The Shadow Prince Page 93

I pull down the sun visor and angle the vanity mirror until I can see who he’s talking about. There’s a rider dressed in all black leather on a black bullet bike behind us. He’s wearing a full-screened helmet that makes it impossible to see his face.

“Who do you think it is?”

“I don’t know, but I certainly don’t think it’s another one of your friends. Simon said he’d send someone after me if I ever left town again. He also said it wouldn’t be a pleasant experience.” A strange tone comes off his body and he white-knuckle grips the steering wheel. It makes me wonder if he’s thinking about what happened to Dax and Abbie when they tried to run away. “I think I’ve seen this same guy around Olympus Hills a couple of times. He’s probably been following us since we left, but I was too distracted by Tobin to notice.”

“Do you think we can lose him?” Tobin asks.

“Maybe.” Haden glances at me and then points at the touch screen in the center console of the car. “This thing has a Web browser. Use it to get on to YouTube. I want you to do a search for evasive driving techniques in heavy traffic.”

“Seriously?” Tobin asks.

“I am being completely earnest.”

“Awesome,” Tobin practically squeals.

“Or maybe ‘how to lose a tail in a car chase’ or something like that.”

I type in a few options until Haden tells me to stop. I click on the video and we watch as we idle in traffic. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that YouTube has an instructional video on evasive driving techniques, but still, I’m not sure how this is going to help. I can barely understand anything the drivers in the video are saying, let alone remember any of it.

“Okay, that’s good,” Haden says. “Everyone buckled in?”

When traffic breaks up a bit, he changes lanes, then changes again until we’re speeding down the HOV lane.

“This is so not legal!” Lexie shouts from the backseat.

Haden swerves the car back into the left lane and then the middle lane. I can’t handle it. I grip the oh-crap bar above my door and close my eyes as hard as I can. I get a little carsick from the jerking motions of the car as Haden weaves through traffic. At one point, we’re sailing forward at another, we’re flying in reverse!

Lexie screams.

Tobin cheers like he’s on a roller coaster.

And Garrick groans like he’s about to throw up.

I suddenly question whether I ever want to get my license if there are drivers like Haden on the road.

The car stops reversing and whips to the right. I can tell we’re getting off the freeway. Three more sharp turns follow, but I don’t open my eyes until we come to a stop. We’re sitting in an alley somewhere in Las Vegas proper.

“I think we lost him,” Haden says, breathing hard.

Garrick opens the door, stumbles out into the alley, and pukes. I cringe at the sound.

“We need to find a place to hide. We’ve got to get off the streets before we’re spotted again. Find someplace to stay overnight if we have to.”

“We’re in Vegas,” Lexie says. “Pick a hotel, duh.”

I raise my eyebrows, surprised to get a suggestion from the “captive” portion of our audience. A hotel is the obvious answer.

“I can’t use my credit card,” Haden says. “Simon tracks all of my spending; he’d find us in minutes. I’ve only got about sixty dollars in cash after the diner.”

“I don’t have much cash, either.” Between getting a new outfit for the festival and buying Christmas presents to bring back to Ellis, I am pretty much tapped out in the cash department.

“I could charge it on my mom’s card,” Tobin suggests.

“No,” I say, dismissing the idea without explanation. I don’t want Tobin’s mom getting wind of our location, either. “I guess we could try to get a cheap motel room off the strip.”

“Um, no,” Lexie says. “No way! If I’m going to be held hostage in Vegas, it is not going to happen in some bedbug-ridden, pay-by-the hour motel. We’re going to the Crossroads Casino and Hotel. My dad is one of the owners. I can get us a room.”

The Crossroads? I have never stayed in a hotel, let alone in Vegas, but the name strikes a familiar chord. “And how do we know you’re not going to just rat us out and try to make a break for it?” I ask her.

“Because we’re in Vegas. And you know what they say: what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas. You guys can go search for this ‘Oracle’ all you want. I’ll go run up a spa bill on my daddy’s tab and hitch a ride home with you guys when you all come back to your senses.”

“Won’t your parents mind?”

“They’ve gone to Belize for the holidays—without me. They’ve been gone for three weeks already, so they won’t even know.” She crosses her arms around her orange purse. “Frankly, this little ride on the crazy-town express is the most fun I’ve had in months. So, no, I’m not going to rat you out and make a break for it. I’m going to get a chemical peel, a mani-pedi, and run up a room service bill like you’ve never seen.”

Considering I’ve never seen a room service bill, I don’t doubt it. I also don’t doubt that she’s telling the truth. It seems very Lexie to turn a kidnapping into a luxury weekend getaway.

“Now head up this street and turn left,” she orders.

“You heard the woman,” I say to Haden.

Chapter forty-nine

HADEN

We decide to ditch the Tesla in a parking garage several blocks from the hotel and head out onto what Lexie calls the strip. At first, I am worried that we will be easily spotted out in the open, but this street is so cram packed with people, it’s a struggle just to stay together as a group. A cluster of people, dressed in red pointy hats with white balls on the ends, sing as they walk in front of us, but they don’t sound nearly as good as Daphne. The hotels are lit up like beacons, and large evergreen trees strung with lights are everywhere. I don’t know how much of this is normal Vegas fare and how much of it is for of the humans’ upcoming Christmas celebration. People bump into me as we walk, making me feel off balance, and a strange smoke chokes my lungs. I see that it’s coming from a group of men who line the road, smoking what I recall are cigarettes. One of the men sees me looking at him and he shoves a flyer into my hand. “Good times, good times,” he mumbles as I pass.