Blood Trial Supernatural Battle (Vampire Towers #1) - Kelly St. Clare Page 0,3
“The only people who come to my window are drunk you, lonely you, angry you, and idea you.”
“Have all four versions of me ever shown up at the same time?” I asked, a grin spreading across my face.
“One time, I swear there were five. It was a real party.” She surveyed me again and shook her head. “Front door, Basil. Now. You need a shower. Stat. Maybe three. Then I want to know what the hell is going on.”
2
“Basilia Le Spyre, wake yo’ ass up! There’s work to do.”
I jolted to life, bolting upright in a disorientated mess. “Where me?”
Tommy, used to my delirious waking moments, merely cracked a grin at my disjointed question. “You in my house.”
I’d left the estate. Slept on the street. I was in Tommy’s house in Orange.
Sagging, I focused on my breathing until my heartbeat stopped thundering in my ears. “How long did I sleep?”
“All day. If this is how you plan to be poor, you’re doing a terrible job of it. We never get sleep.”
I glared at her.
She bounded onto the bed and sat against the back wall where a bedhead would usually be. Tommy didn’t have one, and I wasn’t sure why that always disconcerted me so much. Was there even a point to bedheads?
“So you’re sure about this?” she asked eventually. “I mean, you’ve hated the rich world for as long as I can remember, but if a fight with your grandmother is the only reason you left, then forgive me for saying that your grandmother and her friends are the best part of that bullshit parade you were born into.”
“It wasn’t. She’s the only reason I stayed so long.” I thought back to our heated conversation. “The argument was silly, really. She was on at me again to start attending functions as the up and coming face of the estate, and I just cracked. Not at her, at the… the constant feeling of being detached and outside of reality. The fight was just the tipping point. Tom, I want to live. I want to help people. Sure, I could mindlessly throw cash around. I could even try to research where that money would have the most effect. But without living this life, how can I ever truly understand what I need to do?” And who I am.
A heavy silence settled in the room.
Tommy broke it by shoving black and white pages onto my lap. I regarded them through bleary eyes. The word eventually came to me. “Newspaper.”
“Well done, grasshopper.”
I shot her another glare. “We get newspapers at the estate.”
“Yeah, yeah. Your butler delivers it on a silver platter. I was looking at the job section for you.”
That caught my attention. “Glasses.”
My bag had toppled onto the brown carpet during my sleep-nap. She scrambled to collect it and I dug around, drawing out my glasses case.
I pushed the thick black-framed specks onto my face and stared at the open newspaper. Three red circles disrupted the page.
“Those are the suitable ones,” Tommy murmured. “I rang my boss at the laundry service, but they aren’t hiring. Probably not until the uni students go back to school in two months.”
My heart sank. Working with Tom would have been the tits.
Let’s see what we’ve got here.
My eyes landed on the first one. “Tomato factory worker.” I turned accusing eyes on her.
“Beggars can’t be choosers.” She reminded me.
True story. “What else have we got?” I shifted my gaze to the next page. “A newspaper run! You’re shitting me?”
She grimaced. “I was iffy on that one. I had a newspaper run when I was thirteen. Fucking sucked.”
“What about the other ones?” There were tons of jobs on the two pages.
“They all require qualifications—that you don’t have. I don’t think business lessons from your grandmother count.”
Dammit. “Someone may want me to manage their billions though.”
Tommy snorted. “We both know you have no trouble with that, but can you manage just a few dollars? I have a feeling they’re different things.”
Maybe. Surely the same principles applied.
With no small amount of trepidation, I squinted at the last circled job. “Huh! Pet shop assistant. That one isn’t so bad.”
Could I be a pet shop assistant? Cuddling kittens and puppies all day? I mean, shovelling poop wasn’t my idea of a good time, but there would be definite perks.
“I’ll take it,” I declared, jabbing at the page with my finger.
Tommy shooed me away. “Not that easy, Basi. You need to make a résumé first and there will be at least one interview.”