Page 21 of House of Clowns

But instead of a response, she bridged the distance, her lips crashing against mine, sucking the air from my lungs and filling me to bursting with a thick, woozy warmth. I yanked her closer, my hand moving down the small of her back, pressing her intome, deepening the kiss until I was lost in her, drunk with every taste, every touch.

Then, a loud crack cut the moment.

We parted in alarm, her eyes darting over my shoulder. In the reflection stood Rocco, arms folded across his chest, eyes fixed on us with an edge of amusement. He reached back and slapped his hand on the back of my neck, yanking me backward into his chest. "Kiss her later, Romeo. You've got a job to do."

I cast a look over my shoulder and bit back a groan.

"Fine."

I turned away and walked, but my gaze fell upon her, still standing, frozen, fingers pressed against her mouth, a smudge of lipstick trailing off from where we'd collided. Her eyes—through reflection—held mine, and in that fraction of a second, it was as if she was holding me there, suspended in that heartbeat that we'd just shared.

FOURTEEN

JOKER

Iwasn't into performances. I'd always been behind the scenes, doing my job and not needing the limelight, but when Rocco dangled a few extra euros in front of me, I saw it as a sign. With that money, I could finally get something for Chiara—something real, not just some rose pilfered out of some vendor's cart.

As I stepped into the circus tent, a wave of laughter and hushed whispers rose from the crowd. People came to brush shoulders with danger, to teeter at the edge of the bizarre, but none of these people wanted to be the clown. Just to get close enough to look.

Who would willingly want this life?But my answer, as twisted as it felt, wasme. Not because I want to, but sometimes, when the world sees you as a freak, that is all there is to be. At least clowns have the cover of a painted face, a mask to hide the chaos beneath.

The multitude saw the face—thought they knew it all from one look. But clowns, real ones, keep secrets darker than anybody would have thought possible. We're human, too. We can break and hide, and get shattered like anyone else.

Already inside the tent, Hypno waited in the wings, casually leaning with an air of dark mystery that became his signature. A wild green wig poked out from under a crooked purple top hat, the kind of look that just seemed meant for nightmares. He'd made Ruby cover his face in thick white makeup, his brows erased to make room for thin green lines above his eyes, and he wore purple contacts that masked any true expression.

His teeth, crooked and yellowed, peeked out between a greasy sheen on his lips, and each cheek wore a twisted spiral in black and white paint as a jigsaw cutout came to life.

Everything about Hypno was a mystery I'd never been interested in trying to explain. He carried with him a flute, saying something about how music hypnotized people, rhythm opening doors to the mind. I'd always thought he was talking hot air, but I was about to find out for myself tonight. Ruby pulled back the curtain for me and ushered me into the tableau they created.

She was dressed like Chiara, but in black, some dark mirror of her elegance. Maybe she wanted to play the part of the clever spade—sharp, quick, and evasive—but with Hypno, it was hard to see her as unlucky. Yet she burrowed close to his side, loyal, as she tied herself willingly to his chaotic star.

"Hey, Rio," Ruby's voice was barely above a whisper, her gaze flicking from me to Hypno. She moved to sit beside him; her eyes were black as coal, brimming with curiosity. "I heard you're in the next act."

"He is," Hypno said, his grin twisting as he smothered a giggle behind his hand. "Our dear Rio will be riding a tiger."

"Yeah, right," I muttered, eyeing him suspiciously. "So what do I have to do?"

"Nothing." He smiled. "Just relax and make your mind… run wild."

I raised an eyebrow. "Rocco said it needs to be blank."

"Rocco said, she said—" Hypno waved a hand dismissively as he drew near, his purple eyes glinting. "Who cares?"

"I do." I stepped in, my voice low. "You mess with me,psycho, and I'm gonna make sure you get what's coming."

Hypno chuckled, retreating with his hands raised in mock surrender. "Alright, alright,big guy."

"You two are up," Ruby said, yanking open the curtain.

I gestured for Hypno to lead the way, and his purple suit cut a bright swath through the gloom as we stepped down onto the sand-covered floor. The lights flared, beams of white-hot brightness striking my face, momentarily blinding me. We were standing at the heart of the circus, a ring surrounded by row upon row of eager faces—faces that loomed, laughing, staring, voices blending into a chaotic hum.

Hypno laid a heavy hand on my shoulder, digging his fingers in as he urged me down to sit. Then he raised his arms to the crowd.

"Welcome toCirco del Destino!" he roared, and the crowd erupted into applause. He bowed floridly, gesturing to two other performers who led in a pair of tigers on heavy chains. The huge cats padded closer, their growls humming in the air.

"Tonight," Hypno continued, his tone bending into an evil singsong, "we'll make this clown…" he stopped, letting the audience laughter wash over him, "into a JOKER."

He circled me slowly and approached the tigers, his hand brushing against one's coarse fur as he passed. "I will hypnotize him to believe he is born in the wild, raised amongst these great beasts, so that he can approach them…ride them, even!"

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