Silver Shadows
Page 78
Adrian took the hint and pulled out his wallet. “We would like to join this group,” he declared.
The driver shook his head. “It doesn’t work that way. This is all arranged through a tour company, who then contracts with my boss to—” His eyes bugged as Adrian handed over a couple of hundred-dollar bills. After a moment’s wavering, the driver snatched them and tucked them into his coat. “Come on in. I think there are still some seats in the back.”
The bus’s regular customers stared at us in astonishment as we moved past them and settled into the last seat. Moments later, the door shut, and the driver pulled out of the parking lot. Adrian slung an arm around me and sighed happily.
“Ah, I can’t wait to tell our kids about this. ‘Hey, honey, remember the time we bribed our way aboard a senior citizen tour bus going to Las Vegas?’”
I laughed in spite of myself. “Big romance there. I’m sure they’ll be impressed.”
The amusement stayed on his face, but it was tinged with sadness. “Actually, after what I’ve observed in marriage recently, this is big romance.”
“What are you talking about?”
The last of his smile disappeared. “Nothing worth getting into. Let’s just say I found out my parents’ marriage is a sham, and my mother is fine living with a man who thinks poorly of her, so long as he keeps paying her bills.”
“Adrian,” I exclaimed, resting my hand on his. “Why didn’t you tell me any of this?”
His smile returned, though this time it was wry. “Well, I kind of had some other things to worry about.”
He leaned over and kissed me on my forehead, but his words brought up something I’d kept on the edge of my mind: my own parents. “You saw Carly,” I began. “Do you know what happened to my family?”
The drive to Las Vegas was another hour and a half, and Adrian recapped what he’d learned about my family and the divorce. My heart sank. I wasn’t entirely surprised to hear that my dad had won custody of Zoe, even though I’d held out hope that my mom might prevail.
“It doesn’t mean she’s a lost cause,” I said to Adrian, trying to convince myself as much as him. “Zoe might still break free of all this.”
“She might,” he agreed, but I could tell he didn’t believe it.
When we reached Las Vegas, we learned the bus was taking its occupants to the Tropicana. We unloaded in front of that hotel, where the tour company’s guide was waiting for her charges and the next leg of their journey. She looked startled when we stepped off, and Adrian waved at her obligingly as we walked passed her, like it was totally normal for us to be there. She was too stunned to say or do anything to stop us.
Unfortunately, we then discovered we had someone waiting for us too.
“Adrian,” I said warningly.
He followed my gaze to where a man and a woman standing by the hotel’s door were staring straight at us. “Son of a bitch,” said Adrian, coming to a halt.
I nearly expected a repeat of what we’d left behind, with those Alchemists charging straight toward us. Instead, the woman touched the arm of another man whose back was to us. He turned, revealing himself to be a security guard. She said something to him and pointed at us. Immediately, he strode over, with the two Alchemists in tow. I looked around, trying to see if we could run somewhere or at least catch a taxi.
“That’s them,” the woman was saying. “I told you.”
“Excuse me,” said the guard. “I need to bring you inside and ask you some questions. I understand you may be involved in something of interest to the authorities.”
“Adrian,” I said through gritted teeth. “We can’t go with them.” I knew how these things worked. If we ended up in police or even this hotel’s custody, the Alchemists would simply work a little paperwork magic to get us turned over to them.
Adrian met the guard squarely in the eyes. “There’s been some mistake,” said Adrian amiably. There was a warm, honeyed quality to his voice that even drew me in. “We’re just here to have a good time, spend lots of money in the casino. These two are the ones causing trouble. They’re trying to distract you from what they’re really up to.”
The guard’s brow furrowed as the compulsion poured over him. I shivered, both impressed and a little disquieted at just how powerful Adrian was. The Alchemists realized what was going on too. “He’s lying,” the man snapped. “Seize them, and bring them in. We’ll help restrain them.”
“‘Seize them?’ Really?” asked Adrian. “I knew you guys were into the Middle Ages. I just didn’t realize you were still trying to live in them.” He focused his energy back on the guard. “Let us go. That’s our taxi that just pulled up. And don’t let them stop us.”
“Of course,” said the guard.
Adrian steered me toward a taxi that had, in fact, pulled up. The two Alchemists tried to come after us, but the guard, still under Adrian’s influence, blocked their way. The guy actually went so far as to punch the guard, allowing his female colleague to hurry over to the cab. By that time, Adrian and I had gotten inside, and he slammed the door and locked it as she pounded on the window.
“Drive,” he told the driver. “Now.”
The driver looked more than a little alarmed at the woman beating on his cab, especially when the male Alchemist joined him. “Go!” I urged.
The driver hit the gas. “Where to?”
For a moment, neither of us spoke. Then, I said, “The Witching Hour.”
Adrian gave me a sharp look. “You sure that’s a good idea?” he asked in a low voice, as the driver pulled into traffic. “The Moroi cooperate with the Alchemists.”
“I’m playing a hunch.” Seeing his surprised look, I said, “Well, it is Las Vegas.”
The taxi took us midway down the Strip, and as we pulled up, I warned Adrian, “There’ll likely be an Alchemist or two here waiting for us. Don’t search around for them or act like you notice one if you see them. Just walk straight inside and head for the restroom. I’ll do the same. When you come out, don’t wait for me. Go play cards or something. I’ll find you.”
That brought a frown to his face, but he didn’t argue as we paid and got out of the cab. The Witching Hour was no place I’d ever been, but it was well known in Alchemist circles. It was a Moroi-run casino and hotel, and while plenty of humans patronized it, its owners made sure it was chock-full of lots of things that catered to Moroi needs. We walked straight inside, and a Moroi bellman politely held the door open for us. Inside, it was like any other Las Vegas establishment: an array of lights and noise and far-ranging emotions. Adrian followed orders perfectly, going straight for the restrooms to the side of the lobby. I ducked inside the women’s room and into a stall.
The driver shook his head. “It doesn’t work that way. This is all arranged through a tour company, who then contracts with my boss to—” His eyes bugged as Adrian handed over a couple of hundred-dollar bills. After a moment’s wavering, the driver snatched them and tucked them into his coat. “Come on in. I think there are still some seats in the back.”
The bus’s regular customers stared at us in astonishment as we moved past them and settled into the last seat. Moments later, the door shut, and the driver pulled out of the parking lot. Adrian slung an arm around me and sighed happily.
“Ah, I can’t wait to tell our kids about this. ‘Hey, honey, remember the time we bribed our way aboard a senior citizen tour bus going to Las Vegas?’”
I laughed in spite of myself. “Big romance there. I’m sure they’ll be impressed.”
The amusement stayed on his face, but it was tinged with sadness. “Actually, after what I’ve observed in marriage recently, this is big romance.”
“What are you talking about?”
The last of his smile disappeared. “Nothing worth getting into. Let’s just say I found out my parents’ marriage is a sham, and my mother is fine living with a man who thinks poorly of her, so long as he keeps paying her bills.”
“Adrian,” I exclaimed, resting my hand on his. “Why didn’t you tell me any of this?”
His smile returned, though this time it was wry. “Well, I kind of had some other things to worry about.”
He leaned over and kissed me on my forehead, but his words brought up something I’d kept on the edge of my mind: my own parents. “You saw Carly,” I began. “Do you know what happened to my family?”
The drive to Las Vegas was another hour and a half, and Adrian recapped what he’d learned about my family and the divorce. My heart sank. I wasn’t entirely surprised to hear that my dad had won custody of Zoe, even though I’d held out hope that my mom might prevail.
“It doesn’t mean she’s a lost cause,” I said to Adrian, trying to convince myself as much as him. “Zoe might still break free of all this.”
“She might,” he agreed, but I could tell he didn’t believe it.
When we reached Las Vegas, we learned the bus was taking its occupants to the Tropicana. We unloaded in front of that hotel, where the tour company’s guide was waiting for her charges and the next leg of their journey. She looked startled when we stepped off, and Adrian waved at her obligingly as we walked passed her, like it was totally normal for us to be there. She was too stunned to say or do anything to stop us.
Unfortunately, we then discovered we had someone waiting for us too.
“Adrian,” I said warningly.
He followed my gaze to where a man and a woman standing by the hotel’s door were staring straight at us. “Son of a bitch,” said Adrian, coming to a halt.
I nearly expected a repeat of what we’d left behind, with those Alchemists charging straight toward us. Instead, the woman touched the arm of another man whose back was to us. He turned, revealing himself to be a security guard. She said something to him and pointed at us. Immediately, he strode over, with the two Alchemists in tow. I looked around, trying to see if we could run somewhere or at least catch a taxi.
“That’s them,” the woman was saying. “I told you.”
“Excuse me,” said the guard. “I need to bring you inside and ask you some questions. I understand you may be involved in something of interest to the authorities.”
“Adrian,” I said through gritted teeth. “We can’t go with them.” I knew how these things worked. If we ended up in police or even this hotel’s custody, the Alchemists would simply work a little paperwork magic to get us turned over to them.
Adrian met the guard squarely in the eyes. “There’s been some mistake,” said Adrian amiably. There was a warm, honeyed quality to his voice that even drew me in. “We’re just here to have a good time, spend lots of money in the casino. These two are the ones causing trouble. They’re trying to distract you from what they’re really up to.”
The guard’s brow furrowed as the compulsion poured over him. I shivered, both impressed and a little disquieted at just how powerful Adrian was. The Alchemists realized what was going on too. “He’s lying,” the man snapped. “Seize them, and bring them in. We’ll help restrain them.”
“‘Seize them?’ Really?” asked Adrian. “I knew you guys were into the Middle Ages. I just didn’t realize you were still trying to live in them.” He focused his energy back on the guard. “Let us go. That’s our taxi that just pulled up. And don’t let them stop us.”
“Of course,” said the guard.
Adrian steered me toward a taxi that had, in fact, pulled up. The two Alchemists tried to come after us, but the guard, still under Adrian’s influence, blocked their way. The guy actually went so far as to punch the guard, allowing his female colleague to hurry over to the cab. By that time, Adrian and I had gotten inside, and he slammed the door and locked it as she pounded on the window.
“Drive,” he told the driver. “Now.”
The driver looked more than a little alarmed at the woman beating on his cab, especially when the male Alchemist joined him. “Go!” I urged.
The driver hit the gas. “Where to?”
For a moment, neither of us spoke. Then, I said, “The Witching Hour.”
Adrian gave me a sharp look. “You sure that’s a good idea?” he asked in a low voice, as the driver pulled into traffic. “The Moroi cooperate with the Alchemists.”
“I’m playing a hunch.” Seeing his surprised look, I said, “Well, it is Las Vegas.”
The taxi took us midway down the Strip, and as we pulled up, I warned Adrian, “There’ll likely be an Alchemist or two here waiting for us. Don’t search around for them or act like you notice one if you see them. Just walk straight inside and head for the restroom. I’ll do the same. When you come out, don’t wait for me. Go play cards or something. I’ll find you.”
That brought a frown to his face, but he didn’t argue as we paid and got out of the cab. The Witching Hour was no place I’d ever been, but it was well known in Alchemist circles. It was a Moroi-run casino and hotel, and while plenty of humans patronized it, its owners made sure it was chock-full of lots of things that catered to Moroi needs. We walked straight inside, and a Moroi bellman politely held the door open for us. Inside, it was like any other Las Vegas establishment: an array of lights and noise and far-ranging emotions. Adrian followed orders perfectly, going straight for the restrooms to the side of the lobby. I ducked inside the women’s room and into a stall.
