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heard backstage swelled to a sea of voices, clinking glasses, and couples laughing, accompanied by a creaky piano player. The room was washed in cool green and blue light. It was filled with little circular tables, attended by waitresses bearing exotic drinks of every colour in every shape of glass. Lights in the floor resembled lily pads, and the ceiling seemed to have stars embedded in it. I was transfixed by the mood of the place; it was like nothing I’d ever seen. My reverie was broken by a voice that sounded like a cough. “Mademoiselle, while we’re young, if you don’t mind.”
    I followed the voice to a group of dimly lit tables set above and back from the main part of the club. I couldn’t see the face behind the voice, but I heard the snide laughter that followed as I tried to steady my legs and start the climb to the balcony. My hair fell in my eyes, but I hung on to my tray and remembered Sashay’s advice.
    A single candle lit each table on the balcony, which was more like an alcove that overlooked the club. A group of five black coats and hats that I supposed had men in them were clustered around two of the three tables. The first thing that hit me through the dense cloud of smoke was the slightly swampy odour that hung in the air. That and the mirrored sunglasses. Two were wearing theirs; there were two pairs on the table, and the fifth had his hat pulled low enough to hide his features completely. “You want us to die of too much fresh air?” hissed the tallest of the group as the others laughed ugly, wheezing laughs. “What took you?”
    Before I could answer, he grabbed a pack and some Moulin D’Or matches and tossed down a bill, waving me off like a mosquito. As I was about to make my escape, a bony hand grabbed my wrist. “Playing favourites, kid?” he almost whispered, then glancing at the selection, made his choice and looked me in the eyes. He had long, wispy silver hair beneath his hat and strangely smooth, bluish skin. A thin white scar snaked from his ear to the corner of his mouth. Minus the glasses, his eyes looked like what you see in the fireplace just before the fire goes out. I felt like my blood was slowing down in my veins from the cold chill that washed over me. “Where’s Michelle?”
    â€œUh,” I started to reply, but my tongue wouldn’t move.
    However, they soon lost interest in me, and I left as quickly as I could to gather myself. I was back and forth between the balcony and the friendlier patrons on the lower levels all night until the music stopped and the stage lights dimmed for Sashay’s performance. I had turned toward the stage, excited to watch my new friend, when I heard a rasping voice from the balcony and saw a hand beckoning me back into the darkness. By now I was getting used to their cheesy comments and overall rudeness, but I was still on my guard as I made my way up the stairs. Suddenly I was pushed aside as a new group emerged onto the balcony from a doorway that I hadn’t seen before. Two more cookie-cutter trench coats and fedora hats brushed past on either side of a small, slender man with slicked-back hair in a perfectly tailored suit and silver cowboy boots. The others greeted him like a celebrity, and I was completely ignored as I stood off to one side of their gathering. The little man eased around the tables shaking hands and saying, “Yesss, ouiii.”
    He stopped and addressed the group. “Kudos to the Shadows on Les Invalides. Dirty work and a clean job.”
    They laughed their sooty laughs as a tall, thin one held out a chair for him. “Congratulations to you, Louche. Your plan worked to perfection, and the cross is safely at Shadowcorps. The black paint was a stroke, ha-ha, of brilliance.”
    My body felt like it was frozen. I pulled Sashay’s scarf closer to my neck and had trouble focusing on anything else that was said.
    â€œYou part of the décor