The black car sped through the estate gates and came to a sudden, screeching halt right in front of the main entrance.
Salvatore stepped out of the vehicle first, his boots thudding heavily against the gravel. He kept Milo wrapped tightly in the damp towel, holding the trembling young man securely against his chest.
Milo's breathing was shallow and uneven, his skin was icy cold to the touch, but his face was burning hot.
Dr. Andrew was already waiting in the driveway, just as the guard had instructed. He looked worried, as though the guard had rushed him over.
He took one look at Milo's blotchy, blood-streaked face and the raw scratches covering his neck and jaw, and his professional composure kicked in immediately.
"Take him straight to his room, Salvatore," Dr. Andrew said, moving quickly to open the mansion's double doors, like he was the owner of the house. "What the hell happened to him?"
