Life Blood: Cora's Choice Book 1

"Ms. Shaw?"

I pushed aside my exhaustion and looked up. There, at the curb, stood a man in an old-fashioned chauffeur's uniform, complete with hat and gloves. The car he stood next to was an understated silver color, but the elegant shape screamed money. A Bentley, I realized as I recognized the symbol on the trunk.

Oh, really?

"I'm Cora Shaw," I said cautiously.

The driver opened the rear passenger door. "Please, enter."

I gaped at him for several seconds. I mean, a Bentley? I didn't know what I had expected, but it wasn't this. Maybe a yellow cab. The man on the phone had told me that they would send a car. And here it was. But that didn't make it seem any less bizarre. It was, I decided, more than a little creepy.

"How do I know you're not trying to kidnap me?" I demanded, crossing my arms across my chest.

"I must admit, Ms. Shaw, that this is often a fear of our patients," the chauffeur said evenly.

I waited for him to continue with his reassurances, but he simply stood, waiting impassively.

I shifted against the cold column. I could see the soft interior from here, and my whole body clamored for a chance to settle into the warm comfort it offered.

What if he was a kidnapper? I wondered. What was the worst that could happen? Well, I could get brutally mutilated and murdered, I supposed. Torture would be bad, but my death was coming pretty soon, anyway.

On the other hand, the best that could happen was, of course, a cure. I barely let myself think that for the tiniest instant before shutting it away. I'd already had my hopes dashed today. I didn't need to create new ones only to have them destroyed, too.

I looked at the car and its driver again. He didn't seem like a serial killer. And as weird as this all was, the number I'd called had come from my doctor.

Still....

Oh, to hell with it. I sent a quick text to Lisette: The last # I called was 202-324-6475 n they sent driver to hospital to pick me up. Will txt or call in 2 hrs.

Then I turned off the ringer and alerts even as Lisette's first text arrived, shoved the phone in my pocket, took a deep breath, and got into the car.

The chauffeur closed the door as I struggled out of my jacket. The interior was all fawn leather and burled wood, with two wide seats contoured into the back bench. A dark screen was mounted into the headrest in front of me. I shoved my coat down at my feet and sat back, and the warmth of the heated seat crept into my aching bones as it cradled my body. I hadn't realized how much I hurt until it was soothed away.