Silver Shadows (26 page)

“No,” I said. “And it’s about time, especially after those.” I
pointed at the pile of khakis on the floor. “Which we’re going to burn.”

She laughed again, and it was the most exquisite sound I’d ever heard. She went with the fuchsia shirt and a pair of white shorts. “You’re the best,” she told me.

I soon found out I wasn’t the only one in her heart, however, when we settled down to eat our dinner. She summoned Hopper out of his inert state, and tears spilled from her eyes when he transformed from a rigid glittering statue to a dull-scaled, weak little creature that was nearly as skinny as she was. She cradled him to her chest and rocked him, telling him the kinds of nonsensical things people do to comfort pets and small children. She told him over and over that everything would be okay now, and I almost wondered if she were comforting herself as much as him. She kept breaking off little bites of her turkey sandwich for him and was halfway through when I finally realized what was happening.

“Hey, hey,” I said. “Save some for yourself.”

“He’s so hungry,” she said. “He can’t even make that little pathetic mewling sound he usually does when he wants food.”

“And that extra-small T-shirt is still too big on you. Finish your sandwich, and he can have my crusts.”

She reluctantly handed him over, and I swore Hopper glared at me for depriving him of her attention. I loved the little guy too, but there was no way he was getting preferential treatment over Sydney. She ate the rest of her sandwich under my watchful eye but wouldn’t touch any of the assorted candy bars I’d bought, no matter my urging. I honestly would’ve liked to have seen her eat them all but knew better than to point out how much she needed sugar and fat.

Hopper fell asleep after that, and I thought Sydney would too. Instead, she invited me to the bedroom and drew me on to the bed with her. “You sure you don’t need some rest?” I asked.

She wrapped her arms around my neck. “I need you.”

Our lips met in our first real kiss since she’d been taken away. It set me aflame, reminding me just how agonizingly much I’d missed her. I’d meant what I told her: It didn’t matter how thin she’d become. She was still the most beautiful woman in the world to me, and there was no one else I wanted more. Not only that, there was no one else whose presence I felt more
right
in. Even in the midst of our escape from Death Valley and getting situated in these uncertain conditions, there was a comfortable certainty that just in being with her, there was nothing that couldn’t be accomplished.

I trailed kisses down her neck and mentally took back what I’d said about the bath gel being cheap. The jasmine mingled with her own natural scent was intoxicating, far better than any perfume I’d ever gotten her. Her legs felt like silk under my touch, and I was astonished at how quickly my desire ramped up—even more astonished at how hers did too. I worried it might be too much too soon, but when I tried to dissuade her again, she only pulled me closer.

“You don’t understand,” she murmured, running one of her hands through my hair. “You don’t understand how much I need this, how much I need you and to remember I’m alive and in love. They try to take that from you in that place, but I never forgot. I never forgot you, Adrian, and now that you’re here, I …”

She couldn’t finish, and she didn’t have to. I knew exactly what she meant. We kissed again, the kind of kiss that bound us
in way that was so much more than physical. I was trying to pull her shirt off when she suddenly paused and asked breathlessly, “You
did
get something at the store, right?”

My brain was too addled with lust and thoughts of her to fully process what she was saying. “Huh? I got lots of things.”

“Protection,” she said meaningfully. “Wasn’t there a drugstore across the street? Bigger selection there than the other place.”

“I—oh. That kind of thing. Uh, no, I didn’t. I guess I forgot.”

Before Sydney had been taken, she’d been on the pill, and I’d never really had to think about birth control. I think she preferred it that way, not really trusting anyone but herself to handle such important matters. I sighed.

“Don’t I get points for being more concerned about feeding you and dressing you in bright colors than I was about getting you into bed?”

She placed a light kiss against my lips and smiled. “You get lots of points. But unfortunately, you don’t get this.”

I leaned over her and brushed golden strands of hair from her face. “Do you know how torn I am right now? I mean, I’m disappointed, obviously … but at the same time, I’m kind of in love with you even more for still being your meticulously careful self, in spite of everything that’s happened.”

“Really?” She shifted so that I could rest my head on her chest. “My meticulous and careful nature is what you love?”

“There’re so many things to love, Sage. Who can keep track?”

As frustrating as it was to be unexpectedly denied that physical consummation, I still found myself basking in that earlier sense of bliss that just came from being near her. Did
I want sex? Sure, but I wanted her more—her presence, her laughter, her spirit. The churning hormones in my body soon quieted, and I found more than enough ecstasy just lying in her arms. And when she dozed off soon thereafter, I had a feeling my oversight in not going to the drugstore might have been for the best, no matter what she’d said. Getting her back to full health was most important right now, and I was pretty sure rest and candy bars were the best way to help.

As for me, I was too restless. Part of it was just the day’s excitement and being with her. Another part was that it was still earlier than I was used to going to sleep. I loved being entwined with her, but after a while, I cautiously slipped out of bed and tucked the covers around her. I studied her fondly a few moments before turning off the lights and creeping out to the living room, careful to close the door behind me so as not to disturb her.

I settled onto the couch with a candy bar and watched TV at a low volume, needing to settle my spinning mind. I knew Sydney would undoubtedly have all sorts of plans and deductions that were better than mine, but it was hard not to think about the future. Where could we go? Was there a safe place? And whether it was with Marcus or on our own, what exactly was it we were going to do with our lives? So much energy had just been spent on being together—itself a daunting task—that we’d hardly ever paused to discuss what we’d truly do. One of our outlandish escape plans? College for her? An obscure life in the middle of nowhere? Fighting for the freedom of Moroi and ex-Alchemists?

There will be no peace for you
, whispered Aunt Tatiana, in one of her more antagonistic moods.
No peace for you and your human girl. This was a mistake.

No
, I told her.
We’ll make this work. We have to.

How then?
she demanded.

I had no answers after staring at the TV for over an hour and was considering going to bed when I heard screams from the bedroom. In a flash, I was off the couch, hurtling toward the bedroom. I ripped the door open and flung on the light, drawing spirit’s power to me to attack the raging band of Alchemists I expected to see coming through the window. But there was no one—only Sydney, sitting up in bed, her screams piercing the night. I let go of spirit and hurried to the bed, pulling her to me. To my astonishment, she struck out against me.

“No! No! Don’t touch me!”

“Sydney, it’s me,” I said, trying to catch hold of her hands before she did real damage. Even half-asleep, she’d apparently retained lessons from our old self-defense instructor, Malachi Wolfe. “It’s okay. You’re okay. Everything’s okay.”

She struggled against me a bit more, and in the poor lighting, I could see a frantic, terrified look in her eyes. At last, her thrashing stilled, and recognition lit her features. She buried her face in my chest and began to cry—not the wistful tears of love from her reunion with Eddie or the mournful ones for Hopper’s sad state. These were full-on sobs that wracked her body and rendered her incoherent, no matter how much I tried to comfort her or ask what was wrong. I could do nothing but hold her and stroke her hair, waiting for her to calm down. When she did, intermittent sobs still occasionally broke up her speech.

“I … I thought I was back there, Adrian. In re-education. When I woke up. It was so dark there—I mean, until I joined the others. But when I was in that cell, there was no light. They literally kept me in the dark. It hurt when I got out—looking at
the light. Three months, Adrian. Three months I was in a cell smaller than our bathroom here, in the dark. I thought I could handle it … I thought I was stronger than it … but when I woke up, and you were gone, and I couldn’t see anything …”

She broke down in tears again, and it was all I could do to get a grip on my own emotions. I was sad for her, of course. Sad and hurt that she’d had to suffer like she had. But at the same time I was angry, so angry that if I’d known any of this back at the re-education center, I would’ve been right by Chantal’s side—to help her, not pull her back. I wasn’t given to violence or even anger that much, but a rage burned in me that the Alchemists could’ve done this to someone so bright and brilliant, who’d served them so faithfully and would’ve continued that service if there’d only been a way for her to do so while being true to her own heart. They’d tried to break her—not just her thoughts but her very self. Equally appalling was the realization that it might not be over yet, that getting her out of that place wasn’t enough. What kind of mental damage had they done? Was this going to haunt us the rest of our lives, even if she was free? The implications were staggering, and in that moment, I hated the Alchemists as I’d never hated anyone else.

Destroy them!
Aunt Tatiana said.
We’ll find them and rip them limb from limb!

“You’re not there anymore,” I told Sydney, squeezing her tightly. “You’re with me, and I’m not going to let anything happen to you ever again.”

She clung to me and stammered out, “I don’t want to sleep with the lights out.”

“You don’t ever have to sleep in the dark again,” I swore to her.

I stayed in bed with her this time, lights on as promised. It took her a little longer than it had before to calm down and fall asleep, but when she did, I could tell it was a deep and much-needed sleep. My own sleep wasn’t quite as solid, both because of the lights and because I kept waking to check on her. It was worth my own discomfort, though, to know she was safe and secure.

She woke up bright and refreshed, giving no sign that last night’s breakdown had ever happened. Best of all, she had an appetite. “I don’t know what to order,” she said, scanning the room service menu with Hopper on her lap. “Obviously, I’m going to get coffee—you have no idea how badly I want that—but I’m torn between the farmer’s omelet and the blueberry pancakes.”

I leaned down and kissed the top of her head. “Get both.”

“How’s our money?” she asked wryly.

“About to get better. I’ll head downstairs to the casino today. You want to come and be my good luck charm?”

She shook her head. “I’d rather stay here and eat. Don’t you want something?”

“They’ll give me coffee down there. That’s all I need for now.”

That, and I could’ve used some blood, which was another issue we hadn’t taken into consideration when we’d started this plan. Like so many things, though, that was for later. I wasn’t in dire straits yet, but it would have to be dealt with.

After last night, I thought Sydney might have an issue with me leaving, but she was fearless with sunlight and Jackie’s bag of tricks around. She showered with me—which was both a delight and a torment—and sent me off when her giant breakfast
showed up. “Don’t give it all to Hopper,” I warned. She grinned and waved goodbye.

Down in the casino, things were quieter than they would’ve been at night but still pretty active. That was the beauty of Nevada. No matter the time of day, people always wanted to try their luck. I found a table with four other players with easy-to-read auras and settled down to business. Even though I had a considerable edge, I couldn’t flaunt it, lest I attract the attention of those running the casino. So, while I won the majority of the time, I made sure to lose every so often too, to allay suspicion. I also offered to buy a round of morning Bloody Marys, which went a long way to further goodwill and worsen the others’ game play.

I was nowhere near retirement, but after a couple hours, I’d built up a decent enough amount to take back to Sydney. I planned on doing a couple more hands first, and as I did a quick aura check when the bet came around, something caught my attention. It had actually caught my attention earlier, but I hadn’t given it much thought. When I used spirit to look at my competitors’ auras, I inadvertently caught sight of everyone else’s around me. What was odd today was that there were a lot of people with yellow in their auras. Yellow—and occasionally orange, which I was also seeing a lot of—was a thinking person’s aura, an academic’s aura. Sydney’s aura had a lot of yellow. It wasn’t something you generally saw a lot of chronic gamblers with, certainly not this time of day. Those who only gambled for occasional fun and novelty came out at night, not early mornings. This was the hardcore lot, the desperate lot … and their auras should’ve reflected as much.

I pondered this as I made my bet and played out the hand. I
ended up splitting the pot with the guy next to me, much to his delight. As the next hand was dealt, I checked the auras around me again and was once more struck by the overabundance of yellow. I also noticed something else. No one with a yellow aura was directly looking at me, but they were arranged around me pretty symmetrically in the room. Just me. When I looked past them, the colors of other patrons shifted back to what I would have expected in a casino.

Yellow. A thinking person’s color.

An Alchemist’s color.

When the next hand started, I waved myself out and took out my cell phone, wishing I’d thought to pick up a prepaid one for Sydney. That would have to be our next priority for sure. Trying not to look panicked, I typed out a text to Marcus.