“Come on,” she said, picking up the pace again.
As we ran away, I also heard an especially loud cry of dismay from someone I recognized—Lia DiStefano. This was her shop, which explained Sydney’s sly smile. I felt a little bad . . . but also kind of not. Lia had made a gorgeous dress for Sydney once, a red gown inspired by ancient Greek styles. Sydney had been so beautiful in it, I’d thought I was dreaming. I had to give Lia credit for that. On the other hand, Lia had been so desperate to have Jill model for her that she’d covertly published an ad with Jill—the one that Alicia had included in the box Jackie had brought to Sydney. I didn’t entirely know the relationship between Alicia, the Warriors, and how that ad had connected them to Jill, but there was no question that the ad had put Jill at risk.
“Sorry, Lia,” I muttered as I raced past her shop. “Next time, don’t recruit models you aren’t supposed to use.”
A block away was a florist’s shop I’d been in once before. Without checking to see if we’d been followed, we quickly darted in through its door, which was propped open to enjoy the afternoon heat. Immediately, the overwhelming fragrance of roses and lilies surrounded us. Bouquets of every color filled the shop, but I looked past all of that for what I’d remembered seeing the last time I was here: a back door. The shop had two entrances, one that faced the main thoroughfare out front and this second one that led to parking in the alley behind the businesses. I nodded and smiled at the surprised florist, then hurried Sydney through to the back door as though what we were doing was perfectly normal.
In the alley, I paused and dared a peek through the door’s window, waiting to see if an Alchemist came bursting into the shop. No one did, so I crossed my fingers that destroying Lia’s display had caused enough confusion to cover the rest of our journey. Sydney and I ran down the back alley, past the doors of more businesses, some of which were public and some weren’t. When we reached the back door for Miguel’s Taqueria, it read DELIVERIES ONLY. I knocked anyway, wondering how we would explain my presence to whoever answered.
The guy who opened the door, however, didn’t seem surprised at all to see us. He waved us inside. “You must be Marcus’s friends.”
We entered and found ourselves in the entryway to the kitchen, which smelled delicious. A cook flipping a quesadilla glanced up, nodded like our presence was totally normal, and returned to his work. Meanwhile, our guide led us to a nearby storage room lined with shelves of food. There was a bona fide trapdoor in the floor. He opened it up, and down below, holding a flashlight, was Marcus. He waved up at us.
“How do you know Marcus?” I asked as I started to climb the rungs down.
My guide shrugged. “He did me a favor once.”
That seemed to be the story of Marcus’s life. We thanked the guy and then made our way down. Just as Marcus had said, there really was a tunnel. We hurried through it with little conversation, emerging into a utility shed in a park a few blocks away. We saw no signs of pursuit in the tunnel or up above, and Marcus felt secure enough to lead us to a parked blue Chevy. He produced some keys from his pocket and unlocked the door.
It wasn’t until we were on the road that he finally spoke. “Well,” he said. “I’ve got good news and bad news. The good news is that you don’t have to keep making the Alchemists think you’re at Court. The bad news is, the Alchemists know you aren’t there anymore.”
Chapter 14
ONCE I KNEW WE WERE MOMENTARILY SAFE from the Alchemists, the first thing I had to do was secure Declan and my mom.
“Where are you?” I asked her when she answered the phone. I was sitting in the backseat while Marcus drove us to what he swore really was a safe house. Sydney was in the passenger seat, sending text updates to pretty much everyone we knew.
“I’m at Clarence’s,” replied my mother. “Where else would I be?”
I breathed a sigh of relief. “Good. You need to stay there for a while—do not leave. Do you have enough supplies for Declan?” I thought she’d gone overboard in her initial shopping. Now I was grateful.
“Well, yes, I suppose, though he doesn’t seem terribly fond of those pacifiers I bought. I might need to find a different—”
“Do not leave,” I repeated. “The house is almost certainly being watched. The Alchemists know we’re here.”
Immediately, my mother grasped the severity of the situation. “Are you all right?”
“We’re fine—we got away. But they’ll watch all our hangouts now to see if we go there. They’ll know we aren’t back at Clarence’s, and that’s fine. But they also probably don’t know you and Declan are there, and we need to keep it that way. Stay inside.”
She fell silent for several moments. “Adrian, there’s something . . . unusual about Declan, isn’t there?”
“Special,” I corrected. “He’s very, very special. And for now, it’s best if the Alchemists don’t know he exists. If they want to chase after Sydney and me, fine. But he needs to stay off their radar.”
“I understand,” she said. “If we need anything, I’ll either have it shipped here or send Rose and Dimitri for it, assuming they can leave?”
I hesitated. “Yes. The Alchemists have no interest in them. They might be curious about why they’re in town, but they won’t break into Clarence’s house or anything to find out, not without some other provocation. Other Moroi and dhampirs have stayed with him before. Can I talk to one of them?”