Page 138 of Death Game: Supernatural Battle

“Dangerous. Got that, Sherlock.”

I let out a frustrated hiss. “I’ll be fucking pissed if you die.”

Understatement of the century.

She grinned at me, opening the car door. “Love you, Basil.”

Leaving her to bask in her triumph, I paced around the hangar, certain Kyros was watching me like a hawk—I couldn’t sit still in the car for an hour when I should be moving into the plane like everyone else.

Did I have everything? I spent three hours that morning cross-checking the piles of documents for the third time.

Everything was in the bags.

Everything except the document in my back pocket.

“The plane is ready to depart, Basi,” Laurel reported a while later, moving to my side.

I blinked at the grey wall. I’d been staring at it while running over what I wanted to say at the negotiations. The kings would try to unsettle me—just like Julius did last time.

I had to stick to my script.

There was too much to lose.

“Thank you. Please get someone to make excuses for Tommy and me. Tell them, something urgent has come up.”

Fifteen of my Vissimo would go with my staff. The rest of them were called back by Sundulus for the negotiations, so I’d walk into the lion’s den with my crew of seven.

Somehow, that felt right.

I waved at my staff as the plane left the hangar. They were safe for now. My oldies wouldn’t be far behind, though I doubted the destinations were the same.

I breathed a little easier as the plane took off.

Eleven thirty came and went, and I kept an internal eye on Kyros’s emotions, feeling the exact moment his fear began to climb.

“Text him,” I instructed Laurel. “There’s a delay due to air traffic from the public airport. Expected wait is fifteen minutes.”

There was every risk he’d call my bluff, but Kyros was in Grey and the private airport was on the far side of Orange. It would take him twenty minutes to get here at least, and then he wouldn’t have enough time to return for the meeting.

Laurel sent the text and her brows shot up at the reply.

“Making threats, is he?” I smirked.

“Get that fucking plane off the ground now,” she recited. “Nowis in capital letters.”

Shouty.Couldn’t blame him.

But Kyros was on the move too.

“Shit, he’s changing locations,” I whispered, focusing on the drawing sensation pulling me north. “He can’t be coming here.”

Ten tense minutes proved he wasn’t. He’d relocated to a place in Black.

11:50 a.m.

“Time to get in the car and act like we’re moving down the runway.” Kyros’s anger was mounting, along with his desperation.

Laurel messaged him again as we slid into the car with my crew. Jillian sat on Evie’s lap due to Tommy’s presence. His relief upon reading the text was immediate, though it dispersed in a flooding rush, replaced by determination and dread.

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