Last Christmas (Private 0.60)

"Told you," Thomas murmured with a smile. "I know my way around this

dorm. Wanna know why?"

"Not really." She dragged a thick pine branch over to the window and wedged it between the window and the

windowsill. The opening was almost six feet above the floor. Thomas wouldn't be able to make it without

hurting his ankle again. But they didn't have a choice. She slipped through the opening, knees bent, and

landed on her feet. The air was musty, and she doubled over in a coughing fit.

"We used to have beer pong tournaments down here. I used to sneak in with a girl named Rebecca," Thomas

droned from outside. "I think that's her name." He slid his legs through the window and grinned down at

Ariana from his perch above. "That's it. Definitely Rebecca or Lindsay or Paige." He paused. "Or Juliana. We

know a Juliana? No. Wait. We know an Ariana."

"Yes, we do," Ariana sighed. "Do you think you can jump?" She took a step back from the window.

"Paige," Thomas mused, his words beginning to slur. "She's kind of a bitch, huh?"

168

Ariana laughed out loud in spite of herself. "Now, Thomas. Before you're out cold."

"Yeah. Okay." Thomas flipped over on his stomach and eased down slowly. He released his hands from the

window and dropped the last few inches to the floor. "How's that?"

"Fine," she said, her face flushing with embarrassment. High as a kite, and he could still figure out a better

way in than she could. She guided his hand over her shoulder, and they navigated their way through the

cluttered basement. She eyed the narrow staircase that rose up from the right corner of the room, wishing she

could stroll up the stairs and into a warm, safe bed.

Instead she had to settle for the hollow space underneath the stairs. Once she'd propped Thomas against the

wall, she stopped to look at him. His face was smeared with dark blood.

How had that gotten there? She frantically searched his face and body for cuts, anything. After a moment she

rested her face in her hands, defeated, exhausted. Gold. But there was something sticky on her hands. Warm

almost.

"Oh my God." She heaved, realizing the blood was coming from her. It was all over her hands, her hair. She

tore her coat off, examined her own body for cuts. There were none. But that couldn't be right, unless ...

The blood wasn't hers.

She glanced down at her coat, her pulse flickering erratically. There was a bloodstain on the left side of her

coat, over her heart.