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“Guess I missed it,” he says.
Anna grabs Herb’s arm. “Get up.”
Herb remains facedown on the floor, uncertain. “Where are we going?”
“Back to your room. Where you’ll remain for the rest of this trip.”
“I’m sure as hell not going back there,” Herb says as he pushes himself into a kneeling position. “I told you, it’s not safe.”
“I’ll protect you,” Anna says. “It’s not in my best interest to let you die.”
She waits as Herb, also spent by their scuffle, climbs to his feet. Seamus grabs him by the arm and leads him away. “I’ll stand guard outside his door,” he says. “To make sure this doesn’t happen again.”
Reggie, Sal, and Lapsford follow behind them. Although they’ve all moved into the lounge and out of view, Anna can stillhear their voices. “Are you afraid of him hurting her or her hurting him?” Sal asks.
Even Anna can see that it’s a valid question. Especially now that everyone aboard the Philadelphia Phoenix knows she has a knife.
“Both,” Seamus says.
Twenty-Eight
Only Dante remainsin the lounge, looking at Anna with a combination of fear and concern. “Are you okay?” he says.
Anna stretches, her limbs tight. When she rotates her neck, it lets out a sharp crack. “I can take care of myself.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
“I’m fine,” Anna says. “Really.”
“You sure about that?” Dante’s gaze drops to her neck. “Because you’re still bleeding.”
“Am I?” Anna says, touching her throat and finding a speck of blood on her fingers.
“Here. Come with me.”
Dante grabs Anna by the hand. Before she can protest, he pulls her behind the bar. He then grabs a cloth napkin, dips it into a nearby ice bucket with an inch of water in the bottom, and places it against Anna’s neck.
She snatches the napkin from his hand. “I can do it myself.”
“Of course you can,” Dante says.
Anna places it against her throat, the damp napkin blessedly cool against her skin. She didn’t realize how hot she’d become, flush from both exertion and rage. Even now her bloodcontinues to boil. She can feel her pulse thrumming at the side of her neck.
“Do you think Herb Pulaski really intended to kill you?” Dante says.
“I don’t know. He’s desperate to get off this train, that’s for sure. He’s convinced the killer is going room by room and that he’s next.”
“Maybe that was a ruse. Maybe he’s the killer.”
“I doubt it.”
“Innocent men don’t threaten women at knifepoint.”
“Well, none of these people are innocent,” Anna says, lowering the napkin. “But he seemed genuinely afraid.”
“And are you afraid, Annie? Because I’m starting to think you should be. By the way, you missed a spot.”
Dante takes the napkin and gently tilts Anna’s head back. She reluctantly allows it.