The Glass Prince by Sandra Bard Page B

Eren in the face with a full tab, and
instantly, Eren slumped back into the seat, eyes glazed. Daniel
cursed as he took the turn with burning rubber. He almost drove up
the pavement before he got control of the car and looked around for
a place to park.
    He
managed to drive slowly
for a couple of feet along the pavement before he realised he was
at the entrance of CinemaCity, at the no-parking zone, and his
white car was starting to draw attention. He was glad he had tinted
windows.
    Daniel
swore as he drove off in the direction of the
hospital . He hadn't
meant to hit Eren. He didn't want anything to happen to him. He
slowed for a red light and Eren groaned, shaking his
head.
    Not
dead, but he had a nosebleed . And—when Eren leaned forward and threw up violently in
the car—probably a concussion. Had Daniel hit him that hard? He
couldn't remember, but relief when Eren opened his eyes made his
body sag and he drove automatically as the lights changed colour.
Eren acted more alive, there was strength in his movements. If he
were to take Eren to the hospital, people would know.
    Lucian
would know, his parents would know , and if there was a police report, Daniel's
probation would be over and he might even be thrown in jail for a
couple of days. It wouldn't do. Daniel didn't think he could
survive in prison, nor the prison could survive him. He drove past
the hospital, head down. He would come back if Eren was seriously
sick. For now, the calming spray seemed to be holding. Then again,
Daniel might have given Eren a rather high dose. Daniel had built
up immunity for calming potions, as he'd been using it since he was
a child.
    The
interior of the car stank of blood and vomit , but he didn't dare lower the windows,
not wanting anyone to see them. He drove carefully, under the speed
limit and finally came to a stop—in his parking garage. He'd been
concentrating on Eren so much that he'd driven on instinct back
home.
    He
looked at Eren and
sighed. He would take Eren to his flat and help him clean up. Then
he'd offer Eren a change of clothes and—and some monetary
compensation for what Daniel had done, so Eren wouldn't go to the
police or worse yet, to a celebrity rag.
    It would
have to do .
    Daniel
opened the door and walked out, grateful he didn 't share his garage with anyone. He helped
the still-groggy Eren out of the car and half-carried him to the
personal elevator that connected to Daniel's penthouse.
    " You're rather
heavy," Daniel commented to the deadweight in his hands. "I do
apologise for hitting you, I didn't mean to do that. I was just—my
magic gets out of control when I'm angry. I had no intention of
injuring you."
    " Uh," Eren
groaned, his head rolling around his neck. "I think I'm going to be
sick."
    " Please don't,"
Daniel said. "I have to clean my car as it is." How was he to have
someone clean his car without explaining away the blood and the
vomit—damn, he might have to get rid of the car and it was one of
his favourites. "I have no idea how to clean the elevator as
well."
    " You hit me."
Eren sounded groggy.
    " I didn't mean
to," Daniel assured him. "Let me see how bad it is and offer you
some—" was it acceptable to offer someone with a concussion food?
He knew he should have taken Eren to a hospital when Eren didn't
reply.
    Eren groaned
again and flopped against Daniel, warm and pliant. Daniel froze.
The body next to his was real, not some magical construct or a
blow-up pillow. It was a real person and he was holding him. He
felt warm and… and strange. Daniel felt an unfamiliar emotion, one
he couldn't have named even if he'd tried. His heart beat increased
and he could feel shards of glass emerge from his body, which was
his way of sweating when he was feeling really out of sorts. His
throat closed up and his chest felt as if it was caving in. Daniel
touched his chest with his free hand. Strong feelings had nothing
to do with the appearance of his chest. It felt the same, and he
assumed his glass