“I’m wearing a cape. Stop whining.” Ellis leaned against the wall. He wore his own tuxedo well, looking the part of a magician’s assistant with a cape and white gloves. But he couldn’t keep up with Gwen, pretty as a movie star in a flouncy red dress and long black gloves, her curls pinned up and tucked under a feathered headband.

Rory, on the other hand, looked ridiculous. He was wearing all white, including wide-legged pants and a ruffled collar, with a black skullcap over his curls and his eyes with their kohl liner behind the glasses. “I look stupid,” he protested. “And I’ve never seen a clown wear glasses.”

“You look exactly as you’re supposed to look,” said Gwen. “Have a little faith in me.”

She said it distractedly, as she rooted through her beaded handbag, like she hadn’t thought about what she was saying.

Rory pursed his lips.

Did he have any faith in Gwen, or in Ellis?

Should he?

Pale evening light suddenly spilled into the club’s lobby, and Gwen looked up. Grief flashed over her face, so quickly Rory almost missed it.

He looked over to see Arthur walking into the lobby, black tuxedo and white tie, the afternoon sun haloing him compared to the darkness inside.

“Aw, damn,” Rory’s mouth said, without his permission, as he forgot everything but the sight of Arthur. “I could be with you a thousand years and never get used to how handsome you are.”

Arthur smiled at that, as Gwen looked at Ellis. “He is capable of being charming, I’ll give him that.”

Arthur was still smiling as he gestured at Rory’s Pierrot getup. “I like this.”

“You better not,” Rory warned him, which turned Arthur’s smile to a grin.

Jade hopped down off her stool onto high-heel boots and grabbed Zhang by the hand. “Come on. The show must go on, after all.”

Chapter Twenty-One

Rory’s irritation with his outfit had vanished by the time their taxi had inched its way through crowded streets to drop them off near a giant building with a glass-domed roof. The clown facade felt a lot more like protection now that they were here; he really wasn’t a great actor, and the others really had picked a costume for him that let him hide behind them and keep his mouth shut.

As they piled onto the sidewalk, Zhang’s astral projection materialized in front of them. His physical form was at a nearby cafe, where he’d be able to respond if there was an emergency. “The performance is in an auditorium that usually shows ballets, operas, and plays. There’s a back door into the building that leads to the performers’ greenroom. There’s also a special room off the coat check; door is locked and covered in a thick coat of lead-based paint. Fresh paint, two days old at most.”