"Who are you?" The incredulous, nearly awed question is barely a whisper, and the warlock doesn't wait for an answer, already turning away toward Jace and Clary as Alec looks up from the body of the Shadowhunter he just killed. Killed without a thought when the Shadowhunter rose up behind Magnus Bane, angel blade in hand. The Circle rune is on the dead man's neck—this was one of Valentine's flunkies. Alec was pretty sure he was Circle before he fired the arrow, but the only real thought in his head was to protect the warlock. Of course, that's perfectly logical since Magnus Bane is their best bet right now to find the Mortal Cup before Valentine gets his hands on it, but those were his words Magnus Bane just said!
His heart pounding in his ears, Alec swallows hard as the warlock says something to Clary about Valentine and how they're all in danger then vanishes through a Portal. He tightens his grip on his bow to keep from scratching at the burning itching on his right wrist. He imagines he can feel every letter of the three words written there in glittery extravagant cursive. Such a ubiquitous question it is, Alec long ago lost count of how many people spoke the words to him throughout his life.
When Jace first came to live with the Lightwoods, he said them to Alec, a belligerent expression on his ten year old face. Alec stammered something in return—he doesn't remember what—and Jace walked away without a word. Despite the certainty that Jace would have reacted very differently if it were so, Alec spent way too long hoping that Jace's words were some approximation of his faltering reply that day.
They became friends, brothers, and parabatai; and Alec gave up hoping for anything more. Then one day, Jace hurt his arm while they were training and Alec saw his words while drawing an iratze for him: "Hey, can you watch where you're going?" in a smooth looping hand. Much more understated than the gaudy words on Alec's wrist, yet still unmistakably feminine. Alec's lips twitched in amusement. It suited Jace that he would meet his soulmate by rudely running into them.
Isabelle smiled and shook her head at him when he complained that his soulmate was probably a silly girl who liked rainbows and ponies. "Oh, Alec. There are men who like glitter. You really need to get out more." Of course, she spent a lot of her time with the fey, and they pretty much all liked glitter and glitz. That was a terrifying thought. What if his soulmate was a fairie?
"Alec, come on!" Isabelle jerks her head toward the door when he finally looks at her. "Jace and Clary already left. What's with you?"
"Nothing." Turning his back on the spot where the warlock had vanished, Alec follows his sister outside.
Magnus sends a bookshelf crashing toward the intruder, who dodges it easily with Shadowhunter reflexes. More Circle members. Valentine found him again.
The Shadowhunter advances slowly, angel blade ready. "Your magic's strong, warlock. Much stronger than that horned weakling I killed this morning."
"Elias." Magnus' heart sinks. He sent the other warlock to find Tessa for help in protecting the lair. Clearly, that didn't work out, since the Circle is here, in the lair, but it is still a shock to hear of Elias' death.
"Lucky for us, he sold you out before I took his warlock mark," the Shadowhunter taunts, closing in on Magnus who backs away, his heart sinking further. Poor Elias. His betrayal hurts, but it did him no good so there is no point in dwelling on it. "Your cat's eyes will be a nice addition to my collection."
The sense of a presence behind Magnus alerts him just before an arrow strikes the man's thigh, and he follows it with a vicious blast of fire, throwing the Circle member over a table to collapse lifelessly on the floor. He only realizes later that he didn't question the certainty that the person behind him was friend, not foe.
"Well done," a captivating voice remarks.
"More like medium rare," Magnus quips, turning around. His eyes widen and his heart skips a beat—just as it did before in the club when he first saw this young man. With his dark hair and brilliant eyes, he could almost be Will but for his self-effacing manner. Magnus slowly lowers his hands, intensely aware of the tingling sensation on his right wrist where a glittery gold band covers those two words written in strong slanting black letters.
Often, Magnus wished that soulmarks had some sort of indication of the tone of voice in which the words will be spoken. Exactly six hundred and twenty three people have said "Well done" to him over the course of his long life, and many of those people spat the words at him in such a way that he was unutterably glad he hadn't spoken their words back to them. The rest of them, while pleasant, didn't make his heart race like Will Herondale and, more recently, Camille Belcourt did. In over three hundred years of life, he had yet to find that special someone dubbed 'soulmate' and he wondered idly now and then if he ever would.
"I'm Magnus." He takes a step toward the gorgeous, enticing Shadowhunter, a smile on his lips. "I don't think we've been formally introduced."
"Alec," the boy says, his face lighting up in a brilliant smile. Magnus wants to bask in that smile forever. "I–uh–we should…" Alec gestures behind him toward the door he had likely entered by. His stammering is adorable.
God, Magnus hopes this is his soulmate because he is already smitten. "Right." He bows slightly, waving Alec on ahead. "We should really join the party."