“The other room. Here, in Bryony’s flat.”
“It was my idea,” she admitted. “God knows she won’t be returning here after pulling a stunt like this. And I didn’t want to bring you to your house, not contagious like this. So we took this place over, changed the locks; Milo called in some favors, as you can see. We’ll bring in a professional cleaning crew, of course, after this is all over. The next tenant doesn’t deserve to get the Watson flu in the bargain.”
After this is all over. One way or another, it would be over soon. She caught my gaze, and with that magician’s trick of hers, I watched her read my mind.
She shook her head quickly, hugging her arms around herself.
“You can’t do that,” I said quietly. “You can’t fall apart yet.”
She nodded, her face turned from me.
“Come here,” I said, moving over in the bed. “If you really don’t mind my being patient zero.”
She swallowed her tears. I pulled back the sheet, and she crawled in beside me, putting her head on my chest. I pressed my lips against the dark crown of her hair. It was like those hours under the porch, the stillness, the waiting; and it was nothing like it at all. My muscles ached. My limbs were heavy. My lungs were raw in my chest. I had to brace myself against the bed as another round of shivers ground their way through me.
“How did you know?” I asked, gritting my teeth. “About the virus? About what happened to me?”
“Bryony sent me a list of her demands,” she said, her voice muffled in my shirt. “Via text, of course. She had it timed to your appointment at Michener Hall. Must’ve gotten the schedule from the all-campus email.”
“Via text? Holmes, that can be used as evidence against her.”
“That’s not what we’re going to do.”
“But—”
“Don’t, Watson.”
I didn’t have the strength to argue with her. “What were her demands? What does she want?”
“A pony,” she said.
I smiled against the pain. “The very prettiest pony in the land, on a golden lead. Only then will the favorite sidekick be cured.”
“You’re not my sidekick,” Holmes said softly. “That’s her first mistake.”
“What am I, then?”
But I didn’t know if I wanted to hear the answer. Not now.
She must have heard the reticence in my voice. “A pony,” she said, “and three million dollars, and safe passage to Russia, a country which, given my father’s history as well as the current state of US-Russo relations, won’t extradite her to either Britain or America to stand trial for what she’s done. Which would be moot, anyway, because she wants me to claim full responsibility for Dobson’s murder and Elizabeth’s attack.”
“Jesus Christ.” I struggled against the idea.
“She’s done the thing very completely,” Holmes said. There was a touch of admiration in her voice. “I should have known.”
“This is not your fault,” I told her, before she could go on. “You claiming it’s your fault makes it sound like I’m just a piece of cargo getting hauled next to you. No will of my own. So stop it.”
“But—”
“I’m dying,” I told her, with a grim sort of glee. “You have to listen to me.”
She laughed hollowly. “Milo has the money, and he’s arranging the airfare as we speak. I’ve written out my confession. It’s done. The exchange will be made at nine o’clock in the morning. She has the antidote. I don’t know how—Dr. Warner doesn’t know how it’s possible—but she does, and even if she’s lying, it’s still a chance we have to take. We’re meeting her twenty-two hours after your infection, so you should still be—ah. It should be fine.”
“Where?”
“She’ll text us the location when it’s time.”
“You’re not going to jail for this,” I said. “Detective Shepard won’t let you. Wait, isn’t she in his custody? What the hell happened there?”
“Remember when we thought she stopped for gas? She switched cars at the police station. Left her Toyota in the lot and picked up another car that she’d left there.” Again, that note of admiration. “We saw her as a stupid sorority girl, and she ran circles around us.”
“And where is he now? Detective Shepard?”
“Her terms were no police involvement, no sending you to the hospital. So I don’t know. I’ve been focused on you.” I felt her shrug. “That’s the other part. You’ll die. One way or another, you’ll die if I don’t take this fall. I think it’s a good idea to listen to her, as she’s proven herself handy with a suitcase bomb.”
The door cracked open, and Milo stuck his glossy head in. If he was surprised to see his sister tucked in my arms, he didn’t show it.
“You’re awake. How are you feeling?” he asked.
Like I’d been run down by a truck. “Fine,” I said.
“Do you want us to contact your parents?”