The Courtship of Julian St. Albans (40 page)

Alex turned to see the fog coalescing in the
far corner, flowing faster and faster until a figure formed. Suddenly it all
made sense — Duckworth wasn’t making the fog, Duckworth
was
the fog. “Clearly you weren’t spanked enough as a
child,” said Alex, pulling up the full force of his most irritating
persona. “Did Daddy treat you like you were invisible? Did Mummy ignore
you?”

“Shut up, none of this would be necessary
if it wasn’t for you,” spat Duckworth. “Willoughby almost had him,
and then all the ripe power of the St. Albans lands would have been mine, while
he got his money and his little toy.”

“Except Julian turned out to have more of
a spine than either of you,” said Alex. “Look at you, you can barely
hold yourself together as a solid, let alone a man.”

“Shut up!” yelled Duckworth, his
outline blurring and twisting in on itself. “Always talking, you love the
sound of your own voice.”

“And you hate the sight of your own face,
so which one of us is really the weirdo here?” said Alex with a shrug.
“I’m the one engaged to Julian, Willoughby’s the one bleeding in the
hallway, and you’re the one whining in a corner.”

There was no more fog flowing into the room,
and a pounding on the door suggested that someone had finally noticed where it
was disappearing to. Duckworth had almost managed to resume the form he was in
earlier, with his grey suit and simple mask, but his form kept shifting and
flickering here and there, leaving wisps of himself behind.

“You know what the best way is to combat
mages when you’re not a mage?” said Jacques, stepping up beside Alex.

James moved quickly on the other side, hand
flicking out as a spray of powdery crystals tore through Duckworth’s image,
dispelling it. Alex took one huge step forward and stamped the end of his cane
on Duckworth’s flickering foot, anchoring it with the powerful, antique
grounding-spell in the steel, so Duckworth was trapped inside the powder that
had settled down on the floor around him.

“Salt,” said
James, his smile vicious.

Jacques kicked open the door, Duckworth’s spell-lock
fading as he himself began to fade. It took a lot of energy to stay yourself
while in an incorporeal form like this, one of many reasons that Alex had never
been much for the whole shape-shifting branch of magic, and it looked like
Duckworth’s was running out.

“Do I even want to know?” asked
Lapointe, stumbling over the tapestry on the floor, her eyes on their very
strange tableau. James was drawing a proper salt-circle around Duckworth,
trapping him there more effectively until they could find a way to contain him
for good.

“The fog was Duckworth, he transmuted
himself and now he’s having trouble keeping it together,” said Alex, his
grin vicious.

“I can’t arrest him
like that,” said Lapointe, annoyed. “Fix it.”

“Can’t,” said Alex. “Get a
genie-bottle, that’ll hold him until he can figure himself out enough for a
trial.”

Duckworth couldn’t seem to find his voice, but
his face held nothing but variations on fury as it flickered in and out so
sometimes none was visible and sometimes ten of him, all angry at being
thwarted.

“You and your expensive props,” said
Lapointe disgustedly. “I’m guessing you don’t have one you can loan
us?”

“Ask the hotel concierge,” said Alex,
and at her dubious look he said, “No, really, if a cleaning lady breaks
some guest’s genie-bottle, they need one on hand to replace it before there’s
even more expensive consequences.”

Alex was getting more and more tired just from
standing there at an awkward angle, but he didn’t want to risk that it was the
combination of steel and salt that was keeping Duckworth anchored to this
world, however thinly, rather than just the salt. There was some commotion by
the door, but it was just the officers bringing Julian his rather sodden
costume, and then a porter who arrived, panting, with the hotel’s spare
genie-bottle.

“I hate you for being right,” said
Lapointe, as the porter came over with her and helped her with the inscription.
As the last syllable rang out, Alex drew his cane back through the salt, and
Duckworth was drawn out of the circle and into the bottle with a silent scream
of pure rage. “That was the weirdest arrest I have ever made.”

“And now you get to read rights to a
bottle,” said Alex. He swayed where he was standing, and then Julian was
there with a chair. “Someone dried my coat and found my apple and
bird,” he said, sounding very sad.

“Oh, Horace,” said
Alex. “Let me see?”

Julian unfolded the coat to reveal the still,
quiet form of the little bird, one wing quite damaged and his little beak bent.
Alex touched him with a soft little mmm, the closest he could manage to real
magic at the moment. It took a second of listening, but then he heard it, and
smiled. “He just needs a bit of repair,” said Alex, carefully
gathering up the bird and tucking it away into his own breast pocket.
“He’ll gather strength from being close to me, and I’ll fix him as soon as
I can, love, I promise.”

As if that was just one thing too many,
Julian’s stricken face melted into tears and he curled himself right up into
Alex’s lap and cried, while James and Jacques performed one last function as
Guardians and moved to block the sight from the bustling Agents.

CHAPTER
30

In Which We Say Goodbye and Also Hello

The day after the Masquerade, Alex was
exhausted and elated and a bit saddened, because the case was solved, he was
engaged, and James and Jacques were going home.

“I don’t suppose I could convince you my
ankles are really in danger of dust bunny attacks,” said Alex
disconsolately, watching James scour the flat, packing both their bags while
Jacques prepared a final farewell brunch.

“We’re not going away
forever,” said James. “We’ll visit.”

“You’ll come to the
Temple to visit us sometimes,” said Jacques.

“I still have to make amulets for you, we
never did decide what would mesh well with your Guardian stuff,” said
Alex. He knew he sounded pouty but he didn’t quite care, bundled up on the
couch sipping his tea and nursing a headache from overextending his magic
again.

“Take these,” said James, pressing
two aspirin into Alex’s hand. “You need to stop wallowing, your fiancé‘s
bound to come by sometime today.”

Alex smiles a bit goofily and popped the pills.
“I suppose he won’t mind that my chaperones have gone.”

“Finish your tea and come get fed,”
said Jacques, and then he added under his breath, “you big baby.”

Alex laughed and downed his tea, then made his
way out of his blankets and into the kitchen. Jacques had outdone himself,
making crepes full of spiced pears and sweet whipped cream, little bread rounds
toasted with slices of apple and cheese on top, scones with clotted cream and
honey, two kinds of sausages and fried ham, plus a fresh pot of tea. “I’m
really, really going to miss you,” said Alex, but his tone was lighter as
he sat down and started out by serving up a little saucer of the foods for
their butterfly fairy.

Now that the danger was past, Alex left the
cage door open, though he warned the fairy not to try to leave the flat,
because it wouldn’t be able to return. “We’ll figure out what to do about
you permanently later,” he told it, and it made a shooing gesture as it
hunkered down to its plate, full of pear sauce, honey, whipped cream, clotted
cream, and even a bit of soft, melty cheese.

James chuckled, his own plate piled high.
“Once it figures out how you normally eat, it’ll be willing to go back to
Julian’s estate with him,” he said.

Alex laughed. “It’s true, once Jacques
leaves me, I’ll be back to being in danger of never seeing a fresh fruit
again.” There was, in fact, fresh fruit juice for them, a rich red blood
orange juice that reminded Alex of the Courtship dinner. Alex took a little of
everything and started to eat, making ecstatic little noises over all of it.

“You’ll live,” said Jacques, sitting
and serving himself. “And besides, soon enough you’ll be living with
Julian and his chef.”

“Mm, that’s true, his chef is
magnificent,” said Alex. Then he sighed. “If only that didn’t mean
learning to run the whole damned estate.”

“You’ll figure it out, and you’ll hire
people to help,” said James, his expression serious. “You’ve never
hesitated to ask others when you’re out of your depth.”

Alex chuckled wryly and then ate another bite
of deliciousness. “I suppose that’s true, I’m just used to living on my
own. I don’t even have a proper pet.”

“How is Horace,
anyway?” asked Jacques.

“He’ll be okay, he’s got a bit of damage
but he doesn’t feel it the same way people do. Once I repair him, he’ll be
himself again.” Alex had slept with the bird on its own pillow next to
him, and already he could hear Horace’s music more strongly. The bird’s hollow
structure had actually worked for it in this case, the space where letters
would go providing a place for metal to bend into rather than breaking off at
impact. He’d have to painstakingly construct a few more feathers and possibly a
new beak, but the heart of Horace, the complex interweaving of spells that made
up his personality, that was still intact.

“Julian’s very fond of him,” said
James. “Perhaps he’s just marrying you for your bird.”

Alex chuckled. “He’s marrying me as the
best of bad choices,” he said with a sigh. “But I’ll take it, because
I’m selfish and in love with him.”

“He’s in love with
you,” said Jacques pointedly.

“There is that,” said Alex, a grin
playing around his mouth. “It’ll be worth it, and maybe Emmeline will
help, too.”

“Speaking of help,” said James,
“Father Stephen wishes me to remind you that you offered to help at the
Temple.”

Alex chuckled. “Not until I’m fully
recovered from magical exhaustion and I’ve made Con’s bauble. Not to mention
your two amulets, something for Jones, and a new one for myself as well.”

“How will you sustain yourself in the
meantime?” asked Jacques, looking worried.

Alex chuckled. “On the giant check I’ll
get from the Agency, once I’ve added up all my hours and expenses. I did solve
several of their cases, after all, including the Mandeville murder I was
originally hired for.”

The Guardians laughed. “I’d forgotten you
were under contract,” said Jacques sheepishly.

“Well, it’s not as if you ever need to
worry about making up billable hours,” said Alex fondly. “While I’m
in the work room doing a lot of artefact construction, I’ll probably take some
more commissions as well. Satyr’s Gift fertility charms are a ton of work, but
I have all of the expensive equipment now, so if I can find three buyers I can
do them in a batch.”

They chatted on about what was in store for the
future as they ate, and Jacques assured Alex that he’d spent the morning making
sure there was food in the fridge that was within Alex’s ability to heat up.
They ended up back in the living room, playing gin and talking about the
various Guardian magics while Alex noodled around with some notes on possible
amulets.

“So you can just invent
an amulet, if you know how?” asked Jacques.

“Well, you can, though with most things
there’s no sense bothering. I mean, why go through the trouble to figure out
the perfect quit-smoking charm when there’s a well-tested formula
already?” Alex tapped his notes. “Even these, I’ll be using other
people’s designs and adding my own twist to them, and of course your personal
contributions.”

James chuckled. “Have you figured out if
you need anything but blood?” he asked.

“Oh! Should we get his blood now?”
asked Jacques, touching the spot under his shirt where his Guard-Knife hid.

“When he visits the Temple next
week,” said James, shaking his head. “He’s too depleted now.”

Alex nodded. “I’ll come by for lunch and
we’ll make plans for the rest, I’ll be seeing Dr. Chesterfield tomorrow for
another round of lectures and treatment.”

“Better tired than
dead,” said James philosophically.

“Too true,” said Alex. “And no,
I haven’t, though blood and breath might be enough for what I’m thinking of. I
don’t know, semen might really help, since it’s a symbol of the Guardian’s
virility given in service to the Temple, but on the other hand having you spill
it for me might spoil the symbolism, so…”

Jacques giggled. “I’m sure we’ll work
something out,” he said fondly, followed by a triumphant laying down of
cards. “Gin.”

Alex was about to say something when the
doorbell rang. “I really hope that’s not a relative,” said Alex,
levering himself up with his cane. His leg actually ached less today, one small
blessing among the rest.

“Did you miss me?”
said Julian, as Alex swung open the door.

Alex’s face lit up in a grin. “Julian! I
did in fact miss you so much I let Jacques beat me at gin,” he said,
swinging Julian up and into the flat and kissing him sweetly. “What brings
you here?”

“I have good news,” said Julian,
snuggling up to Alex’s side. “Well, sort of good.”

“Come have a cup of tea and share, then,”
said Alex, pulling Julian over to the sofa. “Is there any left in the
pot?”

Jacques swirled it and shook his head.
“I’ll make a fresh one,” he said with a chuckle. “One last
service.”

“I’m pretty sure that was always just a
favour for friends,” said Alex, “but thank you.”

“Not to mention
self-interest,” said James. “Bring sweets, please?”

“Ooh, speaking of sweets, you really do
give the best gifts,” said Julian with a giggle and another kiss.

Alex cuddled close, cane set aside while they
sat. “You’re very welcome… Now, what’s the news?”

Kettle on, Jacques leaned in the kitchen
doorway and looked on just as James was with undisguised curiosity.

Julian sighed. “After you all suggested
it, I talked to my lawyers, and just today they got the whole Courtship
nullified on the basis of magical coercion,” he said, biting his lip.
“That’s good, right?”

“Yes,” said Alex, sincerely glad that
Julian had finally found a way out of the velvet trap. “That’s very
good… As long as you’ll still date me?”

They all laughed at that, and Julian giggled
and kissed him. “I will, and I talked to Emmy and she said she thinks if
she marries someone with the proper, you know, training and stuff, that we can
transfer all the titles and some of the other stuff over to him.”

“And you can come live in my grotty little
flat with me?” asked Alex, feeling a weird mix of relief and disbelief.

Julian giggled. “Well, as long as we can
visit home a lot,” he said, “then, yes, I’d hoped you’d want me to
move in here and see if we’re really meant to be married.”

“If you can live with me when I’m not on
my best behaviour, you mean,” said Alex, amused. “Yes, of course you
can, you can even just stay here a few nights at a time at first.”

“Good,” said Julian. “Perhaps
I’ll start with tonight,” he added, sly and just a little sensual.

James laughed. “We’ll be gone soon, so
you’ll have your man all to yourself,” he said with a wink.

Jacques came out with the teapot and set it
down on the tray to brew, along with a clean cup for Julian.
“Actually,” he said, “we have a favour to ask you.”

Alex cocked his head; they hadn’t told him they
wanted to talk to Julian, and now he was curious.

“Oh, yes?” asked
Julian, looking from one to the other. “What is it?”

“We wanted to know if you’d anoint our
Guard Knives with your blood, since you were as much our charge as Alex, last
night,” said James, reaching under his shirt to pull out the little blade.
He pointed to the rough diamond on the pommel. “Just a drop of blood,
here.”

Julian’s face went all proud and happy.
“I’d love to, if you think I deserve to,” he said.

“We do, very much. We can’t get Alex’s
donation until he’s recovered a little more, though,” said Jacques,
pulling out his own blade. “So it’d just be you, today.”

“That’s fine,”
said Julian. “Do I need something, a pin or something?”

“This very sharp knife I’m holding will do
just fine,” said James, amused. “Just give me your hand,” he
said, holding out his own.

Julian laid his hand in James’ trustingly, palm
up, and James used the very tip of the blade to prick the pad of Julian’s
thumb.

“Repeat after me: By your service, I
live,” said James, “then press your thumb on the crystal.”

“By your service, I live,” said
Julian, his voice ringing with sincerity at the words, full of the knowledge
that he might be dead or worse if it wasn’t for the Guardians’ help. He smeared
blood over the crystal, which flared and absorbed it, leaving his thumb healed
and clean, every drop of blood gone.

“Thank you,” said
James, kissing the stone before putting the knife away.

“I should be thanking you, this is
nothing,” said Julian, waving his hand. “Emmy says I’m to make a
donation to the Temple, she’s finding out what’s appropriate.”

“Your sister’s a smart
one,” said Alex, kissing his hair.

Without being asked this time, Julian gave his
hand to Jacques for a repeat of the little ritual. Although Alex himself still
had loose ends, it did give him a sense of closure for the strange experience
of being Guarded, engaged and now once again single and living alone, though
perhaps not for long.

“Now, let’s play that Guardian game you
showed us until your ride gets here,” said Alex, pouring their tea.

Everyone agreed, and for a while they were just
four friends playing cards and sharing an afternoon.

~ ~ ~

After awkward farewell hugs for both the
Guardians, Julian pointedly locked Alex’s door and pushed him up against it.

“You have been playing the maiden all
through my Courtship,” said Julian, pulling Alex down for a kiss.

Alex laughed into the kiss, but wrapped his
arms around Julian anyway, trapping him for another that was long and slow and
so very good. “Why, Mr. St. Albans, are you suggesting I should surrender
my virtue to your ravishment?”

Julian giggled. “No, I’m saying you should
hurry up and ravish me,” he said, kissing Alex again. “Though I
suppose if your leg’s not up to it, I can always be on top.”