Vampire Bachelor Games: An Addictive Enemies to Lovers Vampire Romance: Wed or Dead by Helen Allan

Author:Helen Allan [Allan, Helen]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Hell West Press
Published: 2023-12-30T00:00:00+00:00

44

I raise my champagne flute in a toast to the Canadian, where we sit, side by side, on the two-person timber swing beneath the cherry blossoms, my feet resting on the small, low table before us, groaning with more flowers, alcohol, and snacks.

All in all, fewer contestants died last night than I would have liked, but I can’t say I was disappointed with the overall result. The Spaniard was killed, of course, as Tom and I had planned. Further investigation into her past had revealed a Portuguese great-grandparent whose hereditary link to The Free Men was undeniable. The fact that she was selected to take part in the game was inexcusable.

I’d burst out laughing when Tom told me that the game selectors, once informed, had ‘over-reacted.’ I didn’t bother telling him that a whole new panel of selectors would be in place before the next season of this show. The Families brook no mistakes. I’d be shocked if any of the selectors had lived to leave the meeting venue. Which suits me perfectly, given my suspicions of the selection process. I wouldn’t be surprised if all the crew were also dispensed with after this series. But that wasn’t something I’d shared with him. Probably best not to terrify the director any more than I already have, at least not for the moment. Especially not when I still believe we haven’t addressed the root of the problem; there’s still a selector-sanctioned, Spider-planted contestant within the game.

My guards’ perusal of all the CCTV in the Louvre the night of my stabbing had concluded the gaps here and there in the footage left it wide open for any one of the contestants to have stabbed me. The only one I don’t believe had the means was Angelina, given both her health and my discussions with her afterwards.

“And it was so sad about Juliette,” Mila, the Canadian, touches my knee to regain my attention as she goes on, although what she said before this, I have no idea. “She was so sure you were her Romeo – I guess, you know, due to her name and all.”

“Indeed?” I raise an eyebrow and down the rest of my champagne, gesturing to the sommelier to bring something stronger. I realise as I point to the whisky on the menu, that she’s talking about the Belgian who came last in the challenge last night.

“Oh, yes,” Mila shrugs. “Poor girl. But you know, she didn’t have what it takes. I mean, if she’d tried to eliminate someone AND solve the puzzle, she might not have come last.”

“You didn’t eliminate anyone,” I raise an eyebrow at her, “and yet here you sit.”

I don’t bother adding that it pissed the producers off no-end that not a single contestant, not even my intended, chose to hunt and take out another woman. Instead, every one of them went straight for the puzzle, assuming someone else would waste time hunting, and fail. It was an interesting gamble, and one of the few times in the Game’s history that this had happened.

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