She glanced at me. “More?”
“Oh, yeah.” I grinned into my passionfruit elixir.
The vampire sighed, crossing her long legs. “You aren’t entirely to blame for how events unfolded. You were right with one of the observations made in your office.”
The part about Kyros going berserk if I died? “You did gloss over the consequences.”
“You don’t know who I was, do you?” she asked. “Before I was Indebted.”
I pulled a face. “Does it matter?”
She studied me for a long time. “Not usually. Not for a long time. In this instance, it explains the glossing. My mother and father were mates. Not true mates, but when they met, mating was still the mode, so they completed all seven exchanges, and even received two mating gifts.”
“I’ve never heard of anyone else being mated,” I told her.
“Mostly only the very old or the poor do so now.” The vampire swallowed.
“Your mother was killed and your father went berserk?”
She cast me a surprised look. “Correct. He was a king—alpha—and old, so very powerful. His control couldn’t hold after her murder. It took three other kings to kill him. And I inherited his debt. The rest you know.”
Laurel was a princess. Or had been.
Her life was changed forever because her father lost control. Then I’d walked into Fyrlia territory and nearly triggered the same mindless rage in Kyros.
I rubbed my forehead. “Whenever I think I’ve grasped the depth of Kyros’s struggle to control his power, the reality hits me all over again.”
Maybe I really should apologise for putting Kyros in that position. And Safina. And his whole damn family.
“I need to apologise again for placing you guys in that situation,” I told her, lifting my gaze to hers. “It must have opened old wounds.”
The vampire nodded, her black hair slithering forward. “Yes. It also highlighted my weakness in letting painful memories dictate me in small ways after so long. I should have told you.”
I doubted a person could ever get over such a tragic end to their family. “Do you miss your parents, Loz?”
She shot me a look. “I do. They loved each other. Their people loved them.”
Tilting my head to the dancing Indebted, I said, “Much like your people love you.”
Blood welled in her eyes and she blinked rapidly.
“I hope the sick fuck who killed your mother got their reckoning,” I added.
“King Julius let me kill them.”
He had a heart in there somewhere, I knew it. He showed it half as regularly as Christmas, but it was in there.
Still didn’t like him.
Laurel leaned in as I slurped back some more tart, sweet, alcohol goodness.
“You understand Kyros’s power better now. Maybe you understand why some didn’t wish for your union though your combined blood sings. Kyros already rivals some kings for power now with another seventy years until he is fully matured. His power was even evident in the womb, I’ve been told.”
I set down my drink, reading her glimmering expression.
That’s why Mikael was fighting for him? Not because he’d wanted the son of his union with Queen Titania, but because Kyros’s power could be felt before he was born?
Cold, cold bastard.
He wanted to use Kyros.
“He’s going to be really powerful one day, isn’t he?” I asked after an explosion of laughter from the dance floor.
In seventy years, he’d reach maturity. I’d be ninety-two. Surviving that long was something I hoped for while knowing I’d be dead at seventy-five like a good little statistic. The only way to be with Kyros when he matured was to become a Vissimo. If I died, he’d go berserk and be killed too. Yet seeing as my various sources of guilt wouldn’t let me consider our relationship as anything long term, turning into a vampire was still something I refused to contemplate.
Laurel regarded me through hard blue eyes. “One day, he’ll rule all Vissimo, Basi.”
I jerked, frowning at her. Was she serious?
She continued, “He’ll rule us. Or he’ll destroy us. And which path he takes is entirely up to you.”
9
“You’re kidding. Eight percent?” I stared at the screen which currently showed my Churchill team on the other side of the video call.
A woman in the middle flipped through a file. She stood, addressing me. “Yes, ma’am. Last week saw an increase of 8 percent in house acquisition. A 2 percent rise in rentals and leases.”
Well, shit.
“I take it the new employees are doing well.” My trouble property employees were behind this change. Led by Mrs Hannah.
The CEO cleared his throat. “Correct, Miss Le Spyre. Interestingly, our four newest employees were previously owners of properties from the trouble list. The houses sold last week were all from the trouble list too.”
I smiled despite my fatigue. “Good.”
In coming weeks, I’d hire more of them. But I needed to see how Sundulus reacted to the surge first.
Disconnecting the call, I climbed the stairs to my regular office, and pulled out my phone.
Staring at Tommy’s number, I chewed on my lip, typing.
Please message so I know you’re okay
I hovered my thumb over Send. She was physically okay. Laurel gave me a report every day on Tommy’s status. But was she okay in her heart, in her mind, and in her soul?
Hitting Send, I scrolled through my contacts until I reached the name Get Strawberries. I held the phone to my ear.
“Miss Le Spyre.”
Two rings. Not bad.
“Jordan,” I greeted. “Give me an update.”
I heard frantic rustling. Jordan was young, and managing a nightclub was a massive step up for her. During the three-month trial, she’d sink or swim. I had a feeling she’d swim—and well.
“Publicity after the opening night is insane. Exactly what we were going for. Nobody could hear a peep. They have no idea what was going on inside. I had Quin put up one post across our social media detailing opening hours next Thursday.”
Opening my Instagram that I’d never posted with, but always stalked Truth Ranges celebrities on, I pulled up the post. Black background. A handful of words in the middle.
Forbidden.
“Perfect. What else?”
I listened as she detailed various themes and edges she had planned. I’d already used my influence to pull in renowned DJs from outside Bluff City.
When she finished, I said, “Discuss your ideas with the marketing team and research which will be better received. I’d like a schedule by the end of the week. In addition, approach the four most popular bars in Black. Invite them to participate in a club crawl—with a better name, obviously. The crawl will end at our club at midnight.”
“I’ll get onto that immediately,” Jordan said.
My phone chimed as I ended the call. 1:00 p.m., and so many calls to make and emails to answer. I was mostly caught up, but a queue of CEOs waited for my approval on proposals. The sleepless nights were getting to me.
I glanced at the message.
[MESSAGE NOT SENT. This number is disconnected or no longer in service.]