“That,” he said, “was brilliant. How’d you know what would happen?”

“I didn’t,” I said. “Not for sure.” He set me down and took a seat on the couch. “But I felt pretty confident the Moroi management wouldn’t let them haul off one of their own without proof—which there’s no way they have. Marcus would’ve disabled the cameras in Death Valley. The Alchemists could only accuse you based on eyewitnesses, and I knew that wouldn’t stand up here. Alchemist officials would have to file formal complaints with the queen. Me . . . well, that’s a different story. They might have handed me over. The Moroi have no reason to protect me—hence the invisibility.”

Adrian sat beside me and kissed my cheek. “I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: You’re a genius, Sage. I keep finding new reasons to love you, and I didn’t think that was possible.”

“I’m no genius,” I said, slumping back into the seat. Tears formed in my eyes, and I hated it. I hated that the Alchemists had done this to me. I’d never been so emotional before! I was all about logic when problems came, not tears, yet right now, I just wanted to curl up in a ball and sob. The stress of re-education and now this attack was wearing on me. “I should’ve let us go with Marcus. I don’t know if we can outpace the Alchemists! You think I’m clever, but where do you think I learned it from? Do you see the scope of what they can do? They had agents waiting outside in towns neighboring Death Valley. Then they must’ve seen us get on that tour bus, found out where it was going, and met us at the Tropicana. The Alchemists there either got our cab’s license plate tracked here, or else there were already agents waiting, since this was a likely place to go.” I met Adrian’s gaze firmly. “How do we outrun that? How do we get away from a group that has eyes and ears everywhere? Who can protect us? We can’t use invisibility and compulsion for the rest of our lives! We can’t hide in this hotel forever!”

I knew I sounded hysterical, and Adrian’s calmness only drove that home. “I think I have an idea,” he said. “An idea that’ll get us some hardcore protection . . . but I don’t know how you’ll feel about it.”

“I’m open to anything,” I assured him.

He hesitated a moment and gave a decisive nod. Then, to my complete and utter astonishment, he got down on his knees before me and clasped my hands in his. “Sydney Katherine Sage,” he said, his green eyes full of love and earnestness. “Would you do a brooding, deadbeat Moroi the honor of being his wife?”

CHAPTER 20

ADRIAN

I EXPECTED A LOT OF different reactions to my proposal. Crying wasn’t one of them.

“Okay,” I said cautiously. “Probably this would’ve been better with a ring, right?”

She shook her head, furiously wiping tears from her eyes. “No, no . . . it was great. I mean, I just don’t know. I don’t know why I’m crying. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

I knew what was wrong. She’d been locked away for four months, most of which had been in the dark, subjected to psychological and physiological torture, and told everything she believed was wrong and twisted—that she was wrong and twisted. Add to that the stress of the escape—multiple escapes—we’d just gone through, and it was no wonder she was breaking down. Even the strongest person would have a hard time recovering. She needed a break, time to heal mentally and physically, and those goddamned Alchemists wouldn’t give it to her.

“Okay, go ahead,” she said, a few moments later. I could see her toughening up, working hard to put all those emotions away because she thought that’s what it meant to be strong. I wanted to tell her that strength wasn’t about hiding your feelings, that it was okay for her to feel this way after what she’d been through. “Explain to me how me being a nineteen-year-old bride will solve our problems.”

I stayed on my knees. “I know it wasn’t part of your plan,” I said. “Not yet, at least. I know, ideally, you’d be going to college right now, with marriage down the road.”

She nodded. “You’re right. And it’s not for lack of love for you, believe me. I can’t even imagine marrying anyone else. But we’re still so young. . . .”

“I know.” I squeezed her hands more tightly. “Here’s my thinking, though. It came to me when you said you knew the Moroi would protect me as one of their own. If we get married, if you’re my wife, then the Moroi will have to protect you too.”

Sydney’s earlier words had reminded me of something that Lissa had said, back when I’d asked her to help Sydney: If one of my own people were in danger from them, then yes, I’d have every right to throw my weight around with the Alchemists. I had no doubt I’d be safe if I went running back to Court. Lissa would protect me, even if I wasn’t a good friend. Sydney was right that she could expect no such guarantees, and even the hotel manager had insinuated as much. But if she was Mrs. Ivashkov . . .

Sydney’s brow furrowed. “You’re thinking like how a person gets citizenship when they marry someone from a different country. I don’t think it works that way with the Moroi and the humans. I don’t automatically become a Moroi by marrying you. Your people aren’t going to accept me as one of their own. Your people are going to freak out.”

“True,” I admitted. “But that doesn’t mean they’ll let my wife be punished. We go to Court, and we’re golden.” She didn’t answer right away, and that silence unnerved me. I began to worry and find other problems, ones that had nothing to do with my plan’s questionable logic. “But if you’re not sure about us . . .”

She focused back in on me. “Oh, Adrian, no. That’s not it at all. I mean, it’s like I said. I never expected to get married so young, but I can’t imagine spending my life with anyone but you. I figured it would happen someday. This is just kind of a shock. And think also about what our life would be like. If we’re getting sanctuary with the Moroi, does that mean we have to stay at Court forever? Will I ever get to see my family again?”

That caught me off guard. The biggest complications I’d foreseen would’ve been reactions from my family—and others, say, like Nina. There would be problems there, yes, but what Sydney and I faced now was too important. I was prepared to deal with whatever fallout my people might present, but I honestly hadn’t thought far enough to consider Sydney’s side of it. I didn’t have easy answers for that but responded confidently, as though I did: “It’ll be short-term. I mean, I don’t know how long ‘short-term’ is, but eventually, this’ll pass, and we’ll be free to go wherever we want and see whomever we want.”