The Courtship of Julian St. Albans (23 page)

They found a tiny piece of the scorpion under
the fridge that way, and James called and arranged for it to be retrieved
tomorrow, producing a small strong-box of his own to hold it until it could be
entered into evidence. The cold iron shackle from the sprite went into the same
box, as well as the contaminated items from the curse, Alex’s pocket
handkerchief and keys. The jacket had lost all trace of contamination, hanging
isolated in Alex’s little shielded cupboard for more days than he cared to
count, so it went instead to the side of the closet reserved for items going to
the cleaners.

Nothing else was out of place magically, and
Alex actually tucked everything away physically as well, all the detritus of
Courtship put away in jewellery boxes and then, finally, he limped his way back
into the living room and set up a meditation pillow. “No talking until I’m
done with this bit, please,” he said, getting nods in return.

He found a position that was comfortable with
his leg still not fully recovered and meditated properly, letting himself dwell
on all the things bothering him in order to dismiss them, the violation of the
Temple, the intrusion in his flat, the cleaner and the Guardians. He let go of
his worries about family and future, let go of his worries about Julian and
Mandeville, the case and the danger, and finally found a place of balance
inside him, that tiny bit of inner sanctuary he could call home.

He opened his eyes and sighed, then stood up,
the cane grounding him, helping him hold onto that chord inside him. He nodded
to the Guardians, then limped back to his work room and retrieved the fine
silver flute that was one of his most expensive magical possessions, despite
being utterly unmagical. Silver was neutral and conductive, holding very little
magic on its own but passing things through itself pure and unaltered. He
pulled it out of its case, checked for tuning and cleanliness, then limped back
to his pillow.

“It won’t matter if you talk during this,
I won’t hear you, but don’t interfere unless I actually fall over, okay?”

“We know how it works, Mage,” said
James with that dry amusement of his, making Alex’s nature into a title much
like his own.

“Just making
sure,” Alex teased back.

Alex tucked his little watch-fob into the
waistband of his trousers so it would rest against his skin, then got
comfortable again, with the cane across his lap, the steel tip against the
floor for grounding. Then he focused on the wards he already had, humming
softly to tune into them, before picking up his flute and using it to rebuild
them into the wards he needed. He played his will and his magic into the tune,
the flute itself capable of a very simple two-note chord which he used to his
advantage, first drawing in the magic he’d already put there and then replacing
it with newer, stronger, tighter melodies, adding to the magic and building
with it. He played for over two hours, not even stopping when it came time to
do the bedroom wards, though the ones on the work room he left alone.

Those had taken days and a lot more power than
he currently had at his disposal, and were still as strong and impenetrable as
they day he’d cast them, as far as he’d been able to tell on his walk-through.

When he was done, Alex sagged on the pillow but
didn’t fall over, using one hand to brace himself while the other held the
flute in a cramping grip.

“Drink this,” said Jacques, who had
apparently been hovering nearby. The tea he offered had cooled a bit from
brewing, but that meant Alex could readily gulp down the herb-laden brew, one
he recognised from his own cupboards as a mild restorative. “Do you have
any potions?”

Alex chuckled, handing back the empty cup.
“Sleep will do me better, and some sweets. Another cup of that tea and a
slice of cake would be wonderful.”

“Will do,” said Jacques, looking
impressed, though by what Alex wasn’t sure.

Feeling restored enough to be going on with,
Alex levered himself up with the cane and took the flute back to his work room,
giving it a quick purifying clean before nestling it into its case with a soft
murmur of thanks.

The tea and cake were consumed with single-minded
intensity, and it was all Alex could do to switch to more normal — and
comfortable — pyjamas before falling into bed, exhausted all over again.

~ ~ ~

In the morning, Alex was lured out of bed by
the lovely smells of breakfast cooking, and he shuffled out with his hair a
mess, wearing his robe and slippers. “Some of that for me?” he asked,
the start of the sentence mostly lost in a big yawn.

Jacques grinned. “Oh, yes, you need the
calories, we’re having omelettes today, and James went out for pastries.”

“You two are saints, are you sure I can’t
keep you?” said Alex, mostly teasing, though really, he was starting to
feel very spoiled. He sat, leaning heavily on the cane on the way down, and
gave his new wards a little probe, whistling softly to activate the
status-spells he’d built in this time around. “Quiet night, anyway.”

Jacques grinned. “Your new wards are very
good, even James was impressed.”

Alex looked sleepily pleased. “It was
worth the expenditure of energy, then, though this means I’m definitely not
going to be conjuring another magical gift for Julian.”

The door opened, and Alex felt the whisper of
wards as James came in, the key-spell letting him in but the new wards keeping
an impression of his entry. “Cinnamon rolls for everyone, and double for
our busy mage,” said James cheerfully, opening the box and putting two on
a plate, then handing it to Alex along with the cup of tea Jacques was just
done pouring.

“What am I doing today again?” asked
Alex around a mouthful of sweet. He washed it down with tea, then answered his
own question. “Back to the Temple to finish being purified, then the
tailor, then shopping. Ugh, and we have to take your little box of ickies back
to the Agency.”

“Jones texted me directly, the Sharpish
boy will be taking over for Victor so he’s ours for the day,” said James.

Alex chuckled. “You’re all managing me
now, how will I stay infamously unpleasant if you keep me happy in my little
cocoon?”

“Somehow,” said Jacques, delivering a
plate with a steaming-hot omelette to James, “I think you’ll manage.
Finish your rolls, you can have the second one.”

Alex chuckled and ate obediently, feeling life
return as the caffeine and sugar hit his bloodstream. Maybe today wouldn’t be
too awful after all.

~ ~ ~

They actually let him start at the Temple this
time, breakfasted and showered and dressed, he felt about a thousand times
better, and he was both embarrassed and relieved to see Guardians at the Temple
entrance, who greeted his pair with warm familiarity.

“You’ve managed to get
him out of the hospital,” said one with a grin.

“Just as long as we keep him from going
back in while he’s here,” replied Jacques flippantly.

Alex felt, if anything, even more jumbled than
when he’d gone in the last time, but even so he was weirdly grateful when James
and Jacques stripped off into their own lockers. “I’ll go first,”
said James quietly, his voice full of reverence for their surroundings,
“then you, then Jacques.”

“All right,” agreed Alex. He blushed
a little to shed all his clothes, feeling like a skeleton next to the two fit
young men, skinner then ever from the hospital and fish-belly pale.

Jacques chuckled. “You have the look of a
dark romantic hero, all pale and brooding,” he teased.

“I’m not the one who took a vow of
celibacy,” teased Alex right back, as they all locked up. “After
you,” he said, gesturing to the same blue archway as last time.

“By all means,” teased James, though
it was clear he thought they were being a bit too silly for the occasion. He
headed off into the room, leaving the two of them to sit around in the
altogether and wait for the chime.

Rather than continue their banter, Alex and
Jacques settled onto benches by the archway and watched as James immersed
himself in the cold, mineral-laden water. Every movement spoke to Alex of a
real dedication to the Temple and the purification and solace he was receiving
today, and Alex was glad he’d decided to come back and finish what he’d
started. He was still reflecting on that gratitude when a chime sounded, and
James moved off to the next room, leaving the pool for Alex.

The ritual was soothing for Alex this time,
even though he wondered as he lowered himself into the pool how difficult it
had been for them to get all of his blood out of the tile. It was very quiet,
floating under the surface of the mineral water, and somehow the sting of salt
wasn’t as bad this time, a mere distraction to the peaceful surcease from
outside magic.

The rest of the purification went just as
smoothly, Alex letting go of his worries and coming out the other side calm and
relaxed. He’d somehow come to terms with his increasing infatuation with
Julian, and decided on several other things that brought all the pieces of his
current life into as much harmony as possible.

Once he was dressed, he sat down and sent a few
texts off to get things in order while they waited for Jacques to finish up.
Alex had emerged to find James dressed and chatting with another Guardian, so
he didn’t feel too guilty for ignoring them a bit longer.

“Where to next?” asked Jacques,
looking cheerful as ever as he came out of the green archway and went to unlock
his locker, unabashed in his nudity.

“Lunch with Fauna,” said Alex,
“then the tailor for my coat, the couturier for more clothes, and then off
to my favourite plant nursery for some supplies.”

“When did you get roped into lunch with
your sister?” asked James, amused, waving as the other Guardian left to
resume his duties.

“She texted me the reservations while we
were busy,” said Alex, amused. “It seemed easier not to fight
it.”

“At least it’s not both of them,”
said Jacques, in a tone that implied he’d been subjected to the pair of them
while Alex was unconscious.

“One at a time, they’re not so bad,”
agreed Alex. He stood when Jacques did, all three of them dressed and ready,
and they headed out the front door where the car was waiting.

Alex tried not to let it
bother him that he was already getting used to it.

~ ~ ~

Lunch wasn’t too torturous, and Fauna tagged
along to both tailors afterward to offer her opinions and once again try to get
Alex to wear pink. In the end, he allowed himself to be bullied into getting a
single pink shirt, which he would only wear with black and even then only in
dire circumstances, not that he admitted to the latter.

Horace caught up with him when they left the
second tailors, and Alex went into the nursery with the mechanical bird riding
happily on his shoulder, occasionally toying with his hair or nibbling at his
ear in an affectionate manner.

“Alex Benedict, you’re moving up in the
world,” said the proprietor fondly. Mary Margaret Stone was a solid woman
comfortably in middle age, her hair greying and figure spreading and her not
worried about it one bit. “I saw you in the paper! For a moment I thought
you were dead, but it was just the photo.”

Alex laughed and hugged her, careful to keep
Horace on the other side. He wasn’t sure how the bird would take to being
manhandled by a stranger. “It’s good to see you, too,” he said.
“I need your help for a little surprise.”

“Ooh, the best sort. Would this be for your
young man, then?” she asked, bustling over to where there was an electric
kettle behind the counter and filling it all the way up in the rusty old sink
while Alex followed her around like a devoted cat, though he did try not to get
underfoot.

“Of course,” admitted Alex readily.
He told her his idea while she made a pot of tea for the lot of them, pausing
to introduce his quiet Guardians so they could be asked how they liked their
cup.

“It’s not very traditional, but it’s very
you,” she said, amused. “I’ll help, of course, I think I have
everything you’ll need. Can your boys be counted on to carry things or do I
need the cart?”

Alex was glad that James just looked amused at
the designation. “We ought to keep our hands free, but we can push the
cart for you,” offered James. He and Jacques had been less than thrilled
by this choice of stops, the big glass nursery not half so well-warded as the
Temple.

They spent a good hour wandering around the
nursery, chatting and drinking tea and getting all the things Alex would need.
She was very impressed when he used Victor’s credit card to pay off not just
today’s purchase but the small tab he’d run when he came in last and had been
too busy to line up and pay, and instead had scarpered with his goods and
texted her a photo of what he’d taken.

Everything was loaded into the trunk of the
car, and they dropped off clothes and plants alike at his flat, and collected
the little box of contaminated items to take to the Agency.

“Let’s go get coffee first, I’m starting
to wear thin,” said Alex as they pulled up in front of the imposing
building.