After their outing to a local restaurant, the gang returned to Cape Hatteras and began preparations for summoning the Lady Luck. Seth ran to Vanessa's rental car to retrieve some items from his emergency kit, Bracken examined the shore around the lighthouse, and Trask and Kendra had left in a separate car. Warren found himself alone with Vanessa. He had no great love for awkward moments, but the last thing the team needed right now was drama, and he knew he would have to make things uncomfortable again before they could get better.

Vanessa sauntered barefoot near the waves, the foam occasionally swirling around her ankles. She had pushed her sunglasses back and into her hair now that the sun had set. As he approached, he saw that she noticed him, but she looked away after making brief, reluctant eye contact. Despite how obviously she wanted to be alone, she also made no move to stop him or to leave.

Warren kicked off his shoes and bent down to roll up his jeans. He stared, squinting, into the darkening horizon. "Wasn't that a little unnecessary?"

She sided a glance at him. "You mean the unicorn or me?"

"If Seth hadn't pointed it out, I might not have noticed. It was bad enough without dragging Kendra into things."

Vanessa rolled her eyes and gave a grunt that was audible even against the roaring of surf around them. "You also wouldn't have noticed if Bracken hadn't handled the situation in a way a teenage boy could follow. It was careless, and it was humiliating."

Warren straightened. He raised his eyebrows at her, folding his arms. "You never planned on, I don't know, telling me?"

"Doesn't matter now. I no longer have the option."

He sighed. She wasn't going to make this easy. "Look, Vanessa. We're heading for Zzyzx and possibly the end of our lives along with it. The last thing I want to do right now is make enemies. It's not middle school. We have more important things to think about, and even if that weren't the case, there are plenty of options short of the silent treatment. Either we deal with this like the adults we are, or we die with one more loose end on our minds."

Vanessa clenched her jaw, her lips becoming a thin, straight line. She continued to face the waves but turned her head in his direction, still not quite making eye contact. "I'm so accustomed to keeping secrets. With the kind of information I managed to hide for years, it's rather pathetic that this one got out. So trifling compared to everything else. The one that mattered to me personally."

A cold wave splashed Warren's toes as he drew even with her. "Well, like you said, it doesn't make much difference anymore. Now that I know, what do you think I'm going to do? Throw you back in the Quiet Box?"

Vanessa's eyes flashed. "It wouldn't be the first time."

Warren wasn't always one to avoid provoking people, but Vanessa's reaction did make him wish he had chosen his words more carefully. He raised his palms in apology. "Okay, point taken. What I mean is, what kind of person do you think I am? I may not be an expert double-agent, but I've kept secrets too, Vanessa. Can you really picture me doing something harmful with the information?"

She studied him, one eyebrow raised slightly. "You do have a habit of bringing jokes into situations where they don't belong."

"No argument there," he granted, resisting a chuckle to prevent further proving her point. "But let's be honest: my jokes are something you'll have to get used to, especially if Bracken was right."

The sound she made was either a lazy scoff or sigh. Warren couldn't be sure. "This is ridiculous. We'll be dead four days from now. What's the point?"

He returned her scoff, slipping his hands into his pockets. "Don't you think that's a little nihilistic?"

"Realistic, more like."

"So?" Her eyebrows went higher than he had seen them for a while. "If you think that's not weighing on me, you're very, very wrong, but I'd want more out of my last days than brooding over the pointlessness of short-lived happiness, especially if we manage to beat the odds and survive. Wouldn't you?"

Vanessa's features softened slightly, as if in resignation. "I wish I could let myself think that way."

"This ragtag gang of ours does have a decent track record of surviving impossible scenarios," Warren reminded her.

"Not this impossible." Another sigh. "But I've thought about that, too." A larger wave than usual broke against the shore. The resulting splash soaked Warren's rolled pant legs and even sprayed the bottom of Vanessa's shorts, making her flinch. "I would simply rather be a pleasantly surprised pessimist than a disappointed optimist," she concluded.

Warren cocked his head. "I get that. But at the same time, why are we even trying if we know we'll fail? Seems like we're already disappointed optimists and just want to hide that from ourselves." Her gaze met his. "And you know, pleasantly surprised pessimist and disappointed optimist aren't the only options. If you die at Zzyzx, all you get out of pessimism is knowing you were right. At least being hopeful about it might let us smile on the way out."

Vanessa closed her eyes and began massaging her temples. She didn't respond for several seconds, and Warren waited patiently, enjoying how the damp sand around him almost reflected the periwinkle sky. He knew he was challenging a perspective she had built up over many years. In all honesty, he didn't even want or need her to change her mind—just to realize where he was coming from, that he wasn't a complete idiot for thinking they could make something work out, or that they might have the chance to. Eyes opening, Vanessa looked at him. Really looked at him for maybe the first time today. "Maybe you have a bit of a point, Warren," she sighed. And then her eyes were on the waves again. "Still... I can't rush into something for the sake of optimism."

He nodded almost more with his eyes than his head. "I know now isn't the time." He gave a shrug. She was watching him again. "But if that's what you want, this family has a decent track record of that, too. I wouldn't be opposed to carrying on the Burgess tradition of interspecies relationships."

When Vanessa arched an eyebrow at him, she wore the slightest of smirks on her face, as if she were toying with him but wasn't quite ready to stop worrying yet. "Tell me how you get 'decent' out of 50-50 odds."

"Oh, come on. The odds are just about the same in typical relationships; maybe worse. Isn't the divorce rate about 50 percent?"

"The women died tragic deaths in both scenarios," Vanessa persisted.

Warren squinted in something of a mocking wince. "I think forsaking immortality is what really made a mess of things."

"Good," she said. He thought he could almost hear a chuckle behind the words. "Because you shouldn't count on me giving that up for you, even if I had it. Not with the demon prison about to open. What better time to cheat death?"

Warren flashed a small grin, quietly hoping the relief wasn't showing on his face. Sighing, he glanced up at the sky, where stars had begun to appear. "Well, let's hope we won't have to cheat. We haven't seen the test yet."