “None of your estate crew are. We need to uphold your safety.”

I grimaced. “Right. Yeah. I guess indulging in hard liquor wouldn’t go down well with Kyros.”

She gestured. “You’re not drinking?”

Things were too shit to drink right now. Which was ironic because that was usually my go-to when manure hit the fan. “Nah, I’ve got to work at the tower later. Is Vladymir in your harem?”

Oops.

That wasn’t the smooth conversation change I’d envisioned.

The Vissimo perused each other the same way I scanned abstract art—like they were trying to figure what the splashes meant and if it was art at all.

“We did discuss the possibility once,” the Viking eventually answered. “The issue being that we both like to be dominated.”

These conversations were miles above my pay grade.

I cleared my throat politely. “How lovely.”

Laurel threw me a grin. “We decided it wouldn’t work.”

“Yeah, but wouldn’t it be like a fight? Like a reverse fight? You’d both be goading each other to take control until one snapped.”

Blinking, I leaned back.

Jesus. When was the fifth exchange? I needed to get some.

The two vampires scanned each other anew.

Now that. That’s how I looked at strawberry mojitos.

“The children from our union would be strong,” he said in a low voice.

Laurel hummed. “The thought of goading you to dominate me appeals.”

He lowered his head. “It is not I who will lose control, skjaldmær. Your womb is mine.”

Fucking hell.

My phone buzzed. I read the message from Kyros.

Where are you and what are you doing?

 

 

Uhm, replying that I had front row seat to a Viking porno may not go down well.

I sent back a puppy GIF.

On second thought, that drink sounded really great.

I teetered around the bar on my stilettos. “Maybe I’ll just have one drink. I’m rich enough to drink strawberry mojitos again after all.” I stared at the Bacardi. “Shit, what other stuff goes in a mojito?”

Josie appeared to my left. “I used to bartend at clan functions. Got strawberries?” She didn’t wait for me to answer, opening the cupboards and drawers in a blur. “No strawberries, but I found passionfruit. Passionfruit mojito?”

I sighed dramatically. “Fine. But I’m texting the manager to get some damn strawberries for next week.”

Some people have no idea.

Vladymir and his testosterone were gone when I returned to my seat, passionfruit mojito in hand. “I’m surprised that guy doesn’t impregnate women and men just by standing within a five-metre radius. Can’t believe you haven’t tapped that. Let him pillage you, for god’s sake.”

Laurel’s lips trembled. “He heard you.”

I regretted nothing.

My phone buzzed again.

Tell me. You’re turned on

 

 

Blood heated my cheeks. Ugh, awkward much? I couldn’t help it. Waking up next to Kyros each day was hell on my libido. With our laughable control around each other, we had to be so careful of toeing the line.

If I was a rabbit, the world was dangling a carrot just out of reach. Except that carrot was the best sex of my life.

 

Thinking about naked you…

 

 

Send.

Probably shouldn’t have done that.

“I have dabbled with the idea for a few decades, but sexual compatibility is the most important factor in our relationships,” Laurel was saying.

“Try before you buy,” I told her sagely.

She shook her head, smiling. “Is that off Truth Ranges?”

“What? No. That’s advice my grandmother gave me on my eighteenth birthday.”

Laurel threw back her head and laughed.

I slurped on my drink and my eyes widened. “What in the name of the mighty cocktail gods is this?” Where was Josie? Probably didn’t matter. “Josie, this is amazing!”

A thumbs up appeared from the midst of the writhing bodies.

“I may be a convert,” I said in awe.

My phone buzzed, and I choked on my next sip, staring at the GIF from Kyros. A fucking carrot dangling in front of a rabbit.

That was… disturbing on a whole new level. He couldn’t read my mind, so it was just a freaky coincidence.

A really freaky coincidence.

“Thank you for giving this to them,” Laurel said, twisting on her stool.

Shaking off his message, I did the same, watching as Kelsea grabbed the waistband of a vampire who would have looked at home playing the drums for Queen.

If things went to plan, the Indebted could expect more experiences like this. Cruises, private island parties, gambling nights, musicals, and outside cinemas. My life was falling to pieces around me, but their lives had been chaos for decades and centuries. I’d give them as many first experiences—or happy memories—as I could.

“Despite what this turned into,” I said quietly, “you know I intended this night just for their happiness only. There are already more activities in the works.”

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