The Glass Prince (2 page)

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 heart was still in place.

Daniel
looked at his uncovered hand on
Eren's bicep and realised he had been holding Eren up for a
while. Was this what it felt like to touch someone? It'd been so
long he'd forgotten about it.

They
reached the top floor and Daniel helped
Eren out of the elevator, dragging him with a hand
under his armpit. "It's a couple of steps more," Daniel told him.
The door opened at his command and they were in his sitting room
with the magnificent view of the city spread below them.

"
Welcome to my
living quarters," he told his unappreciative audience. Daniel was
used to it. He spoke to himself when he was alone. There was no one
else to speak to.

"
Let me get you
some… sit on something," He started to say and stopped short,
looking at his room for the first time. The room was white, the way
he preferred it. The sofas were white, the carpeting was white and
the walls, ceiling, light fittings… anything and everything was
white. It blended with Daniel perfectly, but Eren, all robust and
dark-coloured, stood out like a stain on the carpet. In fact,
Daniel could already see dirt marks on the carpet and if he were to
put Eren on the sofa, he'd probably leave blood stains.

"
What…?" Eren
swayed dangerously.

"
You're going to
bleed on my furniture and rub vomit on it," said Daniel as he held
Eren close to him. He liked the feeling of holding someone without
his magic going wild.

Eren
's eyes
fluttered open and he looked around for the first time, wincing as
he did. "It's too bright," he mumbled. "My head hurts."

"
Close your
eyes," Daniel sighed. The lights were off, and the only
illumination was the last of the sunlight through the high windows.
He would have to walk to the remote to close the blinds, and he
would have to let go of Eren or drag him along, because his magic
didn't work on anything other than glass.

"
Jacket… off,"
Eren mumbled.

"
What?"

"
My jacket's
got… stuff, if I take it off… I don't want to make your white
furniture dirty."

Oh,
thought
Daniel as he helped Eren off his jacket. It fell onto the carpet.
There was vomit on Eren's trousers as well, so Daniel undid the
belt with one hand and the loose denim fell to the floor. Eren wore
a pair of brown boxer shorts underneath: rather boring. Daniel
helped Eren to the sofa and let him sag onto it.

Daniel
knelt in front of
Eren
and proceeded to remove his shoes—he would have to burn his gloves
afterwards—and then his socks. Then Daniel picked up all the
offending items of clothing and walked to the disposal chute in the
corner and pushed everything in. He removed his gloves and tossed
them in as well.

He
looked down at himself and scowled
. His overcoat and trousers had splatters of
partially-digested food on them. He wrinkled his nose, wondering
why he hadn't realised it before as he took off his clothes and
disposed of them as well. Then he strolled to the windows, picked
up the remote, and closed the shades.

As the
room dimmed, Daniel stood in his sitting room dressed in his white
shirt and his undershorts, looking down a
t the figure on his sofa. Eren seemed to have
fallen asleep, his mouth open, breathing deeply. His nose no longer
bled, though it was still discoloured.

"
You're going to
have a black eye or two," Daniel told him, though he knew Eren
didn't hear him.

"
Shall I make us
dinner?" he asked as he walked to the kitchen. "I know it'll
surprise you to hear, but I can cook. I do run a restaurant, you
know."

No
reply
, but Daniel felt
pleased. He was speaking to someone other than himself. He liked
it: the room, though dark, felt less oppressive and less lonely. He
smiled.

"
Hey, Eren," he
said as an inspiration struck him. "Stay the night. I'll have you
over to your mother's in the morning. There's only one bedroom, but
you can take the sofa—" which was rude considering Eren was a
guest. "Or you can take the bedroom, and I'll take the
sofa."

He
laughed at the absurdity of the suggestion
. As if Eren would want to stay with him after
what had happened. Daniel reached for the phone. It was time he got
his act together. He'd call his doctor and ask him to come over.
The Tower doctor was discreet, and he regularly dealt with
celebrities who dined at Alaskan Tower. Once the doctor had looked
over Eren, Daniel would drop Eren off at his house with an apology
and enough money to make them forget.

Then
he
'd never see Eren
again.

But even
as he did, the idea of having
Eren over with him stayed in his mind. It was the first
time anyone other than Lucian had come up to the penthouse and he
could touch Eren, unlike Lucian, whose magic reacted badly to
Daniel's magic. Just one night, his mind whispered.

Daniel
rolled his eyes and picked up the land phone when he heard
the
shrill ring tone of
another phone: some overly-cheerful pop song that had his ears
retreating. He looked around confusedly and—there, a white phone
against the white carpet, easy to overlook. He walked over and
picked it up: it was Eren's phone, the one Daniel had gifted to
him. It must have fallen out when the jacket fell to the floor. He
picked it up and looked at the screen.

BFF,
said the
caller ID. Who? What?

He
waited until the phone stopped ringing, feeling a little
relieved
. Then the phone
vibrated in his hand again, this time two short bursts. Confused,
Daniel looked at it and frowned. A text message. This, he could
read. He opened it and frowned.

"
Whre r u? e
movie abt to strt."

Annabelle
, the
girlfriend waiting for him at the CinemaCity. Daniel thumbed a
reply.

"
This is a
friend, Eren's going to be little late." Then he frowned. What if
Annabelle found out about the incident? She seemed like an
assertive girl, and she would most likely suggest Eren go to the
police or reporters. She could make Daniel's life hell.

He
erased the message and tried again
. "Mom not feeling well, I can't make it." There,
that was better, but again Daniel frowned. He knew Annabelle was a
family friend of Eren's. What if she decided to rush over to their
home? No, that wouldn't do.

"
Can't make it,
go on without me. I'll call you later and tell you all." It seemed
too grammatically correct compared to the badly-written text he'd
just read, but Daniel hoped it would do. He sent it, and then for
good measure, switched off the phone, took out the sim, and tossed
it aside where it fell onto a small seat and slid between the
cushions. He'd fish it out later and throw it out for
good.

That
done, he turned
back to
Eren.

Daniel
suddenly smiled
.
Annabelle didn't know where Eren was, Eren's mother didn't know
where he was. Daniel had a couple of hours at least before anyone
looked for Eren. Enough time for dinner and… and a movie,
perhaps.

An
idea grew in
his mind. Keep Eren with him for a while, perhaps a day or two. He
would definitely keep Eren for the night. He was still unconscious,
so better to let him rest, and then breakfast and let him go.
Perhaps, lunch.

Nothing
big
. When Eren came to
out of his drug-induced stupor, Daniel would convince him, and he
was sure Eren could be persuaded with the right incentive. As for
the doctor… Daniel dismissed the thought of calling him. There
didn't seem to be any ill effects: Eren was breathing normally, the
blood had stopped, and he wasn't even throwing up
anymore.

Daniel
walked to his bedroom and pulled out his laptop
. As a mage, he had very little use for
electronics and Lucian always told him his laptop was hopelessly
outdated, but he did know how to use it. The entire building had
Wi-Fi since most of his customers demanded it, but Daniel rarely
used it. If there was anything worth knowing, he had people to keep
him informed. He booted it on.

Perhaps
Lucian was right—it was high time he threw away his laptop and got
a new one
. Daniel didn't
know much about it, but it took ages to start. While that happened,
he watched over Eren, who was slumped in the uncomfortable position
with his mouth open.

That can
't be fun
,
thought Daniel as he moved forward and picked him up. He carried
Eren to his bedroom and placed him on the bed. His bed was a double
king: absurdly large, and Eren looked lost in it. Daniel frowned as
he walked out and looked around, and sat in front of the laptop,
which was finally showing all the desktop icons.

He typed
in
'what to do if
someone has concussion'. He'd read somewhere that people with head
injuries sometimes vomited. The search page gave him several
options including how to identify when someone had a concussion.
That had to be useful!