The Silver Thread (33 page)

“No,
Casablanca
is an American classic,” he argued. “This is just insulting to my intelligence.”

“Cult classic and classic are two completely separate genres. I’m trying to broaden your horizons. Have you seen
The Evi
l Dead
?”

“No.”

“
Dead or
Alive
?”

“No.”

“
Shaun of th
e Dead
?”

“No.”

“
He
athers
?”

“No. What’s that one about?”

“Teen suicide and blowing up a school.”

“I’m seeing a rather morbid pattern here. Should I be concerned?”

“It’s not like that,” she insisted. “They’re all hysterical movies!”

“If you say so.”

Finn spotted the remote lying by Annika’s feet, and he made a grab for it, beating her to it. Her hands clamped around his, and channels flipped incessantly as they fought for control of the remote.

“Something just fell from your pocket,” he said, and when she looked down, he seized the chance to yank the remote away from her.

“Oh, yeah, I forgot about this,” she said, picking up the black business card. Finn settled on a program about the solar system and started in on the pasta. “I thought we could go to this gallery tomorrow. It turns out that the waiter is an artist, and he gave me his card. I think he wants me to paint a picture with him, or something like that.” Finn chewed his food thoughtfully and then turned to her.

“Did he figure out that you’re an American tourist? He’ll probably charge you an arm and a leg for something that I could do blindfolded.”

“No, he has a gallery, and I’m pretty sure it’s close by. Do you recognize this address?” She handed him the card and he started to laugh, and then choked on a pine nut.

“The waiter gave you this?” he coughed, and finally cleared his throat, but his eyes were still watery. “I can’t believe the place is still around.”

“So you know where it is?” she asked, leaning closer with interest. “Is it close enough to walk?”

Finn handed the card back and took another long sip of his Madeira.

“It doesn’t matter. I am
not
taking you there,” he informed her, and tried to focus on a close-up shot of Jupiter on the television.

“Why not? Is it because it’s underground? I promise that I won’t complain this time if something drips in my hair. And I’ll wear better shoes.”

Finn started to laugh quietly, and then he had to wipe his eyes. “I don’t think it would matter what shoes you wore, if you wore any at all. And I would bet every last one of my books that you would complain quite a bit if something dripped in your hair at
la Société d’
Art
Souterraine
,” he said, still laughing softly.

“Oh it’s on,” she challenged him. “Why don’t we go and find out so I can prove you wrong? I’m all about supporting local artists.”

This sent Finn into another fit of silent laughter.

“I think you might be able to find another artist to support somewhere in Paris. Let’s go watch the buskers in Montmartre tomorrow instead.” He wiped his eyes again and reached for the Carmenere and the wine key.

“Why won’t you take me to
la Société d’
Art
Sout
erraine
?

“Because Talvi would have my head if he ever found out,” he said, gently coaxing the cork out of the second bottle. “It’s not just an art gallery, Annika. To sum it up, it’s an erotic art club.”

“Oh shut up,” she scoffed. “The waiter wasn’t a pervert. He seemed like a nice, normal guy.”

“I would try to seem like a nice, normal guy as well, if I was hoping to bed you on a large canvas as art patrons spread paint over our intertwined bodies.”

“
That’s
what he meant when he asked if I wanted to paint a picture with him?” Annika squealed, and Finn shrugged, still avoiding looking at her.

“It’s one of many possibilities. It’s just like you said about your zombie films…anything goes.” He tilted his head back, finishing the Madeira in one last swallow.

“Oh my god, I gave that guy my friggin’ underwear!”

Finn snorted into his glass, but said nothing.

“Why do you know so much about this sex club, anyway? I guess you’re speaking from experience?”

“Well, Annika, this may come as a surprise to you, but I do have a pulse,” he confessed, refilling their wine glasses with the Carmenere. “Although I mostly went for the opium. It’s been years and years since those days, and I honestly don’t miss them. They had their time.”

“At least you had days like that to begin with,” she said, sulking. “I feel like I’m missing out on something huge, and it’s right under my nose.”

“You know, the one problem with building up unattainable fantasies in one’s head,” he said, staring intently at the television, “is that they grow so large they eventually burst, leaving nothing behind but disappointment.”

“Finn, do we need to get you some antacids or something?” Annika asked. They were sitting in a sunny café not far from their hotel, having brunch. It was a gorgeous day outside, but Finn looked only slightly better than miserable. If he had even slept at all, he had woken up in a bad mood and been edgy ever since.

“I’m alright,” he said, but his barely eaten peach crepes and half-full cup of coffee suggested otherwise.

Annika on the other hand, was feeling incredible this morning. Her senses were turned up to their maximum capacity. Everything smelled and tasted so luscious and appealing. Her nose and her taste buds seemed to be evolved only to inhale and savor this amazing French cuisine. Her ears picked up everything around her, too, and rather than being annoying and overwhelming as it had been earlier in the year, it was now a beautiful symphony of life. The bell ringing each time the café door opened, the chime of the cash register, the sound of forks and knives cutting food on plates, the restaurant staff talking in the kitchen, and the traffic outside were all part of a wondrous experience. There was a mysterious confidence and certainty flowing within her that hadn’t been there a day ago, and she felt like she owned the room, the street, and the city.

When they had approached the restaurant, a man had held open the door to the café for her before Finn could reach for it. When she ordered her eggs with black truffles, their server had given her a very sultry look of approval, and his private thoughts had made Annika blush when she inadvertently eavesdropped on them. Female diners shot her occasional disparaging glances while their husbands and boyfriends stole lingering looks at her.

“I don’t know what the deal is this morning,” Annika said, overhearing a woman snap at her husband for ogling in her direction too long. “It’s not like I’m dressed like a whore. I’m not even showing any cleavage.” She glanced down at the crisp white knee-length dress that she had worn to the polo match, which she had paired with a soft teal cardigan. “Oh, well, it’s just a half inch. I must have filled out a little from eating so many pastries. Do you think that’s still too much to show?”

Finn nodded his head, then abruptly started to shake his head, then unfastened the second button on his shirt. He looked ready to throw up.

“Hmm. Maybe it’s just too early in the day for black cat eye makeup,” she mused. “I thought Parisians were all about being sexy and classy at the same time. I was just trying to go for that vintage look.”

“There’s nothing wrong with…how you
look
,” he stammered as he stood up, and dropped some bills on the table with a shaking hand. “Take your time finishing your breakfast. I need some fresh air.” He dashed outside, and Annika sat in her little wooden chair, bewildered by his behavior. She ate a few more bites of her eggs, watching Finn from the other side of the window where he sat at an empty table. He was inhaling the air deeply through his nose, then letting it out through his mouth, as he watched the late morning traffic hustle and bustle by.

Finally Annika couldn’t sit there any longer, and she walked up to the counter to order a peppermint tea to go.

“
Combien est-ce que je vous dois
?” she asked, opening her purse, but the older man behind the bar waved her away with a grin, giving her the tea for free. She could feel his eyes on her back as she strutted out the door with her prize.

“I’m sorry you’re not feeling well,” she said, stepping next to Finn, and handed him the cup of tea. “I’m pretty sure mint is supposed to help an upset stomach.”

“Thanks,” he said, smiling half-heartedly as he took the cup from her. “But my stomach is fine. It’s in my head, mostly.”

“We can get you some aspirin for your headache.”

“No, that’s not going to help at all,” he frowned.

Annika sighed in frustration. She didn’t know what else to do, if he wouldn’t drink tea, or take medicine, or eat any of his beloved sweets. Then it struck her why he might be acting so strange.

“Are you a doppelgänger,
s
ludoor
?”

Finn chuckled, smiling for the first time that morning.

“No,
slunchitse
, I’m just having a really rough time of it.”

Annika threw her arms around his neck in relief and caught another whiff of his aftershave.

“Oh yay, it’s still you,” she sighed into his soft brown curls, taking in his scent. He smelled so good that she didn’t want to lift her head, but somehow she forced herself to do so after the extra-long hug. “I mean, it sucks that you’re feeling so bad. Here, I’ll give you a little massage while you’re sitting. That ought to help your headache.”

He tried to protest, but she was already standing behind him, kneading his neck with her hands. She rubbed his temples with her fingertips in little circles, working her way through his curls from front to back, then back to front. As her hands worked their way down his neck again and onto his tense shoulders, she was surprised at how sweaty his skin was. His right hand reached up and curled around her own, gripping tight. His palm was on fire.

“Let’s go for a walk,” he said in a dry voice, and then took a drink of his tea.

They made their way down to the corner and then turned onto the Champs-Élysées, strolling along leisurely. Finn walked on the outside, as always. A soft breeze blew against their faces, and the longer they walked, the more relaxed he became.

“I’m glad to see you’re feeling better,” said Annika. “I wonder if maybe you ate something bad last night.”

Finn slowed down to a crawl, tilting his head to one side. He furrowed his brow and narrowed his eyes suspiciously as he gazed down at her.

“You don’t have any idea what’s going on, do you?”

“Um, I just figured you were coming down with the flu,” she shrugged. “I didn’t think elves got sick, but you’ve got a fever and no appetite. Plus you’ve been grumpy ever since we got back from the catacombs yesterday, so I don’t know what else it could be.”

“Oh Annika…” Finn began, and trailed off, sidetracked by the number of pedestrians walking around them. “That’s not it at all; not by a long shot.”

“Well then, what the hell is it, and what can we do about it?” she asked, feeling agitated. The tone in his voice made it sound like she was in trouble.

He pulled her into a recessed doorway to escape the passersby, and in the little alcove, away from the breeze, the scent of his skin enveloped her like heavy fog. He leaned against the wall beside her, and she became aware of just how much larger than her he was. All six feet eight inches of him loomed over her like Michelangelo’s David come to life, and she couldn’t believe how small he made her feel.

“It’s basic biology. We can’t do anything about it. I mean, in a scientific sense we could, but the result would be disastrous for both of us, socially.” For the first time since she’d known him, Annika saw something strange and new in his dark eyes…was it desire? He leaned even closer to her and reached his warm hand down below her navel, pressing gently against the white poplin. As if his fingers were a book of matches, her insides were set ablaze in response to his touch. “Your dress isn’t snug from eating too many pastries, Annika. It’s because you’re ovulating. Right now, your body is flooded with so many hormones and pheromones that I can scarcely see straight. That’s why so many men are paying extra attention to you lately,” he said, still staring at her, still carefully palpating each side of her lower abdomen.

“They don’t know why, they just know they want you. The women know that the men want you too, at a subconscious, primal level…so they see you as a potential threat. But elves’ senses are somewhere between a human’s and a wolf’s, which is why I knew what was going on when I stepped out of the shower yesterday. The scalp is one of the primary places that pheromones are released from, so smelling your hair last evening was somewhat of an exquisite torture for me. It’s your right ovary that is making all the fuss, by the way. Next year it will be your left.”

Astounded that he knew her insides better than she did, she felt her heart begin to pound harder in her chest. “Is that why you said you were annoyed with Talvi for picking up a job?” she asked, suddenly feeling bare and vulnerable. “Is that why you said you were worried about us?”

Finn nodded his head, and his curls fell into his eyes as he looked down at her, but it didn’t break the intensity of his sleep-deprived gaze.

“All I can say is that I hope this was an honest mistake, because I wouldn’t wish this on anyone. He made me swear not to let you out of my sight, which he surely wouldn’t have done without good reason. If he had even slightly suspected this might happen, he never would have asked me to stay with you. He wouldn’t want me anywhere near you. It’s absolutely
verboten
.” He swallowed hard, looking distressed when he took his hands off of her abdomen to adjust himself near his belt.

“I couldn’t sleep at all last night. I could only lay there, breathing you in for eight vexing hours, wondering what the bloody hell I was going to do with you. Back home, we only have two options. You either stay far away from each other for those three days, or you remain together and give Mother Nature what she’s asking for. Of course, I thought about ways to keep you isolated, such as having you put in jail for a few days, but even that wouldn’t protect you from the unsavory characters who will no doubt find you nearly as irresistible. You won’t be apt to behave yourself much longer in this state anyhow, so I may as well take my chances to ensure you don’t bear any strange fruit. You’re destined to have a very important child.” He put both hands on her small waist and spread his fingers out, running them up and down, evaluating her curves. He hummed in pleasure, just like when he was eating the pear and ginger sorbet from last night.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Annika asked, trembling with unease. It unnerved her to be told yet again that there were details about her life that she had no clue of, but getting knocked up by her husband’s sexy older brother didn’t seem like a very acceptable destiny either. Then again, what did she know about elves’ values? It might be a bit arrogant to expect that social etiquette among them was the same as it was with humans. It definitely hadn’t seemed the same with fairies, not when Chivanni likened lovers to shoes. Maybe elves liked to keep things in the family? She didn’t know. All she knew was that the wall behind her seemed to be pushing her closer into the thick, intoxicating haze surrounding Finn. Her body began to break out in a sweat as she breathed in his scent.

“I’m speaking of the prophecy about your husband.” He cleared his throat and recited, “The first male twin to be born shall be married at dawn on the same day as his conception. His bride shall be from a distant land with the blood of a samodiva and the voice of a siren. Thereafter this union, through his bride’s altered body, she shall cultivate and give birth to a voice that will liberate one soul at a time, thusly anchoring these lives to the world of the living.” Finn looked down at her curiously, peering into her eyes, into her mind. “I’ve sung with you before, Annika, and it was…transcendental. I watched you enchant an entire pub with your siren song that evening. Now that your body is altered due to your handfasting to Talvi, it’s rather clear what your future holds. Judging by the expression on your face, I don’t suppose he bothered to mention any of this to you.”

“There’s a lot he doesn’t mention to me,” she replied, realizing that her victory at avoiding motherhood may have been short-lived after all. Images of Talvi’s secret cell phone and the embroidered handkerchief swirled around inside her mind and she offered them to Finn, along with the memory of Talvi’s late night booty call and him straddling Patti Cake in the grass, blasting her in the face with his hose. Finn rolled his eyes, shaking his head in irritation and disapproval the way only an older, wiser brother can.

“And here I am once more, teaching you all about your destiny,” he pointed out, still encircling her waist with his hands, still remaining inside her mind, and she inside his. “Where was Talvi when you were standing on a ladder, adding your name to the family tree in my library that proved you were Sariel’s greatest granddaughter? Why, he was off sulking when you fell off that ladder and into my arms. Where was he when you learned that you were destined to marry him? He was warming up with wood nymphs and fairy brandy while I was bundling you up in a sweater. Why hasn’t he even taught you one word of Karsikko, when you enjoy learning new languages? And
why
would he take the chance for us to be together like this, when he knows what’s coming your way? I can only hope it’s because he is unimaginably harebrained and reckless when it comes to you. If he orchestrated this intentionally to avoid any parental duties, I’ll—”

“You don’t think he would
do
that, do you?” Annika interrupted in horror. “He
really
doesn’t want kids.”

“Oh, I know he doesn’t,” Finn replied, biting his lip in frustration. “But he knows that I do. I suppose if we fall victim to Mother Nature’s whims, it would be the most sublime punishment for him. As impetuous as nature can be, all she ultimately wants is to reproduce. You’re built so perfectly for it…you really do have the ideal proportions.” He inched his hands down until he was caressing her hip bones with his thumbs. “Did you know that among female humans and elves alike, there are basically only four different pelvic shapes? The wide angles of your ilium are optimal for carrying and bearing children. It’s as though you were made to accommodate twins without any serious complications, which is remarkable since they run in my family. There’s so much room in here…so much room…”