=== CINDI ===

I was in the Acolytes’ hideout, walking around and watching people. All of the eyes were on me, as they should be. I was clothed, showing that I wasn’t here for a fight or anything else. Except for shoes. I can’t stand the things. Curt had gone galavanting somewhere before I woke up, but that’s fine. It allowed me to introduce myself to our new organization. Crowley was awake and not thrilled with the events, but he couldn’t stop us. Pinikir stretched out her consciousness in my mind, and I felt great. There were hundreds of Acolytes, though most were much more casual than the most die-hard. And many held my Curt in high regard. As they should. And this gave us an excellent opportunity. We could use these people. Curt could do his charity work and change the world, and I could train them to be proper thieves. They will hang off my every word and listen to my every direction. As is proper. That thought felt a little strange in my head, but it wasn’t incorrect.

  I did notice a few sidelong glances from people who were not as thrilled with my presence as they should be. But they will learn. My musings were interrupted as I got a call.

My Curt

[https://pbs.twimg.com/media/Fz5deGZagAA0bW3?format=png&name=360x360]

Accept | Decline

Strange, I thought. Curt hates calling people. He’d text but never called anyone if he had a choice. Especially now that he can text with his eyes. I always chose to test his patience by forcing him to take my calls. It was just one of the little games I played. Though this gives me a chance to set Acolyte’s expectations appropriately. “Esvanir, darling. We’re missing you here. Mister Crowley is desperate to hear your new ideas for their direction.”

  “H-hey, Buck Cherry,” Curt began. I frowned. Something’s off. He continued a little more confidently. “Could you meet me somewhere? I-I need your help.”

I thought I could hear another voice before he disconnected, but I couldn’t be sure. I frowned at the phone for a moment. That had not gone the way I wanted. I called over one of the Acolytes, “You, come here.”

  The young man bounded up to me, gulping, as I took out the cute little case Curt had made me. “H-how can I help you, Miss Buck Cherry?”

  “I have to be somewhere. Keep these safe for me,” I said as I pulled off the blouse I wore through my chest, and my pants fell to the wayside. He gaped, and I grinned.

  “Wh-where are you going?” He asked, trying and failing to avert his eyes. And who could blame him?

  “If my instincts are right, and they almost always are, to war.” I strapped on the bracelet and gingerly fit my middle finger into its casing before putting the contacts in. My husband’s UI started identifying things around the room, targeting them. It made special note of the guns in the room. But none of that mattered. I snapped and the world shifted. I recognized the cityscape I arrived at. Avalare. I was on a roof. Smash Gal, Doctor Berry, and Curt were standing there. But he wasn’t looking at me right. He was wary, maybe even scared. His eyes darted around. And when they fell on me, they didn’t linger. Pinikir stirred inside of me. THAT IS NOT OUR PET. I flexed my hand instinctively. She was right. Curt hadn’t looked at me like that since the first night we met.

=== FLASHBACK ===

I was doing a job. I had already stolen and sold my Cherries. And that had netted me a healthy profit. But the problem with profit is that once you have it, all you can do is spend it. And I had. And I was bored. I was in Avalare as a layover to the west coast. I had hours before my flight. So, I was lazily scrolling my phone in the terminal, waiting for something to do. And that’s when I saw something interesting. It was a headline that read Avalare Museum Security Upgraded Just in Time for Middle East Exhibit. I read on in the article. The museum director had been interviewed and had said, “With these new anti-meta security measures, I feel confident in saying that no one could possibly break into the museum.”

  Men are so silly. Always thinking they’d made an unsinkable ship. An unbreachable city. An unrobbable museum. It’s adorable, really. So, I left the airport and caught a cab to the newest additions to my collection. It was like almost every other one in the world. Built to be huge and heavy. To handle the weight of all of the cultures they’ve stolen from. The impressive marble harkened back to Ancient Greece and Rome. The only histories that Americans respected. I walked through the front door, my clothes hanging loosely off the outer handle. Floating, I swam through the halls, looking at the different displays. I did encounter a guard, but his knees were weak when he saw me. And weaker still when I touched him.

  I found the Middle East exhibit quickly enough. I couldn’t help but read the little inscriptions. They were always so interesting. Most of them weren’t wholly inaccurate, but as with everything designed for public consumption, a lot of nuance was missing. What was more interesting was that I recognized some of the artifacts. I had excavated some of them. With Hope. It’s incredible how often stolen artifacts end up in museums. I slid my hands through the glass surrounding a jeweled crown and took it out of its case. It was gold with beautifully cut sapphires pressed in. I smiled at my distorted reflection. I didn’t have much else I could take easily. And really, this proves them wrong. I pushed my hair down before my eyes and spread my body open for the cameras, flaunting the crown. A wedding gift to a long-dead queen. And it was now mine.

  I started navigating my way out. I could’ve gone straight up, but I did take a little more time looking at the displays. History and gorgeous art intermingled. Then there was a strange sound behind me. A soft pop. And a man in a mask was stalking down the hall. How’d he get here? His footsteps were loud, so there was no way he could’ve possibly snuck up on me. He hadn’t seemed to notice me either. He made his way down to a series of paintings and sat down a bag in front of one of them. I watched him dig through it. He brought out a drill and a series of strange little plates with clips on the back. I frowned at him. He was just about to start drilling into the wall when I said. “Oh, darling, I wouldn’t do that.”

  He jumped and spun on a heel. His mask had a large hole in the eyes. He was wearing strange glasses, but behind those, he had sharp, blue eyes. They were wide with fear. Precisely how I like my men. But after a moment, he took a few deep breaths and shook his head, returning to his work. In a gruff, annoyed voice, he said, “Get out of here, Buck Cherry.”

  “Oh, so you know me. How cute. But that raises a question. Who are you?”

=== PRESENT DAY ===

I watched my husband put more distance between us. Something he’d never done before. His eyes were wide, and he actually put Smash Gal in between us. Smash Gal, to her credit, didn’t stand in my way. Anger stirred deep into my chest. I flexed my fingers and walked forward, past her, past Professor Mind. “Essy, my love, why are we here? Why are you with them?”

  “B-Buck Cherry. I needed their help. They were the only ones I could think of going to,” he lied. My husband doesn’t lie to me. He’d never be stupid enough to do that. I looked at Smash Gal, who watched Curt; her face was stony and not giving away much. I could read Professor Mind’s face. He was troubled, maybe even concerned.

  “Who is this? This isn’t Curt.”

  “Well,” the psychiatrist began in that condescending tone that was meant to be comforting. “It isn’t, and it is.”

  “Doctor, I don’t mean to question your intelligence. I would appreciate it if you didn’t doubt mine.” My voice was a dangerous whisper. Smash Gal scoffed. I raised a brow at her.

  “Don’t look at me like that. I’ve already taken you down twice. I can do it again.” My anger pooled with Pinikir’s indignation. WE SHOULD SHOW HER WHAT YOU’VE BECOME NOW THAT YOU’RE WHOLE. Her voice resonated throughout me. And I wanted to. I almost did. No, not now. Curt first. Then we can take it out on her. I tried to ease both of the fires burning in my chest. HE IS A VALUABLE SUBJECT, BUT AS WITH ALL MORTALS, HE IS REPLACEABLE. I clenched my fist and straightened my back, turning it inwards. He is not! He is mine and mine alone. No one can do anything to him without my permission. And anyone who tries to take my property from me will fall. Pinikir’s presence had died down in me a little. Her anger was still present but under control. And there was something new. Pleasure? She didn’t say anything else.

  “Smash Gal,” I began gently. She met my gaze. “You have tried to kill me several times, and up until now, I’ve been an excellent sport about it.” I turned to face her fully. She was taller than I was. Especially when she was floating. But that didn’t matter. “But if you think I’m going to let you hurt my husband again in any way, my goodwill towards you and your boyfriend ends. And you will learn what a cunt I can really be. Now, someone better starts explaining why my husband is treating me like I’m a bomb, ready to go off. Like h-he doesn’t trust me!”

=== FLASHBACK ===

“Who are you?”

  “Just another thief. I’ve read somewhere that there’s honor among us. So, honor me, and leave me alone.” He pressed his drill into the wall.

  “So, you don’t know how to listen. A shame. Good boys know how to listen.”

  “I am quite literally a thief. I’m actively committing a crime. I am definitionally not a good boy.” I giggled at him. I couldn’t help it. He was just so terribly adorable.

  “Perhaps, Mister Thief. But you’re about to set off the alarm.”

  “I . . . I know. But I don’t have a choice.”

  “And why is that?”

  “Have to get this to its owner by . . . 25 minutes from now. Fuck. Could you go? You’re distracting me.”

  “Me?” I asked, pressing a hand to my bare chest as I floated before him. His eyes flickered over me, and he purposefully looked away. “How could I ever distract you?”

  “Has anyone ever told you that you’re annoying?” That gave me pause. No man could resist me. Well, no straight man. And everything about this man seemed straight. He went back to his work and drilled into the wall. The vibrations set off the alarms, just as I had tried to warn him. Heavy glass doors slammed down, trapping us in the museum. Well, trapping him. It was time to go. I floated over to one of the glass panes and pushed through it. But there was a buzz of electricity coursing through it. I collapsed onto the ground and took several deep breaths as I became solid again. I turned back to the thief, glaring. He wasn’t paying me any mind. He had pulled out a wire and attached one of his little plates to it. The blue-eyed man pressed the button in the middle. And nothing happened. He frowned, muttering to himself, “Hmm. Maybe it’s a dummy line? Or they have some extra protections against power surges.”

  A hissing noise started coming from above, which got his attention. He looked around and sighed. I followed his gaze. Several spouts on the ceiling sprayed some thick, gray gas into the room. “What is that?”

  “Knockout gas,” he said, turning back to the painting.

  “Knockout gas? In a museum?”

  “Part of the security overhaul. The parent company has had several . . . issues with metas and has made it standard practice.”

  “Is it dangerous?”

  “That depends. Do you need to breathe?” He asked curtly. I rolled my eyes, then pursed my lips at him.

  “You don’t seem worried about it.”

  “I’m not,” he replied simply.

  “But I presume you, Mister Thief, need to breathe.”

  “Yep.”

  “Which means you have an escape plan.”

  “So, you’re not just a pretty face.” His tone was drenched in sarcasm.

  “Aw. I think you’re cute, too.” I made my way over to him. It was starting to get foggy in the room. The gas was filling up fast. He wasn’t panicking at all, but I was barely keeping myself together. The walls of the room seemed to be closing in. The air felt heavy. But I can’t let him know I’m desperate. “So, what’s this plan of yours?”

He watched me momentarily, then returned to his chosen painting. “I’ve heard about you. You can phase through things, right?”

  “That’s one of my abilities.”

  “But not the glass pane over there. Was it the material or the electrical current that they’re running through it?”

  “You’re asking a lot of questions, but you haven’t answered mine.” I wrapped an arm around his neck and leaned into him, my legs a little weak. My vision was swimming. He looked down at my arm and then over to me. “That’s awfully rude of you, Mister Thief.”

  “You want to get out of here. I can do that. But I need your help. And we have about a minute before we’re both unconscious.”

  “What did you have in mind?”

  “The frame of this painting is bound to the wall. Can you phase the painting through the lock?”

  “Is that all?” I asked. I wobbled over to the painting and pressed my hands to the frame. For the first time, I looked up at it. It was of a young woman. 19th Century German, from the look of it. I gripped it and phased and started floating up. The painting came loose. But it was heavier than I thought. Or I was out of breath. And I fell back to the floor, painting in hand, becoming solid again. Something caught me. I looked up, and it was Mister Thief. He grabbed the crown and fit it onto my head.

  He then lifted his hand and snapped. And our surroundings shifted. And I felt like I’d come to a sudden and rough stop. My stomach lurched, and my head swam. I had to close my eyes for a moment to settle down. When I opened them again, I took in my surroundings. We were outside the museum, on the steps leading to the building. The man had the painting and was looking at the frame. His movements were clumsy and heavy. But it seems like he found what he was looking for. He flipped a knife open before cutting out a small black dot off the frame. He threw the piece on the ground and crushed it under his shoe. “What was that?”

  “Lo-jack,” he said before standing up. “Can you get out on your own?”

  “No, not that. How . . .” My eyes traced him for a moment. He won’t explain anything to me. Didn’t even give me a name. I tried to stand up, but between the shock and whatever that gas was, my head was fuzzy. And more importantly, I was curious. So, I played it up. “I-I don’t think so. You . . . You’re not going to leave me here alone, are you?” He hesitated, checking his phone for a moment. I could see the gears in his head turning.

  “I have somewhere to be.” His voice was gruff when he said it, and he started to move away. Then he hesitated. “Put your clothes on. I’ll deal with what I need to. You will not say a word. Then, I’ll get you wherever you need to be.” I smiled at him and did so. He didn’t watch me get dressed. I couldn’t be sure with his little mask, but I think he was blushing. “I-I need to touch you to . . .”

  “Do your little disappearing act,” I whispered in his ear as I wrapped my arms around him. He stiffened and took a few deep breaths. Then he lifted his hand. There was a strange metal bracelet on it that covered his hand and his middle finger and thumb. He snapped, and everything changed again. I felt like I was being thrown about in a tornado. But he was completely stable. In less than a blink of an eye, we were somewhere else. The entire landscape changed. We were on a boat somewhere. Meaning we were at the coast. I glanced around and saw that we were still in Avalare. But we traveled ten miles in an instant. Fascinating. I need one. There were people with guns aiming their sights at us. I smiled brightly.

  “Please don’t shoot. You’ll damage the painting,” Mister Thief said.

  “You’re late,” a woman said from the door leading inside the lounge of this yacht. “And you brought a date.”

  “This is my associate. I . . . needed an extra helping hand.”

  “I’m not paying extra. I shouldn’t have to pay at all.”

  “Of course, you’re not paying more. He agreed to pay me out of his cut, isn’t that right, my associate?” I said, putting my hands on his shoulders. Mister Thief grunted in agreement and pulled away from me, walking into the lounge.

  “Well, let’s see it,” the woman said. The man carefully put the painting on the sofa, and the woman examined it. A tear leaked from her eye. “You really did it. Just as they said, you could.” She sobered some. “Though, I guess you needed help.”

  “Well, yeah. I’m sorry about that. Uh.”

  “Oh, I didn’t do much. Mostly he just wanted someone to talk to. He’s very talkative, don’t you think?” The man glared at me, and the woman laughed.

  “Yeah. He’s told me his whole life story.” She pulled out a briefcase and put it on the table. He went to it and opened it as the woman went back to her painting. “I’m so glad to have Granddad’s work back. We never thought we’d get it back after the Nazis stole it and carted him off to the camps.” He nodded as he counted one of the bundles of bills pressed into the case. From the look of it, there was around 2 million dollars in the case.

  “I’m glad I could help.” He closed the case and started to leave.

  “Wait a damn minute!” He froze. “You damaged it!”

  “I-what?” He turned back. She had turned to look at the back and had noticed the chip he’d put in it when he’d removed the tracker. “Oh. Yeah. There was a”

  “A gash! You were so busy chatting up the girl that you chipped my grandfather’s magnum opus! And you, you little thief, weren’t even going to mention it.”

  “Well, I-”

  “Just take the money and run! All that talk about what an honorable thief you are, and you tried to pass this off!” She spoke fast, and I watched him try to speak up and explain it, but she wouldn’t listen to a word from him. “What kind of discount am I getting for this? I think 50% is fair.”

  “I need this money. I hav-”

  “I don’t give a damn. You’re trying to pass off damaged goods.”

  “Oh, miss. That’s not at all what he’s trying to do,” I jumped in, closing the distance.

  “Oh? Then what do you call this?” She gestured to the little nick in the frame.

  “That was him protecting you. The museum had marred your grandfather’s painting with a tracker, and he removed it so that they couldn’t try to take it back and so that you could have it restored properly. If you like, I know several antiquities experts who can do that for you for a fair price.”

  “The museum did that, huh?”

  “Yeah, There was a tracker,” he murmured in agreement. The woman looked between the two of us a few times before nodding her head.

  “Well, you should’ve really said something.”

  “O-of course, ma’am. I just wasn’t thinking.”

  “Well, go on then. You have your money.” He left the lounge without another word. I took a moment to take out my phone and ensure that location services were turned on. Then I caught up with him and threw my arms around him. One of my hands slipped over his slacks, and I dropped my phone through the fabric. He was so distracted with me pressed up against him that he didn’t even have a chance to notice.

  “Where to next?”

  “Where am I taking you?” He asked. I frowned. He had the opportunity to spend the night with the Buck Cherry and wanted me gone immediately.

  “The airport. I have a flight I need to catch.”

=== PRESENT DAY ===

“So, you expect me to believe that my husband’s consciousness has been swapped by an alternate version who married you.” I pointed to Smash Gal. “With all due respect, that has to be the stupidest thing any of you has ever said.”

  “Why is it so unbelievable!?” The giant woman demanded.

  “Oh, I don’t know. What about the fact that different dimensions exist? And that we can just connect to them; how again?”

  “I think that when the other me Ego Drained him while you were doing your disabling trick, it may have crossed lines and resulted in this.”

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  “Why the hell would that happen?”

  “Who the hell cares!?” Curt demanded. “We need to fix it. I need to get back to my dimension. Where things make sense.”

  “Where things . . .” I trailed off, my heart sinking. I had known Curt for six years now. And he’d been mine for that entire time. He just didn’t realize it until this woman had tried to take him from me. In more ways than one, apparently.

=== FLASHBACK ===

I spent a few days out of the States but watched my phone’s location until it disappeared. I don’t know where it disappeared to. But I had noted the three places he’d taken it to before it did so. He’d spent hours at the last one. That’s probably where he stays. He’s not very careful for a thief, but then again, with an ability like that, I don’t know that he needs to be. I had tried to puzzle out how he did that. Well, I don’t think it’s from an ancient Middle Eastern statue. When I returned to the States, I decided to visit him. If I could get my hands on that little toy of his, I’d be unstoppable. I found the place he’d spent a lot of time in before the phone went dead. It was an apartment building. I spent a bit of time searching before I found his apartment. The place was sparsely decorated. What furniture there was had been supplied by the building itself, with the exception of the bed, which was unmade. He could abandon this place without a second thought. Well, at least he already has the attitude of a thief.

  No one was home when I got there. So, I made myself a cup of coffee. He only has instant. Americans are incapable of taking their time with anything. It was hours before he got home, and I fell asleep on his bed. It was relatively comfortable. The sound of the door opening woke me up. I slipped through the mattress and down to the floor below, swimming through the air, and observed him momentarily. I needed to know if he was the kind of guy to notice someone had been here. And to see how he reacts if he is. I saw his face for the first time. I had definitely found the right place. He wasn’t wearing the glasses but had those same focused blue eyes. His face was thin and all sharp angles. He looked tired and pale with black hair that was unkempt but clean. I watched him cycle through his mail for a moment before he stopped. He looked over to the coffee pot that was still half full. His eyes fell on the coffee cup on the table. He opened his leather jacket, took out his glasses, and took several soft steps as he gazed around corners. He got out the little bracelet he wore, fitting it carefully on his hand. So, that’s where he keeps it. I came up from the floor behind him and wrapped an arm around his neck. “Is this how you treat a guest?”

  “Wha-” He jumped and tried to pull away, but I am very capable of holding on to what I want. He looked over his shoulder and relaxed a little. “Buck Cherry. What are you doing here?”

  “I came for my cut.”

  “Your cut? What are you talking about?”

  “That woman was going to take 50%. I stopped her. Therefore, that 50% seems to rightfully be mine.”

  “You want 50% of the fee.”

  “I’d settle for one of those cute little bracelets you wear. I think it’d go with my outfit, don’t you think?” I asked, gesturing to myself. Until now, he’d done an admirable job looking me in the eye, something few men were very good at. I made sure that my body was nice enough to make it incredibly difficult. But his eyes did trace down me before he caught himself and looked away.

  “I . . . Could you get dressed while we discuss this?” He asked nervously.

  “I never discuss business from a weak position. Best to make my offers hard to refuse.” I laid my charm on thick. I figured I could just distract the man and steal the bracelet if I wanted to. He took a few deep breaths and then turned his back to me, snapping. A rotating blue circle, the size of a saucer, opened up, and he reached in and retrieved something from it. He set it down on the table, pulled out a seat, and then sat opposite it, gesturing to the chair. He was pointedly looking me in the face again.

  “What’s this?” I asked, narrowing my eyes.

  “You said this is a negotiation. Well, let’s negotiate.” I walked over and sat in the chair he’d offered. I’d dealt with thieves before, and this wasn’t how it usually went. I glanced down at what he’d set down on the table. It was my phone. “I take it that’s how you found me.”

  “Well, I could’ve asked for your number, but you were already so skittish with how forward I am.”

  “Yeah,” he laughed, smiling. This was the first time I’d seen him do that. And it was infectious. I found myself smiling back. “Breaking into my house is much less invasive. 50% seems like a lot for a conversation.”

  “Well, I also helped you get it off the wall.” He nodded, considering. I gestured to his hand, which had the bracelet on it. “What about one of those?”

  “No. I’m sorry,” Mister Thief said simply. Then he grinned. “I really think it would clash with your . . . minimalist aesthetic. And besides, if this becomes too common, more people will figure it out and start looking for the signal. Making it harder to do what needs to be done. How about 30%? I did most of the work, and if I hadn’t, you’d have been caught.”

  “Caught? Me? The only reason I was ever at risk of being caught was because you tripped the alarm.”

  “Oh. I guess that’s true.” He pursed his lips, his eyes unfocusing. They unfocused on my chest, but I couldn’t blame a man for looking. He realized where his eyes were and met mine again sheepishly. “Uh. H-how do these things normally get solved?”

  “What? What do you mean?”

  “Well, I see your point. If I hadn’t been there, you’d have been in and out without any trouble. But I guess I messed that up.” He paused to think about it for a moment. “But you already had your thing. You could’ve left before I did anything and have been fine. Why didn’t you?”

  “I saw you. I wanted to know what you were doing.”

  “You were curious?”

  “Wouldn’t you be? Someone decided to hit the same museum at the same time you did.”

  “I . . . Don’t usually do museum jobs. Didn’t think anyone would be there.”

  “Obviously. So, I trailed you. And then you made a mistake.”

  “Yeah, I thought I could short the security system and the wall locks. But they had protected against that.”

  “Is that what you were doing with the little plate?”

  “Yeah. It works on most security systems.”

  “Who taught you how to do this?”

  “Uh. YouTube.”

  “You learned how to teleport from YouTube? And you’re worried that the secret’s already out there.”

  “No, I learned how to override security systems from YouTube. And some other places.”

  “You learned how to be an art thief from YouTube.” I laughed. And he started blushing and sputtering. Which only made me laugh harder. Here I was, naked in front of him, extorting him, and he was blushing because I made fun of him. “How cute.”

  “Yeah, well . . . Do you have a counteroffer?”

  “If I can’t have your cute bracelet, then I want half.”

  “Why do you want my rig so badly?”

  “With my abilities and teleportation, I would be the greatest thief in the world. I would be unstoppable.”

  “Aren’t you already?” He asked somberly.

  “What?”

  “Aren’t you already the world’s greatest thief? Unstoppable? Like, the world has seen almost all of you. People are obsessed. Everyone in the English-speaking world knows your name. Yet you can still just get on a plane and walk around like normal. Even if you’re caught, it’s for what? Two minutes? You don’t need this.” I watched him for a moment. He met my eye. He’s not trying to spin this.

  “Being able to be anywhere in the world in an instant seems like a handy ability,” I said simply.

  “Oh. Well, yeah, but it doesn’t have that big of a range. Right now, I can do about 20 miles. I’m working on getting the range up, but as it turns out, physics doesn’t like being Origami’d.” He leaned back, looking at the ceiling for a long moment. I could practically hear his mind working. He’s not like any other thief I’ve ever met. “40%.”

  “40%,” I repeated, pretending to consider it for a moment, weighing my options. Then I asked, “What are you looking to buy?”

  “An apartment building.”

  “Why?”

  “With that much, I can afford to let people live there rent-free for 2 years. 20 families.” I studied him for a long moment, looking for any signs of deception, any tell, anything that would let me know that this was all a game to him. He met my gaze but seemed confused by me just staring at him wordlessly. He broke the silence first, looking away. “Look, I get it. It’s not what anyone else would do with the money. But 2 years of letting people save up their rent money. That might be enough to really make a change in these people’s lives.”

  “40% it is, then.” I held out my hand. He took it and shook it.

  “Thank you, Buck Cherry.” I opened my mouth for a moment, considering. What name should I give him? Sabrina? Karen? Lona? None of those felt right. So, I gave him my name. The name I had lived under with Hope. The one I still was.

  “Cindi, please. And you are, Mister Thief?”

  “Uh. I’m Curt. Curt Reese.”

=== PRESENT DAY ===

I stared at my husband. He didn’t look at me like I was a stranger. That would hurt, but less than how he was looking at me. He glared and puffed out his chest. I had only ever seen that look directed towards me once. When I sprung Marcelli on him. I blinked back tears. Doctor Berry shifted next to me uncomfortably. I swallowed back all the pain and anger coursing through me and asked in a small voice, “What are we supposed to do?”

  “I think the best bet might be to recreate the circumstances that caused this.” The mentalist said.

  “Isn’t this ego attack you have dangerous?” Curt asked. Professor Mind looked away. “I’m pretty sure that’s what you did to Bion, and he’s still in a coma. And what about what she does? That kills people. This causes them to have heart attacks. I don’t want him to die, even if he is a thief. I need to get back to my wife, but I don't like the idea of sacrificing someone to do it.”

  My wife, the words repeated in my head endlessly. My stomach dropped. I shook my head, trying to banish the thoughts from my head. “Curt . . . My Curt has several theories as to how my powers work. What I’m actually doing when I zap people. He thinks two are the most likely. The first is that when I’m phasing, what I’m actually doing is spreading out the molecules of my being out, so they can slip in between the empty space of molecules. His other thought is that I’m sending some of my molecules somewhere else, making me less solid than other matter. He doesn’t know where else. But he thinks that’s more likely. He tried to explain why, but I didn’t really understand it. But he thinks the body is just panicking because I’m cutting off nerves from the rest of the body and then having them come back.”

  “Who cares?” The imposter asked in Curt’s voice. I glared at him, and he took a step back.

  “Well,” Professor Mind began, floating forward. “If Mister Drei is right, maybe that’s how this happened. If your nerves were being sent somewhere into the ether and then I Ego Drained you, maybe your consciousness put itself into the closest place it could find that felt right.”

  “None of this is right.”

  “No, it’s not. You’re not my husband. You’re not the man who Buck Cherry fell for. You’re a pathetic little bastard stealing my husband’s body. And I will do anything to have him back.”

=== FLASHBACK ===

I spent two days with him after that. Just testing him. He took me out to dinner, and we watched a show. Most of the time, he’d actually call a cab. This man has the power to just be anywhere he needs to be, and he still gets rides. I slept with him. At first, he tried to resist a little, but I wanted to taste him. And when we were done, he held me loosely in his arms. It was comfortable, but I could get out whenever I wanted. I didn’t need my powers to do it. He didn’t trust me entirely. He hid his little bracelet and glasses somewhere. After I’d exhausted him, I’d looked for it. When I returned to his bed, he stirred and pressed into me again. He was warm and easy. Both to talk to and to be around. And on the second day, when he looked at me, I felt my heart skip. So, I left.

  I didn’t come back for 6 months. He didn’t ask me where I’d been or who I’d been with. We did a job or two together. He helped me with moving some art. I helped him get some water purifiers from a company. And when I spent the night, he still hid his little accessories. I looked for them again, but still couldn’t find them. When I got back to bed, he was awake. He didn’t ask what I was doing, but he knew. He wrapped an arm around me, kissed my shoulder, and went back to sleep. Why isn’t he yelling? Why doesn’t he care? I left before he got up.

This time, I was gone for 9 months. I went all around the world, stealing anything and everything. Even when I was selling in the States, I didn’t visit him. I couldn’t. I couldn’t bear to. He didn’t reach out to me at all. Not for the whole 9 months I was gone. Where does he get off? I’m not just any other woman, I stewed. Men have proposed to me after spending a few nights with me. And he just let me go. When he did reach out, I felt relieved. A weight lifted from my shoulders. I banished the feeling and answered the phone wordlessly. After a moment, he asked, “Cindi? You there?”

  “Of course, I am, darling?” I said in my silkiest tone.

  “I . . . Uh. How are you?” He asked. He sounded tired. Gruffer than normal. His voice always had this dry roughness to it. But this was practically gravel.

  “Do get to the point. I assume you want something.”

  “R-right. I don’t mean to bother you, Cindi. Y-you’re probably busy. J-just forget it.”

  “Mister Reese, Curt. I took your call. The least you could do is not leave me in the dark.”

  “I . . . I have a job. I could use your help. A million dollars for an hour or two’s work. And that’s all yours.”

  “When?”

  “When can you be here?” I was in California at the time. I could be there within the day. But it wouldn’t do to let him think that I would just drop everything for him.

  “I can be there in three days.” My stomach lurched. I actually want to see him sooner. Disgusting. I pushed the feeling away.

  “Perfect. That’ll give me a few more days to prepare. Thanks, Cin.” I froze. It took me a moment to process that he had not called me Cind, Hope’s nickname for me. But the way he said it was soft. He wasn’t trying to manipulate me. Not like she did. He hung up, and I stared at the phone. Cin. I took my time getting to Avalare. I tried not to think about him at all. I went to the spa, got a massage, and tried to relax. When I did get to his apartment, I just walked through the door. It was the middle of the night, but he was still up. He jumped and glanced up. Then when he saw me, he smiled. It was brief, but it caused my stomach to flip. I took a deep breath and pushed it away. Honestly, acting like a damn schoolgirl at her first dance. Not that I’d ever gotten to go to a dance.

He didn’t get up from the table. There were papers strewn about it, and he was making notes. With his left hand. Because his right arm was in a sling. My eyes widened. I didn’t rush over to him. If anything, he should’ve come to me. But I did get closer. His left leg was also in a cast. “Oh, Curt. What did you do?”

  “Something stupid.”

  “And what was this stupid thing?”

  “Tried to be like the world’s greatest thief. Should’ve realized that I’m not like you,” he said, turning back to the papers, making notes.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I should’ve called you sooner, is all. I needed help.”

  “And why didn’t you?”

  “Figured you were busy. You’d come back if you wanted to.”

  “Ah, is that why you didn’t call?”

  “Yeah. Figured you have better things to do.”

  “And meanwhile, you were getting your entire body broken.”

  “Being thrown off a six-story building will do that. Honestly, I’m lucky it wasn’t worse.”

  “You can teleport! Why didn’t you just do that?”

  “I did. Forgot to account for my momentum, though.”

  “You forgot about momentum.”

  “I was unconscious when I started falling. Honestly, I was just lucky that I woke up before hitting the ground.”

  “And what exactly happened?”

  “What I was stealing had a highly pressurized container. When I went to disable it, it rapidly depressurized.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It blew up in my face, and I was thrown out a window.”

  “And you think I can help with this?” I asked, stepping closer to look over his shoulder. I pretended to review his plans but didn’t take any of that in. Instead, I just rested my hand on his neck, and he leaned into it. He didn’t react to it more than that, instead opting to continue.

  “Well, with your phasing ability, you should just be able to grab the loot and put it in the other pressurized container.”

  “And if it explodes on me, too?”

  “Then it’ll go through you, and I’ll be thrown out the window again. It’ll be fun. My doctor will have so many kind words for me.” He said, looking up at me. He had a lopsided grin on his face. “Besides, being blown up is better with company.”

  “Oh. And how do you know that?”

  “Well, it wasn’t enjoyable without company. So, it can only get better from there, right?”

=== PRESENT DAY ===

“Are you sure about this?” Curt asked Smash Gal. The way he was looking at her made me sick. How dare he.

  “As sure as I can be. I trust Chuck,” she said with what I’m sure she thought was a reassuring smile. She didn’t know how to comfort him at all.

  “But not her,” he said, gesturing to me.

  “I . . . It’s complicated. I think she cares about our Curt.”

  “My Curt,” I corrected. She gave me a bemused look. “Smash Gal, darling. You really must do something about that face of yours. I’d be happy to help.” Curt started to get up in my face, but Professor Mind interceded.

  “Kari! Cherry! We’re here to help him. Let’s get to work.”

=== FLASHBACK ===

We did the job together. Curt used his left hand to do his snap trick, and we were in some tech firm. “Why do you target tech firms? Art is easier to sell.”

  “Don’t have the same connections you do. Besides, I can decide who gets the tech. Who gets a cut. The one piece of art I ever stole, I had to give a cut to someone I’d just met.” He limped over to some console and started typing on it. I considered him for a moment. It was always amazing watching him work. He focused entirely on what he was doing. Nothing could distract him. I know because I’ve tried on other jobs. He found whatever he was looking for, then made it over to the wall with thousands of tiles on it. Each one was about the size of a piece of bread across. He took something out of his bag and gestured at me. “Box A36.”

  I took his little device and floated up to the box in question. I tentatively put my hand through the door, and it went straight through. I’d found that more companies were using anti-meta fields and electric tech recently. But they hadn’t made it everywhere. Yet. My hand became solid on the other side, and it felt like I was being crushed. I grimaced, and Curt gripped my leg reassuringly. I grinned through it and swept the only thing in the little cubby through the door and into the container he’d given me. Then floated down. “What is it, anyway?”

  “Experimental medical tech. I have a doctor friend who has another doctor with a patient who needs it. But it’s incredibly pricey.”

  “More than a million dollars, apparently,” I remarked. He looked away. “I will get my cut, Curt.”

  “You’ll get your money. Don’t worry about that. Just give me a little while.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “This job was more . . . pro-bono than anything. I’m going to pay you myself.”

  “Why?”

  “Does it matter?” He asked.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Cin, I do things because I think they’re right. You need to get paid. So, I’ll pay you.”

  “And how do you plan to do that?”

  “Not sure. I’m not selling any tech. Never know where it’s going to end up. But I can just do a plain old boring bank heist.”

  “Wouldn’t that hurt people?”

  “Eh. It'll be fine if I’m not taking from any specific accounts. Target institutions, not people.”

  “Then let’s go.”

  “What?”

  “Curt, I learned a long time ago not to take IOUs.” I didn’t mention that I was the one usually giving out those bad IOUs. Or that right now, I didn’t even care about the money. I just thought it would be fun to watch him hobble around a bank vault.

  “Cherry,” he always defaulted back to my moniker whenever he wanted to argue. I think he thought it gave him some kind of distance from me. It didn’t. “I don’t have a plan. I don’t even know which bank would have enough money on-hand. Just give me a week or two.”

  “Can this patient wait a week or two?”

  “No, they’re a kid. They need it immediately. Like when I tried four days ago.”

  “Freeze!” A security officer came out of nowhere and pointed a gun at us. Curt, adorably, put himself in between me and our captor. “Came back to finish the job, huh?”

  “Yeah. Well, you know how it is,” I said, wrapping my arms around Curt. “You see something you think a friend may like, and you bring them along the next time just to see what sales are happening.”

  The man shot. I did my thing. Curt snapped. And the weird energy buzzed around us, and we shot around the room for a moment or two before we became solid again. The bullet had crashed into one of the cubbies, which was spewing some kind of liquid out. There were two or three Curts on top of me. But eventually, my vision cleared, and it was just him. He also looked dazed. “That was weird. Let’s never do that again.”

  Then he snapped, and the world shifted into his bedroom. He took the little container and sent it through one of his portals. Then he texted someone before collapsing on the bed. He looked tired. He always looks tired, but today was more so. He fell asleep almost immediately. I cuddled into him for a little while. His arm instinctively wrapped around me. It wasn’t like when Hope had held me. She always clung tightly to me, which had been reassuring at the time. Curt’s grip was firm, but I was always allowed to leave. And not because I was Buck Cherry. Because nothing could tie me down. But because while he was desperate for me to be here, he didn’t take it as a given. And he’d blown himself up to not bother you, I thought. I watched him sleep for a while. And after a bit, I got up. I stripped him down. Just tugging his clothes through him. The last thing I took off was his bracelet. I held it in my hands, studying it. A polished steel circle with a blue vortex slowly shifting inside of it. A pair of glasses. This is what he used to do what he did. It was hardly as cool as an ancient magical statue, but he made do. I tried it on. His wrist and hand were a fair amount thicker than mine. I smiled at the difference. After a while, I felt his eyes on me. “You finally got it. What now?”

  “I have it?” I asked, holding it up, letting it hang loosely off my wrist before smiling down at him. “Darling. You said it yourself; it clashes with my aesthetic. For one, it’s far too big. And two, I haven’t the faintest clue as to how to use it.”

  He stared at me for a moment longer before reaching up and grabbing my hand. I squeezed his hand, and he laid down next to me. “You still are going to get me my money.”

  “Of course,” he laughed. “Thanks, Cin.”

=== PRESENT DAY ===

I pressed my hands to both of my husband’s temples. His eyes met mine. Distrust stained his face. I steeled myself. I’m going to get him back. I’m sure that wherever my Curt is, he’s working on it. He’ll come back to me. The psychiatrist stood next to me, holding out his hand. He took several deep breaths before I started. Curt convulsed under my fingers as I sent his nerves in and out of existence. A soft blue glow surrounded us. And Curt froze. He was no longer in pain. Instead, he fell completely limp in my arms. I crushed him to my chest, letting out a shuddering breath. Tears leaked down my cheeks. He didn’t get cold. He was breathing. But no one was home. After a few moments, I looked up to the superheroes who had tried countless times to take away what was rightfully mine. Something I’d earned. Something was given to me willingly. I didn’t bother wiping the tears away. “If he doesn’t return, neither of you will know a moment’s peace.”

  Both of them looked at each other for a moment, frowning. Then Smash Gal said, “He’ll be back. Have faith in him.”