The Ladies of the Secret Circus Page 16

  Lara was about to head over to him when she glanced up at the stairs that led to the second floor. Lara froze. Waiting for her on the landing at the top of the stairs was Todd Sutton.

  She blinked, making sure that she was seeing clearly, then closed her eyes firmly and opened them again. He was still there, a crooked smile on his face, like he knew what she was doing. The room spun and she planted herself, looking down at her feet before looking up at him again. Her heart began to pound, and then, like the morning realization that a restless night had been nothing but a bad dream, a sense of relief washed over her. She had been too afraid to hope he would ever come back. Whatever reason he had for not showing that day, she was sure it was a good one. He was here now.

  Like a popped cork, feelings that she had been too afraid to tap came flowing out of her—the despair at the loss of him, the anger, and finally the fear she couldn’t even admit to herself, yet she knew lurked underneath, that bitterness would eventually seep in until it gripped her fully. Lara had been so afraid of who she would become after the grief and the loss had permanently altered her and bitterness set in. Yet none of that mattered now.

  Gathering the full skirt of the navy dress up in her hands, the tulle like foam under her fingertips, she climbed the stairs toward him, slowly at first, savoring each moment of eye contact with him again. With every step, she realized how much of a lie it had been—that she’d moved on—that she was strong—that she could go on without him. She’d told everyone what they’d wanted to hear. There was a crackle in the air. The truth was, she’d longed for him—his body—his voice—the firm feel of his hand in hers. In those hands were two glasses of champagne. Before climbing the final two stairs, she was about to take off into a run when she spied it.

  The wedding ring on his finger.

  She stopped on the step and looked down, holding on to the rail for a moment. That ring was still in Audrey’s jewelry box where she’d placed it that day. That day.

  Gazing up at him, Lara realized after a moment that the tuxedo he was wearing was the one he would have worn to their wedding, the one that had been left on his bed. She placed her hand on her stomach and tried to compose herself.

  This was nothing but an illusion. A cruel manifestation of her own mind, like the chandeliers in the old circus tent or the turn of a lock. This is what she’d wanted to see. This was all she’d wanted to see.

  As he beamed down at her, she allowed herself to see this moment for what it was. Had he been at the church, this was the look he would have given her at the end of the aisle where he’d have stood waiting for her before they said their vows. She took the champagne glass from him. The stem was thin, and she could feel the chill on her forefinger as she held it. She slid her hand in his. It was warm, like a real one. She clung to it for a moment, pulling the illusion of him toward her.

  “You look beautiful.” It was that voice, deeper than you expected from him, that always surprised her. The timbre of it. She’d never erased his voicemails, saving them for the day she could bear to listen to them again.

  “Don’t leave me,” she whispered.

  The knowing smile he gave her was heartbreaking. “You’ll be fine, Lara.”

  “I don’t want to be fine.” Tears so easily began to run down her face, the grief hitting her in waves.

  As she blinked, her tears seemed to fade him, like a watercolor in rain.

  And he was gone.

  Wiping her face, Lara felt something stir, a breeze, giving her goose bumps. Despite the fact that she was at the top of the stairs in a crowded room, everything and everyone in the room fell away. Standing in front of her on the other side of the staircase, wearing a black tuxedo and gold mask, was the man with brown ringlets who had stood in her field all those years ago. Even with his mask, he was unmistakable, dashing. Like a wicked fairy-tale villain from childhood, he flashed the same devilish smile. With him was the woman with the parasol, only now she was wearing a gold dress that matched his mask. Margot—her grandmother.

  This entire scene was impossible and yet they stood before her, just as Todd had a minute ago.

  “You’re getting so much better with your illusions, my dear. I almost believed he was here with us.”

  “Aren’t you another one?” She didn’t have time for games. Lara wanted to run down the stairs and out the door like some princess in a Grimm fairy tale.

  “Hardly.” The man slid his arm around her as if he instinctively knew that she was unsteady. He whisked her down the stairs like a Victorian lady and into the foyer below. His arm felt real and people seemed to part for them, as if they saw him, too. “I assure you, I’m as real as you.”

  “What did I just do?”

  He led her through the double front doors and onto the street. “You created the illusion you wanted the most.” Everything about him looked normal—human. “But you need to be careful, my child. Sometimes illusion has the power to destroy us. Best to snuff it out like a single flame before it catches.”

  He pulled away and looked into her eyes, taking her in with his strange horizontal pupils. “You look lovely in that choker.”

  “It’s an heirloom.” She wanted to touch it, but he held on to her firmly, not allowing her shoulders to move.

  “I know,” he said. “I created it for my Juno, so many years ago.” He slid a finger across the necklace, causing a chill to travel up Lara’s spine. “It was my gift to her. Those are the finest pearls found in Styx.”

  “The river?”

  “Well, certainly not the band, my dear,” he said with amusement. From the vantage point of the City Hall entrance steps, he scanned Main Street like a cat in a window. “We are alike, you and me. There are some days the desire to glimpse Juno again—even the shell of her—is still so overpowering that I would risk everything to conjure her. And yet I know it would be only the manifestation of her. It would be hollow, like a waxwork.”

  Lara met his eyes. “Why are you here?”

  “Excellent question.” He started down the steps with surprising grace, like a Bob Fosse dancer, his shoes tapping against the concrete. Lara followed after him. At the bottom, he stood with his hands in his pockets, smelling the night air as an animal does. “I have a proposition for you, my dear. That fiancé of yours.”

  “Todd?”

  He looked bored at the specifics, like names. “You just conjured that tall drink of water up as your date for this evening’s soiree, so you must want to know what happened to him?”

  “You know what happened to him?” There was desperation in her voice. She heard it crack.

  “Of course I do.”

  “Well?” Lara rubbed her sweating palms on the dress. She wasn’t fifteen minutes into this gala and she’d seen three surprising guests. Why did she always feel faint when she saw Althacazur? Her breathing was growing shallow and she tried to remember everything she could from her research on him. If he was, in fact, the daemon Althacazur, then he was Lucifer’s favorite… ruled the greatest layer of Hell… was vain and often underestimated… had horizontal pupils. As she did the checklist in her head, she thought she should probably sit down before she passed out. Eyeing a bench near the bus stop, Lara steered him there. At the entrance to the gala, Lara watched Margot flirting with two young men. While she seemed to be enthralled with their conversation, she kept a watchful eye on Althacazur’s and Lara’s movements.

  He took a seat next to her, like it was something novel. “Is this what it’s like to wait for a bus? I’ve never done that before.”

  “You know what happened to Todd?” Lara felt the need to repeat herself now that they were seated.

  “Tsk. Tsk.” He wagged his finger at her. “I require something for that information. If you want to know what happened to Tom.”

  “Todd.”

  “Whatever.” He shrugged and kicked at a cigarette butt with his shoe.

  “What do you require?” She put her hand to her forehead, which was covered in sweat. They sa
t side by side like the spies in thriller films, speaking conspiratorially.

  “Oh, don’t look so frightened. I’m not asking for your soul, if that’s what you mean. At least not yet.” He chuckled. “I simply need for you to come to Paris. You are needed there.” He seemed uncomfortable. “I need you there.”

  “Why?” She looked over at him. “Is it because of the Devil’s Circus?”

  “An inaccurate nomenclature, I assure you.” He slouched down. “But yes. Le Cirque Secret requires you. In return, I’ll tell you everything you want to know—the fiancé, great-grandmother Cecile, all of it—if… and only if… you come to Paris. But it must be our little secret. Do you understand? That mother of yours cannot know.”

  “Why are strange things happening to me?” She hadn’t meant to blurt it out, but maybe he would give her some answers or at least admit which of the strange happenings he was behind.

  “If you do not come to Paris, it will keep getting weirder, my dear. The fabric of this quaint little community your family has built for you is beginning to tear apart. Without my help, I fear it could be the end for you all.”

  At his confirmation of the threat against her, Lara found she could not speak. She recalled what Shane Speer had said: She is coming for you.

  He smiled slyly as though he read her thoughts. “She is, indeed, coming for you, you know. And make no mistake, she is dangerous.” There was a tiny hint of pride in his voice.

  “Who is she?” Lara nearly shouted.

  “A very powerful creature.”

  “What on earth would a powerful creature want with me?” She was getting tired of him talking in circles.

  “Well, that’s a rather complicated tale. Let’s just say that you pose a threat to her.”

  “How on earth would I pose a threat to anyone?”

  “I fear it’s my fault.” He wasn’t looking at her; rather, he focused on each detail around them with a sense of wonder—the mailbox, the streetlamp, the Kerrigan Falls Express newspaper stand—as though he was witnessing such details for the first time.

  “Your fault?”

  “When you were little, Margot and I came to visit you in the field. Do you remember that?”

  “I do.”

  “Then you remember that I said you were the one?”

  “I still don’t know what you meant.” Lara folded her arms.

  “It meant that I’ve made you powerful. I’m sure you’ve noticed that your abilities are now increasing.”

  “You’ve done that?”

  “Well you certainly haven’t done it.” He laughed and sat up straight on the bench. “But as you grow more powerful, you become a threat to her.” Staring up at the stars, he cocked his head. “This little world really isn’t as awful as I recall.”

  Lara stumbled over what to say next. Suddenly, in the night air, she was cold, so she began rubbing her bare arms. This was all too much. These disappearances, veiled threats, and strange visions. “If I come to Paris, you promise to help me?”

  Facing her, he gave a slow and deep nod. “I will.”

  It felt like a contract forming between them.

  “Do I have an address to meet you? Do I call you when I land?”

  He nearly bent over with laughter. “How precious you are. I assure you, that won’t be necessary. You’ll hear from me.” He stood and bowed dramatically, like a Versailles courtier.

  “I don’t know your name.”

  He winked before he began to walk up the street toward the cemetery gates. “That, my dear, is the first lie you’ve ever told me. You know exactly who I am.” He turned back. “Oh, one more thing. Did you get my little present the other night at the Rivoli Circus?”

  “The journal?”

  “Hopefully it was an intriguing read.” His eyes widened dramatically, like a stage actor’s. “There will be more of them… call it a little scavenger hunt.”

  As he walked into the night, she noticed that his steps were now silent, as though his feet never touched the cobblestones. He first floated, then faded as if walking into a thick mist. Immediately Lara looked up to find that the two men who had been standing with Margot were now alone and quite perplexed.

  Lara felt a hand on her shoulder and turned to see Ben.

  “Is that Lara Barnes under that mask?” He leaned down and gave her a kiss on the cheek. Ben Archer was one of the rare men who could go from a uniform to a tuxedo with ease. His caramel-colored hair looked a little stiff with gel, the glaze of it glistening under the streetlamp.

  “Did you see that man?”

  “No,” said Ben, eyeing her suspiciously. “You were sitting here alone.” He looked up at the sign. “You catching a bus?”

  “I was alone?”

  “Yes.” He laughed, eyeing her peculiarly. “Are you okay? Why were you sitting out here alone?”

  “I’m fine. Just nerves going into a party, I guess,” she lied. “Why aren’t you wearing your mask?”

  “Marla just scolded me about that as well. I’m likely to fall with this damnable thing on. It’s terrible.” He held it out like a child. “Look at it; it’s sweaty like a kid’s Halloween mask and it’s giving me a headache.”

  Lara took the mask and tried to loosen the elastic before sliding it on his head. “There.”

  She followed him back through the front doors and stood there while he went to the bar. While the wait staff buzzed, she downed a mini chicken kebab and goat cheese puff that made her footing feel solid again. As she stood gazing out at the oblivious partygoers milling about and laughing, she had a strong urge to flee. She didn’t belong here with carefree people. Getting up the courage to look at the top of the stairs again, she found the space empty. It was like reopening a wound. This had been too soon.

  Lara saw Kim Landau make a beeline toward Ben. While Lara didn’t want to have another exchange with Kim on how she’d felt about Todd’s disappearance, Ben looked equally uncomfortable with their conversation and seemed to be itching to gather his drinks and go, but the bartender was taking his time. Whatever Kim was saying made Ben pull at the neck of his tuxedo. Finally, he snatched two glasses and quickly sidestepped her in mid-sentence. Kim watched him all the way across the room until her gaze landed on Lara. A chill went up Lara’s neck as the woman frowned, like Lara had won a round, then smirked, before turning and heading into a sea of partygoers.

  Lara was shaken by the reporter’s boldness, like there was some competition between them.

  “Here.” Ben handed her the second glass of champagne she’d held tonight, only this one wasn’t an illusion.

  Taking a sip, she pointed her glass at the bar. “I see Kim Landau cornered you.”

  “Unfortunately.” He clinked her glass.

  She took a long sip of her champagne and wondered how it was possible that she’d thought Todd was real tonight, had ached for him as though he’d never left, and yet she could still be curious about the nature of Kim and Ben’s relationship. Her thoughts were beginning to scramble. She no longer trusted them.

  Just then a doorbell sound rang through the room—the xylophone being played by the wait staff to let everyone know that dinner was about to be served.

  The sea of people began to move into the back courtyard for dinner. Overhead was a tent; this time, white fabric streams hung overhead. “This is stunning,” said Ben as they got their first look at the color and texture of the silk, flowers, and candles.

  Instead of traditional “rounds,” Marla Archer had set up the event with several long tables, like a Tuscan dinner. Green garland vines and chandeliers hung over each table. The chartreuse tablecloths featured bunches of hydrangeas in blue, green, and cream with cream roses. Other groupings were accented by tall gold candelabras or tall vases with gold cane chairs and chargers. With votives lighting every few inches, the event shimmered. In the last year, Marla had become the go-to photographer for Virginia wineries, so each course this year was paired with a local wine that had been donated for the c
ause.

  “She was nice to me today,” said Lara, recalling how Marla inserted herself so Lara could flee Kim Landau.

  “Not always nice to me, though.” He finished his champagne in a single gulp.

  Lara found their place cards: Audrey and Ben were seated across from each other with Lara to Ben’s right and Inez Favre, the wife of Rivoli Circus director Louie Favre, to his left. On the opposite side of the table, Audrey sat between Gaston and Louie.

  Watching Audrey and Gaston clearly flirt with each other was charming. Lara couldn’t figure out when this relationship had blossomed between them, but now, seeing them together, they were clearly a couple. During the salad course, Gaston leaned in frequently, whispering something to her mother, and Lara saw Audrey light up. She hadn’t seen this much joy on her mother’s face, ever. Lara had a pang of sadness for her father, who had always seemed to hold a soft spot for his ex-wife. Jason had taken the night shift at the station tonight. He’d avoided her all day after the song yesterday and she felt guilty. While Jason wasn’t much for events like this anyway, Lara wondered if he knew about Audrey and Gaston and had decided to stay away. Or was he just avoiding her? She recalled the way he looked at her last night, like he’d seen a ghost.

  And what if the man from the field was nothing but an apparition? What if she had manifested both him and Margot tonight, just as she’d done with Todd? While the man had assured her he was “as real as her,” it would be exactly the kind of thing a figment of your imagination would say to you. Recalling the look of horror on Cecile’s face when she’d first told her about the man’s visit, she wondered if her great-grandmother had just been afraid that Lara was going mad like Margot. Is this what her mother meant by warning her to hide her magic? Did using it cause madness? Hallucinations? She was deep in thought when she felt her mother kick her back to attention from under the table. Lara hadn’t realized it, but she’d been rubbing her neck and staring off into space.