"You're one to talk, little miss no-love-life," I returned.
"At least I'm not making all my friends sit through my ridiculously protracted mating ritual," she said. "Seriously, you're like a middle schooler."
I finished my bowl of cereal, dumped out the milk, and set the bowl in the sink to wash after lunch. "I'm not really the rushing type," I said. I pulled on my jacket and swung my backpack over my shoulder.
"It's been three years, Cora. I don't think anybody's going to accuse you of rushing," said Lisette.
"I'll see you tonight," I said pointedly, my hand on the door.
She smiled. "Yeah, see you."
***
I was alone in the room, some kind of stone chamber with supporting arches every few feet that made it impossible to see very far.
"Hello?" I called out.
There was no answer.
The room was cold. I rubbed my palms against my upper arms, the muscles of my stomach and nipples tightening beneath the thigh-length tee shirt that was my only clothing. I began walking, peering through the murky dimness, moving through the maze of pillar and arch aimlessly. I had to reach a wall eventually, I decided. Somewhere, there had to be an end to this.
Then I saw the light. It was red, low, and fitful, but it gave me a destination, and I sped up, my bare feet soft on the bare dirt floor. I came around a final pillar, and I saw it then, a kind of metal bowl or fire pit full of coals so hot that they were nearly smokeless, bending the air above them with their heat.
I approached, drawn by the warmth in the dank chill of the endless chamber.
And then I saw him. And my heart seemed to stop.
Mr. Thorne stood in the shadows on the other side of the fire. He was nothing like the urbane, contained man I had sat across from at the restaurant. Dressed in a loose white shirt and dark pants, he seemed larger, freer, and not entirely human.
"Ms. Shaw." My name sounded like a prayer on his lips. Those lips, slightly, wickedly fuller than they should be. "You've come."
I said nothing, mesmerized by his raw beauty.
He circled the fire pit in slow, stalking steps. He was dragging something at his side, something long and narrow, but I could not take my eyes off his face to look at it properly.
He came right up to me and stopped, just as he had when I'd turned to face him in front of the restaurant. Then he pulled me against him with one hand, so that I could feel the length of his body, and his mouth came down over mine.