=== CURT ===

The world reasserted itself on the beach. I squinted in the bright, midday sun. Right. I hadn't accounted for the time zone differences. I looked around the beach for a moment. I was pretty much right below the balcony of the house. There was some broken glass and some obvious cleaning that had happened relatively recently. I snapped up to the balcony and looked around. The walls were mostly reinforced glass. Nothing short of an RPG would get through them. I studied it closely. The seal around the glass door was a lighter color than the ones around the window. So the door has been replaced recently. Okay. Still not technically proof that Cindi was here. In fact, it's kind of evidence against it. But this is definitely the same place as the blueprints. I snapped inside, and my glasses told me there was no signal inside the house. Signal jammer. Why would there be a signal jammer here? Hmm. That means a popper wouldn't work here. It relies on GPS signals. If one can't get through, it can't determine the source. Which is why I made the glasses. Without them, I'd be trapped here. Even still, I'm stuck to line-of-sight for now. That's going to complicate matters.

  I started walking around, doing my best to be quiet. I'm no Buck Cherry, but I'm also not bad at this. I went through several rooms. I found the art rooms that would undoubtedly be Cindi's focus. None of the pieces looked to be missing. Also, a strike against her being here. I started down a hall, and I heard a voice. I froze. "Come on, now. You should really eat something, my love."

I snuck closer, tried to glance into the room quickly, and then hid behind the wall. A severe-looking redhead was sitting at one end of the table. Hope Lesslier. I recognized her from the photos I had seen. I couldn't see the rest of the room. This place was vast and gaudy, and that made things difficult. The room had a few entrances, though. I brought up the blueprints of the house while hiding behind the wall. There's one right behind her. I might be able to sneak up on her from there. At least I'd get to see the rest of the roo-

  My thoughts were interrupted by the voice again. "Oh, it appears as though we have an unexpected guest. How droll. Come out now, Mr. Reese. I assume that's you in the hall."

  Fuck! Fuck, fuck fuck fuck. What should I do?

  "Come now, Mr. Reese. I know you're there. My security system informed me the instant you were on the balcony. I'd hate it if people thought I was a bad host. And I've been looking forward to . . . meeting you." I stepped into the room and looked around. Cindi was there. She looked like she hadn't slept much in the last week. And she was chained to the chair. The shackle had something on it. Probably an electroshock device. And she was shaking, and tears were running down her face. "And there he is. I must say, I can't see why you would choose him, my love. He's so . . . ordinary compared to us."

  "Curt, what are you doing here!?" Cindi demanded in a hoarse voice. I looked over at her. It took a lot of willpower not to rush to her.

  "Oh, you know, I was in the neighborhood. Decided to visit your wife."

  "Oh, so you knew we were married. Cindi insisted she was over me and hadn't told you because it didn't matter."

  "That she was married?" I asked. "Oh, well, you know how it is. You start dating someone, do some Googling to learn a little about them. I gotta say, though, I prefer your original name. Moore sounds so much more, if you'll pardon the pun, hopeful than Lesslier."

  "And is idle curiosity all that brought you here today?"

  "Mostly. I mean, that, and frankly, we have a wedding to plan, and I need Cindi's help. I'm absolutely lost without her."

  "Curt, you need to go! I'll handle this."

  "Oh, okay. Well, I didn't mean to interrupt dinner. Really I was just coming around to drop off a gift for you. An early wedding gift," I said and started towards her. I heard a gun cock.

  "Oh, that's okay. You can give it to me for her, Mr. Reese."

  "C'mon now, Hope. Curt, please. We're practically family," I said, turning back to her with a smile.

  "We're nothing," she said coldly, then seemed to reconsider with a shrug. "Well, you're nothing."

  I kept my eye trained on the gun she had pointed at me, putting my hands in my pockets. I had to be careful with how. Cindi might have a plan, but I also don't want to leave her in this situation. The least I can do is give her another tool and be a distraction.

  "Curt, you have to leave. I'll be fine," Cindi lied. She didn't lie to me often; she didn't have to, usually. But this was different. I looked back at her; the tears were still streaming down her cheeks. I sighed and shook my head, using the motion to disguise me, marking out a waypoint just above Cindi's lap but below the table. Hope shouldn't be able to see it. I turned to Hope and watched her as I opened up two portals in both pockets. It was delicate work. I had to be careful that the edges of my ingresses didn't clip through my pants. After all, I thought, it'd be awfully embarrassing to meet my fiancee's wife with holes in my pants, trying to keep my thoughts light. She was threatening the woman I loved. I gently put the two cases onto Cindi's lap.

  "Maybe Cindi is right. I'm intruding. I think I will leave."

  "Oh, you'll leave alright," Hope said. She fired her gun, and I dived out of the way. The bullet shattered a vase behind me. "Oh damn it! That was from the Ming Dynasty."

  "Maybe you shouldn't be shooting in here. There's lots of valuable stuff," I said, rolling into a crouch. I marked a waypoint just in front of her gun and opened a portal just in front of it. She fired, and the bullet went straight back into the barrel of the gun. It exploded in her hand, and she screamed, dropping the shredded metal.

  "God damn you!"

  "Doubt he will. He's a bit busy doing the non-existent thing," I retorted, dashing forward. She met me halfway, and I threw a punch. She caught my arm and twisted it. I felt my arm strain and start to crack. I bent with her motion to lessen the pressure, and she used her new leverage to pin my arm behind my back. I winced and tried to elbow her in the ribs with my other arm. She caught it and pulled it behind my back. I struggled for a moment, but I was outmatched. She was strong for her size and had me where she wanted. But I am Esvanir. I go wherever I want. I set several waypoints throughout the room and just started snapping between them. After the fourth snap, her grip loosened, and I tossed her off of me.

  Teleporting was really rough on the stomach for most people. It's a lot of lurching motion, and the body just wasn't made for it. I'm used to it. Cindi is mostly used to it. Noobs sometimes lose their lunch the first time. And usually, they don't do it that many times in a row. She stumbled to her feet. I teleported over to Cindi. She'd put on her rig, and I saw that it would need some adjustments. Her hand was a little smaller than I thought it was. I took out one of my batteries, slammed it onto the shackle, and activated it. With a puff of smoke, it shorted out the device, and Cindi immediately phased through it and flipped out of her chair and the clothes she was wearing.

  "Curt! Watch out!" I turned halfway just in time to see something fly at my head, and everything went black.

=== CHUCK ===

"We suspect the infamous thief, Curtis Reese, the Esvanir, is linked with a series of mysterious thefts happening all around the city." The chief of police was giving a statement to the press. "The list is ever-growing and includes several pieces of art, a bunch of technology from firms such as EnGin, WanEn, and a few museums. The thefts match how he has been known to steal things in the past. There are few or no traces left, and the thief seems able to get anywhere with relative ease. Given the events of his fight with local vigilantes, like Smash Gal and Professor Mind, he is considered armed and extremely dangerous."

  I watched the broadcast and shook my head at every word. I had been keeping track of the different thefts that were happening, and none of them felt like Esvanir. But, since he had knocked out an officer in his escape with his lawyer, who was probably just Buck Cherry in disguise, they wouldn't consider anyone but Esvanir. He was absurdly high on the FBI's Most Wanted list. But each of the crimes did seem related. Or at least most of them. Most recently, a museum had been hit, and several paintings had been stolen. Esvanir, to date, was only suspected in one other art theft done years ago. He was usually more interested in stealing from people he thought were currently wronging the world and had never discussed the nature of art theft. Though, given his fiancee, I somehow doubt he has a problem with it.

  I extended out a hand, and a 3D mental projection flickered into existence. It was the museum. It played back the footage of the theft. I had . . . convinced the security guard to let me see it before the police had taken it as evidence. The actual thief had picked a lock after hours and slipped in. I had seen the scratches on the door, and the camera had captured the door opening. Something Esvanir wouldn't need to do. There was no sign of someone going through the door. Why aren't the police using this? They had to have seen it. Five minutes later, there is movement on the other side of the museum. Whoever it was started drilling, which set off an alarm. This person quickened their pace, liberated the painting they wanted, put it on a dolly that had seemingly materialized out of nowhere, and made their escape. I replayed the part of the dolly appearing. It appeared from nowhere, dropped on the floor, and folded out to the full dolly they use. Is that how the one from EnGin worked? Seems like that's how they would handle it. If it is, it means that it's the same invisible thief. But why frame Esvanir? Is that the goal? Do they hate him, or is it a matter of convenience?

  I sat back and considered all of the details I had. An invisible thief targeted some of the same places Curtis Reese did. But also, some areas aren't his usual objectives. Reese hasn't denounced the claims, and the thief hasn't demanded credit. Could they be working together? No, one stolen items was scheduled to be donated to charity. I don't think that fits in with the pseudo-ethics that the self-professed Robin Hood would do. As arrogant as he is, I think he would balk at the idea of anything he thinks is as distasteful as that. I stopped, frowning for a moment. Then again, he did work for Marcelli and even rescued him from the police station. Then fled the country. I need to talk to someone who knows him. I stood up and started to look around for a moment. "I guess I should call Kari."

  "Why would you call me? I'm sitting right here." I jumped and started falling off the building I had been sitting on the edge of. Kari grabbed me. Which was completely unnecessary. I floated my way back up.

  "How long have you been there?"

  "Oh, like ten minutes."

  "But I didn't sense you at all."

  "You were distracted. Deep in thought about . . . something. I don't know. I'm not the mind reader."

  "But even so, almost no one can sneak up on me."

  "I've been getting better at thinking and feeling nothing. It's the practice that Ren is making me do when I'm not training with her."

  "Oh." I extended my mental sense, and it was true. Well, mostly. It wasn't that she was feeling nothing. It was that she was masking her emotions. And her thoughts. It was impressive. Especially since ordinarily, I would be able to know pretty much anything she was thinking if I wanted to. I still might be able to, but I couldn't just read it like a book anymore.

  "So, what's up? What were you going to call me for?" Kari asked, grinning. "Is it for an ice cream date?"

  "No, not exactly," I admitted. I felt a shift under the mask of her emotions. I couldn't detect what the change was, but I think she might've been disappointed. "We can do that, though. I just wanted to talk to you about . . . Esvanir."

  "Curt?" There was another shift in her. I felt the mask strain. "Oh. Okay. Sure. But you're paying. It's my consulting fee."

  "Okay," I replied, laughing."

  "And we're going somewhere expensive. Like that Gelato place."

  "Lead the way." She charged off, and I followed her. Thankfully she was going at a halfway reasonable speed. We landed a few minutes later, and she ordered something complicated with several flavors that I'd swear would never work together. I got something simple. Vanilla.

  "So, what do you want to know about Curt?" She asked. I extended my senses again, but her mask was back on and fully stable. I couldn't help but frown. Kari holding back this much . . . I don't know that that's a good thing.

  "So, the police chief was online saying he's still suspected of those strange thefts."

  "They're not him."

  "How can you be sure? Maybe he's changed his M.O. He did work for Marcelli." I saw her jaw tighten and her eyes narrow. I got the sense of rage just underneath the surface, and she took a few deep breaths.

  "That's. . . Not what it seemed."

  "What do you mean? Marcelli sicced him on you.”

  "Yeah . . . well . . . You may have the ability to read minds, but I heard Marcelli the night he . . . got away. M-Marcelli . . .” She hesitated for a few moments, taking a few bites of her dessert. "Marcelli was threatening Cherry."

  "How do you know?"

  "I heard Marcelli say it when he was talking to his lawyer. And it makes sense."

This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

  "How so?"

  "Well, for one, when Marcelli sicced him on me, Curt said that he wasn't doing this for himself. And he seemed scared. Then later . . . the conversation I overheard. Marcelli was threatening Cherry somehow. And if I know one thing about Curt . . . He'd do anything for someone he cared about."

  "That . . . makes sense," I muttered as I contextualized. The fight on the night that Esvanir helped Marcelli made sense. He was emotionally raw that day. He had spent at least a few weeks thinking the woman he loved would die at the hands of someone who would do it. Then Kari and I blow in, and Kari almost kills her. And he just snapped. Curt wasn't being the careful thief he typically is. He was out for blood.

  "So, yeah. That's why Curt went as far as he did that night. These other thefts? Nah. Don't get me wrong. If Curt wanted to, he could've stolen that stuff. It would have been easy. Whoever this person is, they're not Curt. They're not as . . . good as he is. At least at being a thief." I stared down into my slowly melting gelato. I took a few spoonfuls, considering.

  "Hmm. Do you think they have a connection?"

  "No idea. Sorry. I'm not so good at thinking these things through. There's a reason that I arrive on the scene and punch things. All the people I go after are either immediately breaking the law or running away shortly after that."

  "I think you're selling yourself a little short, there."

  "Maybe. Still, it's weird, right?"

  "What is?"

  "The police are really convinced that it's Curt. Even though it's pretty obvious, it's not. Don't get me wrong, I want to catch Curt too. He and Cherry should go down for everything they've done and probably then some. But not things he didn't do."

  "Yeah, that is weird." We ended our little ice cream excursion after that, and I considered all the places this thief had hit as I flew around the city. I think I know where they're going to strike next.

=== CINDI ===

I watched Hope slam a metal baton into Curt's neck. I watched Curt go down. My Curt! That bitch! He's mine. No one has the right to treat anything I own like that! Hope rose and brushed herself off and grimaced at her bleeding hand. The gun had exploded in her hand.

  "Well, now. I must admit, he is more impressive than I thought. Sit back down," Hope ordered. I didn't move. "Come now, my love."

  I looked down at my hand. When I had first met Curt, I had considered stealing his tech. Becoming unstoppable. But he never gave me a chance to. I had looked for it for a while after I had exhausted him. After our first few times together, I had given up. He knew who I was. I disappeared, and when I returned, he didn't ask where I had been or who I had been with. He just asked for some help on a job and offered me fifty percent. I put on the glasses he gave me, and my eyes went wide. There was so much information constantly running through them. These little glasses identified air pressure, power sources in the room, faces and even came up with little profiles for them when I focused on things. I accidentally selected some spots with some subtle eye movement. It was so much. Oh, my little Curt. My Essy. You are amazing. Being able to deal with all this all the time. Being able to process all of this information all the time. Hope had started walking towards me.

  "Come now, Cind. You don't think you'll actually get away. I have a hostage now."

  "And you think I care?"

  "Oh, I know you care, Cindi. You tried to get him to run away from me. Because you know what I'll do to him. What I'll do to keep you. It's a shame he was too stupid to listen." She reached out to grab me, and I went intangible. My glasses started to fall through my nose, and I panicked, but they stopped. And the little bracelet that he made me hadn't moved at all. That's. . . weird. I slipped out of her grip. And went through her. She spun and produced a taser, aimed it at me, and fired; I jumped above the lines and flew over them. She gritted her teeth, replaced the barbs, and aimed at me again. Then grinned and aimed lower. She pointed the taser gun at Curt. I gulped and tried to dive down. My eyes focused on the weapon, and I accidentally selected it. That's right; I can just steal one of his tricks. She fired. I snapped my fingers, and a portal popped up before the electrified lines. I looked up at her face and a portal opened in front of it. The barbs flew out, and she tried to dodge, but they caught her on the cheek, and she convulsed and shuddered under the voltage.

  I landed next to Curt and leaned over him. I started trying to cycle through the different menus, but I found it confusing. Eventually, I opened a map on the glasses, but they couldn't find my position. I sighed and took them off. I returned to the chair, grabbed the cute little case he had crafted for them, and put them away, gathering the clothes I had left behind. I looked down at the gold bracelet he had made me. It was a match to the silver one he wore all the time. The portals disappeared and left Hope with her taser lines cut in two. She was unconscious. Maybe worse. But I focused on Curt. I lifted his head, and there was a nasty welt. I managed to raise him and carried him to the art room. My idol was back in its case. I didn't have any of my tools or any way of opening the case again. I sighed. I guess I was going to have to let it go this time. Curt stirred next to me and sat up. His eyes were barely focused, and his glasses were askew. I looked at him. He hadn't been sleeping. Neither had I. He winced and looked around. His sharp blue eyes focused on the idol above him.

  "Is that it?" He asked weakly.

  "Yeah."

  "What are we waiting for?"

  "Don't have a way of getting it."

  "You're the Buck Cherry," he responded, struggling to his feet. His eyes met mine. I couldn't look away.

  "And you're always the first to say never to underestimate someone who knows you're coming. Hope beat me. And you."

  "The fuck she did. Well, she surely beat me. But not you." He snapped his finger twice, and the idol fell through the case and appeared in his hand. He pushed it into my hand, and I stared at it. The tiny idol's eyes bored back into my own. I held it to my chest and turned back to Curt as he limped away.

  "Where are you going?"

  "We got your thing. I got a concussion. I'm kind of done with our little vacation to the Hampdens."

  "Well, we can't leave yet."

  "Why not?"

  "She . . . She's got your Poppers. And your batteries." He froze and then sighed heavily.

  "Do you have any idea of where she's keeping them?"

  "No."

  "Fuck!" He started making his way back to the dining room. I dashed to keep up with him.

  "So," I said, not looking at him.

  "Yeah, what's up?"

  "Took you a long time to get here. Seven whole days. W-was it this?" I lifted my hand and spread my fingers. The little bracelet and its handpiece covering the back of my hand shifted.

  "Nope. Wasn't that," he replied simply.

  "Then what kept you?"

  "I . . . I didn't think you were in trouble for the first couple of days. Hell, I wasn't convinced you were in trouble until I got here."

  "I was gone for a week!" I shouted.

  "Yeah, and you've disappeared for months before. I . . . I thought you might've realized . . . I thought you were having second thoughts." This time I stopped and stared at him. My chest hurt. I stared at him, and he stopped and looked back. He looked saddened by the thought. By the admission. Realized?

  "You thought I realized what, Curt!?" I demanded. It was hard to keep the hurt from my voice.

  "Can we just drop this?" He asked in a small voice. "I was wrong."

  "No, we can't drop this. I need to know what goes on in that thick head of yours." He smiled; he actually smiled. And chuckled. I'm going to kill him!

  "You've been spending too much time around Des, Cher." He stared at the wall in front of him, pointedly not meeting my eye. "I thought you may have realized that marrying me is . . . a bad idea. That I don't deserve you."

  "Oh," I said. I stared down at my feet for a moment and shook my head. "You're a fucking idiot, Curtis Reese!"

  "Again, too much time with Des."

  "The good doctor is right. You're an idiot."

  "And how am I being stupid this time?"

  "Love isn't about worthiness or deservingness. And neither is marriage. And besides, as you said earlier. I am Buck fucking Cherry. I decide who I want in my life. And you." I closed the distance between us and took his hand into mine. "You are Esvanir. Firstly, we are a power couple of the greatest thieves on earth. You are the smartest person I know when you're not letting your ridiculous self-doubt get the better of you. You are sure that you can steal anything not nailed down and a fair amount of things actually nailed down. If I gave you a week, you could have the nuclear codes of every country in the world."

  "All of that is just planning. And that's easy," my fiance muttered defensively. But he didn't let go of my hand. In fact, his grip tightened. Not painfully. It was comforting, especially after a week with Hope. She made me sleep in the same bed as her. But I was shackled to the frame; I shuddered at the thought. I couldn't close my eyes without seeing the faces of my old crew. And the fact that I knew she could murder me.

  "And this is just marriage. Something that millions of people do all day with no trouble. And you think it's too much for you."

  "Not exactly."

  "Then what?"

  "I'm just afraid I won't be able to make you happy."

  "Make me happy?" I considered that for a moment. We started walking again. Hope was gone; Curt sighed. "What do you think I need to be happy?"

  "I don't know. A castle? The moon?" I laughed at him. He rolled his eyes and started glancing around. "She's gotta be around here somewhere. Unless she ran out to get help."

  "She didn't. I don't need those things. If I did, I would have married the men offering them."

  "And instead, you're marrying America's Most Wanted Petty Thief," he responded absently. "Where do you think she went then?"

  "She's getting a weapon. Or weapons. I want adventure and freedom. And you're always capable of both." I responded. "But all of this raises a bigger question."

  "Oh? Like what kind of weapon? She nearly killed me once already. And dislocated my shoulder, I think."

  "Yeah, she'll do that." I waved my hand absently. "But the bigger question is if you thought I was leaving you. That you'd never see me again . . . Then why give me this? To track me?"

  He looked at me and my raised hand, then shook his head. "No, nothing like that. I was going to encrypt your location so that you could only be found if you wanted to be."

  "What? But when I asked for one before, you said no."

  "Yeah, I did." He started making his way over to the next room and leaned around the corner. Apparently, it was clear because he went through and started off. I caught up to him.

  "Then why?"

  "Because I wanted you to have it. That way . . . even if you were off doing your own thing, you might at least remember some of the good times." He leaned over and dived back when a bullet crashed into the spot where his head just was. "Preferably one of the times I'm not being shot at."

  He grabbed my hand, and we disappeared and reappeared in the middle of the room. There was a spray of gunfire, and this time I took over. I clenched his hand, and we went insubstantial. We flew through the air slowly. The firing stopped, and we landed, and he started dashing after the figure. From around the corner, something bounced off of the ground. Curt snapped his finger, which fell through a portal and went back around the corner. It exploded in a bright flash of light, and he charged forward, almost slipping on the hardwood floor. I watched this man, who had a concussion, who was arguing with his fiancee about whether she was staying with him. The man who managed to keep a clear enough head to teleport a grenade back at the thrower. If anyone is worthy of me, it's definitely him. And it's not like he has a choice. He already belongs to me.

  "She's mine, Reese! I'll kill you and take her back!" I watched his demeanor change at that moment. I hadn't gotten used to the look he gets in his eyes sometimes. The look he had only ever directed at me twice. The first time was when I was in his apartment unannounced. The second was when he thought I had betrayed him to Marcelli. He charged down the hall, and I heard gunfire. He's going to get himself killed. That can't happen. Not now. I ran after him and watched him slide through bullets slamming all around him. He dove and thudded heavily on the floor before her, grabbed the gun, and kicked her in the stomach. She stumbled back. She was strong, but he was heavier. He snapped his finger, and a portal popped into existence over her hand. It tightened around her wrist, and she tried to pull it free, but the quickly rotating energy started to cut through her flesh, and her own blood started to drip down her hand, which was about a foot to the side of her. She reached down and grabbed another gun with her other hand. Curt lunged forward, disarmed her, and threw that hand back; it was also caught in a portal. She struggled against her bonds, cutting deeper into her flesh.

  "I'd stop that, were I you," he said simply. "After all, Smash Gal only barely kept her limbs, and you've pissed me off almost as much as she did then."

  "Is . . ." Hope struggled to speak, but she did stop her attempts. "Is this what you want, Cindi? I thought you . . . were uncomfortable . . . with all of this . . . violence?"

  Curt looked at me, softened some, and sighed. "I'm not going to speak for her. I can't do that."

  "Because you don't understand her. You don't really know her."

  Curt winced at the words but clenched his fist. "Maybe. Maybe not. But I know I don't own her, so I'm ahead of you there."

She spat in his face, and he wiped it off slowly.

  "And that's really the difference here between you and I, Hope," he said, staring at his hand. "I don't want to own her. I want her to be around me, sure. But I'll never force her to be. Because more than me wanting her to be around, I want her to be happy."

  "She'd be happier with me."

  "Considering she ran away from you, I don't think so."

  "And she's never run away from you before?" He looked away from her. "That's what I thought. She came back to me."

  "No, Hope. No, I didn't. I came back for this," I said, holding up the idol.

  "And I knew you wanted it."

  "So you set a trap. Hardly the same thing. Curt has never tried to trap me."

  "Then he's a fool." Curt laughed at her. Openly. And she tried to swing on him but winced and relaxed. "What are you laughing at, you moronic . . . man?"

  "Oh, I'm definitely stupid," he admitted. He walked around the desk. We had made it into my ex-wife's office. He looked around for a while, found the duffel bag, and hefted it onto the desk. "But I also know my limitations. You don't seem to. How many Poppers were here?"

  "Just the four. Is there a case in there?" He put it on the desk. I opened it and put the idol in it.

  "You think you're better than me, Reese? She'll leave you just like she did me."

  "I hope not. But if she does, she'll be happy."

  "You're an idiot. And I'll get my revenge! I'll kill you!" I stepped in front of her and slammed the back of my hand into her jaw. She rocked back and went limp.

  "Don't talk to my fiancé like that." I met his eyes and then looked down. "My fiancé who is bleeding. Again."

  "Oh, so I am. Huh."