Isabelle Lightwood was good at many things. She was good at fighting, for one thing. She was good at looking amazing, even after a fight or when it was way too cold to wear anything cute. But she was very good at reading people, and she especially good at reading her brother.
And so she knew before anyone else that something was very wrong. Team Good (as Simon had started calling them) had been sitting for hours in Magnus's apartment, munching pizza and flipping through a large stack of books looking for anything that they could use to stop Sebastien without hurting Jace. Every once in a while someone would find something moderately helpful, and the group would stop to discuss options. Which usually turned into arguing. Overall, the afternoon had been long, tiring, and frustrating.
On top of it all, Izzy had started to notice a slight difference in the air. As usual, she had been catching her brother and his boyfriend staring at each other when the other wasn't looking. But there was a definite difference in the way that Alec looked at Magnus, something in the set of his mouth and the way that his eyes settled on his boyfriend's face.
There was definitely something hanging between them. Isabelle knew the signs and she knew when her brother was hiding something. His face when he bent back down over his book screamed pretend everything's normal, calling to mind a winter morning when she was nine years old and he was eleven. He had sprained his ankle badly the previous night after sneaking into the training room to practice, specifically against Hodge's orders. Jace and Isabelle had both urged him to admit that he'd broken the rules so that he could get some medical attention, but Alec had insisted on wearing three layers of socks instead. The next day during classes, he had sat perfectly still, trying not to move his injured foot. It was only when Isabelle forced him to walk over to her desk under the pretense of needing help with a translation that Hodge noticed his limp and forced the truth out of him. But his face during the class, the expression of stubbornly ignored pain and a thinly-veiled secret, was exactly mirrored now, nearly seven years later.
Isabelle knew that the issue, whatever it was, would go unaddressed by either of them until it boiled over into something much, much worse. Unless, that is, she forced them to act, as she had so many years ago.
She fished her phone out of her jacket pocket and typed a quick message.
Is it just me or do a and m need to talk about something?
She watched Simon, sitting cross-legged on the floor six feet away from her, glance at the screen. Reading her name on the screen, he looked at her quizzically. He bent his head to scan the message, glancing over at Magnus after he had finished. Of course, the warlock was staring at Alec with that weird look of "I've seen basically everything and it's all sad as fuck" that he got sometimes.
Simon's fingers flew across the keyboard of his phone.
definitely not just you. should we do something?
Isabelle smiled.
just follow my lead ok?
She clicked her phone off and stretched her arms.
"We ran out of pizza, like, an hour ago. I'm starving. Is there a chance we could order more food?"
Alec looked up from his book.
"Yeah, sure. We left the menus in the kitchen the last time we ordered, right? I'll go order."
He carefully set the book and notebook on the couch next to him and walked out of the main room.
Okay, halfway there. Isabelle turned to Magnus.
"What about Simon? Do you have anything for him to eat?" She glanced over at Simon, who quickly jumped in.
"Yeah, I'm really hungry. I, um, I haven't eaten in ages." Against his will, his eyes slid back to Izzy, specifically at the twin marks which were almost invisible unless you were looking for them.
Isabelle felt a flush rise in her neck and cheeks, which she desperately hoped went unnoticed.
"Of course, because I consider it a number-one priority to keep fresh blood on hand. Saint Magnus's Home for Wayward Shadowhunters is a full-service establishment." He paused, frowning thoughtfully. "Now that you mention it, actually. I might have something around somewhere. No promises on how long it's been in the fridge, though. Does blood have an expiration date?"
He got up and shuffled into the kitchen, muttering something about throwing away party leftovers.
"I don't even want to know why he has blood just lying around. Only in this apartment would that work." Simon muttered, but Isabelle was already springing into action.
Just as Magnus passed through the doors into the kitchen, from which Alec's voice was already floating, ordering the group's usual selection of greasy, cheesy, uniquely New York-style culinary staple, Isabelle slammed the door behind him and pressed her back against it, bracing herself with her feet. She motioned for Simon to pull one of the very tasteful black wooden chairs from the corner. On the other side of the door, Alec said very quickly "Yes that will be all thank you" and hung up.
"Isabelle, what are you doing?" He asked through the gap between the door and the wall.
"You guys obviously need to talk about something, and I'm not letting you out until you do." Izzy grabbed the chair from Simon and shoved it under the doorknob. "I'm going to go get coffee. Simon is coming with me. Text me when you've worked through whatever the hell is going on."
She pulled out her stele from her pocket and carefully drew a locking rune on the door's surface. Then, once it was safe, she removed the chair, pulled on her jacket, and walked toward the door, motioning for Simon to follow her.
As she stepped out the door, she called back:
"And Magnus? If you magic your way out of there, I will find out, and I will steal your cat and I will feed it to Simon and then I will wear its skin as a hat. And I would look amazing in that hat."
And she slammed the door behind her.
End Part I