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"It sounds plausible enough tonight, but wait until tomorrow. Wait for the common sense of the morning." ~H.G. Wells - The Time Machine

New York, August 2007

I don't know how long it has been since my life has seen any form of excitement. Well, I guess it is more exciting than most people's lives. That's just part of the territory when you aren't ordinary. I learned very quickly that I wasn't like everyone else. My eyes were a shade of blue as clear as an untouched oasis; my hair jet black, but possessed a sheen like stars in the night sky. People stopped me often to ask me what product I used to get that effect, but I never do anything to my hair. I never used to anyway. Now I hide my hair so that I don't get stopped. Some would wear hats, but I had another method, a spell.

Yes, magic is real, and that isn't all. There is so much more that we'll get to later as it comes up because this day was one of the least ordinary days of my life. It started as usual, but it was later that night when the pace began to quicken. I decided to hit up the local all-ages club that night and meet up with an old friend of mine. I sat in the VIP area and scanned the crowd. There was the usual mix of people from their mid 30s to their teens, or at least they appeared that age.

I immediately knew that something was going to happen tonight when I spotted a boy with blue hair. I don't believe that I recognized him, but I also haven't been to the club in a while. He was eyeing up another young woman in a flowing white dress with a pulsing red pendant dangling around her neck. I recognized the pendant, it was a rare one of a kind amulet that used to belong to my friend that was meeting me here tonight. He gave it to a Shadowhunter family many years ago now, and I imagined that this girl was part of that family. Her hair was a dark black, and she seemed to have this boy in a trance. He moved on her like a dog following a trail as she lead the way to a door in the back of the club marked for employees only.

It didn't take me long to spot the accomplices of this girl. I trained myself a long time ago to see through the glamor of a Shadowhunter, and a pair of muscular young men were making their way through the crowd. The club goers parted like when Moses parted the red sea, but I was certain they didn't know why they did so. That was how a glamor worked, the Mundanes would feel the sudden urge to get out-of-the-way, but it would seem natural. They wouldn't be suspicious of anything. They stopped outside of the door and I watched the blonde pull out a shimmering blade. Excitement, my heart jumped slightly and my gaze intensified.

"Jeff!" my friend finally showed up, his dark black hair spiked slightly, and his cat-like eyes hidden behind a spell, "How long has it been? 100 years?"

"Magnus," I smiled, "I see you're doing well. It has definitely been a while, but maybe I'll hang around a while. Seems like New York is quite exciting."

Magnus followed my gaze to the two boys who then slipped into the back as well, "Shadowhunters. They don't come here often and it looked like they were going to cause trouble."

"Yes, a girl went back there with a blue haired boy. You probably know her," I paused and looked up to the ceiling, "What was their family name again? Herondale? Lightwood? The ones with the necklace that glows in the presence of demonic energy."

"It was a Herondale, but he gave it to his sister who married into the Lightwood family. Their descendants lead the Institute in New York. There must be trouble brewing if they are here."

"See Magnus," I flicked my wrist and summoned a bottle of Chardonnay in my right hand with two glasses in my left, "You have so much excitement in this town. I was in L.A. for a while you know, Malcolm Fade is the high Warlock there now, I never liked him."

"Yeah, yeah," Magnus was still fixated on the door, "Life is too short for hatred. I know that he is odd, but you know how we get as we age."

"Yes, but they should have asked me to become the High Warlock. I am clearly the better choice," I poured our glasses and passed him one, "You know me better than anyone Magnus, and you know that I am far more reliable than cooky old Fade."

"I know, I would have recommended you had they asked me," Magnus's gaze now drifted to another girl who stood near the door that the Shadowhunters slipped through, "Ugh, what is she doing here?"

"The redhead?" I tried to spot who he was watching.

"Yes, Clary Fairchild, I've done some work for her mother, and now she is heading for trouble."

The girl was making her way toward the door. Her hair flowed behind her like flames in the wind.

"Fairchild? That's another Shadowhunter family right? Does she have a new kind of glamor rune? She looks just like the Mundanes, I can't see a rune on her."

"No, she has no runes. I can't really go into the details now, but her mom has her reasons for what she did."

"Well then, do we need to intervene," I sent the Chardonnay away and placed the glass on the nearby table, "You know how nosey I am. I'm dying to find out what is going on."

"Probably not the best idea, you know how they get. They're very act now, ask questions later type of people. You could get us both locked up."

"Oh come on Magnus, excitement, adventures, don't you want to have some fun?"

"I don't really enjoy captivity," Magnus glanced at me, "I'm more of the free-flowing type."

"Alright, alright, but if that Clary girl turns up dead in the morning and the Clave comes asking questions I'm going to blame you."

"I think three Shadowhunters can protect one untrained one."

"Perhaps four Shadowhunters," my eyes spotted another boy, probably around fifteen. He had dark black hair, like one of the two earlier, but was much shorter and he was clearly of Asian descent, perhaps Pacific Islander. His muscles were well-defined in his dark black gear. He had a crossbow hanging across his back and a quiver of arrows at his side. He made his way towards the door, but didn't seem to notice the girl heading for it a short distance from him.

"I don't recognize that one. There aren't many Shadowhunters here in New York, and I have the pleasure of knowing all of them except for him."

"I think I'll see what this is all about," I flicked my wrist once again as a cloud of smoke swept me away then I appeared in front of the young man, "Why hello there Shadowhunter. What brings you to this fine establishment with your little friends?" I glanced towards the door.

"Move Warlock, we are here doing business of the Clave."

"Oooooo, the Clave," I mocked his rude tone, "Don't you think three Shadowhunters can take down one? Whatever is in there?"

"Yes they could, but I am part of the New York Institute now, and I have to go to help on the mission."

"Of course, of course, I understand how you Shadowhunters work, but I just wanted a word. You aren't from here, so tell me about you." The boy's face flushed. Meanwhile Clary managed to slip through the door behind us.

"I really don't have the time for this," he attempted to nudge past me as I slipped my phone in his hand.

"Then perhaps you will have the time later, and can spare a moment now to give me your number."

"Alright, you win, but you have to let me go after this," he quickly typed his number and passed it back to me before turning for the door.

"And your name?" I called after him.

"Mark, Mark Nighthunter."

"Alright Mr. Nighthunter," I typed the name into my contacts.

"Did you just get his number?" Magnus glared over my shoulder and I jumped, nearly smacking him in the face.

"Yes, I certainly did."

"You know that would only cause problems. Shadowhunters aren't allowed to mix with the Downworlders."

"People can change my dear Magnus," I slipped my phone back into my pocket, "Don't forget that I know you fancied a Shadowhunter once back in London."

"I may have had a crush, but I did not act upon it."

"I believe I remember a kiss."

"It was not mutual, and had a motif of making someone else angry."

"Sure, whatever makes you happy."