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Las Vegas
NIGHT HAD FALLEN by the time Crowley cruised the rental car slowly down South Las Vegas Boulevard, commonly known as the Strip.” He admired the sights which were strangely so familiar, even though he had never seen them in person before. American culture permeated the English-speaking world like water through canvas. It was impossible not to be exposed to it, particularly via movies and television. And given the nature of those mediums, there was little more visually enticing than the Strip. He had seen it a thousand times, from the 60s or 70s onwards. He’d enjoyed it from afar in dozens of films and now he found himself driving along it. The sensation was a little surreal.
They passed the pirate ship of Treasure Island, brightly lit and wrapped in ropes of white light. Everything was brightly lit, countless bulbs and LEDs and neon tubes. Crowley couldn’t imagine the amount of power this single street would suck out of the grid every hour. He drove by The Mirage’s famed volcano, wide, squat and brown, sitting in its lake of fire. It stood dormant at that moment, but ready to spring to life. Then Caesar’s Palace, with its faux-Roman architecture, impossibly tall columns topped with enormous triangular pediments. Up ahead and to the left, the Paris Casino, with its replica of the Eiffel Tower lit up in golden light, and a huge hot air balloon, vertically striped with bright blue neon, wrapped with crisscrossed gold bands.
“Look at that,” Rose said, her voice quiet with wonder. She was looking out of her side of the car, across the street at the dancing fountains of the Bellagio. Lit gold and white, they burst up and arced, crossed each other and made rising and falling waves with their incessant jets.
They passed the epic cross-shaped MGM Grand, its facade of green and glass standing out even among the other sparkling and dancing lights. Moving images along each side advertised a forthcoming David Copperfield show.
“Holy crap,” Crowley said, laughing under his breath. “Look at this one!”
New York New York dominated their view, a behemoth of a recreation of the city’s skyline, a pale blue lit Statue of Liberty standing high over them as they drove by. Liberty looked down on the tourists swarming the pavements, wide-eyed and grinning, snapping photos and losing dollars. Dozens of costumed characters paraded around, sequins and giant feathers, rainbows of color and acres of bare, tanned flesh. Numerous shysters and hucksters shilling for business. “Porn slappers,” agents who advertised prostitution, milled along the strip wearing brightly colored T-shirts emblazoned with logos and phone numbers.
GIRLS GIRLS GIRLS
GIRLS DIRECT TO YOU IN 20 MINUTES
PLEASURE CLINIC
“Where are the women advertising the male hookers?” Rose asked, half-amused, half-appalled at the brazen displays of decadence and debauchery.
“You make a good point,” Crowley agreed. “I just think women would naturally be more discreet about the whole thing. I don’t doubt there are plenty of male sex workers busy in this town.”
Rose smirked. “Every variation of gender for any kind of taste and persuasion, eh?”
“Undoubtedly.”
Shrill cries rang out from passengers in the bright yellow cars of the New York New York roller coaster high above. The loops and whorls of red track swept around over the roofs of the fake skyline, a swirling, complicated pattern.
They drove by the Excalibur, looking like a giant child’s play castle with its tall white crenelated turrets and bright red, blue and yellow colored roofs, then left the crush of the busiest part of the Strip. As they moved along, the spaces were wider, the crowds less dense, and up ahead they saw their destination. The massive black pyramid of the Luxor Casino.
Its glassy, jet surface danced with reflected light. A brilliant spotlight beamed up from the capstone, an enormous Sphinx lying out front surrounded by golden light and palm trees.
“Classy,” Rose said sardonically.
Crowley laughed. “Can’t argue with that, but, you know...” He gestured back over his shoulder at everything else they had seen so far.
“True,” Rose said. “I don’t think the word ‘ostentatious’ appears in any Las Vegas dictionaries.”
“Or garish, tasteless, crass.” He flashed her a grin. “The list is pretty long, I think.”
“I think so, too. Man, what a place. It’s so horrible, but just so incredible too. So enticing. And in the middle of the desert!”
“Insane.”
A street-side obelisk, with the word LUXOR in lights, loomed up ahead. Behind it, the massive sphinx guarded the entrance to the casino.
“This, though,” Crowley said, jabbing his chin towards the huge black pyramid. “After so recently seeing the real thing, it’s...” He searched for the word.
“Take your pick from the list we just made,” Rose said. “Or try tacky, kitschy, ugly. It’s just plain cheap and nasty, really.”
“Brummagem,” Crowley said with a grin and Rose laughed.
“Right.”
He pulled up beneath an overhang and a valet hurried to park the car for them. The man gave them a ticket which Crowley slipped into his wallet. They entered the casino and both paused, stunned by the immensity of the place, jammed with pseudo-Egyptian decor. The walls sloped up towards a point, obviously mirroring the external structure of the place, myriad glowing balconies looking down on them. There were entire buildings inside the place, an IMAX cinema, obelisks and giant carved pharaohs in stone thrones. Crowley grimaced, thinking it was no doubt all fiberglass and chipboard.
Inside, they headed to the concierge desk. At Crowley’s request, Cameron had worked some magic, and waiting for them was an envelope containing identification and credit cards for them both. Crowley’s identified him as James Crow. He mused on the fact that he hadn’t used that particular pseudonym for a long time. The identity seemed like a lifetime ago.
At the front desk, they learned they’d been given a single room with a queen-sized bed. No doubles were available. Rose raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything.
They headed up to their room, slightly perturbed about the motion of the elevator as it moved at a 45-degree angle, following the pyramid shape of the hotel. They entered the room and Rose stared for a moment at the one double bed.
“You heard the clerk,” Crowley said. “It’s all they had. Is it a problem?”
“Not for me,” Rose said. “But I was hoping there might be a fold-out sofa or something. You’re going to be uncomfortable on the floor.”
Crowley couldn’t prevent the wave of frustration, though he knew she owed him nothing. He simply couldn’t get past the fact that before they had been growing so close, and then she’d cut him off after the Landvik situation. Gone cold, utterly.
“I’ll be okay,” he said, determined not to be a dick about it. “I’ve slept in a lot worse places than a hotel room floor.”
Rose smiled, put a hand briefly to his cheek. “Thanks.”
“What happened between us?” he asked. As her face began to shape into outrage, he quickly said. “I don’t mean any presumption, I wouldn’t expect us to share a bed. But there’s a distance here that didn’t exist after we got back from Lindisfarne. In the hospital in Edinburgh with Cameron, things were... good, you know? I’m not expecting anything, really. I’m just confused about what happened after that. You’ve never explained why there’s suddenly this new remoteness between us.”
Rose opened her mouth, eyes narrowed, like she was about to finally reveal some deep truth. Then she let it go, her eyes widening again and she plastered on a smile. “We’re too tense. This is Vegas. Let’s dress up and go have some fun.”
Crowley frowned, shook his head slightly. He didn’t want to push her, but something was up and he needed to know what. Partly for his own peace of mind, even his own ego, but also because he was worried about Rose and what she was hiding from him. And why.
“I need a break,” Rose said. “We both do. For one night, let’s not think about Lily, Anubis, or anything else.” She smiled and it was genuine. She gave him a sly wink, tilted her head to one side.
Crowley refused to read anything more into that than exactly what she’d said. He knew his own needs and biases were likely to make him think too much of simple gestures, but he had to admit it sounded like a good idea. Blowing off some steam would do them both good. Though he was puzzled by her sudden change of demeanor. Was she keeping something from him to protect him? He could only nod.
Rose grinned and planted a kiss on his cheek.