Silver Shadows (30 page)

We haggled some more details, but he knew he was getting a good deal out of all this and wanted it. We finally settled, and he showed me an assortment of rings. I didn’t have much time and chose a simple engagement style that would hold the rectangular diamond with smaller rectangular rubies on each side. I’d planned on just getting plain bands, but he showed me a set of matching white gold rings with tiny rubies scattered throughout them that appealed to me. They seemed like a tribute to the cufflink that had been sacrificed on behalf of this crazy scheme. I signed off on everything, took my cash, and reminded him he had an hour.

From there, it was a trip to the nearest casino with a high-stakes poker room—with a very important phone call made along the way. Playing with that kind of money was a bit daunting, especially knowing I had such little time and that so much was riding on it. If I lost it, there’d be no time to win it back, and a lot of plans would fall through. I stayed calm and refused to panic, treating this as a casual game and relying on my usual trick of reading auras. The players here were no different than the others I’d played against, I told myself. They were just throwing around much bigger bets.

An hour later, I left the table with enough to cover all the wedding expenses I racked up, as well as a way out of Las Vegas. I headed back up to the jeweler, who’d come through with what he promised. I pocketed the rings and placed another phone call as I made two stops: one at drugstore and one at a wine
store. With a sigh of relief, I realized I’d completed the last of my tasks, short of the wedding itself. I headed back to the bridal shop, amazed to find that I was right on schedule.

The last two hours had been so frenetic, so anxiety-producing, that I felt as though my world had been put on fast forward, with everything needing to be done
now now now
. And so, it was more than a little surreal when I stepped into the store and saw Sydney …

… and time as I knew it suddenly froze.

I’d meant it when I’d told her to get whatever she wanted. I didn’t care. She really could’ve shown up at the altar in a teal T-shirt, and I would’ve married her with my heart full of love. That being said, I’d had a few ideas of what kind of dress she’d go with. Something modest, say with long lace sleeves, was my biggest guess. Or maybe one of those simple kinds with a short-sleeved top that had no extra embellishment. She was Sydney, after all. I expected pragmatism from her.

What I didn’t expect was old Hollywood glamor. The dress wrapped around her snuggly, showing a body that in no way looked too skinny, with folds of organza and crystal beaded embellishment. Just below her hips, it flared out mermaid style in a burst of tulle that was also decorated with scattered embellishment. Only one delicate lace-and-crystal strap rested on her shoulder; the other shoulder was bare. Her hair, with its new extra length, had been swept into a simple updo with a crystal comb holding it into place at the back of her head, with a long, sheer veil trailing from it. Sparkling, dangling earrings were her only jewelry, and some masterful makeup artist had covered up all signs of her recent fatigue—and her golden lily—without making it look excessive. It was perfect.

She was perfect. Radiant. Glorious. A vision.

“I feel like I should be on my knees again,” I said in a small voice.

She gave me a nervous smile and ran a hand over the glittering dress. “Just tell me you can afford all this, because I might take back what I said about going with the T-shirt.”

“I can afford it,” I said, still awestruck by her beauty.

She gave me a small nudge. “Then you’d better get dressed.”

The consultant was happy to show me to a dressing room, happier still when she saw my money. The tux they’d picked out was classic and elegant, double-breasted and black. The consultant made sure I wanted to buy it, rather than rent it, and I reassured her I did. Renting would’ve required a credit card, and I wanted to use mine as little as possible, since that provided a trail. The more I could do in cash, the better.

Sydney’s eyes shone when I stepped out of the dressing room. I felt paltry next to her brilliance, but she assured me I looked amazing. The consultant helped pin a white peony to my jacket, and I noticed Sydney was carrying a small bouquet of pink ones in one hand. In her other hand, she held the two bags we’d been juggling since coming to Nevada, and now I had more to add to the collection. We managed to consolidate them all into one bag before leaving the store, and she gave the wine-store bag a puzzled glance.

“What’s that for?”

“Our honeymoon,” I said.

“I figured that’s what the drugstore bag was for,” she remarked.

“That too,” I promised.

We finished up the last of our payment and then walked
out hand in hand, completing the last bit of our journey by foot. Our destination was the Firenze, a new hotel with an Italian theme that this shopping complex connected to. I could tell Sydney was a little self-conscious walking through the crowds in her wedding finery, but that was by no means an uncommon sight in Las Vegas. People smiled as we passed, and many congratulated us. It did, perhaps, attract more attention than we wanted, but I kind of liked pretending all the people we passed were guests attending our wedding. That, and I was more than a little proud to show off the gorgeous bride at my side.

Just as we reached the Firenze’s entrance, a new text came in from Jill. I read it and found a big smile spreading over my face. “What is it?” asked Sydney.

“Wait and see,” I said. “We just got a major wedding present.”

The Firenze, like most big Las Vegas resorts, had a section of wedding chapels, and I led Sydney to them through the casino. A nervous-looking man in a hotel uniform paced the wing and came to a halt when he saw us.

“Are you Adrian?” he asked.

“I sure am.”

He looked relieved. “Okay, you’ve got ten minutes to get in and out before I’m in big trouble. There’s a big party that’s got this reserved, and they’ll start showing up soon.”

“That’s all the time we need,” I told him, handing over a stack of cash.

“Right this way,” he said, beckoning us to a door marked
TUSCAN CHAPEL
. He opened it for us.

Sydney gave me an amazed look. “You bribed our way into a wedding?”

“The good places book up in advance, even in Las Vegas.” I gestured her inside. “This was the only way I could get you to Italy.”

She stepped inside and laughed, looking around with delight. The chapel was small, designed to hold about fifty people, and was painted with an American idea of Italian grandeur. Murals on the walls depicted fields of grapes, while the domed ceiling was covered in angels. An abundance of gold trim throughout the room questioned good taste, but I could tell from her shining eyes that it didn’t matter.

At the front of the room was a podium decked with flowers. An officiant stood behind it, with one of the hotel’s staff photographers hovering nearby. I owed them money too. The guy who’d let us in worked for the wedding reservation desk, and I’d essentially had to do some fast talking over the phone earlier today, promising to make this illicit affair worth his while if he could get us a room and the appropriate personnel. We set our bags on an empty pew and started to approach the official when I remembered something.

“Oh, hang on. You need this first.”

I caught hold of her hand and slipped on the newly made engagement ring. Sydney’s breath caught at the glittering array, and then she looked up at me in alarm, finally realizing where the funding for this adventure had come from. “Adrian, those are your aunt’s.”

I led her forward. “And now they’re yours.”

The officiant knew about our time constraints and kept the service pretty basic, mostly sticking to what was legally required in the state of Nevada. He did add one part that was his own design, words that burned into me and repeated in my
brain later when I slipped the little glittering circle of rubies onto Sydney’s finger: “Until now, you have always lived your life alone. Every decision you’ve made has been for you and you alone. Now, and for the rest of your days, your life will be tied to another’s. Every decision you make will be for both of you. What one does affects the other. You are a family, a team … inseparable and unbreakable.”

They were powerful words for someone like me to hear, someone who’d indeed lived a pretty selfish existence. But as I met Sydney’s shining eyes and saw the hope and joy radiating from her, I felt up to them. I was ready to take that selfless step with her, to know that everything we did now was about the two of us and, eventually, our family. This was the biggest decision I’d made in my life … and the one I did most happily.

When the vows were said and the rings were on, the officiant pronounced us husband and wife. I drew Sydney to me and kissed her, full of love and life and the happiness of what we had in store for us. When we finally pulled apart, the minister added, “I’m very pleased to introduce the world to Adrian and Sydney Ivashkov.”

Sydney’s smile turned a little wry at that, and I couldn’t help but groan. “Oh no. What?”

She laughed. “Nothing, nothing. I just always figured I’d keep my own name. Or at least hyphenate.”

“Really, woman?” I said. “You bring that up now? You owe me another kiss for that.”

I drew her back to me and actually got two kisses. We signed the paperwork with the officiant, and then I paid him and the photographer their bonuses. I also bought the memory card out of the photographer’s camera then and there, despite
his protests about how he normally touched up the photos and uploaded them for online viewing. “No time,” I said, waving the magic wad of cash around. It was nearly as good as compulsion.

With everything done, we gathered up our things and said farewell to our tiny slice of Italy. “What now?” asked Sydney, as we moved toward the door hand in hand.

“Now, we get out of here, and believe me, we’re going in style.”

The reservations guy held the door open for us, more than relieved his little escapade was over. I thanked him again and stepped out into the main hallway …

… where a group of Alchemists was waiting for us.

A
N UNSEEN FORCE
suddenly sent the Alchemists flying against the walls, and I didn’t have to ask to know that was Adrian’s handiwork. I felt his hand on my back, pushing me forward. “Come on.”

We tore off down the hall, not looking back, both of us knowing the Alchemists wouldn’t stay down for long. “We just have to make it to the Blue Lagoon,” he told me.

“Is that a pool here or something?” I asked. My shoes and dress made it harder to keep up with him, and he grabbed my hand to pull me along.

“It’s a new hotel. South end of the Strip.”

“South end …” I pulled up my mental map of Las Vegas Boulevard. “That’s at least a mile or more away!”

“Sorry,” he said. “It couldn’t be helped. We have some pretty specific parameters, and they were one of the few places that fit the bill.”

I didn’t ask for elaboration as we emerged onto the gaming
floor. Normally, I would’ve welcomed a congested area to get lost in, but Adrian and I didn’t exactly blend in wearing our wedding finery. The fact that we were tearing through the crowd and bumping into people kind of made us stand out too.

“Sorry,” I called back, when Adrian accidentally bumped into a waitress carrying a tray of drinks. They spilled on some very surprised people at a blackjack table, but there was no time for further apologies or amends. A quick glance back didn’t reveal the Alchemists, but I could see signs of commotion in the crowd, making me think our pursuers were hot on our trail.

The casino floor was like a maze to me, but Adrian seemed to have a sense of purpose. Before long, we emerged out the front door, to the Firenze’s circular drive, which was abuzz with a whole different type of chaos. Evening had fallen, and the number of people moving in and around us had increased significantly, as pleasure-seekers came out for gambling, shows, and other diversions. The Alchemists hadn’t followed us out yet, and we both peered around for our next move.

“Where are the taxis?” exclaimed Adrian.

A large group of young women, dressed to impress, stood near us. One of them wore a “bride-to-be” sash and a rhinestone tiara, and the vibe surrounding them suggested they’d already had more than one drink in her honor tonight. They ooh’ed and ahh’ed when they saw us. “We’re waiting for a taxi too,” said the girl nearest me. She giggled. “A few of them, actually.”

“Are you in some kind of trouble?” asked another.

“Yes,” I said, thinking swiftly. “We eloped, and my dad doesn’t approve. He and some of my family are right behind us, trying to get us to annul.”

It wasn’t
that
much of a stretch of the truth, and they gasped
and exclaimed in dismay. Adrian swept his gaze over all of them and said in a honey-like voice, “It’d be really great if you could let us have this next cab.” I looked up and saw a yellow taxi approaching where we all stood.

Mass suggestion was difficult, but drinking had made this group weak-willed. And honestly, they might have helped anyway in the name of romance. They started chattering about true love, and the bride-to-be waved us toward the taxi. “Take it, take it!”

As Adrian and I were getting in, the Alchemists appeared at the bank of glass doors and pushed them open. “Hey,” I called to the girls, waving my bouquet. “Get some early practice!” I chucked it toward them, purposely aiming over and past them—right to the Alchemists coming out the doors. The girls screamed in delight, turning into a rabid pack as they all went after the bouquet and collided right with our startled pursuers. I didn’t see how it resolved, because by that time, I was in the car, and Adrian was giving orders to the Blue Lagoon. The cab pulled out.

“Let’s hope this is as simple as getting a ride down the street,” said Adrian grimly. “How did they find us?”

“Hard to say. Could’ve been as simple as their eyes and ears catching sight of us somewhere.” I sighed in dismay. “This is my fault. If I hadn’t gotten so silly about a ‘real’ wedding, we would’ve been out of this city a long time ago.”

He slipped an arm around me. “No way,” he said. “I’m glad we did this. They’ve taken so much from us already. They can’t take this day from us too.”

“At the very least,” I said wryly, “I should’ve anticipated something like this happening and picked a dress that was
easier to move in. This mermaid style does
not
have a lot of leg mobility, but that lady assured me if she laced it up correctly in the back, she could make it look like I have more of a figure than I do.”

“Your figure looks pretty good from where I’m sitting,” he said, running his fingers along the beads on my shoulder strap.

I smiled up at him and then glanced around as I noticed something. “Why aren’t we moving?”

The driver gestured irritably at his windshield. “Typical this time of night. Everyone’s going somewhere. You kids aren’t trying to get to a chapel appointment are you?”

“Already been,” said Adrian.

“Good thing,” said the driver as we inched forward. I saw his eyes look up to the rearview mirror. “Because you may be waiting here a little bit. Only way to get around all this is on a motorcycle, like those nuts.”

Adrian and I peered behind us. All I could see at first was a sea of headlights on the crowded road, but then a ways back, I spotted four individual headlights moving and weaving in and around the stopped and idling cars. Adrian, his vision superior to mine at night, grimaced. “Sydney, I’ve got a bad feeling about that.”

“We need to get out,” I said decisively. “Now.”

Adrian didn’t question me and simply handed over money to cover our current fare, much to the driver’s astonishment. “Are you crazy? You’re in the middle of a million cars!”

That became obvious when we got out and tried to cross to the nearest side of the road. Horns blared at us as we darted across Las Vegas Boulevard, but at least most of them were stopped, so we weren’t posing too much of a risk. In fact, the
only vehicles that seemed to be getting anywhere were the four motorcycles. They kept moving on their earlier trajectory, simply trying to get farther down the road, and I thought maybe we’d eluded them. But then, just as we reached the curb and stepped up on the sidewalk, I saw one of the motorcycles turn sharply in our direction. The others soon followed suit.

The sidewalk was packed with people, and like the road, no one seemed to be moving. “They won’t mow down a bunch of pedestrians with their bikes, will they?” asked Adrian as we hurried through the crowd as fast as they could.

“Not likely,” I said, “but they’ll probably gain on us pretty fast once they get on foot. And they won’t have qualms about just abandoning the motorcycles.” We halted as a knot of camera-snapping tourists refused to part, forcing us to make a wide circle around them. “Why is everyone just standing around?”

“Because we’re in front of the Bellagio,” said Adrian, staring up at a sprawling hotel. “Their fountains are probably about to come on. Pretty sure there’s a tram or monorail here that’ll get us up the Strip if we can get to it.”

“Beats running,” I said. I was fully aware that not only my dress but also my shoes were slowing our pace. I’d at least had the sense to decline the five-inch-heeled “to die for” shoes that the consultant had initially recommended, but even these little kitten-heeled ones were starting to pinch and take their toll.

Adrian and I made the Bellagio’s main door our goal, a journey complicated by the excited crowds growing thicker as we neared the fountains. We had to go considerably around them to make any sort of progress, which also took us away from the most direct route to the door. We’d just made it to the far side of the fountains from the road when I glanced back and
saw the foursome running toward us, much more uncaring of whom they pushed aside than we had been.

“I didn’t know the Alchemists had such buff recruits,” remarked Adrian.

“Sometimes they outsource extra security forces for—”

My words were cut off by exclamations of delight as the fountains suddenly sprang to life. Streams of water shot hundreds of feet in the air, and the opening bars of “Viva Las Vegas” sounded. Adrian started to run again, but I held him back. “Hang on,” I said.

The Alchemists had pushed their way as close to the fountains as possible, much to the outrage of those who’d been waiting for a while. The foursome scanned around, using the somewhat clear vantage point to search for us. I made eye contact with one, and he gestured his colleagues toward me. I summoned my magic, drawing on long hours of practice with channeling the elements to call upon the essence of the water near us. The Alchemists only managed to take a few steps in our direction when I made one of the streams from the fountain bend down, almost like an arm, toward them. My extensive elemental practice made reaching out to a pure element easier than it might once have been, but I was no Moroi water user. My control of the stream was sloppy, inadvertently spraying most of the people within twenty feet of the Alchemists. I gritted my teeth and poured all my magic and energy into giving the stream as much solidity as I could as it swept toward the Alchemists. It wrapped around the four of them and lifted them into the air, eliciting cries of astonishment and a lot of camera flashes. At this point, the feat was too much for my powers, but it achieved as much of my goal as I needed. I had the Alchemists over the
fountain’s lake by this point, and I released the magic—which in turn released them from their suspension. They dropped into the water with a splash.

“Wow,” someone near me said. “They didn’t have that in the show the last time I was here!”

As Adrian and I continued our run to the hotel, the ex-Alchemist in me couldn’t help but wince at the public display of the supernatural I’d just made—especially with so many recording devices on hand. It went against every principle I’d been taught about hiding the paranormal world from ordinary people, and I tried to console myself with the knowledge that at least no one would be able to pinpoint how exactly the fountain had done what it did. And if the Alchemists were truly concerned with the public reaction, I had no doubt they’d find a way to spin it in the news.

We made it into the Bellagio unchallenged, and I had only a moment to admire the lobby’s beautiful glass flowers as Adrian asked a worker for directions to the tram station. The way was straightforward, but it required leaving the hotel again. We didn’t dare slow down and made the journey at a half jog, which was itself conspicuous. All the Alchemists would have to do when they eventually made their way out of the water was ask if anyone had seen a bride and groom running through there. I could only hope security would detain them and that there’d be a tram right at the station when we arrived.

There wasn’t, but we only had a five-minute wait, and no one showed up in that time. We got on board and sank into a couple of seats, both of us exhausted. “Catch your breath,” said Adrian. “We’re going to the end of the line.”

I nodded, weary from both the sprint and intense magic
use. I crossed my legs and pulled off one of my shoes so that I could massage my sore foot. A woman sitting across from me in electric blue Skechers studied my shoes admiringly.

“Those are great,” she said.

“What size do you wear?” I asked.

“Seven.”

“Me too. You want to trade?”

Her eyes went wide. “Are you serious?”

“I need something blue to complete the look.” I held up one white shoe, glittering with crystal embellishment. “They’re Kate Spade.”

Her friend elbowed her. “Do it!” she said in a stage whisper.

A little while later, I was suited up in new shoes. They couldn’t save me from the blisters I’d already accrued, but when we reached our stop and I stood, my feet certainly thanked me for the change in support. The tulle at the bottom of the dress settled over them, and no one was any the wiser about what lay beneath. No pursuers awaited us when we stepped out of the tram, and we had an almost leisurely one-block walk to the Blue Lagoon. I entertained a five-minute fantasy that we were here for our honeymoon, out enjoying the sights like any other normal couple. That pleasant daydream was shattered when we stepped into the Blue Lagoon’s lobby and spotted a suited woman leaning against a wall. When she saw us, she immediately straightened up and spoke into an earpiece.

“She’s getting backup,” I said, noting that she only watched us but didn’t move. “They’ve had all afternoon to set up spies in every major hotel out here while I shopped.”

Adrian was undaunted. “Ignore her. We’re home free now. They’ll never get enough people here in time to stop us.” He
went straight to the front desk and asked, “Excuse me, could you direct us to your helicopter landing pad?”

I was nearly as surprised to hear those words as the desk attendant was. “Do you have authorization to access it? It’s in a very secure area, not open to general hotel guests.” He looked us over dubiously. “
Are
you even guests?”

“No,” said Adrian. “But we’re expecting a, uh, ride up there. There should be a helicopter coming in from Olga Dobrova Academy any minute now.” That was another surprise. Olga Dobrova was a small, newish Moroi school up near the border of California and northern Nevada.

The attendant typed something into his computer. “What are your names?” We told him, and he shook his head. “Sorry. You aren’t on the authorized list to go up there.”

“Can you even tell us if it’s arrived?” exclaimed Adrian. “We’re the whole reason it’s here!”

The man shook his head. “I’m sorry, I can’t help you unless you get authorization. Next, please.”

Adrian fixed his gaze squarely on him. “No, you’re going to—”

“He said he can’t help you.”

An impatient man in an Elvis T-shirt shouldered his way in front of Adrian, followed by a similarly dressed woman and a group of kids. They immediately began talking at once, launching into a tale of woe about how their air conditioning didn’t work. We stepped out of the way in dismay, and I noted that the watching Alchemist was gone.

“What’s going on?” I asked.

“Best laid plans going awry,” muttered Adrian. “This was Jill’s wedding gift: our escape plan out of Vegas. She convinced
Lissa that I was in serious danger and got her to order the helicopter sent here to take us back to Dobrova and then catch one of their private planes back to Court. Long journey with all the refueling, but it’d avoid public places and no more chance run-ins with Alchemists. Jill said the helicopter was set to come here, but I guess no one realized that for us to even get to it, there needed to be some kind of paperwork done on this end.”