A bony finger rose from the robe, pointing, and the boat came to a shaky stop. The river diverged into a V here, the rocky walls rising around us reflecting the orange heat of the lava below.
I had to choose.
I can’t.
I shook my head, refused. The bony finger rose again. Choose.
No, no, no. Don’t make me. Please don’t make me choose. I begged.
The finger dropped and the figure was still. Relieved, I sat back in the boat, closing my eyes. It was out of my hands. Whichever way we went, I wasn’t responsible.
The boat rocked hard and I jolted up. The gondola tilted so far to one side scalding lava began to seep over the edge. Then the other. The figure was going to tip the boat! I was going to be thrown in!
“No!” I cried, but the words were useless.
The boat flooded with fiery liquid and reached its tipping point, throwing me into a broiling hell of fire. I screamed, trying to swim in the searing heat, seeing the figure right the gondola, standing again at the edge and beginning to steer away.
I swam in the sweltering heat. Impossible. Why hadn’t I melted into nothing? I was on fire, but the heat was white-hot, like needles, tiny knives, and I shivered in response. I was drowning in fire like ice, the pain making my whole body ache.
“Dani!”
I turned toward the sound of my name. Mason! Was he coming for me?
“Bella! Wake up!” Nico, calling me.
Choose. The figure was back, standing over me, floating above the river of pain. Choose.
“No!” I thrashed on the couch, feeling hands holding me down. “Cold,” I muttered, shivering. I thought I’d kicked my blankets off, but no, there they were, tangled around my waist. Both men were standing over me in their boxer shorts. Had I called out?
Mason’s hand on my forehead. “Oh Jesus Christ, she’s burning up.”
“Get her to the bed,” Nico ordered.
“Whose?”
“I don’t care!”
Mason carried me, the blankets dragging behind him. His bed was soft, the down comforter warm, but still I shivered. I couldn’t stop.
“Keep me warm,” I begged, reaching for Mason. He slid into bed beside me, glancing at Nico, and I called for him, too. “Please, Nico. Please.” And he came as well, snuggled behind me, both of them putting their arms around me, a cocoon.
But even the heat from their bodies didn’t help. Still, I shivered, my teeth chattering, even though they pulled the down-filled covers up to my chin, both of them smoothing my hair. I tried to sleep and I think I did, but I woke whimpering, feeling myself slipping into nothing, grasping for something to hold onto. Mason was there to hold me, Nico right behind.
“I’m so cold,” I complained, burying my face in Mason’s chest, feeling Nico’s arms around me. I slept again, this time dreaming of hell, my own private version where Satan forced me into impossible choices over and over.
“What’s wrong with me?” I woke up as Nico brought a thermometer, putting it under my tongue.
“Shhh.” He soothed, looking over at Mason. “I think it’s just a little bit of fever.”
“Little my ass.” Mason took the thermometer out as it beeped. “It’s… forty? What the hell does that mean?”
Nico paled. “We need to call the doctor. That’s about… a hundred and four degrees Fahrenheit.”
“Hello, I need to speak to Dr. Selvaggi.” Mason was on the phone before Nico even finished his sentence. “Dr. Selvaggi please,” he repeated louder. “I need to speak to Dr. Selvaggi right now!”
Even I could hear the string of Italian coming from the receiver, which I knew was completely unintelligible to Mason.
Nico grabbed the phone, speaking fluent Italian. “Dr. Selvaggi’s patient, Danielle Stuart, has a fever and I suspect she has an infection.” He paused, listening. “Forty.” He sighed in relief. “Thank you.”
Mason re-appeared with a cool cloth, resting it on my forehead. It felt good, but I was still so cold! Nico talked to the doctor as Mason wiped my face and neck with the washcloth, whispering my name, kissing my cheek.
“What did he say?” Mason asked when Nico hung up the phone.
“He’s going to prescribe antibiotics,” Nico told him, switching back to English. “But he wants to see her on Monday.”
I groaned. “No more doctors!”
“He also said we have to get her fever down.”
Mason nodded. “Do you have aspirin?”
“Bring her into the bathroom.” Nico was already heading out of the room.
“Can’t you just go get it?” Mason called.
“We need to get her into the tub.”
“What?” I protested, but Mason carried me and Nico ran the water. They undressed me like a child, fed me aspirins, and helped me to the tub.
I screamed, thrashing in the water, trying to escape.
“It’s freezing!”
“Keep her in.” Nico’s mouth was set in a grim line. “I have to get ice.”
My teeth chattered so much, the noise in my head so loud, I could barely hear Mason’s words as he grabbed my limbs, pushing me back in, something about holding still and being for my own good.
“Do we really have to do this?” Mason panted when Nico brought a bowl full of ice cubes into the bathroom.
“The doctor said to.” Nico looked at me, his face pained. “If her fever gets much higher, she may start to have seizures. It could cause brain injury.”
“Christ.” Mason winced as Nico poured the ice in and I screamed again.
“Please,” I begged them both, my eyes wild, so cold I couldn’t feel my fingers where my nails dug into Mason’s forearm. “Oh god, please, stop. Please!”
Nico’s voice was hoarse. “I have to get more.”
I sobbed, clinging to Mason, and then to Nico, when the freezer was empty of ice. They took turns soothing me, both men working to cool my feverish body as I writhed in the tub, begging for it to end.
Nico took my temperature, although I was shivering so much I could barely keep the thermometer between my chattering teeth.
“What is it?” Mason asked, his jaw tight.
Nico’s shoulders visibly relaxed. “Better. Let’s get her to bed.”
A fluffy towel and four rough hands later, I was dry. One of Mason’s t-shirts-it smelled comfortingly like him-went over my head and this time Nico carried me back to the bed.
“I’m so sorry,” Nico whispered into my ear in Italian, kissing my cheek, my temple, as he pulled the covers up to my chin. “Hang on, bella. I love you.”
“Just don’t leave me.” I put my arms around his neck and hung on.
The doorbell rang and Mason and Nico exchanged glances.
“It’s the pharmacy,” Nico said.
Mason was already heading toward the door.
And then there were more pills, two huge ones, big enough to gag a horse. I choked and spit water all down the front of me, wetting the t-shirt. Mason pulled it off and just covered me with the down-filled blanket again.
“Now what?” Mason sat next to me on the bed.
“We wait. We pray. We hope.” Nico was on my other side, his cool hand pressed against my forehead.
Mason snorted. “Isn’t there something a little more proactive we can do?”
“There’s nothing but this.” Nico spooned me, his arm around my waist.
“I’m still cold.” I opened my eyes, seeing Mason looking at us, his expression unreadable. I reached for him, feeling desperate. “Please.”
He came to bed, his breath warm on my cheek, his hand on my hip.
“Closer,” I whispered, and he obliged. They both did, enveloping me, and I finally relaxed, this time falling into a dreamless, peaceful sleep with no fire, no ice.
Chapter Seven
Dear Carrie and Doc,
I need your advice. Nico and Mason are competing for me all the time. I think they’ve decided to live together-they’re roommates now, at least for the time Mason is staying-just to drive me crazy. And to make sure they can both keep tabs on what I’m doing, of course. I feel so caught between the two of them and I don’t know what to do.