The Courtship of Julian St. Albans (33 page)

They woke him from a light doze he’d been quite
enjoying, and far too soon at that. “We’re here,” said Lapointe.
“James is going to go in and inspect the place, and then we’ll
follow.”

“I’m staying with the
car,” said Jones. “I brought a book.”

Alex chuckled. “Thank you,” he said,
then yawned and stretched while James headed out. “Why is it you usually
get stuck with me?” he asked Jacques curiously.

“I’m bigger, I can shield more of you with
my body if need be,” said Jacques. “Especially if you tuck in those
skinny limbs of yours.”

Alex gave a fond chuckle. “Well, let’s
hope it never comes to that,” he said, not allowing himself to think of
what might happen to Jacques, were he to end up playing human shield.

Lapointe poked around in the compartments and
found the little mini-fridge, handing out bottles of water. “Hydration is
good,” she said, cracking her own, “and it gives us something to do
while we wait.”

Alex laughed, digging around on his side and
tossing them each a packet of snacks. Victor kept an odd stash of food in here,
and Alex’s packet turned out to actually be dried apples, sliced paper-thin and
turned into crisps.

“Victor has weird taste,” said
Lapointe, munching on what appeared to be banana chips.

“He really does,” agreed Alex, but he
ate his apple bits anyway, and drank his water. “I think I’m in a
permanent sugar crash from yesterday,” he groused, hating how awful he
felt after the unexpected, unprepared and sustained use of strong magic. Even
if it was completely expected and normal.

“This isn’t bad,” said Jacques,
nibbling on his own bag, which appeared to actually be blue. “Purple
potato crisps, it says.”

“Weird,” said Alex
and Lapointe in unison.

That sparked a bout of trading off a bit of
this for a bit of that, and they were in the midst of considering combinations
when the door opened.

“It’s safe enough, but try to keep it
short, their wards are for crap,” said James.

“After you,” said Alex, downing the
last of his apple bits thankfully without having to try it with the weird
potato crisp after all.

“Chicken,” said Lapointe, bravely
eating her last bit of banana with one of the potato things. She made a face,
then slipped out of the car, looking a bit like a bodyguard herself as she
scanned the street.

“Smart,” said
Jacques, gesturing for Alex to go next.

Alex levered himself out with far too much
reliance on his cane to get and stay upright, then moved enough out of the way
for Jacques to follow. James led him inside without really pausing to wait,
though Alex heard the car door and felt Jacques’ familiar presence behind them
as they entered.

“Mr. Benedict, I am so sorry to hear of
your troubles,” said the designer himself, waiting in the main shop floor.
“We have a private room set up with coffee and a little snack, your
Guardian,” the man gave James a nervous glance, “approved
everything.”

“Thank you, you’ve been very
understanding,” said Alex, following the man into the back where there
were several smaller rooms for consultations, and the bigger one where Alex had
been last time. They went into one of the side rooms this time, and James
stayed outside while Jacques stood just inside, though they did pass James a
coffee once the food was deemed once again un-tampered.

“Sorry to be paranoid,” said Alex,
seeing the designer’s face as Jacques checked everything again, “but I was
almost fed poisoned cake yesterday.”

“Oh, my!” said the designer, sitting
and fluttering his hands. “You must have some very powerful enemies, Mr.
Benedict.”

“It’s all to do with the St. Albans case,
we’re fairly sure,” said Murielle. “I’m Agent Lapointe, Alex works
with us on cases sometimes as a consultant.”

“How fascinating. I’m Gerard, of course.
Now, about your costume?” said the designer, pulling out a computer touch
pad. “I think you should stick to dark colours, be the man of
mystery.”

“Oh, yes, I’d look ridiculous
otherwise,” agreed Alex, feeling thankful of that. “Do you know what
sort of costumes are going to be acceptable?”

“Of course, of course,” said Gerard,
giving him a look that suggested it was a bit insulting even to ask.
“You’ll wear a very formal frock coat, waistcoat, the whole bit, with a
fancy shirt that fits your theme and a mask, and any cravat or shirt
decorations will fit your mask’s theme.”

“Ah,” said Alex
with a sigh. “So, what sorts of themes do people go for?”

“Oh, all sorts of things,” said
Gerard, clearly having wanted his chance to design one of these for a long
time, if the variety of photos on his tablet computer was any indication.
“Animals, plants, gods and natural forces, creatures of myth and legend
and actual fae, too, though one must be careful or that’s just inviting
mischief.”

“Of course,” said Alex. “I like
this,” he said, pointing out a costume with a mask that covered only half
the face, designed like an old-fashioned drawing of the moon.

“Man in the moon, not very original but it
would let you wear dark blue,” said Gerard, making a note. “I was
hoping perhaps you’d go more avant garde.”

“Like what?” asked
Alex, intrigued despite himself.

Gerard lit up, and he spent a moment pulling up
a different folder of images. These were more abstract, but Alex could figure
out what most of them were meant to represent. There was a man dressed as his
own shadow, his suit and mask white in back and black in front, fading from one
to the other along the sides. Another had a fantastical headpiece made of a
hundred small wires suspended in the image of a whirling breeze. These tended to
be the ones with more elaborate masks, but also the most interesting metaphors.

“All right, and what did you suggest for
me, then?” asked Alex, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Gerard grinned. “Magic,
you need to be magic.”

“I can’t be magic the way I see it,
because I don’t, only seventy percent of mages are sight-based,” said
Alex. “So, what are you thinking of?”

“Mages and sensitives,” corrected
Gerard, and then Alex got the clue. Gerard didn’t want to represent the way
Alex saw magic, but the way the designer himself did.

“So, black suit, black everything, just
like the first time, only some sort of elaborate headpiece to give me a
magical… something?” said Alex, wanting to make sure he understood.

“Yes, exactly. I have a sketch
already,” said Gerard, poking at his tablet again. The image that came up
reminded Alex a little bit of the way James said he saw magic, glowing lines
creating a halo, centring the magic on the middle of Alex’s head, like it was
emanating out of him.

“That’s going to be awfully hard to hold a
conversation in,” said Alex dubiously. The Masquerade wouldn’t be a
dinner, nor would anyone be expected to eat a meal wearing their masks, but
they still had to dance and converse in them.

“Yes, I suppose so,” said Gerard with
a little sigh. “But you like the idea of it?”

“I’m not opposed to it, I just think all
those glowing lines would make it hard to walk, dance or talk. I’m not a runway
model.” Alex rolled his eyes as Lapointe nearly choked on her coffee at
that. “I have to actually function.”

“What about something with the light as a
halo in the back of your head, and a third eye mask in front,” said
Gerard, thinking aloud. He lifted up his tablet and took a photo of a scowling
Alex, then started to draw on it, the mask itself an asymmetrical swish of
black with some sort of white dots that Alex assumed were gems or sparkles of
some kind. The third eye glimmered out of the forehead, and the glowing lines
were brightest at the back of his head, fading out to nothing and then a bright
glow at the tip of each.

“Huh, that’s actually not bad,” said
Alex, thinking about it. He wouldn’t have to hide in one of the private alcoves
to eat or drink, though he probably would, anyway, just to get away from the
crowds. “What’re those?” he asked, pointing to the white dots that
had begun to proliferate on his clothing.

“Oh, diamonds, we’ll put them on the mask
and suit so they catch the light,” said Gerard, as if he suggested coating
one’s clothing with precious stones every day. “Don’t worry, they’ll be
small.”

“I’m just thinking I may have to warn the
accountant to raise the limit on my card,” said Alex with a wry laugh.

“Don’t be ridiculous, the clothing will go
on loan, and then it’ll be a showpiece for us afterward,” said Gerard.
“I’m sure we’ll sell it to a museum if you do marry him, and if not, we’ll
find a place for it in Paris.”

“Oh,” said Alex, laughing at himself.
“Well, then, diamond it up. Will you provide the accessories, too?”

“Oh, yes, everything, though if you shine
up those shoes, they will suffice. Unless… Well, if I have your permission to
work from this design and your previous measurements?” said Gerard,
clearly wanting to have some time alone with his creativity.

“Yes, of course, just call me to schedule
the fitting,” said Alex, downing his coffee and standing, feeling very
grateful that the meeting was so short.

“We’ll see you Sunday, too, to do your
hair,” said Gerard absently, already working on a second draft of the
design with a fresh photo.

“Oh, um, all right,” said Alex.
“See you soon.” He made good his escape, all of them making their way
back to the front of the shop and out to the waiting car.

“That was weird,” said Lapointe, as
they settled in to head to the hospital for Alex’s check-up.

Alex laughed, relaxing. “At least I’m not
the only one who thought so. And oh, god, did I just agree to wear a shiny
thing on my head and go dressed as magic?”

“You really did,” she said with a
chuckle. “But take heart, the rest of them are probably going to have
costumes that are just as weird, if not weirder.”

“You’ll look fine,” said Jacques.
“He wants his creation to end up on the best dressed lists, not the
worst.”

“His reputation is at
stake, too,” pointed out James.

Alex chuckled. “I suppose so, though what
fashion designers think is stupid-looking is not always the same as my own
taste.”

“Fair enough,” said Lapointe,
“and of course there’ll be photos of you in that getup all over the
internet, which means all over the Agency next time you swan in all posh and
superior.”

Alex let his head fall back against the
headrest and closed his eyes. “This will be worse than my creamy mounds,
won’t it?”

“Oh, yeah,” said
Lapointe gleefully. “You’re doomed.”

He really hated that she had
a point.

~ ~ ~

Dr. Chesterfield declared Alex was definitely
still suffering magical exhaustion and prescribed him a new series of medicinal
potions and a vitamin supplement as well. He’d already pulled everything from
the pharmacy ahead of time, and he made Alex take the first dose right there,
giving him leave to skip today’s physical therapy so long as he did some
stretches when he got home.

The Guardians were nervous the whole time they
were in the busy hospital, and everyone relaxed once they were back in the
amulet-protected car and on their way to Alex’s flat.

“Are you staying for lunch,
Murielle?” asked Alex. She’d taken custody of the little box of potion
bottles, the emptied slot filled with vitamins, and held them protectively in
her lap.

“Probably through dinner, if it’s not
imposing,” she said. “We haven’t really had time to get your
statement, for one thing.”

“It’s no problem,” said Jacques.
“Victor delivered enough food to feed a family of seven, and we need to
eat or cook it before it goes off.”

“Was it my imagination, or was there a
whole chicken in the big cooler?” asked Alex.

“There was, but it went into yesterday’s
stew,” said Jacques. “Which we’ll have for lunch, along with more
bread, this time toasted with the cheese on top, I think.”

“I approve of this
plan,” said Alex, sighing happily at the thought of it.

“And then afterward
you’ll do your stretches with me,” said James.

Alex chuckled. “I knew you two wouldn’t
let me slack off on that, but let me give Lapointe my statement while I digest
first.”

“Deal,” said
James, grinning.

“Ugh,” said Alex. “After
stretching, I want a nap.”

“If you take your flute in with you,
that’s fine,” said James. “Your bedroom has better wards, though not
as good as the work room ones.”

“Well, once this is all over, I’ll be
adding to everything as best I can. Some of what I did today will be permanent,
too,” said Alex. That turned the discussion more theoretical, and they
talked about warding magic all the way home, while Lapointe mostly shook her
head and looked baffled.

Forensics was still picking through ant
carcasses when they got home, but nothing came out of the woodwork this time,
and the elevator had been checked and declared free of damage or vermin, so
they rode up together with Smedley, filling each other in.