The Flight of the Silvers (33 page)

On Friday evening, while the Silvers digested their dinner on the balcony, Zack and Mia shared the fruits of their labor.

“He’s thirty-seven and widowed with one son,” Zack told them. “When he’s not out disproving the existence of his own people, he likes to write fiction. He has two published novels, both set in medieval Ireland. He claims he can trace his ancestry all the way back to King Arthur’s father.”

“Yes, and I’m related to Beowulf,” David mocked.

Zack laughed. “We didn’t buy it either. From his age, I assume he’s a fourth-generation Gotham, which is pretty mind-blowing when you think about it. I mean we’re nouveau weird. These people have been carrying it in their genes since 1912.”

“They sound like interesting people,” Theo offered. “Shame they want us dead.”

Amanda forked a piece of Zack’s cheesecake. “I don’t understand what Peter’s trying to accomplish with his articles. Why write about fake Gothams?”

“Misdirection,” Mia explained. “The more he highlights the phonies and crazies, the less people believe in the real thing.”

“Oh. Well, I guess we didn’t help his cause when we fought those policemen.”

Zack vented a heavy sigh. “No. We made a bunch of new believers on Monday. I’m sure that’s another reason Rebel wants us dead.”

Hannah stewed in the bubbling hot tub, scowling with ill temper. This was supposed to be a week of luxurious self-indulgence, and yet two of her people blew it all on research while another two went wild with charity. Stranger still, they all seemed happier for their efforts. Obviously she and Theo screwed up somehow. They had devoted their week to more intimate pleasures. Now they both felt perfectly wretched.

—

They’d spent their first night in separate beds. Once the lights went out, the actress and the augur blew airy topics of chatter back and forth—favorite songs, pet peeves, complaints about their mutual companions. They moved on to discuss past loves, though Theo confessed to having just one. Hannah noticed he wasn’t particularly eager to talk about her.

At 2
A.M.
, she bid Theo good night, and then offered him the prospect of a great night.

“Let me know when you want me to come over there,” she said.

Five seconds passed before Theo turned on the lamp. He stared at her with tense, bulging eyes.

“Uh, what exactly are you proposing?”

She opened the drawer on the nightstand, revealing a box of Admiral John condoms. Beneath the stylized logo, a bearded man in eighteenth-century naval garb smirked at Theo.

“Wow. Jesus, Hannah. I . . . don’t even know what to say.”

“Did you honestly not see this coming? I’ve been hanging all over you. I practically insisted we share a room.”

“I don’t know. I thought it was just flirting. I certainly never expected . . . What’s this supposed to be, anyway? A one-night stand? A weeklong fling?”

“It can be whatever we want it to be. And I’m sorry if my directness bothered you. I know we’re attracted to each other. I’m just trying to save time.”

Theo couldn’t get over her sudden transformation. Hannah was normally a rickety construct, perpetually unsure and unsettled. Now she propositioned him without a speck of doubt or worry.

“I really don’t think it’s a good idea, Hannah. I mean if things go bad—”

“Okay. Suit yourself.”

She turned off the lamp. Theo continued to stare at her in the dark. “Look, I’m really sorry. It has nothing to do—”

“Theo, it’s fine. Seriously. I’ve been at both ends of this process. I get it.”

“So you’re not mad.”

Hannah aimed a sly grin at the ceiling. She didn’t get mad in these situations. She got ruthless.

On Sunday, the actress began her formal assault on Theo’s better judgment. She hit the boutiques for a sleek haircut and a bag full of seduction supplies. That afternoon, she entered the hot tub in her new swimsuit: a shiny silver one-piece with a neckline plunge that derailed even David’s train of thought. At dinner, she reached past Theo for the salt shaker, filling his nose with a strawberry scent that pushed him another step closer to madness. At midnight, she showered with the door slightly open, singing a rendition of Leonard Cohen’s “Hallelujah” that was beautiful enough to make Theo wince. She emerged from the bathroom in a chest-hugging half shirt and boy shorts, then asked him if there was anything he felt like doing.

Theo now understood why she’d been so cavalier last night. She saw the inevitability of his surrender long before he did. She wasn’t just the confident one in this duo, she was the augur.

“You sure know how to make a guy feel stupid for turning you down.”

“I haven’t said a word about it,” she coyly replied.

“You think I wasn’t already tempted?”

“I have no idea what’s going on in your head, Theo.”

Frustrated, he dropped his book on the nightstand. “Convince me that a fling won’t end with us hating each other.”

“Convince me that it will.”

“I could spend an hour listing all the dark possibilities.”

“I could spend a week listing all the better things we can do with that hour.”

After a few silent moments, their tight faces cracked away in laughter. Theo shook his head at himself. “I’m trying to talk a beautiful woman out of sleeping with me. It’s come to this.”

Hannah turned off the overhead light and sat at Theo’s side. In the soft haze of the night lamp, she held her palm against his cheek.

“Look, I’m sorry for the way I offered myself to you last night. I shouldn’t have been so cold about it. If I wanted a meaningless encounter, I’d go to the bar and pick up a stranger. I’m coming to you because I want intimacy with a man I know and trust. We’re both adults, Theo. We can be affectionate without falling in love or hating each other later. We can make each other feel good on every level. But in order to do that, you need to stop worrying about the future, just for a little while. Can you do that? Can you put it all aside and just be with me?”

Caught between his doubts and desires, the inevitable regrets of his yes and no answers, Theo ran a cautious hand down her arm.

“When you are in your element, Hannah Given, you’re a force to behold.”

Smiling in victory, she reached for the lamp. “Sweetie, I haven’t even started.”

Sunday was a great night for both of them. At 5:23 and four Admiral Johns, they finally agreed to rest their elated bodies. Hannah pressed against Theo’s side as he drifted off to sleep, enjoying the rhythmic sound of his heartbeat. The thump thump thump—

(of a brand-new chump)

—was hypnotic, almost enough to clear the turmoil in her thoughts. She wanted to burrow a hole in Theo and hide inside him until everything was right with the universe again.

They spent the next four days like newlyweds, devouring each other at every turn. In daylight hours, when the others embarked on their missions, they frolicked through the suite—kissing in the kitchen, spooning on the sofas, basking in the balcony hot tub. It was only during their evenings of mixed company that they kept their hands off each other. They agreed to keep their arrangement hidden, if only to spare themselves from Zack’s jokes, Amanda’s concerns, and David’s awkwardly intrusive questions.

With each secret act of pleasure, their emotional cords became tangled in ways that were both subtle and obvious. By Wednesday, their conversations had become as intimate as their lovemaking.

“I don’t miss my parents,” Theo confessed. “I was only their son when they could brag about me. The moment I stopped being the glowing prodigy, I simply stopped existing. They never even visited me in the hospital after I tried to kill myself.”

Hannah held him in bed, somberly staring at the wall as she traced a finger across his chest. “That might be a blessing. Amanda visited me and it only made things worse.”

“How so?”

“She sat next to my mother and looked at me like I was some kind of criminal, like I’d tried to kill some other girl. It made me want to die all over again. I mean I still love her but . . . I don’t know. If she hadn’t gotten a silver bracelet, I’d probably be telling you now in all honesty that I don’t miss her.”

In the predawn hours of Friday, they reached the peak of their union. Their fifth encounter of the night had turned so passionate that all they could do was stare at each other in astonishment as they fought to catch their breath.

“Hannah . . .”

“Don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t say anything that’s going to change things.”

He eyed her with hot resentment. “I wasn’t going to tell you I love you.”

“I didn’t say you were.”

“I was just going to say things may have changed.”

“Well . . . don’t.”

Theo rolled off her, then shot a dark gaze at the ceiling.

“I haven’t had any bad dreams since Saturday. They stopped when we started.”

He checked her expression. “Is that okay for me to say? Or does that freak you out too?”

“That doesn’t freak me out, Theo.”

“So, any response to that?”

Hannah turned away from him, grim-faced.

“I guess our friendship comes with all sorts of benefits.”

That morning, Theo’s handphone beeped. The display announced nine new texts from a person only listed as
A. Fact
. Each message was fifteen characters or shorter. Theo couldn’t delete them without being forced to read Evan’s whole nasty dispatch.

She will never

Love you, Theo.

She simply

Isn’t capable.

Save yourself.

Get out now.

If you won’t

End it,

Azral will. :(

After lunch, they soaked in the hot tub. Theo rolled drops of water down Hannah’s shoulders. He didn’t need Evan to cast a cloud of doom over their relationship. With each passing hour, he felt a cold wall of grief drawing toward them like a tidal wave. He wasn’t sure if he was suffering premonitions or merely jitters.

“What was your longest relationship?” he asked her, out of the blue.

“Nine weeks, more or less. Why?”

“How did it end?”

“I mostly dated actors,” Hannah replied. “Typically I’d lose them to another woman, another man, or Los Angeles. As it stood, I lost Nine Week Boy to a woman in Los Angeles. Why are you asking?”

“Just being nosy.”

“Okay. Fine. My turn. How did you and your girlfriend—what was her name?”

“Rachel.”

“How did you and Rachel break up?”

After a brief silence, Hannah slid off his lap and faced him from the other side of the tub. “You’re not going to tell me?”

“We didn’t break up,” he replied.

“So she died.”

“Yes.”

“When everyone else did?”

“No.”

Hannah chucked her wet hands. “This is turning into Twenty Questions.”

“I’d rather it turn into No Questions.”

“So you get to delve into my past, but I can’t delve into yours.”

“I’m choosing not to answer. You could have done the same. It’s not like we need to know everything about each other. We’re not a couple.”

Hannah could have frozen the whole tub with her stare.

“Are you just venting right now? Or are you trying to sink the whole ship?”

“We’ve been sinking from the start, Hannah. I’m just putting on a life vest.”

She climbed out of the water and wrapped a towel around her waist. “I’ll let you stew for a while. If you have any interest in preserving what we have—”

“We can’t preserve it. That’s what I’m trying to tell you.”

“We have
weeks
, Theo! We could enjoy each other for weeks!”

“Until what? I become discouraged enough to leave you for another woman? Another man? Los Angeles? Aren’t you getting sick of this pattern?”

She glared at him in hot exasperation. “Are you trying to make me hate you?”

“No.”

“Then look to the future and see where this gets you.”

She slammed the patio door behind her. Theo looked out to the other four towers. He could only imagine that Evan was sitting on one of those balconies, grinning as he watched their bubbling troubles through binoculars.

They kept their distance from each other for the rest of the afternoon, and avoided eye contact during dinner. While the Silvers ate their desserts on the balcony table, Hannah crawled back into the hot tub. Her companions spent most of the evening talking about Gothams and Peter Pendergen, as sure a sign as any that the vacation was over.

Once the others retired for the night, Theo finally dared to face Hannah alone. He saw her through the crack in the bedroom door, staring somberly at a small item in her hand, the driver’s license of Ernesto Curado. She spotted Theo and quickly hid the card behind her.

“So. Is this going to be a reconciliation or another fight?”

He took a weary perch on the cedar desk. “In the spirit of you and me, I think it’s going to be something in between.”

“I never lied to you, Theo. I told you from the start what I wanted.”

“Yes. You did. It’s my fault for not being able to handle it. But in retrospect, it was silly for us to think we could have something casual in the middle of uncasual circumstances.”

“That’s exactly why I wanted it casual! I thought it’d be easier to enjoy each other without all the emotional baggage that comes with relationships. Why do I keep finding the few men on Earth who can’t grasp that concept?”

“I don’t know. Why do you keep resenting the fact that we want more than sex from you?”

She shook a brusque finger at him. “Don’t turn this into a head-shrink session. It won’t end well.”

“Then tell me what I can say right now.”

“To do what?”

“To end this well.”

She looked at him with pained surprise, then flicked a hand in surrender. “You want out? Fine. Abracadabra. We’re friends again. Frankly, I think this was a problem that needed a wrench, not a chainsaw. But I guess you have your own way of doing things.”

“I’m trying to avoid a bad situation for everyone,” he insisted. “The six of us are going to have to rely on each other, probably for the rest of our—”

She threw her book to the floor. “Look, you wanted an exit, you got one. But don’t pretend you’re leaving for noble reasons. You got scared. You bolted at the first sign of trouble. You don’t get to wear that as a feather in your cap!”