by Allie Therin
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.”
Jade raised an eyebrow. “So you can’t get in.”
“Exactly,” said Zhang.
“Can’t get in where?” asked Arthur. “Is Zhang here?”
“I’m scouting ahead, but I’ll follow Arthur best I can,” Zhang said. “We have to assume a seller of a paranormal artifact is going to have some safeguards in place against magic.”
Rory glanced at Arthur. “You’re gonna be careful, right?”
“You’re supposed to speak only in pantomime,” Arthur said, but his eyes had softened. “I’ll see you all shortly.”
Rory watched with a pang in his chest as Arthur walked toward an open pavilion with columns and a black-and-white marble floor. Away from their group, straight backed as a soldier.
“I’m on him,” Zhang promised, and Rory gave him a grateful smile as his projection flickered out.
“No smiling, Pierrot,” Gwen called over to him, making Rory scowl.
The tourists were packed in tight as they navigated the exposition’s pavilion-lined walkways, statues on pillars and a giant white clock tower stretching up higher than some of the roofs. The different structures all had signs for their countries, as diverse in style as the world was, and several pavilions had lines out the doors.
Their group of four drew curious looks as they wove through the crowds, but no one stopped them or asked about their business. They stepped off the main walkway toward a makeshift fairground built around a red-and-white-striped tent, with a small carousel full of excited children and a man selling crêpes from a kiosk.
“This way,” Jade said, pointing at the large, glass-domed building that rose up over the fairground and exhibits.
They found a path to the back door on the other side of the circus tent. There was a man guarding it. He eyed them speculatively.
Jade stepped to the front, conversing with the guard in quiet French. She gestured pointedly to Rory, and the guard finally smiled. He stepped to the side, graciously opening the door to let them pass.
As they walked in, Gwen murmured, “He wasn’t sure we were performers, until Jade said why would we have Pierrot with us if we weren’t?”
“We told you it was a good idea,” Ellis added. “And Pierrot doesn’t roll his eyes, knock it off.”
Rory had expected the building to be quiet, but instead it nearly vibrated with voices. “There are several halls and auditoriums in here,” Jade explained in a whisper, as they made their way down a marble-floored hallway. “The biggest gallery is exhibiting hot air balloons and airplanes; it’s quite the draw.”
Airplanes. Wow. Maybe if this all worked out, they could come back and see those.
They came to the greenroom, its door open as performers streamed in and out. Rory peeked in and saw at least a dozen people in various stages of undress with no care for the gender of those around them.
He made a tiny squeak.
“It’s theatre, Rory, do close your mouth.” Gwen’s pupils were so large her hazel eyes were nearly black as she scanned the greenroom. “There’s no magic in here.”
“You really think you’ll be able to see the siphon?” Rory whispered.
“You’re not the only one with a relic.” Her pupils shrank back to a normal size. “You can read the history of a landmark; I can scan a large area for magic. Now shush. Pantomime only.”
Jade frowned. “Let’s keep going.”
They left the greenroom and snuck farther into the building, stopping at the end of the hall to watch the entrance room. There were several ushers standing near the ticket counter, in black suits with white gloves. Overhead, model airplanes were displayed in midflight, and a large art piece was stationed next to the counter, made up of at least two dozen replica hot air balloons.
“Coat check is behind them.” Gwen made a thoughtful face. “What are the chances our telekinetic and our invisible man can cause a distraction?”
Ellis looked at the sculpture while Jade considered the hanging airplanes overhead. “I’m sure we can think of something,” she said, starting to smile.
* * *
Arthur had, in fact, once been to this very auditorium, on a date to an opera. The other man had also been a wealthy American expatriate, stuck-up, condescending, and argumentative, and with the memory came a fresh wave of appreciation for Rory.
There was a twinge in Arthur’s heart, a brief searing pain almost immediately chased away by the sensation of electricity.
He involuntarily touched his chest, swallowing.
Grateful for many reasons these days.
A Frenchman in a black suit with white gloves showed Arthur upstairs to the private boxes. The usher stopped in the hall in front of a closed velvet curtain, then pulled it back and held it open just wide enough for Arthur to go in.
Arthur gave the usher a polite smile, stood up even straighter, and stepped past the curtain.
The private box was a balcony, empty save for two oversize velvet seats facing the stage a story below. The stage lights were bright and the balcony contrastingly dark enough that Arthur’s eyes took a moment to adjust.
But dark or no, there was no mistaking the bodies in the balcony. Three of them: two broad-shouldered white men, as big as Arthur himself, standing behind the farther velvet seat. And in that seat, a slender white man of about forty, hair hidden beneath a top hat and his features sharp in profile, a small pointed nose and chin. The other man also wore a tuxedo and didn’t look Arthur’s way, just watched the stage with his lip curled in distaste.
Arthur stepped in and took the other seat. On stage, a woman in a bedazzled dress was letting herself be handcuffed to a giant wheel while a man in a top hat juggled knives.
The seller’s gaze flicked to him—and then he stiffened. “Lieutenant Kenzie.”
Arthur stilled. “I don’t remember ever telling you I was in the service.”
“You didn’t tell me you were a liar either.”
“What are you talking about?” Arthur said sharply. “I am Arthur Kenzie. I have the funds to meet your asking price for the siphon. If you think to accuse me of lying—”
“Whose magic is in you?”
* * *
Rory followed Jade and Gwen as they hurried across the chaos of the entrance hall. Ellis was tossing replica hot air balloons around like baseballs while the model airplanes were zipping around as if they were flying.
“The kids are loving this,” Rory said, unable to stop a smile as the usher’s shouts in French mixed with the delighted laughs of the children.
“And the magic show can take the credit for the act,” Jade said, grinning. “I don’t often get to let loose like this. I doubt Ellis does either.”
A moment later, they were across the room and into another hallway lined with doors. The one at the far end was bright blue, like it’d been newly painted.
“That door is definitely covered in lead paint. If there’s magic on the other side of the door, I can’t see it,” Gwen said quietly, and turned to Rory. “Can you scry this hallway?
See who’s been by in the last hour?”
Rory stepped forward and put his hands on the unpainted wood wall next to the door. He closed his eyes, and reached for the hallway’s past.
The little girl is maybe four, tangly curls at her shoulders and a marking pen in her hand. She’s gleefully drawing all over the door. There’s a shout in French, and then a mother is hurrying down the hall, taking the little girl’s hand and pulling her away—
The painter comes the next day, whistling as he paints bright blue over the marker—
The hallway stands empty all day. Ushers peek in, but no one comes to the bright blue door—
Rory came out of the past with a muttered curse. “There’s nothing.”
“Are you certain?” said Gwen.
He nodded. “Door wasn’t painted by paranormals. And it’s May and it’s sunny, no one’s wearing coats or carrying umbrellas. No one’s been back here today but us.”
“Damn.” Gwen suddenly turned on her heel and headed out into the entrance hall.
Rory scrambled after her. The hall was in disarray, model airplanes and replica hot air balloons on the ground and ushers scrambling to pick up tickets and corral curious onlookers.
“Where are you going?” Rory demanded. Zhang’s projection was flickering at her side, like he was darting between two places. “Arthur’s in there—”
“—and we can’t afford to waste the distraction that he’s creating.”
Jade suddenly stopped just before the building’s door and turned toward the air. “Jianwei,” she said softly. “Can you check the ticket booths, see if there’s anything useful?”
“Maybe. Let me see.” A few moments went by. Then Zhang’s projection appeared, flickering again. “The tickets for the balcony the seller is in were delivered to a hotel in the sixteenth arrondissement.”
He recited an address that could have been on the moon for all Rory knew, but Jade and Gwen seemed to recognize it.
Ellis walked up just as Zhang suddenly disappeared. “Where’s Mr. Zhang going?”
“I don’t know.” Jade’s eyes were concerned. “I—”
Zhang suddenly appeared again. “The seller knows Arthur has magic in him,” he said urgently. “He needs backup.”
Rory’s eyes widened. “Ace—”
“I’m going.” Jade turned and took off, her high-heeled boots clicking on the marble as she somehow managed a near-run without falling.
Rory started after her, but Gwen’s gloved hand wrapped around Rory’s arm. “Wait, Rory. We need to look for the siphon at the seller’s hotel.”
“But Ace—”
“Ace was a soldier, he’s very capable. And he’ll have Jade with him,” said Gwen. “Jade will take care of him.”
Rory clenched his fists. “It’s my magic in him—”
“I know,” Gwen said, more softy. “But we must find this siphon, Rory. It must be now. Trust Arthur and Jade.”
Rory swallowed hard. As Gwen stepped to the curb in her pretty dress, he looked at Zhang’s flickering projection in concern. “I should go to Ace,” he whispered, as Gwen waved her hand and a taxi swerved instantly to the curb. “He might need me.”
“He might, but we all need that siphon.” Zhang looked as torn as Rory felt. “I’ll follow you best I can,” he said quietly, as Gwen and Ellis climbed into the back seat. “But you have to go with them. Because can we trust Gwen and Ellis not to make off with that siphon if they do find it?”
Rory winced.
Gwen leaned out the door. “Rory, come on!”
Rory cursed and scrambled into the taxi after them.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Whose magic is in you?
Arthur couldn’t move, his lips useless. Think of something, his mind screamed at him. Anything—
“You’re not a paranormal,” the man hissed. The stage lights lit half of the man’s face—pale skin, pale eyes, the pointed nose and an angry set to his thin lips. His gaze was darting all over Arthur. “But you have magic in you. How is such a thing possible?”
Arthur’s brain raced. Down on the stage below, the man in the tuxedo was aiming the knives at the woman on the wheel. He threw one, and it whooshed through the air and landed in the wheel with a thunk. The audience gasped.
Arthur kept his face as emotionless as he could. “I didn’t come here to tell you my secrets. I came here to make a deal.”
The seller’s lip curled. “Don’t pretend you’re here to deal when you’re nothing more than a snake.”
The man on the stage threw another knife. Another round of whoosh-thunk-gasp filled the air.
“You actually believed you, mundane as a rock, could hide magic from me.” The seller leaned into Arthur’s space. “Whose is it, I demand to know—”
The velvet curtain suddenly moved. “It’s mine.”
Jade. Arthur forced any surprise or relief off his face, muscles tensing as both of the seller’s henchmen stepped forward.
But the seller held up a hand to his men. “Wait.”
His gaze flicked over Jade, from her tiny top hat and tuxedo to her boots. Beautiful and composed, and only someone who knew her as well as Arthur would catch the more rapid than usual rise and fall of her shoulders, the breaths of someone who’d sprinted to the rescue.
Arthur held his breath. How had he known Arthur had magic in his aura? Was the seller a paranormal?
If the seller somehow had aura-sight, like Gwen, he would know what kind of magic was in Arthur’s aura and would never believe it was Jade’s.
Arthur tensed, ready to fight.
But after an endless moment, the seller sat back in the chair. “Very well,” he said, with some semblance of politeness. “Come in.”
Jade came all the way into the box, the curtain falling into place behind her. Arthur hurriedly got to his feet, offering her the seat he just vacated.
There was still a suspicious set to the seller’s mouth as he eyed Jade. “I’ve made Lieutenant Kenzie’s acquaintance. And who are you?”
“Shelley Laurent.” Jade gracefully took Arthur’s seat. She glanced casually down at the show below, then back to the seller. “Arthur here plays my cover. It’s my magic in his aura—please forgive us the deception.”
“And what is your magic?” the seller asked.
Arthur studied the seller from under his own top hat. Not aura-sight, then, if he couldn’t see what Jade’s magic was.
“Dream-reading.” Jade said it so easily Arthur would have believed her. “What’s yours?”
The seller’s expression turned uglier, unsettling and cruel. “It doesn’t work right anymore.” His gaze cut to Arthur, and for a moment, there was something so disturbingly predatory about his expression that Arthur’s skin broke out in chills. “I don’t like talking about it.”
Christ. The sooner they got this over with, the better.
The seller looked back at Jade with an air of being done with Arthur completely. “I much prefer to deal with paranormals directly. You’ll forgive my anger, won’t you? One can never be too careful.”
No, one can’t, and certainly not if you’re selling stolen artifacts. Arthur leaned back against the wall of the private box. Standing, he was now eye level with the two henchmen, and they were making no secret that they were watching him and Jade closely.
Jade crossed her legs, and if the seller found her man’s tuxedo odd, he didn’t remark on it. “Did you bring the siphon with you?” She gestured around the empty box. “There’s nothing in here but us.”
Something in the balcony’s atmosphere shifted, a new tension filling the air. Anger flashed in the seller’s eyes, but not at Jade, or at Arthur. “My plans were changed,” the seller said, lip curling again.
“I see.” Jade sat back in the seat, eyes on the seller. “Changed by what?”
“Not what,” said the seller. “Who.”
* * *
The taxi pulled up in front of a hotel as ritzy as the best hotels in New York, with at least four doormen and bellhops holding doors and getting bags for exquisitely dressed women and well-suited men.
And Rory was still dressed like a sad clown.
“Oh boy,” he muttered.
“Just keep your mouth shut,” Ellis ordered, as one of the doormen came forward and opened their taxi door.
In the hotel lobby, Rory refused to meet anyone’s eyes, keeping his on Gwen and Ellis as he followed them past blocky, artsy-looking couches and sculptures beneath a gilded ceiling. Gwen led the way across the marble floor straight to the elevator bank. Her pupils dilated as she glanced at all four elevators, looking up past their doors to the mechanical sounds whirring through the floors above.
A moment later, she walked decisively into the farthest elevator, which Rory was grateful to see was modern enough not to have an operator. She scanned the button panel.
“There.” She pointed to the top one. “That’s the magic I’m seeing. It’s had a trap rigged so that pushing the button will freeze the elevator.”
Rory winced.
She pushed the button just below the top. “We’ll get off one level down and find another way up.”
They got off on the ninth floor, into a long hall with red-and-gold carpet. Like the lobby, the ceiling was gilded, and intricate crown molding lined the length of the hall.
They walked past endless doors, making two turns before they found a much plainer hallway leading off the main one. At the end of that hall was a single, much larger elevator, big enough for a housekeeping cart, and next to that was a plain door.
“Staff staircase,” said Ellis. “Let’s go.”
One flight up the stairs was a tiny landing and another door that led to an even fancier hallway. Rory peeked around the corner. This time, he could see only one door, directly across from an elevator.
They approached on quiet feet, and just in front of the door, Gwen stopped. “More magic,” she said, examining the knob. “Ellis, darling, you can cut through this dead bolt.”
