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"You know the falls?" he said, not quite meeting my gaze. "The Ninth Circle falls, or whatever? From that tourist brochure in our rooms?"
I blinked. "What about them?"
He jabbed a finger in the direction from which we'd come. "I dreamed," he said, his cheeks slightly pink, "that you were about to walk over them, but that there was nothing below. So that's where I went. And that's where I found you headed." He turned and stalked away from me. "So now who's the crazy one?"
I jogged to catch up, wincing at the tiny pebbles digging into the soles of my feet. "Hey," I said. "Theo."
"What?"
I grabbed his shoulder and spun him to face me. "I don't think you're crazy," I said quietly. "I don't think I am, either."
His eyes were bright with worry. "Oh yeah?" he said. "So what do you think is going on, then?"
"I don't know," I said, "but remember what you said? We'll figure it out, together."
His gaze softened a fraction, and he slipped his hand into mine. His palm was warm, the contact comforting. I gave his hand a squeeze, and he returned it.
"C'mon. Let's get back."
The walk took longer than I expected. I couldn't imagine how I'd wandered so far without realizing it. By the time we made it to the dorm and were trudging up the stairs, we were both yawning practically non-stop.
"Maybe I should stay here," Theo said, looking doubtfully at my bedroom door. "I could sleep on the couch."
"On that?" I indicated the tiny loveseat. "You'd be better off in the backseat of the Renault. I'm fine, Theo. Go back to your room."
"Yeah, but—"
"But nothing.” I took him by the arm and steered him toward the door. "We have to be at work in less than four hours. Go get some sleep."
He scowled. "And if your subconscious decides to go for another nighttime stroll?"
"I won't go back to sleep," I said, fully intending to do exactly that. "And later today I'll, I don't know. Find some jingle bells to hang on the door or something."
"Foolproof plan," Theo muttered crossly, but he didn't put up any more arguments. He just stuffed his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants and turned to shuffle down the hall.
"Night, Teddy," I whisper-yelled. He held up a middle finger without turning around.
I smiled.
It took me a good ten minutes to scrub the blood from under my nails, and by the time I was showered and squeaky-clean, it was closing in on four in the morning. I scribbled a note to Vanessa: Be at work late, don't wake me and, with a sigh of relief, crawled between the sheets.
13
I woke to an empty room and a response from Vanessa on the Post-It note: You're gonna get fired. I laughed. Even though my joints ached with exhaustion, and I had no idea why I was suddenly rambling around campus in my sleep, I was in a tentatively good mood. Theo and I were going to tackle this together, and that, somehow, made it all seem manageable.
"But first," I said, stretching, "laundry."
I'd stuffed my filthy pajamas into a shopping bag as soon as I'd come in the dorm—I didn't want to risk incurring Vanessa's wrath two days in a row—and I was hoping I'd be able to get the worst of the staining out. But when I pulled them out of the bag, I realized it would be a fruitless endeavor. The pajama top was splattered and stained with blood, and the silk pants were ripped.
"Damn," I muttered.
I tied the top of the bag, slid into my boots, and grabbed the dorm key. I was still in my pajamas, but it was after nine o'clock; no one would be around to see me. I didn't want the bloody clothes near me for one more second.
I was halfway down the stairs when I heard the click of the electronic exterior lock. I rounded the corner and saw—
Luca grinned up at me. "Good morning," he said.
I stopped in my tracks, my hand on the railing instinctively flying up to cross my braless chest. "Luca," I gasped.
