Inferno

He shook his head. ‘The process will be difficult,’ he told me plainly. ‘I don’t offer our protection lightly. But I offer it nonetheless.’

My shock faded a little, bewilderment rising in its place. I didn’t know exactly what he meant by process, but I could plainly see his offer was real, and important.

‘Why?’ I asked. ‘Why would you want to protect us? It wasn’t that long ago that you hated me.’

‘We didn’t know you then,’ he said, before adding, almost begrudgingly, ‘We didn’t care about you then.’

I clamped my hands together on my lap and felt their clamminess. Something squirmed inside me. ‘So, you care about me now,’ I said, meaning to make a joke of it, but it came out soft and low and full of something guttural that made me embarrassed. ‘Why?’

We both knew what I was really asking. What changed your mind?

Luca angled his body towards me, lost in quiet consideration. We were so close, if I edged forward I’d be right under his chin. Why would I edge forward? What was up with me today? When he spoke I could feel his breath on my cheeks, the only moving air in our bubble of stifling humidity. ‘Because I don’t know anybody like you. You’re like … a rare artefact. And it would be a shame if you got broken.’

Amusement spluttered from me in the most unattractive way. ‘Are you really comparing me to an antique right now? Oh my God, you nerd.’

He started laughing, and the carefree melody of it swept me up until I was laughing too, and it was absurd because our families were being threatened and murdered and there we were squished together in a hundred-degree heat outside a maximum security prison, and we used to hate each other and now we were laughing so hard I had tears in my eyes.

He composed himself first, but it took a while and I was left choking my laughter into silence. ‘What I meant was,’ his face twisted into a quiet smile that felt secret and deadly, ‘you’re a bright spark, Sophie. And I don’t want anyone to snuff you out.’

‘Oh.’ Well I couldn’t make fun of that. Was I supposed to say something back? Wasn’t that how compliments worked? The silence was growing and suddenly his words felt heavy and important and he was so close to me and I was perspiring and panicking, and … and I said, ‘And you’re kind of like a snowflake.’

Oh, Jesus Christ.

He masked his fleeting surprise with a quirked eyebrow. ‘Excuse me?’

‘Nothing,’ I said quickly. ‘I didn’t say anything.’

‘No, no,’ he said, rounding on me so his face was too close, his eyes too searing, his smile too irritating. ‘I’m a snowflake, am I?’

‘Shut up. Seriously.’ I pulled wisps of loose hair around my cheeks. ‘Shut up.’

‘I think you were trying to tell me I was special.’

‘Icy,’ I said. ‘I meant you were icy.’

I could practically taste his glee. I was floundering, and he was relishing it.

‘And unique, in that you’re uniquely annoying,’ I added. ‘God, you’re annoying. That’s what I meant.’

‘If I’m annoying, then they haven’t yet invented a word to describe you.’

‘Shut up. I’m perfect.’ I stuck my tongue out.

‘I suppose you’re not the worst.’ He removed himself from my personal space and refixed his gaze to the sky. His arms stretched out behind him, his fingers brushing my shoulder, but he didn’t seem to notice. ‘But goddammit you are stubborn, Sophie Gracewell.’

‘I’m not stubborn. I’m persistent.’

‘No. You’re stubborn.’ His smile turned rueful. ‘And you make terrible decisions. Especially in life-or-death situations. It’s like you always choose to do that one thing you’re definitely not supposed to do.’

‘I do not!’ I protested.

‘You know that saying, “If everyone was jumping off a cliff, would you jump too?” Well, I seriously think you would.’

‘So you are basically telling me I’m stupid, is that it?’

‘No,’ he said in a measured voice, like he was actually trying not to offend me. ‘I’m saying you are ruled by your emotions. And I’m afraid there’ll come a time when the smart thing will be to walk away from a dangerous situation, and you won’t do it, because your emotions will stop you.’

I rolled my eyes. ‘Well, excusez-moi for having emotions. It’s not my fault you’re lacking in that department.’

He stared at me, his expression suddenly unreadable. ‘I have emotions, Sophie, but I don’t let them rule me.’

‘Whatever,’ I said haughtily. ‘I am very capable of making smart decisions, I’ll have you know.’

He frowned at me. ‘Why did you come to Eden, then?’

‘Why did you, Mr Double Standards?’

‘It’s different for me.’

He was beginning to annoy me – this holier-than-thou thing he had going on. He turned his attention from me, lost in his own world. For the first time that week I wasn’t thinking about all the danger swirling around me, or all the things I still didn’t know. Instead, I was thinking about how annoying Luca was. I was thinking about his superior attitude. That smug smile he had. The weird musicality in his laugh. I was thinking about how his hair swooped behind his ears in that stupid careless way. I was wondering about his eyes and whether their intense blueness ever caught him off guard when he looked in the mirror. I wondered if he was vain. He didn’t seem vain, but I never did have a proper handle on his character. It always seemed to change just when I thought I had figured him out.