A distant cry caused her to glance back. A bobbing light followed several blocks back. Margo swore under her breath and kept running. She took another wrong turn and sped back the way she’d come. The light had drawn closer: Achilles, carrying a lantern. He called out, “Domine! Domine!”
She didn’t have time …
The boy caught up to her, gasping for breath, and followed when she homed in on the hulling silhouette of the Circus. The glances he shot her told Margo he thought his young master had completely flipped, but he was sticking by her. Damn, damn, damn… She finally found the Via Appia. Margo raced around the end of the Circus and skidded around the corner. There …
What time is it?
She didn’t have time to check her log. She just ran for the counter and hoped for the best. Too late, she saw a familiar figure detach itself from the counter and move toward her in the darkness.
Malcolm.
Guilt and fear and relief hit her simultaneously.
As she closed the distance between them, Margo found that she had no idea what to say to him. Hi, I really screwed up, aren’t you happy you went to bed with a dolt and by the way, how do I get rid of this poor slave I seem to have acquired? stuck somehow in her throat. So she screwed her courage to the sticking place and decided to brazen it out.
She would apologize and eat crow once they were through the gate.
Malcolm hadn’t slept in days. Time Tours employees had begun steering clear of him whenever he returned to the inn. He functioned on adrenaline and hope and the hope was waning fast. He’d never lost a customer. Never mind someone as precious as Margo. What Kit would say, what Kit would do …