Waking Up in Vegas Read online

  "This is a dive. Even in a dive, when a gun goes off, management should want to know what the hell is going on. You told me it was you as soon as you left your goons alone to finish us off." I shook my head. "It's my fault. I shouldn't have believed I could get comfortable anywhere that wasn't owned by an ally. But damn, I wish you hadn't been an asshole."

  I turned and walked away. I'd tell Al about him; within the week, whatever connections he had would be cutting him off to protect themselves. Within a month, no place in Vegas with a connection to the cryptid community would be willing to work with him. It wasn't much. It was what I had, or at least, it was what I had that didn't involve breaking bones and possibly going to prison.

  Dominic was standing next to the U-Haul, having already stowed the mice safely in the back. "Where to?" he asked.

  "The bank," I said. "Let's get this over with."

  Al had finished Dominic's paperwork, even down to dual citizenship and an Italian passport, which was substantially more battered and well-traveled than its American counterpart. What's more, he was happy to watch the mice, especially after what I had told him about the Golden Oasis. I started to wonder whether my estimate of a month before that clerk's life was conclusively ruined might not have been a little overly generous.

  The mice were thrilled to have the run of the pawn shop for the day. I ducked into the employee bathroom to change. Maybe I was eloping, and maybe I was going to get my ass tanned by my father when he found out, but by God, I wasn't going to get married in jeans.

  There was a knock on the door as I was trying to figure out what to do with my hair. "Who is it?" I called.

  "Al," came the response. "You decent?"

  "I am," I said, turning away from the mirror. "I just didn't want Dominic to see me in my wedding dress."

  Al opened the bathroom door and stopped, blinking. "I won't make any more jokes about you being a kid, Very," he said, in a strangled tone. "You're all grown up now."

  "You like it?" I was wearing one of my competition gowns. This one had been designed for the Venetian waltz. It was all gauze and sequins and plunging neck and back, slit up to the hips to allow for ease of motion. I could have taken on an army in that dress, if there hadn't been any way for me to change my clothes first. It was one of the most concealing things I owned. The life of a ballroom dancer is an often chilly one.

  "Your mama would be so proud," he said, stepping fully into the room. He had a trench coat draped over one arm, which he offered to me. "I figured you wouldn't want him to see you. As for the rest, you need a few things."

  "Like what?"

  "Like something borrowed, and something blue." He dipped a hand into his pocket, coming up with a necklace of diamonds and blue topaz. He held it out to me. "Put it on. You look amazing, but this is Vegas. A few sequins isn't going to cut it."

  "Oh, Al, it's beautiful." I got the necklace fastened around my neck, checking its position in the mirror, before turning to beam at him. "Thank you so much."

  "That's not all." He handed me a small bag. I looked inside. Twenty-five thousand dollars looked back at me.

  "No." I closed the bag, shoving it at him. "I can't."

  "You can, and you will. That guy was bad news, Very, and you shut him down. So this is my wedding gift to you. Not a freebie, because I don't do freebies. But a suspiciously similar cash prize." Al smiled. "You're a beautiful bride, you did a good thing today, and now it's time for you to go show that fellow of yours what he got himself a new identity for. Go on. I'll watch the mice."

  "You're the best, Al."

  "Yeah, I am."

  He stayed where he was, still smiling, as I kissed his cheek and ran out of the room, toward my waiting future.