rushed senselessly toward it, barreling across the pond. But the ice was melting, rapidly, catastrophically, sending their skates plunging through to the frigid water underneath. Vera's scream echoed through the blue night, her frozen look of agony all that Luce could see.
In the casino, Vera yanked her hand back, shaking it as if she'd been burned. Her lips quivered a few times before they formed the words: "It's you." She shook her head. "But it can't be."
"Vera," Luce whispered, reaching her hand out again to her sister. She wanted to hold her, to take all the pain Vera had ever been caused and transfer it to herself.
"No." Vera shook her head, backing away and wagging a nger at Luce. "No, no, no." She backed into the dealer at the table behind her, tripping over him and sending a giant stack of poker chips cascading o the table. The colored disks slid across the oor, causing a ripple of oohs and aahs from gamblers who leaped from their seats to scoop them up.
"Dammit, Vera!" a squat man bellowed over the din. As he waddled to their table in a cheap gray polyester suit and scu ed black shoes, Luce shared a worried glance with Miles and Shelby. Three underage kids wanted nothing to do with the pit boss. But he was still chewing Vera out, his lip curled up in disgust. "How many times--"
Vera had found her feet again but kept staring, terri ed, at Luce, as if Luce were the devil instead of her sister a lifetime removed. Vera's kohl- lined eyes were white with terror as she stammered, "She c-c-can't be here."
"Christ," the pit boss muttered, checking out Luce and her friends, then speaking into a walkie-talkie. "Get me security. Got a coupla hoodlum kids."
Luce shrank back between Miles and Shelby, who said through gritted teeth, "How about one of those step-throughs, Miles?"
Before Miles could reply, three men with enormous wrists and necks appeared and towered over them. The pit boss waved his hands. "Take them to the pen. See what other kind of trouble they've been in."
"I've got a better idea," a girl's voice growled from behind the wall of security guards.
All heads whipped around to nd the voice, but only Luce's face lit up. "Arriane!"
The tiny girl ashed Luce a grin as she sidled through the crowd. With ve-inch platform wedges, her hair done up all crazy, and her eyes nearly swallowed by dark eyeliner, Arriane t in with the casino's weird clientele perfectly. Nobody seemed to know quite what to make of her, least of all Shelby and Miles.
The pit boss veered over to confront Arriane. He reeked of shoe polish and cough medicine.
"Do you need to be taken to the pen, too, missy?"
"Ooh, sounds fun." Arriane's eyes widened. "Alas, I'm overbooked tonight. I've got front-row tickets to Blue Man Group, and of course there's dinner with Cher after the show. One more thing I know I had to do ..." She tapped her chin, then looked over at Luce. "Ah yes--get these three guys the hell out of here. 'Scuse us!" She blew a kiss at the fuming pit boss, shrugged an apology at Vera, and snapped her ngers.
Then all the lights went out.
Chapter Thirteen
SIX DAYS
Rushing them through the labyrinth of the dark casino, Arriane moved as if she had night vision.
"Stay cool, you three," she sang. "I'll have you out of here in a ash."
She held Luce's wrist in a tight grip, and Luce in turn held Miles's hand; Miles held Shelby's, as she cursed at the indignity of having to bring up the escape caboose.
Arriane led them unerringly, and though Luce couldn't see what she was doing, she could hear people grunt and exclaim as Arriane shouldered them aside. "Sorry 'bout that!" she'd call. "Whoops!" and "Excuse me!"
She took them down dark hallways packed with anxious tourists using their cell phones as ashlights. Up darker staircases, stu y with disuse and crammed with empty cardboard boxes. Finally she kicked open an emergency exit, ushering them through it and into a dark, narrow alley.
The alleyway was tucked between the Mirage and another towering hotel. A row of Dumpsters sent out the foul odor of expensive rotting food. A trickle of acid-green gutter water formed a vile little river, splitting the alley in half. Straight ahead, in the middle of the bright, bustling neon-lit Strip, an old-fashioned black street clock struck twelve.
"Ahhh." Arriane inhaled deeply. "The beginning of another glorious day in Sin City. I