Blood Trial Supernatural Battle (Vampire Towers #1) - Kelly St. Clare Page 0,129

in the hospital. He might not make it.

The Vissimo real estate agent said that if I didn’t back away from securing that house, he’d hurt people I cared about. I hunched forward. They could have hurt Tommy. Or my grandmother. Her chest could be caved in now.

“It’s not your fault,” Fernando said after sharing a look with Laurel.

She nodded. “He’s right.”

I didn’t argue. I knew differently. My actions that night were entirely selfish. I’d acted like a rebelling twenty-one-year-old. Acting that way with what I knew—and who knew of me—bordered on insanity. I would’ve never behaved that way if it meant danger to Tommy or my grandmother.

Rhys might pay with his life because I’d shoved aside danger for one night of normalcy.

Ignoring the churning in my gut, I straightened. “I need to go to the hospital.”

Silence met my words.

“… The hospital is on your blacklist,” Laurel replied.

“It’s what?”

“Kyros—”

Fury rocketed through me with a strength I’d never felt. I held up a hand. “Say no more. I’m going.”

Laurel’s cloak descended. “I’d be duty-bound to stop you. We both would.”

“Then how much to take me there?” I snapped at her. “You’re mercenaries, right?”

Their faces hardened and neither answered.

I scrubbed my face with both hands. “That was uncalled for and insensitive to your situation. I apologise sincerely.”

Laurel unlocked.

Fernando didn’t.

“Can I borrow a phone?” I added. “I’m going to yell at Kyros if that’s any reparation for what I just said.”

Fernando passed his phone over immediately.

You clearly don’t like Kyros.

His phone wasn’t all that much better than Beast.

“You got Snake on this thing?” I asked him. When he dipped his head, I asked, “High score?”

His dark-brown hair was cropped short. He was decked out in black leather like Laurel but seemed younger. Maybe more hopeful.

“Two thousand five hundred,” he said, grinning.

My jaw dropped. “You’re fucking with me?” Mine was two hundred and thirty.

Fernando lifted a shoulder. Like that high score was nothing. I was in the presence of a king.

“Mad respect,” I told him. “Do you have Kyros’s number?”

He took the phone back and pulled up the info. With a look at Laurel, he passed the phone back.

I snorted. Kyros was listed under D-bag. “Don’t worry, I won’t say a word. It’d bounce off his ego anyway.”

“I overheard talk that you spent the night in his private quarters,” the male Indebted blurted.

I eyed him, opening the door. “Yet you handed over your phone. So I won’t justify your question with a reply. You know things aren’t what they seem.”

Laurel whacked him on the shoulder, and he yelped.

Taking the conversation with Kyros outside the car was stupid, really. Like they wouldn’t hear everything anyway. But the distance made me feel better.

I checked the time—5:00 p.m.—Kyros would be awake.

Pressing the dial button, I gritted my teeth.

“What’s wrong?” he snarled over background murmuring.

Did his phone even ring before he answered? If that was how he greeted the Indebted, no wonder they had him listed under D-bag.

“Kyros,” I said sweetly.

The background murmurs cut off.

“… Basilia, one moment.”

I placed my free hand on my hip. “No, not Basilia. It’s Miss Tetley.”

“Are you hurt?”

I wouldn’t break the phone. Only because it wasn’t mine. “Why have you banned Laurel and Fernando from taking me to the hospital?”

“Because Clan Fyrlia could be watching the area.”

“Me visiting another male could only dispel their notions that there’s something between us. And how could they attack me in a hospital during the day?”

He didn’t make a peep.

“Of course, you could admit this has nothing to do with them watching me and everything to do with your fucking possessiveness.”

A growl reached me through the phone. “My Indebted have their orders. I will not alter them.”

Rhys was in ICU because of me. Did Kyros understand how fucking sick with worry and guilt I felt? I had to be there right now.

“I’ll be going anyway.” I pulled the phone away from my ear and held it to my mouth, shouting, “Asshole.”

I threw the phone as hard as I could.

It bounced across the ground, and I clapped both hands over my mouth. “Oh shit! That’s not Beast.”

After a hasty glance at Fernando—who definitely hadn’t missed my missile launch—I scuttled through a garden bed to retrieve his phone.

When I climbed into the car, Laurel had her phone glued to her ear.

She cut me a look in the rear-view mirror. “I believe she feels guilty about what happened to the human, sir. Yes. She is not herself. The male is unconscious and unlikely to live long.”

My eyes widened, and Laurel shook

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