Page 44 of Dark Rebel’s Reckoning (The Children Of The Gods #93)

44

KYRA

T he doorbell rang at precisely four o'clock, jolting Kyra from thinking about the kiss she'd shared with Max earlier on the terrace.

She didn't remember being a teenager, but given the household she'd been raised in, her first kiss must have been in college, and it had probably been with Boris who had later become her husband. That meant that she had only been with one man voluntarily.

"That must be Bridget." Jasmine pushed to her feet, leaving her newly discovered cousins huddled on the couch.

She opened the door to a tiny redhead in high heels and a curve-hugging dress. The only indicators of her profession were her determined stride and confident gaze.

Perhaps she was going out on a date once she completed her examinations, or maybe she had chosen not to exhibit any outer signs of her profession because she'd heard what the girls had been through at the hands of the fake doctor.

If so, it was a smart move, but the four-inch shoes were still a bit excessive.

Jasmine embraced her like an old friend, towering over the petite woman even though she was barefoot. "Thanks for coming."

"Of course." Bridget's gaze swept over the room, taking in its occupants with a healer's assessing eye. "Hello everyone. I'm Bridget." Her gaze landed on Kyra and she smiled. "You must be Kyra. You look so much like Jasmine that I would have known the two of you were related no matter where I met you."

Kyra stood up and took the doctor's outstretched hand. "Thank you for coming." She gave her a gentle shake, modulating her strength out of habit before remembering that the doctor was an immortal and not nearly as fragile as her tiny frame suggested. "I know that it usually would have been Julian's job to do the testing, but my nieces will be so much more comfortable with a female doctor."

"Of course." Bridget's gaze shifted to the girls.

Four pairs of wary eyes looked back at her, their expressions ranging from Arezoo's carefully neutral mask to Laleh's barely concealed fear.

None of them spoke even though they had their translating earpieces on.

Kyra hoped the doctor had them too, but it was impossible to see her ears under the mass of her red hair. It was enviably gorgeous, and Kyra subconsciously smoothed a hand over her unruly waves which she never bothered to style.

Perhaps after she was done being a rebel, she could devote more time to her appearance. It would be nice to focus on such trivialities for a change instead of survival.

Bridget seemed unfazed by their silence. "I originally planned on conducting the tests here, but we will be so much more comfortable in the clinic in the underground complex. I brought Gertrude with me, and she's setting everything up." She smiled at the girls, who were sitting on the couch in sweatpants and hoodies, and socks on their feet. "No need to change, but I suggest you put shoes on."

"Why can't we do this here?" Arezoo's voice was sharp with sudden alarm, reflecting how the other three felt about leaving the penthouse.

Kyra should have anticipated this reaction. Of course, they wouldn't want to leave their newfound sanctuary, especially not to go to another medical facility, no matter how nice the doctor who ran it was.

"The clinic is much better equipped than what's available to me in a portable kit, which means we can be done faster."

Donya shook her head, shrinking back into the couch cushions. "I don't want to go anywhere."

Laleh nodded, clinging to her older sister.

Kyra approached them and crouched down to be at eye level with the seated girls. "I understand why you're hesitant, but this is important, and the clinic is only a short elevator ride away."

The girls exchanged glances, that silent communication that sisters seemed to master from an early age, but none of them indicated that they were ready to go. It was like they were bound to the couch by some magic spell.

It suddenly occurred to Kyra that it wasn't just the clinic they feared—it was leaving this safe space, this sanctuary, to go anywhere. After what they'd endured, the idea of venturing into unknown territory, even within the same building, triggered their survival instincts.

These girls needed psychological help that Kyra wasn't equipped to provide. She was a rebel fighter, not a counselor. She knew how to protect people from physical threats, but the invisible wounds of trauma were beyond her expertise.

Still, she had to convince them somehow that it was okay. They were wasting Bridget's valuable time.

"I know you're scared," she said, steadying her voice. "But I promise you, there is nothing to fear in the underground levels of this building. They're even more secure than this penthouse. No one outside even knows the underground complex exists, let alone how to get there. Only the people who rescued you and want to help you have access to it."

"I'll come with you," Jasmine offered. "I will be the hand holder. If you want, I can stay with each of you while the doctor examines you."

"It needs to be done." Fenella rose from the armchair she'd commandeered. "Let's just get on with it."

"It needs to be done." Arezoo echoed Fenella's words and then turned to her sisters and cousin. "It's going to be okay, and we will all be together."

The journey to the elevator felt like preparing for a military operation. Jasmine and Bridget led the procession, while the girls moved in a tight cluster, flanked by Fenella and Kyra like protective sentries.

As the elevator doors closed, Kyra noted how Laleh pressed herself into the corner, as far from the doors as possible, while Donya's knuckles turned white from gripping the railing. Azadeh kept her eyes fixed on the floor numbers as they descended, as if counting down to an inevitable confrontation.

When the doors finally opened to the clinic level, Kyra stepped out first, silently signaling that it was safe. The corridor before them was surprisingly wide and well lit, with soft off-white walls adorned with small paintings of landscapes that looked incredibly vivid.

These weren't the reproductions she'd seen on the dungeon level.

"Except for the nice pictures, this looks like the hallway in my old high school building," Arezoo commented.

Kyra glanced at her, wondering if the girl was merely saying this to ease the other girls' fears. Whether it was true or not, the observation seemed to help, as the others focused on examining the beautiful pictures they were passing instead of on the examination waiting for them.

The clinic itself was not what Kyra had expected. Instead of cold sterility, it was small and smelled fresh, but not of disinfectant, which would have been triggering for her and everyone who had been imprisoned by the fake doctor.

The nurse who'd checked them for trackers when they had landed greeted them with a warm smile. "You all look so much better already." She motioned to a row of chairs. "Please, take a seat."

There were only six chairs, so Kyra remained standing because she'd volunteered to go first.

"Through here." Bridget opened one of the doors.

"Can we all come in?" Fenella asked.

"It's a bit small for everyone to crowd in, but I'll leave the door open to the waiting room. That way, you can all hear what I'm doing."

"I'll lock the door." Gertrude walked over to the entry door to the clinic. "In case one of the Guardians walks in, we don't want to be on full display, right, ladies?" She offered them a bright smile.

The girls nodded, smiling in return as if compelled by her cheerful attitude.

Gertrude was good at this, and as Kyra followed her into the exam room, she wondered if the nurse had children.

It was more of a patient room, with a proper hospital bed with railings that made her more comfortable for some reason. A padded table would have evoked unpleasant memories.

The nurse left the door partially open, as promised, which gave her some privacy but still allowed the girls to hear what was going on and even peek inside if they wanted to.

"Before you sit on the bed, I need a urine sample first," Gertrude said, handing Kyra a small plastic cup and a folded hospital gown. "You can change in the bathroom."

"Do I need to take everything off?" Kyra asked.

"You can leave your underwear on for now."

The process was simple and oddly familiar, even if Kyra couldn't remember the last time she'd had a proper medical examination. The rebel camps had medics, but their resources were limited to treating injuries and common illnesses. Comprehensive check-ups were a luxury of a different life, one she couldn't remember, and yet she went through the motions of providing the sample as if she had done it a hundred times before.

When she returned from the bathroom wearing the gown, socks, and panties, Gertrude motioned to the bed. "I need to draw some blood," she said while preparing a tray with several vials and a needle. "Do you prefer sitting up or lying down for it?"

"Sitting up."

"Awesome," Gertrude said.

"That's a lot of blood you are preparing to take," Kyra observed as the nurse lined up the vials.

"We're testing for a variety of things," Bridget said, entering the room. "Hormones, general health markers, genetic markers, and a few specific tests to determine what drugs might still be in your system."

Kyra nodded, rolling up her sleeve and extending her arm. Gertrude tied the tourniquet around her upper arm. "Just a small pinch," she warned before inserting the needle with practiced precision.

Kyra didn't even flinch, watching with clinical detachment as Gertrude filled vial after vial with her blood.

"All done," the nurse said once all the vials were filled, pressing a cotton ball to the puncture site.

Bridget pushed the door nearly closed, leaving just enough of a gap that the girls could hear their voices but not see inside. "Privacy is important, even in these circumstances."

The physical examination was efficient and thorough but still gentle and respectful, and Bridget narrated everything she was doing for the benefit of the listening girls.

"Everything looks good," Bridget said as she made notes on a tablet. "If the bloodwork is just as good, you have nothing to worry about. Your immortal body healed everything." She hesitated, which made Kyra tense. "I know that you are concerned about pregnancy, but I didn't feel or smell anything that might indicate that, and I'm pretty good at detecting pregnancy even in the very early stages. The blood test is the most definitive way to be certain, especially this soon after potential conception. But given what we know about immortal fertility, the chances are next to zero."

Relief flooded through Kyra, though she hadn't realized until that moment how much the possibility of pregnancy had been weighing down on her. "Thank you."

"You can get dressed now," Bridget said. "Let's see who wants to be next."

Together, they walked into the waiting area, where the girls were waiting with Jasmine and Fenella. They still looked nervous, but not as nervous as when they had entered the clinic.

"Everything is fine," Kyra announced.

Arezoo rose to her feet. "Did anything hurt?"

"The examination was quick and painless." Kyra sat down on the chair Arezoo had vacated, which was next to Laleh. "Dr. Bridget and Gertrude were very professional and explained everything they were doing. There's nothing to be afraid of."

"Who's next?" Bridget asked gently.

"I'll go," Arezoo said, her voice sounding steadier than her expression indicated.

She looked scared.

"Are you telling the truth about it?" Laleh asked once Arezoo was out of earshot. "I heard you and the nurse talking about lots of blood being taken."

Kyra took the girl's hand, noting how cold her fingers felt despite the comfortable temperature in the clinic. "The needle pinches a little when they take blood," she said honestly. "But it's over very quickly. Everything else is just like a regular check-up." She wrapped her arm around the girl's shoulders and kissed the top of her head.

This was what family felt like. Not just blood ties, but the fierce protectiveness she felt, the desire to shield and guide and heal. She had spent decades fighting for strangers, for principles, for freedom. But this—this bone-deep need to ensure these girls' safety and happiness—this was something altogether different.

She cast a glance at Jasmine, her daughter who was a grown woman and an immortal and did not need her protection anymore. But she needed her love, and Kyra vowed to shower her with buckets of it whether she liked it or not.