Page 22 of Inferno
‘Here.’ He pressed his fingernail against the base and I stared until a tiny brown spot came into focus. It was just inside theLin the inscription.
I pulled back, grimacing. ‘I thought I cleaned it all.’
When I looked at him again, his face had clouded over. I stepped back, suddenly conscious of how close we had been standing.
‘What did you do with it, Sophie? Did you hurt someone?’
‘Don’t you think that’s a tad hypocritical considering you’re an assassin?’
‘That’s different. I’m trained. You’re… you.’
I threw him a withering look. ‘I know you think that’s some sort of insult, but I’m choosing to take it as a compliment.’
‘Take it as you like.’ He dropped his voice. ‘Who did you stab?’
‘Fine,’I relented. ‘If youmustknow, I may or may not have accidentally stabbed myself when I was sleeping.’
‘Ah,’ he said, like the answer to some great riddle had been revealed to him. His face relaxed and he resumed blinking. ‘Thatmakes sense.’ He closed the blade and slid it into his pocket. ‘No more switchblade for you.’
‘I didn’t want it anyway,’ I told him, my tone petulant. ‘I’m clearing out my life of everything that’s been harmful to me.’
‘Sothat’swhy you came,’ he said, circling around me and turning to look at the walls again. ‘To clear out the assassins once and for all.Symbolically.’
‘Yes,’ I said to the back of his head. ‘I’ll have you know it’s a form of therapeutic healing.’ His hair had grown since I’d seen him last. It was still shaggy, but stray black strands swept across his neck now. He was wearing a grey T-shirt andfrom the back I could see a glimpse of a silver chain disappearing beneath it. I wondered what it was. I wondered why I cared.
He glanced at me over his shoulder. ‘And here I was thinking you wanted to see me again.’
My body erupted in violent incredulity.‘What? Whywould I want to see you again? We’re not even friends. Honestly, Luca, you’re so full of yourself.’
He turned around on the heel of his boot, amusement colouring his voice. ‘I’m joking, Sophie. Don’t have a coronary.’
‘You have a terrible sense of humour.’
‘Maybe it’s too complex for you.’
‘Don’t make me regret saving your life,’ I teased, wiping the smirk off his face and shining a light on that Big Thing we had been so expertly avoiding.
‘Oh yeah,’ he said, feigning a sudden memory flash. ‘That.’ He wound his fingers together. ‘I’m not sure I ever thanked you.’
I raised my eyebrows, expectant.
‘Thank you,’ he said, acting shockingly earnest, before flipping his accent into a rolling Italian lilt, and adding,‘Grazie, sinceramente.’
‘It’s OK.’ I waved my hand around in the air. ‘I got your flowers.’
Luca’s face screwed up. ‘What? I didn’t send you flowers.’
‘Oh, that’s right,’ I deadpanned him. ‘You didn’t send meanything.’
‘Ah,’ he said. ‘I see what you did there. Maybe I’ll reconsider.’
‘I imagine it will be a cold day in hell before Luca Falconegives anyone a bouquet of flowers.’
The corner of his lips twitched. ‘It’s not really the Falcone style.’
‘I guess there’s nothing so sweet as honey,’ I said, only dregs of joviality left in my voice now.
That really did shut him up. He turned around and let his attention settle on the wall again. He didn’t gesture for me to leave, and even though I should have, I didn’t. I lingered, without really knowing why I wanted to hang out in a dusky tomb with a bunch of dead murderers and someone who had once made my skin burn with hatred. Someone I used to fear. I guess I didn’t feel any of that any more. When I pressed my hands against his body in the warehouse and felt his blood, warm and sticky, on my fingers, he became something else to me… human, breakable.
