Page 68 of Death Game: Supernatural Battle

These weren’t narrow-minded people I was talking to. They used emotion as data, but emotion didn’t dictate their decisions. Yet how could a person not hate creatures who’d forced them to live in fear for decades on end?

“I’ve spent a lot of time with them in the last three months,” I continued. “Whether you wish to accept my words or not, their… kind is as varied as our own. Very few are wholly evil. Very few are wholly good. Humans think differently, I grant you. I often struggle with some of their ways. But for the most part, what motivates our race also motivates theirs.”

Sir Olythieu slammed his cane on the table. “Listen to the words coming out of your mouth, child. Are you their servant now? Is that what this is? Have you lured us in to betray us and your own grandmother?”

“Bartley,” Lady Treena gasped.

I held up a hand. “It’s okay, Lady Treena. I am aware of how this looks. That’s why I tend to listen to talk of killing them all or dropping bombs without comment.”

Tilting my chin, I stared across the table at my grandmother’s most trusted friend.

“I will uphold my grandmother’s legacy because I loved her. I believe in what she started. Bluff City is not a game board. The humans within it are not pawns. I say that with absolute conviction.”

The older man relaxed.

I raised my voice. “With that said, don’t make the mistake of thinking you’re speaking to my grandmother when you’re dealing with me. Her ideals are largely my ideals, her power is my power, but her experiences are not my experiences. I will act how I see fit based on the position I hold and the information I am privy to.”

I stared at each of them in turn. “If you can’t accept that my opinion of them is different to your own, that’s fine. Though I respect each of you, I don’t need your approval. I loved my grandmother. I risk my life every day forher. I’ve killed twice to avengeherdeath. Her approval is all I’m after, and don’t you fucking dare insinuate that I won’t do what needs to be done.”

Gathering up the few files and my phone, I strode to the door and glanced back. “Call me child again, Sir Olythieu, and see what happens.”

13

Something was buzzing.

I whacked Kyros. “Bumblebee.”

“It’syourbumblebee,” he grumbled, rolling over me.

The buzzing stopped, and I relaxed.

“What?” he snapped. “You woke her up.”

An irritating whining replied.

“Mosquito.” I decided, nuzzling under the blankets.

Kyros snorted. “She thinks you sound like a mosquito.”

I cracked an eyelid open. “Whosit?”

“Frannie.”

Frannie was too innocent a name for that demon. “Make beeping sounds and hang up.”

Kyros was straddling me, chest bare, firm muscles on display.Holy shit.Not a bad way to wake up.

“Oh, the fashion show,” he murmured, grimacing my way.

I shot up, glancing at the alarm clock.

The vampire pushed me back down. “She’ll be there in thirty.”

“She better make it twenty.”

Kyros disconnected, and I tried to sit again. He gently shoved me back down.

“I’ve got to shower,” I said, batting at his hands.

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