The Harlequin   ::   Гамильтон Лорел

One of the things I liked about shoulder holsters as opposed to carrying on the hip is that you don't run the risk of dumping the gun in the toilet. Inner pants holsters that don't go through a belt loop are some of the most precarious for bathroom use. Guns, unlike pagers, do not float.

I smoothed the stockings in place, glad that I wasn't having to struggle with pantyhose anymore. Garter and stockings really are more comfortable. The bathroom was empty as I pushed the door open. I started for the sinks when I saw the box sitting across one of them. «Anita» was printed on the box in black block letters.

That little dickens. How had Nathaniel gotten in here to leave a present? If he'd been caught in the ladies' restroom, it could have gone badly. I washed and dried my hands, then opened the box. I had to fold back layers of white tissue paper before I found a mask. It was white and would have covered everything but the eyes from forehead to chin. It was utterly plain, a blank white face staring up at me. Why would he buy me this? If it had been leather and fetish-looking, I might have guessed something more adventurous on the sexual front, but this didn't look like that kind of mask. Of course, I wasn't an expert on that kind of mask, so maybe that was what it was for. If so, he hadn't sold me on the idea. I didn't like masks, and I was far from comfortable with bondage and submission. The fact that I had leanings that way myself hadn't made me like it more; on the contrary, it scared me more because of it. You hate most in others what you're afraid of in yourself.

I tried to find an expression that was neutral, but pleased, and walked out carrying the box. Nathaniel was waiting against the far wall, holding both our coats and his hat. The leather hat got hot indoors. He smiled when he saw me and walked toward me with a quizzical look on his face. «Did someone leave that in the bathroom?»

I showed him that it had my name on it. «I thought you were trying to surprise me.»

«You hate surprises,» he said.

My pulse sped up, not a lot, but a little. I moved us so that the wall was at my back. I was suddenly looking at the people near us, looking hard; but everyone looked innocent, or at least not guilty. Couples holding hands, families with kids in tow: it all looked normal.

«What's in there?» Nathaniel asked.

«A mask,» I whispered.

«Can I see it?»

I nodded.

He moved the lid and tissue paper, while I kept searching the happy moviegoers for evil intent. There was a couple staring a little too hard at us, but that could be other things.

«It looks like someone started to make a mask and stopped before they finished,» he said.

«Yeah, it looks too blank.»

«Why would someone give you this?»

«Did you see someone carry this in?»

«It's a big box, Anita. I'd have noticed.»

«Did anyone carry in a bigger-than-average purse?»

«Not one big enough to hide this.»

«You were standing right there, Nathaniel. You had to see.»

We exchanged a look. «I didn't see this.»

«Shit,» I said low and with feeling.

«Someone was messing with you earlier, and they messed with me to get inside the bathroom,» he said.

«Did you sense anything?» I asked.

He thought about it, and finally shook his head. «No.»

«Double shit.»

«Call Jean-Claude, now,» he said.

I nodded and handed him the box so I could use my cell phone. Nathaniel wrapped the mask back up while I waited for Jean-Claude to pick up. This time he actually answered his office phone himself. «I got a present,» I said.

«What did our pussycat buy you?» he asked, not offended that I hadn't said hello first.

«Nathaniel didn't buy it.»

«It is not like you to speak in riddles, ma petite .»

«Ask me what it is,» I said.

«What is it?» and his voice was sliding into that blankness he did so well.

«A mask.»

«What color is it?»

«You don't sound surprised,» I said.

«What color is it, ma petite ?»

«What does that matter?»

«It matters.»

«White, why?»

He let out a breath I hadn't known he was holding, and spoke softly and heatedly in French for several minutes, until I could get him calmed down enough to speak English to me.

«It is good news, and bad, ma petite . White means they have come to observe us, not to harm us.»

I moved so that my hand covered my mouth as I talked. I wanted to keep an eye on the drifting crowd, but I didn't want some human to overhear what promised to be a tricky conversation. But I didn't want to go outside until I found out how much danger we were in. The crowd was both a danger and a help. Most bad guys are reluctant to start cutting people up in a crowd. «What color would mean harm?» I asked.

«Red.»

«Okay, who is they , because I assume this means we've been contacted by the mystery whoever.»

«It does.»

«So who are they, what are they? And why the hell this cloak-and-dagger shit with the mask? Why not a letter or a phone call?»

«I am not certain. They would normally have sent the mask to me, as Master of the City.»

«Why send it to me, then?»

«I do not know, ma petite» He sounded angry, and he didn't usually get angry this easily.

«You're scared.»

«Very.»

«I guess we come to the Circus tonight, after all.»

«Apologize to Nathaniel for this ruining his date with you, but oui , you must come here. We have much to discuss.»

«Who are these guys, Jean-Claude?»

«The name will mean nothing to you.»

«Just tell me.»

«The Harlequin, they are the Harlequin.»

«Harlequin, you mean like the French clown?»

«Nothing half so pleasant, ma petite . Come home and I will explain.»

«How much more danger are we in?» The couple was still staring at us. The woman nudged the man, and he shook his head.

«White means they will observe only. This could be the only contact we have with them, if we are very, very lucky. They will watch us, then leave.»

«Why tell us at all, if that's all they plan to do?»

«Because it is our law. They may pass through a territory, or hunt someone across a territory, much as you hunt wicked vampires across state lines, but if they are planning to be within an area for more than a few nights, then they are bound by law to contact the Master of the City.»

«So this could be all about Malcolm and his church.»

«It could.»

«You don't believe that.»

«It would be too easy, ma petite , and nothing about the Harlequin is ever easy.»

«What are they?»

«They are the closest thing to police that we vampires have. But they are also spies, assassins. It was they who slew the Master of London when he went mad.