Blood Trial Supernatural Battle (Vampire Towers #1) - Kelly St. Clare Page 0,132
the hall. “Done already?”
My chest rose and fell as I battled back my reaction. “Can’t stay.” The words were barely audible.
Laurel exited, moving to my side.
“I understand, dear,” the nurse said, reaching out to take my hand. “It’s hard. Something we never expect we’ll have to do.”
I nodded, thankful not to see condemnation in her eyes. “I’ll be back tomorrow.” I really didn’t want to encounter his parents, but hopefully they’d leave at the same time each day.
The nurse’s eyes darkened briefly before she recovered herself. “Of course, dear. We’ll see you then.”
My walk was just shy of a run as I hurried to escape the cloying hospital walls, my chest tightening to panic levels. Fernando joined us as I sped past him in reception. He beeped the car open before I reached it, and I dove headfirst into the back seat.
Hugging my knees up, I bent my forehead to my knees as my mind screamed.
“Back to the tower, Miss Tetley?” Laurel asked softly.
The tower?
No, I couldn’t go back there. Not yet.
Voice muffled by my knees, I said, “Could you just drive for a while?”
“… Sure. Where to?”
To my grandmother. To Tommy.
“Just around. Maybe the estates. It’s nice out there.”
That was as close as I could get to my grandmother or she’d end up like Rhys. The vision of my grandmother’s chest caving in place of Rhys flashed behind my eyelids, forcing bile to my lips.
Tucked in a ball on the seat behind Laurel, I stared out the tinted window as the houses in Black—the second richest suburb—stretched into the sprawling lawns and manicured gardens of the place I’d always called home.
Hedges, three-metre-high fences, and gates. This was what I’d always known. Hundreds of hectares owned by a handful of families—the financial and societal elite of Bluff City.
What a joke. We were the elite of jack shit.
Every one of us was a chess piece, whether compelled or not.
The Le Spyre estate was coming up, and I counted three seconds per inhale and exhale in a bid to regulate my heartbeat. Coming here was pushing the boundaries, so I couldn’t show any sign of recognition; nothing could get back to Kyros.
The sight of the familiar matte-black wrought iron fence nearly undid that determination.
We drove along the fence for several minutes until the main entrance gate came into view.
I could push open the car door. I could sprint to the com and shout for Fred to let me in. God, I could fall into my grandmother’s arms and tell her all about Clint, and Rhys’s condition.
I could let her see my anguish and pain and confusion.
She was just through those gates, five hundred metres down the tree-arched driveway. I could almost feel her strong arms around me.
My vision blurred as we left the main gate behind.
Hope.
Gone in a blink.
I didn’t dare look back, focusing on my breath.
Minutes passed, and Laurel turned around. “It’s getting dark. I’d prefer to be back at the tower for nightfall even though it’s Fyrlia’s turn.”
My heart leaped.
We’d drive back past the estate? I assumed she’d continue all the way out the other side and circle back through Orange to Grey.
Could I handle going past again? It was a stupid question, really. I’d suffer much more for a glimpse of the only home I’d ever known.
Laurel swept back the way we’d come, and we were soon gliding back past the estate.
My eyes widened at the sleek black car exiting the gate. Fred was in the front seat.
My grandmother would be in the back.
“Stop the car!” I said.
Laurel screeched to a halt.
“What is it?” Fernando hissed, twisting in his seat to scan our surroundings.
Shit.
I broke off my stare at the car containing my only family member. She was so close. “Thought I was going to hurl. Seeing Rhys got to me more than I thought.”
Oh my god. Fred was getting out of the car. The family butler always had a friendly smile on his face and it was no different now.
My heart nearly broke at the sight of him.
“Phew, that human is as cold as ice,” Fernando whispered.
My brows crept up and I glanced at the butler again. Nope, couldn’t see any speck of coldness. Just saw his smile.
The windows of our black SUV were tinted, so I huddled into a tight ball and pressed myself against the car door as Fred approached Laurel’s window.
She lowered it.
“Having car trouble?” he asked.
His clipped tones washed over me like a warm memory.
“My companion felt sick,” Laurel replied. “Thank you for your