Page 136 of Death Game: Supernatural Battle

Laurel and the others around us stopped talking.

Maybe Tommy had a point. I had something to prove to so many people that I’d forgotten myfuturepeople—Kyros’s family. Their clan. How could these people ever respect me if they saw me as the consolation prize to the man who’d be the most powerful vampire in existence.

I didn’t want Kyros to be ashamed of me. Never again.

And I wanted to be proud of myself.

I deleted the text and slid my phone away.

“Queen Basilia,” I murmured, testing it out.

Tommy rolled her eyes. “Y S I S.”

“What can I say? That rich shit sticks.”

Facing the movie, I tuned into Kyros’s emotions, settling in for what would be a long night.

23

“Do you have everything, Miss Le Spyre?” Fred asked.

I held up a heavy overnight bag. It was one of ten. The rest were loaded in the boot. “I think so. You’ll pick up my oldies soon?”

He bowed. “Yes, miss.”

“Once you’ve dropped them off, stand by to pick me up,” I told him. “I’m attending an important meeting today and I’d like to leave it in my grandmother’s car. If you’ll drive me.”

Fred was as much a part of this as anyone else.

His sharp eyes glinted and he glanced at my overnight bag with new understanding.

“This is it then?” he asked in a low voice.

I’d told him the truth about Laurel and the others—and that they worked for me now—but his distrust would take a while to fade. If ever. He was too loyal to forgive anyone with fangs.

“In my way, yes, this is it,” I replied, gripping his shoulder. “Thank you, Fred.”

“Miss Le Spyre, if you prefer, I can see Don to escort your grandmother’s friends while I accompany you.”

Tempting. Vissimo recognised that my butler wasn’t like other humans. But if two thousand vampires couldn’t protect me, he certainly couldn’t.

I smiled at him. “That means a lot, thank you. But not this time. I’ll text you the address.”

“As you say, Miss Le Spyre.” He bowed again.

I clambered into the SUV next to Tommy, and Kelsea slid in after me.

“To the airport, please, Laurel,” I instructed.

Surprisingly, exhaustion finally claimed me last night. I didn’t feel refreshed, but some energy had returned to me. Tommy’s work on my hair and make-up covered the other signs of my drained body.

I was dressed in black heels, a tight pencil skirt that highlighted my figure from waist to half-calf. I wore a white scoop-neck top with tight sleeves to my elbows. Demure, sophisticated. There for business.

My hair was back in a chignon, my make-up flawless from sooty lashes to ruby lips.

I looked the part.

I didn’t feel the part.

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