large gold frames with solid backgrounds, giving them the look of paintings. Except that these paintings moved: dancing, gyrating and blowing kisses, I guess to entice visitors. Fun, I thought—right before one spotted Louis-Cesare.
A 2-D leg immediately emerged from the wall, stepping down onto the sidewalk in a six-inch, bright red, platform heel. A wiggle and a grunt later, and the rest of the body followed, clad in a red, floral pattered cheongsam, which barely managed to contain the unlikely curves within. The body was still 2-D for a second, but then she shivered all over and fluffed out to full size.
And full-size was no joke, because she was wasn’t Chinese, but rather a svelte blonde Valkyrie type who latched onto Louis-Cesare’s arm with a hand tipped in two-inch long, bright red nails.
“Back on the wall, Svetlana,” Elvis said, sounding annoyed.
Svetlana ignored him. “Aren’t you a handsome one?” she purred at my hubby. “And so tall. I love a tall man—”
“Did I stutter?” Elvis demanded.
She pouted at him. “I’m bored! All I ever get to do out here is wave at people. I want to go back inside—”
“You can go back inside when it’s your turn.”
“Hey, cutie.” A pair of jet-black nails latched onto Louis-Cesare’s other arm. “Well, aren’t you the one?”
I did a double take, both because the voice was low and husky enough to be a man’s, and because—
“Shit!” I said, stepping back a pace. The newbie was a Betty Boop clone, which was not fun in person. Not at all.
She’d looked kind of adorable on the wall, where I’d have assumed, if I’d had time to assume anything, that she was advertising some sort of cosplay. But no. The head was hugely oversized, and the eyes were massive and glassy and staring. The body was tiny by comparison, ludicrously so, and completely black and white except for a little gray shading here and there.
“You can ask for me at the desk,” she told Louis-Cesare huskily, who was just standing there, appearing vaguely stunned. “They put me out here, but if you ask—”
“Back on the wall!” Elvis said, sounding pissed.
And then he said something else, but I didn’t hear him.
“Auuuggghhhh!” I screamed, when something jumped down from the roof and knocked me to the ground. I was back on my feet in a second, and pulling a gun—
On a giant pair of tits.
I stared at them for a moment, speechless. The tits had legs, encased in black fishnets and ending in red stilettos. They did not have anything else. They were just a fully realistic, hugely oversized, pair of boobs that had just pushed me back to the ground and were now trying to motorboat me.
Or maybe that was the other way around. I didn’t know, because it’s kind of hard to think straight when you’re about to be crushed by the Grand Tetons up there. Louis-Cesare pulled me out from under before my brain completely broke, and all of us ran into the vestibule of the building, with Elvis slamming the door behind us and calling for back up on a radio.
I didn’t know what he was saying, but a couple of mages hauled ass past us a moment later, one of them throwing a spell before the door was even fully open. I hugged the wall and stared at Louis-Cesare, who stared back. After a moment, I cleared my throat.
“Not at the moment,” I said fervently. “What the f—”
“Sorry about that,” Elvis said, as what sounded like a battle started up outside. “They get like that sometimes. Too much magic floating about.”
He waved a hand around his head.
I just looked at him.
“This way,” he said, after an awkward silence.
We went that way. And discovered that the vestibule let out into a smoky club with a split personality. Like, really split.
On the one hand, the club’s basic features were surprisingly upscale. There were discreet, red leather booths around dimly lit tables, a modernistic chandelier, and an extensive bar, where tuxedo clad waiters were getting drinks for the well-dressed clientele. It looked like a cross between an upscale gentleman’s club and an expensive restaurant.
On the other hand, there was the artwork, in big, golden frames stuck anywhere that had enough wall space. The cuties in here were as active as the ones outside, dancing, gyrating and posing inside their frames, until somebody expressed an interest. And then the “art” stepped out of