Page 32 of Death Game: Supernatural Battle

“It does if they feel they’re about to win,” he said quietly. “Our efforts to stall the Ringly development are proving ineffective. If our forecasters are right, we have a matter of weeks to turn this around.”

Shock found me. Then anger. Kyros had grossly underplayed how dire things were. He’d slipped in aworst-case scenariocomment off the cuff and then used the listening Indebted as an excuse.

I mean, of course I’d known Fyrlia would swing the game as soon as possible with the information I’d imparted. “So what’s the game plan?”

Ilion sighed. “Kyros is investigating the legitimacy of the council documents surrounding approval of Mr Ringly’s DA. We already ran through the documents, but the royal family is certain something there is amiss. Other than that, Prince Rory has approved a doubled budget across the board.”

Ilion and the other seconds had no idea about the bluff. I wasn’t sure if I should be bothered that Kyros and I had the same thought to investigate the DA.

Danielle and Conrad joined us, and we settled into a more in-depth discussion of how the game board was stacked. By the time the Vissimo around me filtered upstairs in preparation of the roll, I was exhausted and my real shift hadn’t begun.

“Thank you,” I told them wearily. “That helps a lot.”

Conrad rested a hand on my shoulder. “We’ll figure it out, Miss Le Spyre.”

Considering he wasn’t a big fan of mine, I appreciated the reassurance.

We entered the lift, a group of minions scrambling out when Ilion growled.

Just as the doors began to close, Angelica slipped in.

She smiled at me.

Fuck.“Whatever shit news you’re delivering, get it over with,” I told her flatly.

Her smile widened, and she held out the dark-green envelope in her hand. There was a gold wax seal on it.

FA.

Fuck All. Or Francesca Atagio.

Maybe both.

“Do I want to open this?” I muttered.

“Probably not.”

Snorting, I slipped my finger under the seal and pried it apart, sliding out the thick paper.

It contained the details of the fashion show. Next Sunday, nine days away.

Ugh.

Danielle took the invitation when I held it out.

“Kyros’s siblings are going to kill me one day,” I told them.

“If they didn’t accept you, they wouldn’t bother,” Danielle replied, her lips twitching.

Francesca would dress me in the ugliest creation in existence. The papers would have a field day that Basilia Le Spyre was dressed in rags.

Had to respect her effort though.

“Francesca’s may be the best one,” I admitted.

“I liked Lionel’s,” Conrad said. “Even if Kyros painted the billboards over two hours later.”

Yeah. In terms of enjoyment, Lionel’s was my favourite. Or Lalitta’s.

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