Silver and Gold

Chapter 1

At first glance, Alexander Gideon Lightwood might appear as a renegade teen covered with tattoos, seemingly out of place at a bookstore in Manhattan's trendy district that specializes on antique and high-quality novels with a cup of his favorite specialty coffee in hand. But Alexander, or as he preferred, Alec, was not a normal teenager, seeing as he, like generations upon generations of Lightwoods, fought the ever-necessary battle against evil in this world which has manifested into inter-dimensional beings better known as demons. Not that the average mundane would know that.

Perhaps it was the musty scent of old books that hung in a glorious haze around the shop or a particularly sweet sip of his macchiato or the memory of some distant joke or the thought of how frazzled Isabelle had been these past few mornings trying to make him feel human (well, half human) again, but Alec smiled. This smile was notable only because Alec had not smiled since Alec's sparkly, wonderful, sexy, hilarious, and not to mention, High Warlock of Brooklyn, Magnus, Bane, had slipped through Alec's slender, graceful fingers, gone into the darkness of the train station. He had not left his room at the Institute for a fortnight, and it showed. His usually casually yet perfectly tousled raven hair that was so much like his sister's no longer shone, but instead hung in a dull dark sheet around his face, which thankfully hid the almost black circles under his eyes he had gained trying to remember everything about his Magnus so he could always remember what love felt like.

He had become too broken to function in all honesty. It wasn't a surprise that he hadn't been out on a mission with Isabelle and Jace in quite a while. He most likely would try to get himself killed so he might see Magnus again if he was called upon, or if his mind was kind enough to grace him with happiness in his final moments. Alec had been shattered. There was no reason to smile or eat or sleep when you didn't do those things with your boyfriend. Not boyfriend, he corrected himself, ex- (he instantly became nauseas at the word) boyfriend. Instead of a glowing expression that had replaced the usual scowl, there was a bleak, empty look. Instead of high cheekbones and full lips that, though perfect as any artist's rendition of an angel, paled in comparison to his heart-shattering eyes, there were dead, dark pools where his eyes had appeared to sink in. Instead of a wiry lightly muscled build, he was a skeleton, appearing to have lost forty or so pounds in so little time. Instead of Alec, there was a living dead man.

An adorable fat tabby padded into the living room, which looked as if a grenade had gone of in, attempting (most assuredly in vain) to catch his remarkably similar owner's attention. The Chairman wailed, but this had no effect on Magnus. He was too busy muttering to himself in the native tongue of his youth, which he did only when he was very upset. Determined to gain some sustenance for the day, seeing as his owner had not been taking very good care of him ever since he became remarkably similar to a zombie, Chairman Meow bit his golden skin, which usually sparkled. Hard. "Ouch! Damned cat, what in the hell do you need now?" At this, the Chairman merely sat on his hind legs and sent him an extreme look of disapproval.

"Oh. I haven't fed you today."

The cat merely continued with his silent yet effective communication.

"Or yesterday, I'm sorry…I just…he wasn't like the others. I don't know what's wrong with me, honestly. I mean...he's just a mortal. And he's not even dead yet. Just someone that accepted me, truly accepted me, and watched Project Runway with me for hours on end because he knew how much I loved bad-mouthing all of the stylists and saw right through me with those damned electric blue eyes…" He trailed off, perhaps too afraid to admit out loud that those were the eyes he still saw every time he closed his own cat-like ones. Maybe if he pretended he wasn't going insane about losing this one, he wouldn't be. Yes, that would be it. He wouldn't think about damned Alexander Lightwood and his perfect eyes and perfect mouth and how much he missed him and how when he was with him, Magnus, for the first time in over eight hundred years felt loved and complete…and. That's it. He thought, I'm going to forget him. There is no reason in falling in love with a mortal. Even a mortal that is perfect in all of the ways that it counts and might maybe be your soul mate if what you started reading up on while you were…an us…No. Stop. No more.

Chairman Meow, supremely displeased with his dinner service, bit down hard on his leg again, snapping Magnus back into reality. He bent to pick up the depressingly bare cat food bowl and fill it with the Chairman's favorite dry food and served the rather ruffled cat. And as he walked out of the kitchen to go to his bathroom so he could clean up, he realized three things at once without really knowing he knew them.

Loving a mortal really wasn't any good.

He needed to find the Book of White.

And it was time to pay his favorite Shadowhunter a visit.