Her expression had darkened. “I didn’t miss the guys in suits snooping around the side of the building.” Her eyes lifted to the rearview mirror, and she sighed. “Or the black car that just peeled out of the building’s lot and is now following us.”
“Damn it,” said Marcus. “They found out I came to town. I thought that place was secure.”
I turned in my seat, craning my neck to see what Sydney had. Sure enough, a black Escalade was doing some pretty aggressive maneuvering to get into our lane. Sydney made an abrupt turn that caused me to grip the door, and the Escalade followed suit. The precious, fragile sense of freedom I’d allowed myself to enjoy since leaving Court dissipated like smoke on the wind.
“Sorry, you guys,” said Marcus. “They must have spotted me when I came in this morning.”
Sydney made another surprise turn, one that the Escalade got honked at for copying. Her face was filled with tension, and I knew she had to be working hard to remain as calm as she looked. This was the nightmare she’d lived with for so long: the Alchemists finding her again. “Don’t feel so bad,” she told Marcus. “After everything that’s gone down in Palm Springs, they probably keep eyes and ears here regularly. For all we know, you weren’t even spotted. Someone could’ve seen Eddie and decided to do some snooping. He’s a person of interest to them too.” She shook her head. “The real issue is how to lose them.”
“Get back on the highway and take the first downtown exit,” Marcus said.
Going back into a congested area makes no sense, hissed Aunt Tatiana. They’ll take Sydney again!
“Shouldn’t we get on the open highway and try to outrun them?” I asked.
“We’d never be able to do it,” he said. “Besides, they’d probably get backup, and we’d find a few more of those coming after us.”
Sydney exited as directed, pointing us toward the city center. Ahead of us, I could see some of the most crowded corridors of downtown, narrow streets packed with cars while pedestrians and outdoor tables filled the sidewalks.
“I’m guessing you’re playing on the fact that the Alchemists don’t like to make a scene,” Sydney remarked. “But remember, they did chase us—quite openly—down the Strip in Las Vegas.” She’d been in a wedding dress at the time, making us stand out that much more. “They’ll do what they’ve got to do.”
Marcus nodded. “I know. But they’ll still avoid too much of a show if they can. Really, my main goal is getting to my escape car.”
“Your escape car?” I stared, dumbfounded. “You have an escape car?”
He flashed me a smile. “I’m Marcus Finch. Of course I have an escape car. It’s accessed by an underground tunnel that comes out of Miguel’s Taqueria.”
“Underground—” Sydney shook her head. “Never mind. That’s six blocks from here, and we’re about to get stuck because of lights and slow cars.” The cars in front of us came to a stop as the traffic signal turned red.
“Correction,” said Marcus, suddenly unbuckling his seat belt. “They’re about to get stuck because of lights and a stopped car. Everyone get out.” Immediately, I realized what was about to happen, and he confirmed it when he put his hand on the door’s handle. “You guys know how to be evasive. Meet me at Miguel’s—but don’t let them follow you there.”
He was out of the car in a flash, and a couple of seconds later, so were we, once Sydney had shifted the car into park. He tore off down one side of the street, losing himself in the crowds of tourists and lunchgoers without looking back. Some might have considered it abandonment, but Marcus knew us well enough by now to trust we knew what to do in situations like this. Be unpredictable. Hide among crowds and businesses. Meet back up when we’d lost them.
That was assuming, of course, that they even followed us. There’d been two cars between them and us on the road, so there was a chance they might not have seen us ditch our car. When the light turned green and traffic didn’t move, they would figure out that something had gone wrong. The question was how far Sydney and I could get before then and whether they’d follow Marcus or us.
They followed us, of course.
“Faster,” I said, clutching her hand as we tore off down the sidewalk.
A series of honks let me know when the light turned green, as angry drivers found themselves unable to get around our abandoned car. Shouts behind us were a tip-off that something else was awry, and when I glanced back, I saw a man and woman in beige suits barreling down the sidewalk toward us, oblivious to the pedestrians in their way. So much for not making a scene.
Ahead of us, the sidewalk looked even more packed than usual as people clustered around something. Great. Not the slowdown we needed. Another quick look behind me showed the Alchemist man—who was nearly as tall as me—gaining ground. I approached the crowd and saw they had stopped to admire displays of clothing that a shop had set out on the sidewalk as part of some sort of promotion. Dresses, gauzy scarves, and more created a brightly colored display that made even the most indifferent passerby stop and admire it. Sydney and I squeezed our way into a group of women admiring a purple silk dress and saw the Alchemists mere feet behind me.
Sydney glanced around, and a smile unexpectedly crossed her lips. She spoke a magical incantation that was lost in the noise of the street, but the power it invoked had an immediate effect. All of that beautiful clothing around us exploded into rainbow-colored wisps of fabric. It rained down around us, making it nearly impossible to see. Chaos ensued as people cried out in wonder, unsure if it was an attack or some sort of publicity stunt.