Magnus woke as he had most mornings for the past ten years, to the smell of freshly-brewed coffee. He turned over in bed, wrapping the emerald green sheets around him, and stretched out his aching arms as he breathed in the rich, heady scent of caffeinated goodness. Last night had been a late one, he'd spent all of the evening and a good portion of the very early morning dealing with Downworlder drama. One of the newly-turned vampires from the New York clan had had the bright idea of conjuring the Greater Demon Murmus to give him what he'd called 'Rock God music skills'. Apparently, no one had pointed out to the vampire that he was now immortal and had plenty of time to master the guitar. Magnus blamed the impatience of millennials and to a lesser extent, Anne Rice.
After the demon had turned the vampire into a slushy pile of blood and other less-PG13 pieces it made a break for the nearby financial district. Luckily, Magnus had been able to portal to the summoning site and draw the demon back into the void before any mundanes had been killed or injured. Hunting demons was usually the job of Shadowhunters, but a demon summoning taking place on clan territory could mean wider fines or punishments for the rest of the New York group, so the vamps had turned to him. Sending the demon back to whichever hellish dimension it had come from, moderating the memories of the few mundanes who had actually seen it's slithery form and cleaning up the summoning site had taken Magnus much longer than he'd wanted and his whole body still ached from the effort. Still, being the High Warlock of Brooklyn meant he had a duty to help Downworlders in need, and the vampires had paid him an inordinately large sum for his assistance.
He paused for a moment, watching as a few dust motes danced lazily in the light streaming through the large window in his bedroom, then clapped his hands energetically and sprang out of bed. As he left the room he caught sight of himself in the mirror by the door. He eyed himself critically, his normally perfect cloud of jet black hair was tilting precariously to one side and glitter from last night's dramatic eye look was smudged along the hollows of his cheeks. Magnus stared at his reflection. At least he'd been conscious enough to change out of his demon slime-covered clothes before he threw himself into bed earlier that morning, which was something of an achievement. Magnus believed in investing in quality pyjamas and his midnight blue, tiger print silk set was particularly fetching, even if he did say so himself.
He made his way into the apartment's large, open plan kitchen-living room to find the source of the coffee, his girlfriend of ten years Emmeline Blackhallow, but she was… not there. Spinning on his heels he strode down the hall to the bathroom and rapped gently on the wooden door with his knuckles. A weak groan from within confirmed his suspicions. After a few moments, the door opened to reveal his pretty, but currently very pale girlfriend. Her auburn hair, which usually lay fashionably in a long wavy bob just below her shoulders was swept into a messy ponytail and she was wearing a grey t-shirt with the slogan 'Mermaids do it better' across the front, teamed with a pair of his pink, unicorn-patterned pyjama pants.
"Oh," he said softly, worry blooming across his face. He reached over to tuck a tendril of escaped hair behind her ear "Not again". She rolled her grey eyes at him and sighed, leaning against the door frame.
"I know, I slept fine last night and then I was fine this morning and then I was making coffee, and the smell and I just..." She trailed off helplessly.
Magnus frowned with concern. Every day for the past week he'd woken to find Em either throwing up or lying on the couch covered in a multitude of brightly coloured blankets. As a warlock, Magnus didn't suffer from the colds and viruses that often plagued mortals. Something more serious like Demon Pox could cause a problem, but he'd been lucky enough to avoid that one so far. Of course, as a Shadowhunter Em shouldn't be suffering either, but she refused to use an Iratze on herself unless it was absolutely necessary. When he'd asked why, she'd told him sternly that she had chosen not to take part in official Shadowhunter business since moving to Brooklyn, so it would be hypocritical to use a healing rune now to fix a cold. Her sense of moral obligation was just one of the many things he loved about Em, but of course that didn't stop Magnus from worrying about her.
"Are you sure I can't just..." he waved his hands expressively, blue sparks lighting up his fingertips.
"No" Em shook her head and then grimaced at the movement. "Healing takes a lot of energy and I don't want you wasting your magic on something as trivial as the flu. Anyway, I've booked a Doctor's appointment at the clinic near the bar, I'm going tonight on my break."
Magnus shook his head, his eyes serious. "First", he said, holding up a finger "there is nothing trivial about you being unwell, second -" he ticked it off on his hand, "there's no way you're going to work like that, I'll cancel my party and take you to your appointment".
"No way" Em shook her head back at him and then mentally kicked herself as another jolt of pain rocketed through her temple. "I'll be fine by this evening and you've been planning this party for ages, it's important for Downworlder relations" she intoned, mimicking the important voice he'd used when describing it to Maia, the head of the New York werewolf pack.
She raised a hand to her forehead as if to rub away the headache that was rapidly developing. Magnus looked at her carefully before stepping forward and pulling her gently into his arms, smiling as she burrowed into his chest.
"I knew I'd regret taking you to that meeting". He leant backwards and twirled his right hand. Amidst a flurry of blue sparks, a large mug appeared. "Warm ginger ale with honey and lemon," he said offering it to Em. "It's an old mundane remedy, it'll help settle your stomach".
Em grabbed the mug gratefully and took a sip. "You know that counts as magic," She raised an eyebrow at him.
. . .
Em spent the rest of the day on the couch watching Magnus prepare for his party. In between refilling her mug and fetching her more blankets he'd explained rather excitedly that the theme for tonight's soiree was 'Enchanted Garden'. She watched in fascination as he transformed their trendy loft apartment into a woodland glade, replacing the tasteful, eclectic decor with soft green moss, curtains of intricately braided branches and strings of fairy lights. She had started to protest when he conjured a large, flower-shaped fondue pot filled with blood for the vampires, but given up when he'd assured her that the blood had been donated willingly and no mundanes had been harmed in the process. Even after almost a decade of living with Magnus she still found some of the Downworlders' practises a little odd. Of course, she'd had plenty of contact with Downworlders when she'd lived in London, but it was more of a business arrangement than a social one.
Em's parents had never been very involved with the rest of the Shadowhunter community. They'd trained her in combat, taught her the laws of the Clave and allowed her to get her permanent marks, but they'd never interacted with the local Institute or been sent into the field. After they died in an accident when Em was twelve she had been packed off to live with her closest living relative in London. It was a completely different life for her, while her new guardian also maintained a distance from the Shadowhunters at the local Institute, she spent her evenings aiding Downworlders in need.
This was how Em had met Magnus. When she was eighteen he came to them for help after running into trouble with a nest of Ravener demons while trying to recover one of the lost magic texts. Em had helped him clear the nest and find the text. After they had returned home safely, he'd asked her to come back to Brooklyn with him. Some time after, Magnus confessed to her that he'd looked over at her in the midst of battle, fighting off demons with her hair billowing out like a halo around her head, and instantly fallen in love. After spending her childhood in relative seclusion Em was excited at the idea of having an adventure, and if a handsome, kind and incredibly stylish warlock asked her to join him on one, who was she to say no?
At first, they had travelled a lot, Paris, Rome, Russia, Egypt, Istanbul, Japan, Fiji and some exotic island off the coast of Australia which was owned by a warlock friend and not on any map Em had ever seen. Magnus had talked profusely about the charms of Peru and vaguely about how he wasn't allowed to go back there, she suspected he had done something terrible. But after spending long months enjoying each location they'd finally returned to Brooklyn and settled into domestic bliss, or their version of it anyway.
It wasn't the usual nine to five, but as the High Warlock of Brooklyn Magnus had a steady trickle of trade from mundanes, Downworlders and very occasionally the Shadowhunters at the New York Institute. His clients kept irregular hours and he often found himself working during the evening, so to keep herself busy Em had taken a couple of night shifts at a local bar where Downworlders drank. Magnus owned the apartment outright so neither of them really needed the money, but they both felt more settled in some form of employment.
Anyway, thanks to years of living with her guardian in London Em had grown up with a strong inclination to help people. At the bar, she could keep an eye on the clientele and send anyone with a serious problem to Magnus. She even helped him with his work occasionally, when he needed a Shadowhunter, and her previous experience with Downworlders made her a useful guest at the meetings Magnus attended with the other New York Downworld representatives. A lot of them still held a deep-rooted mistrust of Shadowhunters so it took them a while to get used to her, but the fact that Magnus so obviously trusted her went a long way.
Somehow, between all of these obligations, they'd fallen into a comfortable pattern of unpredictability and excitement. It wasn't a particularly normal life but Em loved it. The random missions, lazy weekend brunches and spontaneous trips to romantic foreign cities, all while enjoying each other and their time together.
Time was a big factor in their relationship and in the first few years, they had had the discussion. Repeatedly. They'd talked at length about how young Em was, how long Magnus had lived and how she would grow older while he maintained the appearance of a man in his early twenties. He'd asked her earnestly on several occasions if she truly understood everything she was giving up for him, having a family and someone to grow old with. Em had always pictured herself with children and a husband, in some far off 'in the very distant future' kind of way, but if she had to choose between a vague idea of what her life could be and this wonderful, glittering warlock she would make the same choice every time. So, whenever he asked, she replied that she understood what he meant, but she didn't think of it so much as giving anything up, as she did that she was gaining Magnus.
Usually, she'd be helping him host tonight's party, greeting guests and socialising with her boyfriend as she had done for the past few years, but the bar was short-staffed and it was Karaoke night.
Em stood up slowly from the sofa and then smiled, satisfied that she'd managed to get to her feet without a hint of nausea. The ginger-honey concoction Magnus had been plying her with all afternoon had certainly done the trick. She walked over to the kitchen island, which now resembled a large tree stump, where Magnus was currently conjuring colourful drinks in dainty bluebell-shaped glasses and put her arms around his waist. He turned to face her and placed his hands on her shoulders, pausing what he was doing to brush his lips against her forehead.
"Feeling better?" He asked hopefully, rubbing tiny circles into the base of her neck with the soft pads of his thumbs.
"Much better" Em leaned into his chest and inhaling the faint citrus scent of his aftershave. "I need to leave for work soon so I'm going to get dressed, do you need any help getting ready for your party?".
"No," Magnus stepped back, releasing her and swung his arms wide to indicate the decorations with a flourish, "it's quite fabulous already." He glanced down at his pyjama, bemused "My guests will start arriving soon though, I should dress".
He snapped his fingers and a blue flame shot out, engulfing him for a second before extinguishing in a puff of glittering smoke. When it cleared he was standing in an exquisitely tailored pair of black velvet suit pants with a matching jacket, buttoned up to reveal only a flash of smooth golden skin on his chest. A variety of chains and pendants draped from his neck and the smudged glitter and tilting hairdo from this morning had resumed their rightful places. He winked at her playfully and bowed. Em stepped back, admiring his appearance for a moment before heading to the bedroom to get dressed into her black bartender's uniform, the normal way.
"Show off!" she yelled over her shoulder as she retreated.
. . .
The Doctor's surgery was only a couple of blocks from the bar on one of the slightly shabbier sides of town. Em usually did anything to avoid going, the sterile white waiting room, antiseptic smell and weirdly basic healthcare posters (smoking is bad for you!), made her stomach turn, but she'd had this damn flu for over a week now and spending half the day throwing up or sleeping was getting old fast. Luckily this surgery ran a 24-hour service and the 3 am slot was dead. If the appointment went quickly she'd have enough time to help close up the bar and then head home to watch the last party guests on their way out.
When she'd left Magnus he'd been putting the finishing touches to his decorations, enchanting some of the fairy lights to float around the balcony. He'd asked again if she was sure she wanted to go to work and when she'd assured him that yes, she really did, given her a quick kiss goodbye before turning his attention back to his task, waving her off with blue sparkling fingers.
Em sighed, thinking for the hundredth time that she'd much rather be at the party with her beautiful warlock than spending the early hours of the morning here. Thankfully she was only in the waiting room for a few minutes before the receptionist, a friendly lady in her mid-fifties who looked like she'd rather be in bed asleep, called her through. Em didn't blame her, it was far too early to be at work.
As she entered the first office to the right of the waiting area the Doctor stood up from behind his desk to greet her. He was a svelte man in his forties with a dark spray tan, suspiciously smooth forehead and blindingly white teeth, which he flashed at her as he smiled. She had a fleeting impression that he may only be here temporarily pulling a few extra night shifts and that his normal day job probably involved prescribing Xanax to impeccably-dressed women in a swanky surgery on the Upper East Side.
"So Miss Blackhallow", he asked once Em had taken a seat in the hard plastic chair opposite his desk "what can I do for you?". She explained the symptoms of her illness in detail while he watched her patiently with a sympathetic expression, hands clasped before him on the desk. When she had finished he nodded a few times and then cleared his throat. "I think we should do a quick blood test, just to be thorough, and then we'll get you on some antibiotics". He turned to his computer and clicked open a schedule, "It's quiet tonight so if you're happy to wait we can get the results processed right now?". Em weighed up her options. It would be easier to get it sorted while she was here, the bar had been winding down anyway when she'd left and they could always close up without her.
"Ok," she nodded.
She sat patiently while the Doctor called a nurse in to take a blood sample. The nurse, a young Filipino man not much older than Em, raised his eyebrows when she pulled up her sleeve for the needle, but said nothing. Em hadn't bothered to hide her marks over the last few years. Mundanes usually just assumed they were tattoos and that maybe she was part of some sort of exciting gang. She occasionally got an odd glance when she was in public and Magnus had offered to give her a permanent glamour for her skin but she didn't see the point. Most of the time she was standing in the company of a ridiculously attractive, glittery warlock with outrageous clothes. Who was going to notice a couple of tattoos next to that?
After the nurse had finished taking the sample she was sent back outside to wait for her results. She spent half an hour scrolling through her phone, checking out photos from the party which were steadily making their way onto social media, before being called back into the Doctor's office.
"Miss Blackhallow", he gestured to the plastic chair, "please sit down". Em who had been planning to anyway, sat. "I've got your test results back," he glanced down at the paper in front of him "you don't have the flu".
"I don't?" Em's brow crinkled. He'd said it in a way that made her think it must be a good thing. Maybe it was just a cold instead, one where he could prescribe medicine to get rid of it quickly. Or something as simple as food poisoning, that egg dish Magnus had cooked last weekend had tasted a little odd. Her spirits lifted a little.
"No." He looked up from the paper, "In fact, it's good news".
Em felt a weight lift off her chest.
He flashed her another smile with his too-white teeth, "Congratulations Miss Blackhallow," he grinned, "you're expecting".
A/N - It's my first time writing fiction so any reviews or comments are massively appreciated! Next chapter coming up soon...