XXXX All characters belong to Cassandra Clare XXXX
The girl had the deep, burning eyes of a hellion.
He'd spotted her immediately when he'd walked through the doors. It would have been hard not to see her.
Her eyes—the color of periwinkles—were inflamed with surprise. Wide and wondering, they were darkly and thickly lashed. Her skin was tinged with gold, her lips a dusky rose, boldly curved. Her hair was pulled back and anchored across her crown, revealing a wide forehead and sculpted arched dark brows. Curls, large and small tumbled down, framing a heart-shaped face that was irresistibly piquant and utterly intriguing.
She was young…and so familiar.
"You must be Gabriel Lightwood."
Straightening, he crossed the length of the weapons room to stand right in front of her. He was silently amazed by how tall she was; almost as tall as Miss Gray. He held out his hand to her, and when she settled her in his grip, he bowed elegantly.
"And you are…?"
"Miss Cecily Herondale, sir. A pleasure to make your acquaintance, I'm sure," she said with a growing grin that he knew could mean nothing good.
"I should have known," Gabriel chocked out as he say that unholy fire light up her eyes.
She let out a laugh. Not a girlish giggle or a throaty chuckle, but a full on laugh.
It sounded wonderful to his ears.
"I'm thrilled that you could make it this morning, Mr. Lightwood. Charlotte said I could hope for no better instructor in all of the Clave," she said as she gave him that amused little smile that showed a dimple on her left cheek. "I take it you are surprised by my presence in the Institute."
Gabriel considered those words. Surprised? "I had heard from my brother that another Herondale had arrived at the Institute. I must say, though, I did not expect a younger sister."
A Herondale girl.
"I can assure you no one expected me."
She didn't seem phased by the possibility that she might have been unwelcomed. Instead, she took a step back and turned her attention to the weapons lining the wall. "Charlotte's summons did not explain my role in your arrival."
"Truly? I thought it would be very plain," she began, "but if you need clarification, it's my desire to learn how to fight."
Gabriel laughed. He couldn't help it.
"By the Angel! Does your brother know what you are about?" He asked as he eyed her. She didn't look amused any longer yet he couldn't help grinning at her.
"William has other issues to handle, as I understand. This whole Magister thing and the whole business about these clockwork creatures I've been hearing about. I'm sure you understand that he can't focus on my education while cavorting around the world."
"And I have nothing else to do?" the hairs on his arm stood at their end. He didn't like being told his role was far less than Herondale's.
"Well, now you do, you have me."
He wasn't sure how that was any better.
By the looks of her, she could be a handful. It wasn't just those spitfire eyes. It was the way she walked around the room, each step direct and forward, and wholly self-assured.
He crossed his arms over his chest, feeling as if someone had ridden rough shod over him without so much as a by-your-leave. "Has the Clave sanctioned this plan of yours?"
"I have Charlotte's approval. Is that not enough?"
"How old are you?"
She turned those eyes on him, beautiful violet. "Fifteen. How old are you?"
The little minx thought she could spar with him with her words. "An adult."
"Horrible burden, that."
And now she was making fun of him. He had so many other things that he could have been doing that didn't involve her. His father needed him and even Gideon could have used his skill. He'd rather spend the next month keeping company with the Silent Brothers than helping William Herondale's sister.
Controlling himself, Gabriel lifted an arrogant brow. "I will not be lax and I will not stand for crying."
"You'll find I don't shed tears easily, Mr. Lightwood," she stated as she walked back towards him. "Shall we begin?"
"I can't imagine what you'll get done in your ski—" Before he could finish, the young lady pulled back her arm and landed a surprisingly effective punch squarely on his jaw. He staggered back, one hand on his jaw, eyes wide with shock.
"I should tell you, Mr. Lightwood, that my father taught me a thing or two about fighting."
X
"Your brother is a bane to London and nuisance to the Clave. He's irresponsible and thoughtless. A drunk—"
"I have big shoes to fill," Cecily chuckled.
X
"We can do this by ourselves," Cecily whispered to Gabriel as they watched an Iblis demon stalk after a little boys.
"He may not be the brightest creature, but he's strong."
"You've taught me well. I can do this."
"You and what army?"
"The Egyptians built the pyramids without modern technology. I repeat, I can do this. Have a little faith in me, Gabriel."
"Fine, let me find you twenty thousand Hebrews and then we'll see how far you go."
X
As Cecily found out, Gabriel Lightwood had a chip on his shoulder. He rather despised Will and the very mention of the name made his hair stand on end. Yet to her…
He was stunningly impressive, towering half a head taller than the men around him, none of whom were short. Elegantly attired in a black evening coat, pristine white shirt and cravat, and black trousers, everything about him from the breadth of his shoulders to the length of his long legs seemed in perfect proportion to his height
His hair was thick, brown, falling in fashionable disarray about his head, shading his broad brow, brushing his collar. Candlelight reflected from lighter strands, turning the whole into a tawny mane.
He was rather…beautiful.
"Ugly little creature, isn't he? All green eyes and bad tempter," her brother muttered next to her. "Sometimes I wish I could squash him like the little bug that he is."
Cecily chuckled. "Jealousy does not become you, Will."
"Jealous? Of him?" He sounded outraged. "I find him repulsive."
Cecily sighed wistfully. "I find him quite wonderful."
Next to her, Will nearly jumped out of his skin. "Blasphemy!"
"Oh, pish posh. He's incredibly smart, I'll have you know. And he's a fantastic teacher."
The look her brother gave her, so horribly repulsed, wasn't as amusing as Cecily had hoped. "My God, had I known it would have come to this, I would have taught you myself."
"All I've done is call him intelligent, Will," she pointed out.
In another corner of the room, cheers erupted as Henry brought his heir to be introduced to the members of the London Clave. Although Will smiled indulgingly, he didn't move to greet the newest Bramwell.
"You never give anyone praise, Cecily. And here you are talking about Gabriel Lightwood like—like—"
"Like you care for him," Tessa cut in. She had appeared behind them with little noise, her eyes smiling. Her closeness to Will, his change in stance to draw Tessa near, spoke wonders about their relationship.
It was a blessing, Cecily thought, that she now saw Tessa as a force behind Will instead of roadblock.
Will looked ready to faint. "You're a Herondale, Cecily. Herondale. Don't make me regret you."
"I do not care for—"
"Who?"
Cecily composed herself, looking over her shoulder at Gabriel. "I don't care for crepes. I despite them."
A smile broke through Gabriel's unyielding façade. "Such strong feelings for pancakes."
"You should see how I feel about pudding," she mumbled.
Gabriel kept on smiling at her, even when Will purposefully stepped between the two of them. "You, Lightwood, have you nothing else you c—"
"Oh, look, Magnus!" Tessa said as she linked her arm through Will's and pulled him to her side. "I've been meaning to discuss something with him. You'll accompany, won't you?"
Will looked stumped between following her or staying to defend Cecily from Gabriel. "I've got my eyes on you, Lightwood. Don't you even think about—"
"Come along, William. Before Magnus disappears." She dragged him away as Cecily watched, for the first time embarrassed about her brother's antics.
"Who knew all if took was one step closer to you for your brother's feathers to get all ruffled?" Gabriel chuckled.
"You know, Tessa told me about this disagreement of yours. Am I your way of getting revenge on my brother?"
Gabriel looked down at her. He was one of the few men that she knew that actually looked down instead of up at her. And then he did something wholly unexpected.
He took her hand in his and anchored it on his sleeve. He covered her hand with his, a warm grip that sent a thrill through her. "Am I your way of getting revenge on your brother?"
Cecily rolled her eyes. "Gabriel, I can think of a million little things I can do to get revenge on my brother without having to bring you into it."
"Yet, I'm still your first choice of fighting partner for the last two years," he pointed out.
"Our styles suit, I should say," she sighed. "And maybe I haven't learned everything you have to teach just yet."
He shook his head with a smile and Cecily had to hold back the urge to tighten her hand around his.
As a servant passed around carrying a tray filled with champagne flutes, Cecily reached out for one only to have it plucked from her fingers. "I don't think so," Gabriel said as he sipped the champagne.
"I will be an adult in seven months, Gabriel."
"Until then, I'm charged with your welfare. I would prefer if people didn't think I turned the Herondale girl into a drunk."
X
"What's this?"
Cecily looked down at the glass box lined with white silk that had been placed by her usual seat at the breakfast table. As it was habit, only Charlotte, Gabriel and herself were there at this hour.
"Your birthday present." Gabriel didn't glance up from his newssheet and Charlotte was engrossed in Institute business.
Cecily glanced at Gabriel. "What is it?"
"Open it."
She sat down with a thump and a squeal and carefully lifted the glass lid. She pulled silk away, a smile on her face. "Good God!"
It was a beautiful necklace, a chocker made of white gold, diamonds and sapphires. It wasn't necessarily delicate, like fashion dictated for young ladies, yet Cecily had never been delicate or prone to following the dictates of others.
It was a bold piece, likely worth a small fortune.
"Do you like it?"
Cecily looked up at the young man sitting across from her. He had put down his newssheet and he was looking at her coolly.
She could see straight through that removed façade. Gabriel's eyes were windows to his thoughts and she knew that he had gone to incredible lengths to find this for her.
"It's lovely. I adore it."
Gabriel's expression didn't change, but his gaze softened. "I'm glad you like it."
Cecily pulled the necklace from the box and held it up for a closer inspection. She hid her little squeal of joy when she caught sight of her initials engraved on the clasp, right by a flying heron and a ring of fire.
"May I wear it tonight?"
To her birthday party. She'd be eighteen tonight. An adult. Gree to travel between Institutes. No longer his charge.
"You'll look very pretty. They match your eyes," Gabriel said as he looked down at the toast on his plate. He looked flushed.
Cecily put the piece down, stood up and walked around the table to his side. Gabriel froze when she brushed her lips over his cheek. "Thank you."
When she sat down again, Charlotte glanced up. She had a slight smile on her face. "Well, how can the rest of us ever match that?"
X
Henry nudged Charlotte. "They're home."
She lifted her head from her pillow, frowning at the shouting outside their door. "I wonder what she did now."
"He doesn't sound very pleased."
"You know how he gets when she goes off alone," Charlotte grumbled as she sat up and reached for her robe.
"Where are you going?"
"Some one has to tell them that if they wake up the baby, they'll have to stay with him the rest of the night," she told Henry.
"That didn't help last time, Charlotte."
"No, but perhaps it will give them long enough pause to get them each to their corner. Gabriel's much easier to handle once Cecily settles down."
"That makes no sense to me."
"Truly? I makes perfect sense to me."
X
"Gabriel?"
He looked up from the book he was reading. "Why are you out of bed? And barefoot?"
"I can't fall asleep."
He shifted sideways, making space for her on the chaise. Cecily sat down, pulling her knees up to her chin. "What are you reading?"
"Romeo and Juliet."
"I hate that play," she grumbled.
"Really?" he seemed surprised.
"Of course. Suicide seems like the coward's way…" She trailed off and he bit his lip. "I didn't think. I'm sorry."
"It's alright," he said as he closed the book and set it aside. He sat back, his arms spread over the back of the chaise.
"Do you look like her?" Cecily whispered.
"A little. I have her eyes, I'm told."
Cecily smiled at him weakly. "She must have been beautiful."
"I can't remember her very well."
"That's alright. Just treasure what ever you have left."
He looked at her for one moment. She didn't-couldn't-understand that look in his eyes. "You are wise, Herondale. How would you like to read Taming of the Shrew?"
"What are you trying to say about me?"
X
The demon struck.
The wall rocked, shuddered, and caved in.
Gabriel gasped, eyes going wide, blind with pain.
Her gaze on his face, Cecily lost her breath.
She glanced down and saw a blood-tipped horn protruding through Gabriel's coat. "Oh, no."
With a hideous snort, the demon yanked and pulled back.
Gabriel's eyes closed. He started to slump.
"No!" Pushing the debris off of them, Cecily grabbed the back of his jacket, yanking desperately. "Gabriel! Gabriel! Come on! Don't you dare to stop now!"
With an horrendous effort, he gathered himself. His muscles were quivering as he managed to stand up.
Hauling, tugging, Cecily looked at Cyril, standing with eyes wide and mouth open. "Help me!"
Cyril came rushing up, climbing over the debris on Gabriel's other side, grabbed and hauled, too.
"Kill the demon," Gabriel rasped.
"I don't give a damn about the demon," she told him. "Please, Gabriel, don't stop walking."
He was rapidly losing strength. Even with Cyril's help, he'd only managed to climb the second rung of the carriage before he sagged and tipped over. She flung her arms around him.
His coat gapped and she finally saw the jagged wound in his right side. "Oh, God."
Blood was pouring from the gaping tear. Falling to her knees, she slapped her hands over the gash, pressed hard. One glance at his face, at his pinched eyelids, at the white lines bracketing his mouth, told her he was still conscious.
"Drive, Cyril!"
She focused on Gabriel, on the blood welling between her fingers. Her palms side by side covered the wound. She needed material to staunch the flow.
With no shawl, and no skirts, she had to grab the loose side of his jacket and press it down. She leaned on the dressing and the bleeding slowed.
She glanced at his face. Staring at the grim line of his lips, she felt a chill touch her soul.
He might die.
"How dare you risk your life?" Even to her ears, her tone bordered on hysterical. "How could you risk your life—your life, you bloody idiot!" She leaned harder on the pad, dragged in another breath.
He coughed weakly, shifted his head.
Beneath her hands, the coat was soaked in blood. The black hid the blood, but she could feel the heat of it and the stickiness. "Don't die. Please, Gabriel."
His lips twisted, but his eyes remained closed. "But if I die"—his words were a whisper—"you can drink as much champagne as you want. No one is going to make you memorize ancient ruins. You'll be free."
"Free?" Then his earlier words registered. "If you die? I told you—don't you dare! I won't let you—I forbid you to." As the words left her mouth, half hysterical, all emotion, she realized they were the literal truth. "Who will I annoy if you die?"
He softly snorted, apparently unimpressed by—or not registering—her panic.
"Some other poor sod."
The words cut. "You are the only poor sod I care about." Her waspish response came on a rush of rising fear. At least the bleeding had slowed, growing sluggish, but in her estimation he had lost far too much blood. Drawing in a breath, holding it, clinging to her sanity and her strength, she leaned forward and brushed her lips across his. "Hold on to me, Gabe, keep hold of me—never let me go."
Then Will, Henry, Gideon, and all the rest were there, banging open the carriage door, sweeping around them, taking charge and taking over, gently easing her aside.
It was Will who closed his big hands about her shoulders and raised her, then drew her away. "Let them have him."
She swallowed, nodded, but when Will handed her over to Sophie, who gently suggested she come back into the Institute, she refused with a curt shake of her head. "I'll stay with him."
She wasn't going to let him out of her sight.
Brother Clopas had brought supplies to bandage the wound before they risked lifting him. He and Charlotte worked swiftly, cutting away his clothes, then cleaning the wound.
"Are you hurt?" Will asked. He was staring at all the blood covering her.
"I'm fine."
"No, Cecily, you're not," he whispered softly to her. "Come on. Please. You know they'll take very good care of him."
"I can't leave him."
"You won't go far, I promise. We'll wash the blood off of you and get you back to his side."
Her brother's arms were around her, pulling her up the front steps, leading her back to her bedroom. Bridget was there to take over, and Cecily barely registered her bath and putting on clean clothes.
Will was waiting for her outside her bedroom when she emerged. "You'll need to eat something."
Cecily shook her head. "Just get me to Gabriel."
He took her to the infirmary, where Gabriel was still surrounded by Silent Brothers and Charlotte. Cecily moved to stand at the foot of the bed, her gaze locked on his face. She lost track of how long they worked on him. She was aware of Gideon by her shoulder, and then his hand on hers. Eventually, even he left.
She'd never felt so frozen, so full of dread.
Gabriel lay on his back beneath the covers, stretched out straight, his arms by his sides. His face was pale, his lips were a thin line, showing no animation at all.
His eyes were closed, his long lashes black crescents stark against the white parchment of his skin. His hair had been pushed back from his forehead.
"He's strong. He'll fight to live," Brother Clopas said.
The relief nearly brought her to her knees.
Instead, she heaved a straight-backed chair to the bed. She sat, leaned her elbows on the covers, took one of his hands—so cold and lifeless—in hers, cradled it between her palms.
Willed him to live.
He had to live.
"Gabriel?" She squeezed his hand tighter. "Did you know I fell in love you that very first day? When you walked into the training room I thought you looked like a hero. My hero. It's silly, but I had every intention of staying as long with you as I could. I need you to wake up, please. You see, I'm going to make you marry me and I'm going to lead you by the nose for the rest of your days. It's the least I can do to repay you for this—for the shock to my nerves. I'll have you know I'd decided to lead you in a merry chase all through London and you'll be gray within two years."
She rambled on, paying scant attention to her words, simply letting them and all the images she'd dreamed of come tumbling out, painting a vibrant, fanciful, yet accurate word picture of her hopes.
Her vision of their life together.
"You Herondales. You dream big."
Her eyes snapped up to his face. His eyes were closed, but his lips were moving.
"So you know now that you absolutely can't die now." Tears slid down her face.
"Herondales don't cry," he whispered.
"I do for you," she said. "You need to get better, Gabriel. I won't be lax with you."
The last of his strength was gone and his eyes closed. But this time he fell asleep with a smile.
X
His senses swam back to him, returned slowly.
He thought he was alone, lying cold, agony-filled, and silent in the bed, but that something held him to the world. Someone anchored him.
Cecily.
He opened his senses.
She was sitting by his bedside, but she had crossed her arms on the covers and laid her head down. One slim hand was nestled in his palm. Her hair was spread fanlike, a black veil flung across the covers.
She was sleeping.
He couldn't help smiling at her, no matter how much it hurt him.
His love for her was a central part of him, the strongest, most brilliant, and best part of him.
The memories came rushing back. Her words, her intentions.
She loved him back.
She moved slightly, raising her head. For a moment, she looked around then glanced at him and smiled.
"You're awake!" She squealed.
"I've been awake for some time, but didn't want to wake you."
His voice was little more than a whisper.
"You have to rest, Gabriel. You should do it now. I intend to do you great bodily harm as soon as you can handle it, you stupid man!"
He swallowed; eyes closed, he shifted his head in what she took to be a nod. "Of course you will. It's not like you can leave broken enough alone."
"I've always praised your intelligence, Gabriel, and then you go and do something as foolish as risking your life like this! You didn't need to put yourself in danger to save me."
"Yes, I did." The words were firmer, bitten off through clenched teeth. "You can't be so damned foolish as to think I wouldn't—after protecting you through the last four years, seeing you safely all the way, watching over you all this time, what else was I going to do? Oh, yes! After I expended so much effort keeping you safe all these years, I was suddenly going to stand by and let you be gored by some mangy demon with half a brain." He snorted, soft, low. Weakly. "You really thought I'd let you get injured? You think I would stand back and let you be harmed? Not very rational, is it?"
"Not at all rational, Mr. Lightwood," she agreed with him. "I'm sorry I worried you."
"I look forward to many years of you worrying me," he whispered.
Her eyes widened. She blushed and ducked her head. "Do you want me to find Brother Clopas? Do you need another iratze?"
"I need to stay close and hold my hand. You told me I could. You said I could hold on to you, keep hold of you."
That lovely blush spread. "You remember that?"
"You also said you were going to marry me. Did you mean it? About a future with me?"
"You said I dream big."
"That's fine by me," he said as he readjusted. "We should plan for children. At least three—more, if you're agreeable. We'll have to have two boys, of course—Gideon wants nephews. But after…as many girls as you like…as long as they look like you. Or Will—I suppose he's handsome in a girlish way."
Cecily let out a breath of laughter. "That would be lovely."
"Just don't tell him I said so. We'll never hear the end of it and Gideon would have my head to boot."
"I'll never tell."
His words were starting to slur again and Brother Clopas' words rang in her head. "Go to sleep and get well, but before you do, I need to tell you this. I love you. I will until the end of my days."
"I wish I had the strength to get up and hug you and kiss you," he lifted her hand to his lips. "I've never even kissed you."
"I kissed you, in the carriage, but…" She sat up, moving from the chair to the bed. Her hands cupped his face; they were warm.
Her lips touched his, then settled in the most chaste kiss of his life. He felt her lips quiver under his, sensed her innocence in his bones. Despite her brazenness and relentless forwardness, she was still just a girl.
She lifted her head yet still didn't draw back. Their gazes met, their breaths mingled…
She bent her head again.
Her lips met his this time, soft, generous, hesitant. The urge to devour was strong but he reined it in, took only what she innocently offered, and returned no more than that. An exchange-a promise.
"You'll have plenty time to hug me and kiss me in the future, Gabriel. Just get better," she whispered against his lips.
"Anything for you, Cecily. Anything."
X
The pain of the stele was sharp but quick.
Cecily didn't blink. She didn't look away from Gabriel, who seemed equally determined not to look away from her.
His hand was steady, just as hers had been, as he dragged the stele across her skin.
Love and commitment.
Carved right above her heart. The exchange and the eternal promise.
When he was done, he pulled her tight into his arms. She was glad that he did, because after years of being around him, he still made her knees weak.
He kissed her, the kind of kiss only Gabriel could manage. Sweet, gentle, yet still full of heat that left her feeling as if she were floating amongst clouds. She could have kissed him forever if Gideon hadn't cleared his throat.
"Must say, I never did see this coming," he laughed as he shook his brother's hand and then kissed her cheek. "Out of all the women in world, Gabe, you just had to fall for a Herondale girl."
Cecily laughed as she scanned the small crowd. When her eyes locked with a pair that was identical to hers, she smiled and waved. Those eyes had changed, she thought with some reserve, they weren't pained anymore yet they were serious and full of something she would never understand.
Gabriel's hand at the small of her back drew her attention back. Looking up at him, at his smile, at the obvious pride of her groom, she forgot about the events of the last few years and contented herself with being alive and with the man she loved.
Gabriel was looking at her the same way she looked at him. "Now she's a Lightwood girl. The rivalry ends here. Obviously I won."
With a grin, Cecily petted his arm. "We'll find you other things for you to worry about, Mr. Lightwood. I have a talent for getting into trouble. Think of this as your next great adventure."
"Yes? And where will that lead us?"
"I don't know yet, but I do believe no journey should ever begin without champagne."
X
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