The Courtship of Julian St. Albans (11 page)

“Promises, promises,” teased Alex,
basking in the warm glow of being admired by someone for purely — or at least
primarily — physical reasons.

CHAPTER
10

In Which We Are Reassured of Alex’s Recovery, and Go Shopping

Alex arrived at his own quiet flat after
reassuring Lapointe that he was fine. His head still hurt a little from all the
magic, and he felt ill-used and unsure of his own mind, the former sickeningly
familiar but the latter a wholly new discomfort.

“It’s times like these that I wish I had a
cat,” said Alex to the empty flat. He considered a cup of tea, but felt it
better to be more sure of himself before he began handling things and spreading
potential magical contagion about the place, so instead he went into his work
room and beyond, to the walk-in cupboard he’d converted into a magical clean
room of his own.

Once there, he removed everything one more
time, hanging the clothes on hooks and putting the other objects onto the
myriad small white shelves he’d put up, each thing in its own spot. He left his
wallet as is, but separated watch from chain from fob and put each on a shelf
by itself. Once he was satisfied with the arrangement, he plucked a sock from
one hook and let himself listen just to it, the room’s nature muffling
everything else while he concentrated.

He went through that process with each piece of
clothing, finding his jacket still held just a hint of that buzzing magic
around the cuffs and wondering if it would survive being purified. The silk
cravat, being magically neutral, was the only piece that was perfectly quiet,
not a whisper of a song anywhere in the soft fabric. Everything else held only
his own aura, the deeply familiar and comforting sound of his personal magic
singing quietly through the clothing he’d worn today and, in most cases, many
days before this.

Alex tossed each piece of clothing out the door
once it passed inspection, though on a whim he threw the cravat around his neck
and over one shoulder like a scarf before settling down to examine his shoes.

These were more complex because they were
charmed by the maker already, but Alex knew these spells intimately, having
worn them on his body for years now. The black leather held spells to shine
them, make them supple and breathable, to keep them from cracking or getting
scuffed, and to reinforce the heels and soles, though Alex could see he’d need
to get them re-soled soon. They had been a ridiculously indulgent purchase, but
Alex had always wanted a pair of handmade shoes, bespoke and bespelled, so when
he’d had the wherewithal he’d treated himself.

He was very pleased to find they’d survived
intact, and he set them outside the little room rather more carefully than the
rest.

Next he picked up his wallet, finding it
perfectly null as it was made to be, silk-lined leather that kept his personal
effects safe from scrying eyes and, apparently, malicious magic. That went into
a silk bag beside him, and was soon followed by the golden watch chain,
cufflinks and cravat pin, all of which were perfectly unmagical and thankfully
unaffected. His mobile was also fine, though turned off at the moment, and it
went into its own little silk pouch before slipping into the larger bag with
the rest — he’d want to test it again once it was turned on, but it wouldn’t
function properly in the insulated cupboard.

All the other perfectly ordinary bits and bobs
were fine as well, with the exception of a rather fine cotton handkerchief that
seemed to have imprinted much the same way the gloves had, something he’d keep
in mind for later. It went on a hook near the jacket but not touching, while
the rest went into the silk bag.

All that was left now were his keys, watch and
fob. He picked up the watch fob first — though the most expensive, the charms
on it were deceptively simple, and he felt himself relaxing as the chord rang
out pure and clean in his head. He allowed himself a few minutes to just cradle
it and clear his mind before it went into a silk pouch and, after a moment,
into the bag.

The watch, on the other hand, was quite
complex, but the magical harmonies had been expertly tuned and there wasn’t a
single note out of place as it marched the time forward with a rather martial
air. Again, he listened for a long time, long enough to hear the places where
the pattern repeated and where it wove and rewove itself continuously, and to
reassure himself that nothing was interfering with any of it.

Finally, only his keys were left, and he had to
sigh. If any of his magic items had been tainted, he expected it would be
these. Each one was tuned to him specifically so that only he could use it, and
he’d made the keychain himself to keep them being lost or stolen. They were by
far the most intimate magic item he carried on him, though he had others that
he’d fortunately left home today.

With everything else placed outside or muffled
in silk, it was easy to hone in on the keys and chain, listening to the
familiar snippets of song, each a variation on his own individual theme, mixed
with the larger theme of whatever building or institution the key belonged to.
While the whole group of them was a bit jangling and discordant, only two of
the keys held that same irritating buzz, and he removed them and slipped them
into his jacket, along with the key-finder charm he’d made for the ring.

All in all, it wasn’t too bad of a loss, though
it annoyed him that he’d have to remake the charm and get new keys.

Alex put his remaining keys in the silk bag
with the rest, then threw it over his shoulder and emerged into his work room.
He left his discarded clothing where it was, left the bag on a bench and strode
— naked but for his improvised scarf — out into his living room, intent on
finding a robe and a cup of tea.

Unfortunately, he had a
visitor.

“What are you doing
here?” he said, resisting the urge to hide himself.

Victor rolled his eyes. “I was checking up
on my brother after an accident, what have you been doing in there?”

“I was checking over everything I was
wearing for contamination,” replied Alex, refusing to let his brother
fluster him. “And as you can see, I’m perfectly intact, so you can leave
now.”

“Tetchy,” said Victor, glancing at
his own watch. “You never were very hospitable, though.”

Alex just glared.

“Fine, fine, I’m going,” said Victor,
giving a last glance at Alex’s body, this time considering. “You’re more
fit than I thought, perhaps you should arrange for young Julian to walk in on
you next time.”

“Out!” said Alex,
pointing to the door.

Victor smirked, but he left.

Alex resisted the urge to just collapse on the
sofa and instead went to find silk pyjamas and a matching robe, covering
himself from neck to ankles in the soft, insulating fabric.

He was glad he did, because he’d barely put the
kettle on when there was a knock on the door.

“You can’t be a relative, they never
knock,” he said as he went to the door, opening it to find Lapointe
waiting.

“I’m much better than a relative,”
she said, holding up a pastry box. “I have cupcakes.”

Alex laughed. “Then you can come in,
tea’ll be ready in a tick,” he said, stepping back so she could get
inside. “I take it you’ve been elected to keep an eye on me?”

Lapointe chuckled. “Smedley told me to
make sure you weren’t going to sue the department,” she said, sitting at
his little kitchen table and opening the pastry box. Inside rested a dozen
cupcakes in an assortment of flavours, the frosting perfectly swirled and
looking terribly tempting.

He forced himself to make up the tea rather
than just eat the whole box. “He didn’t want to come himself and risk being
the next target of my affections?” asked Alex, amused.

She snorted. “The way you’ve been yanking
his chain? It’s a wonder he was willing to loan you his couch,” she
teased.

Alex got the tea steeping and on its trivet,
then got out cups and the like out for both of them. “I forget, how do you
take actual tea?” he asked teasingly, getting the sugar and milk out
before finally taking his seat.

“You don’t forget any such thing,”
she teased, “you just don’t like to think of taking it black.”

He made a face. “I suppose that’s
true,” said Alex, though in actuality they had coffee so often that he’d
let it slip his mind.

They spent a few minutes negotiating who got
which cupcake, and soon enough they’d settled into a comfortable silence
punctuated mostly by the eating of said cupcakes. It wasn’t until he’d had two
and started on a third that she broke the silence.

“Are you really all right?” asked
Lapointe, letting the worry show on her face.

Alex felt something warm in his chest, a
somewhat unfamiliar feeling of being genuinely cared for by a friend. “I
am, as far as I can tell. I might go to a temple over the weekend and get a
proper purification, but I’m not sure my tender skin could stand it.”

She chuckled. “I never thought of you as
religious,” she said, taking a sip of tea.

“Not that sort of temple, really. It’s
more that the purification frees the body and mind from the influences of the
outside world, including outside magic,” said Alex. “It’s all very
virtuous, though.”

Lapointe gave him an amused look. “I can
see why you’re not interested, then, I heard you nearly swept that new doctor
off his feet.”

“Hey, he’s the one who got me naked,”
protested Alex, but it was a weak protest.

She laughed, and he took that as his cue to
finish his third cupcake. She waited until he was licking frosting from his
fingers and demanded, “Now, you have to tell me how last night went.”

Alex sighed, but did as he
was told. After all, she had brought cupcakes.

~ ~ ~

Alex spent the next day replacing the ruined
keys, an annoyingly involved process that required he stay home for the magical
locksmith. He couldn’t even re-make his keychain, for fear of missing the man
while he was busy in the lab.

As a result, Alex was very cranky when he went
in to the department the day after, defiantly clad in his usual black. His one
concession to making peace was that he came bearing some coffee worth drinking,
and a box of what he knew were Murielle’s secret vice — French macarons.
Lapointe wasn’t in her office, however, so he headed to the other place he
usually found her, next to the coffee pot.

“The phrase ‘creamy mounds’ does come to
mind, but that’s all I’ll say about it,” Geoff was saying as Alex walked
into the break room.

“But he doesn’t have tits,” said one
of the other agents, looking comically confused.

Alex had a moment of wanting to be angry, but
Geoff’s eyes met his and they both cracked up laughing. Alex knew he should be
affronted that Geoff was talking about the incident like it was gossip, but
somehow he couldn’t be too angry with such a complimentary attitude.

“He wasn’t looking at my front,” said
Alex with a smirk, turning to hand Lapointe her coffee and feeling all eyes on
his rear, hidden though it was by his long coat.

“Oi, that’s not sporting!” said the
agent who’d been confused earlier. “I’ll never get that image out of my
head now.”

Geoff laughed. “I know I won’t,” he
said, though he didn’t sound at all displeased at the prospect.

Alex just looked smug. “Just remember,
it’s look but don’t touch,” he said, deliberately addressing the poor
agent, though he sent a wink in Geoff’s direction.

They all laughed at that, as they were meant
to, and Alex was feeling much cheered as Lapointe led him away from the small
group. “You took that better than I expected,” she said, after her
door was shut.

Alex shrugged. “Geoff said just enough to
satisfy them, but he made it clear he wouldn’t be saying any more.”

“Yes, they’re all very sad that he won’t
confirm the rumours that you’ve got a python in your pants and that’s what
makes you such an arrogant bastard,” she said, leaning on the edge of her
desk and sipping the coffee. “Mmm, you do bribe me well for putting up
with you.”

Alex grinned. “I have more,” he said,
pulling the box of macarons out of one of his voluminous coat pockets.
“Your favourite.”

“They had the rose geranium ones?”
she asked, already grabbing the box. She opened it and inhaled the sweet,
flowery fragrance, then plucked one out and bit it in half with a sigh of pure
culinary joy.

Alex chuckled. “I don’t know how you can stand
those things, they taste like those little carved soaps old ladies put in their
bathrooms,” he said, pulling a box of simple vanilla almond ones out of
his other pocket for himself.

She laughed. “Men,” was all she said,
before blissfully consuming the other half. After a few moments of happy
chewing and another sigh, she gave him a considering look and asked, “All
right, what are you bribing me for?”

Alex gave her his very best puppy-dog eyes and
said, “I need help with gifts.”

“Gifts,” she said dubiously, but she
didn’t refuse him right off. “As in, for this Courtship?”

Alex nodded. “All the other men are very
big money high society, and their gifts will be the same, stuff that’s trying
to impress him with how very impeccable their taste is and how very expensive
the stuff was,” he explained, “and I was hoping you could help me
find something that’s more, I dunno, that’s got personality.”