Levitating Las Vegas(40)
Author: Jennifer Echols

“There’s nothing else we can do right now,” she said. “We’ll wait until this afternoon and hope for the best. You’re tired. When’s the last time you slept?”

He cut his eyes briefly at her before returning them to the store. “I guess it’s been over twenty-four hours,” he admitted. “And I didn’t sleep very well then.”

“Come here,” she said. He didn’t move, and this time she didn’t rely on her pretend power. She physically pulled him toward her by his hips until he stumbled a step forward. She slid her hands around to his back and rubbed up and down slowly through his T-shirt. He was so stiff under her hands that she half expected him to pull away. He never unfolded his arms. But he let her rub his back, and finally he put his chin down on her shoulder.

“Why don’t we go to that hotel down the street?” she asked, her voice muffled by his chest. “They’ll be able to give us specifics on the parade, and then we’ll rest up until the time comes.”

Now he pulled away from her, but only a few inches. He unfolded his arms and slid his hands down her forearms to her elbows, so they embraced each other equally. He looked deep into her eyes and said nothing.

She couldn’t read his expression. He didn’t seem horrified at the prospect of sharing a room, but he didn’t seem too eager, either. His face was a blank. Puzzled, she pulled one hand free and placed her fingertips on the center of his shirt.

His heart raced under her touch.

Good. As long as his heart beat as fast as hers did when they stood this close, they were still alive, and human, and they couldn’t be too far gone.

Elijah walked more slowly as he approached the elaborately carved front desk at the Victorian hotel. He hadn’t thought this through. He’d made a big withdrawal before he left Vegas, so he had plenty of money in his pockets. He was a very good kidnapper in that regard. He could pay for this room in cash. But he would have to give them his debit card anyway for the security deposit. If the police were tracking him, he would be as good as caught.

The alternative was to take Holly to the run-down motel he’d noticed across from the gas station at the last intersection before the long and winding highway to Icarus. They wouldn’t insist on seeing his debit card. But he couldn’t take Holly there. It was too far, and she was too good for that.

A few minutes later, he stepped on the elevator, pressed the button for the third floor, and stood close to Holly—a little closer than necessary. “Good news,” he said.

She clapped her hands. “I’m a good news kind of girl.”

“The parade is at three. It’s actually the practice parade they hold on the summer solstice, the autumnal equinox, and the winter solstice. Their annual St. Patrick’s Day parade is the real blowout.”

The doors slid open. She backed into the hallway as she asked him, “Today’s the longest day of the year?”

He passed her and led the way down the hall to their room. “Feels like it already, and it’s only 11 a.m.” He winced as soon as he said this, because he knew by now how it would sound to her.

Sure enough, he felt her disappointment that he wasn’t having fun with her. She’d hoped something would happen between them in the hotel room, but now she told herself: come on. What a thing to dwell on at a time like this, when he was suffering. As he stopped at their door and slid the key card into the lock, she reached out to rub his back again.

Elijah stilled, bracing himself for the touch that would mean he really could read minds.

Her warm hand stroked his back through his shirt.

He jumped.

“You’re so nervous,” she said. “Relax. We’ll get some sleep, we’ll go back to the ohmyGod weird-ass candy store that makes pharmaceuticals, and we’ll get the Mentafixol. Everything will be fine. There’s no reason to be tense.” But as she pushed open the door and flicked on the light, she was wishing they did have something to be nervous about, and he would make a move on her—oh! Wait. Maybe he would, after all. There was only one bed.

“They gave me a king without asking,” he explained. He was careful not to characterize this as good news or bad news so he wouldn’t hurt her imaginary feelings or her real ones. It was the truth, as far as it went. The hotel clerk had taken one look at Elijah’s showgirl and booked him a king, though he could see on the computer that there was still a double room available. Elijah simply hadn’t corrected him. “Do want me to ask if we can change? Or I can get you a room to yourself.”

“This is fine with me if it’s okay with you.” Holly rounded the bed and paused in the bathroom doorway. The king bed was a good sign. She hoped he was lying about not asking for it. Clearly he wasn’t going to make a move on her in the next fifteen minutes, though. He watched her hungrily like a lean wolf who hadn’t eaten in a week, but he swayed a little like he hadn’t slept either. She backed into the bathroom and closed the door.

Elijah kicked off his shoes, stretched out on the bed, and clicked the TV on with the remote. He tried to listen to the news rather than her thoughts, but it was no use. He assumed she was removing her makeup, because she was thinking it was awfully heavy. And she was glad she’d brought remover in her purse, but she should have brought a hacksaw.

Finally she opened the door and stood in the doorway with her hands half shielding her face. “Don’t look.”

“What?” Elijah exclaimed. “You don’t look bad. You look beautiful without makeup. Just different.”

“Ha-ha.” She stepped to the bed, crawled right over his outstretched legs, and slid beneath the sheets.

He expected some discussion of him sleeping on the floor, or building a wall of pillows between them. But she wasn’t prudish like that, and besides, she seemed to trust him for some reason. Her eyes were already closed. She was wondering how well her parents would be able to adjust their act without her tomorrow morning—her dad was scheduled to perform an impossible feat of physical stamina—and whether they’d actually be relieved when she didn’t show up, because she’d been dropping a lot of glittery golden hoops the past few nights while she watched the audience for Elijah.

He settled into a comfortable position, cushioned in the pillows on his own half of the bed. There was no way he would be able to sleep with her curled beside him, her chest smooth and bare, her bikini top peeking from the covers and sparkling in the lamplight. He wished she’d gone with him to the prom when they were fourteen, and that they’d given each other comfort in the face of MAD during those high school years. Instead, he’d stayed away from girls. His imagined mind-reading abilities told him Holly was as inexperienced as he was. But that must be wrong. She was a beautiful girl, and kind. Surely she’d had a serious boyfriend before. He only wished it had been him.