"Watch me now," whined my best friend Henry. I smiled and rolled my eyes, but made a point of looking directly at him. He was sitting on my roommate, Crystal's, bed, but she never hung out in here if she could help it, so it was basically Henry's.

He climbed up on the mattress, closed his eyes, and waited. Slowly, his feet lifted off of the bed. He was hovering in midair. He stayed there for about ten seconds, before the connection suddenly broke and he crumpled to the floor with a thud. He recovered quickly, though, hopping to his feet eagerly.

"What do you think?"

"I think that you should keep a mat underneath you," I teased him. Henry socked me in the shoulder, but he was chuckling good-naturedly.

"Well, we can't all be as magical as you, Tare," he said.

"It's not magic, what I can do," I reminded him. He rolled his eyes.

"If it's not magic, what is it?" he asked in a monotone voice. We'd had this fight before.

"I've told you a million times, I don't know," I stressed. And it was true; I didn't. My quirks and abilities seemed to far outshadow those of my fellow inmates, which was part of the reason I was such an outcast. The other part was that I far preferred solitude to small talk and books to the boring movies in the Theater. It wasn't that I didn't want friends: of course I did. But none of them were like me. Henry was the closest thing I had to a sibling; he was easily my best friend.

"Do you have any food?" he asked hopefully. He knew that I couldn't stomach the mystery meat the served us in the Cafe, so I often snuck into the Staff Lounge and smuggled a couple snacks into my purse.

"Of course," I told him, hopping off my bed, where I was sitting criss-cross. I layed down on my stomach and reached under my mattress but above the bed frame. "Granola bar?" I offered Henry, pulling two chocolate chip bars out. He grabbed one and unwrapped it hungrily. I peeled the wrapping off of mine and chewed it. We sat in silence for a minute before a knock sounded at the door. I stuffed the rest of my bar into my pillowcase; Henry's had been demolished already.

I opened the door to see my dear old roommate, Crystal, glaring at me. Her blonde hair had one streak of purple that fell over one eye. The other eye, a piercing green, glared at me. Her arms were crossed.

"I need my backpack," she said in a rough tone.

I opened the door wider. "No one's stopping you," I said.

She walked in uncomfortably, being extra sure not to touch me or Henry. She flinched when she saw him sitting on her bed and I used my chin to signal him off. He hopped up and unhooked her backpack from the bed post.

"Here ya go," he said cheerfully. Crystal snatched it and turned to me.

"Boys shouldn't be allowed in here," she said pointedly.

"You're hardly ever in here at the same time," I reminded her. "And Henry's fine; he's never in here past curfew."

"That's because he's too scared to break the rules," she snapped. Henry stifled back a giggle. He had broken more rules than Crystal would know about, he just hadn't ever gotten caught. "You're both just losers who don't have any friends."

I felt fire blazing within me. "You don't mean that," I said quietly. And I knew she didn't; she, like everyone else, was scared. She didn't understand.

"I do," she snarled. "And I wish anyone else was my roommate."

"Stop!" I yelled. And I saw it. The way her eyes widened, a small gasp escaping her lips. She stepped backwards out the door then broke into a run. I turned to the mirror.

Sure enough, my eyes had changed. They were normally a comforting shade of brown, but every so often they changed. Usually I noticed it when I became upset or angry, which Crystal often made me. Sometimes I wondered if she did it on purpose, to provoke me, but it scared her so much I guessed she forgot.

Put simply, they resembled cat eyes. Emerald green, with black pupils that shrunk into vertical slits. Henry was slightly put off by it, but didn't flee the room when they changed.

"God," I sighed, collapsing on my bed and burying my head in my hands. I felt Henry rubbing his hand on my back comfortingly.

"She was being a bitch, Tare," he said softly. "It isn't your fault."

I sniffed. I wasn't crying; more just shaking a little. Embarrassed. Scared. Confused. "I just want to know why," I said, lifting my face so my words wouldn't sound muffled. No one else at the Institution had such a weird defect. I was the only one.

"It's just part of your ability," Henry suggested. I shook my head.

"It's more than that," I said. "I just know it."

"Well...don't worry about it," Henry said, standing up. "It doesn't really matter, people hardly notice it."

That was pushing it. Everyone noticed it, and Henry knew it. But I held back from making a sarcastic comeback because I knew Henry was only trying to help.

"Thanks, Hen," I smiled, patting his arm. He looked me in the eye, even though I could see the strain it took.

"Don't mention it."

"You coming to dinner?" Henry asked, standing in my doorway.

My eyes were back to normal. I was lying on my bed, playing with one of my old necklaces.

"Nah," I told him. "I have food. And I'm not even that hungry right now." Mealtimes weren't required, but if you wanted to eat (and had no way to steal) then you'd show up.

"Okay...see you."

"Bye, Hen."

The necklace was from when I was eight, I think. I had found it on the floor and had pocketed it. The charm was a little blue ball. I don't know why I liked it so much; I think I was just interested in anything I could find. I've always been the curious type.

I lifted my head up and checked the door. Still shut. I stared at the lock and focused very clearly. It pressed in, locking the door. Good.

I took my hands and held them inches apart. Blue light began to emanate from my palms, staying within my hands. I stared at it, practically transfixed by it.

Every other kid at the Institution had some sort of weird ability. That's why they were here: so they're quirks didn't harm anyone else. Some, like Henry, could levitate. Others could communicate with one another through their minds. Some could use telekinesis to move objects. It was all stuff like that, but in very little power. Henry could only levitate for a few moments before the power was gone, as if a switch turned it off. Crystal could levitate objects, but very feebly. Unless she remained in dead focus, the object would fall. And even if she did, it wouldn't move very fast.

But I was different. I bend light and sound at will. And my powers were strong. If I wanted, I could knock someone over in a gust of wind I could conjure. I didn't know how or why-for all of my life that I could remember, I lived in the Institution. I couldn't remember life before I came here. Did I have parents? Did I still? Were they dead? And if they weren't-well, that was almost worse. Which parents would willingly leave their daughter in this place of torture?

The Staff, which mostly consists of strict old ladies, often tells us how grateful we should be to have a place in the Institution, but all us kids know better. The food is almost inedible, the living conditions barely adequate, and the care of the Staff is practically non-existent. If you're sick, it's better to go see an eighteen-year-old girl named Jem rather than go see the nurse.

Someone pounded on my door. I got up, unlocked it, and opened it to see Henry standing there, out of breath.

"What is it?" I asked.

"They-need-you," he gasped, leaning against the doorframe.

"Didn't you tell them I wasn't hungry?"

He shook his head. "Not-food-visitor."

I'd never had a visitor before. Visits were reserved for one day a month for two hours, and they were never popular. Even someone like Henry rarely saw a family member. I slipped into my shoes and followed Henry to the Dining Hall.

Ms. Torrant, the secretary, met us in the hallway. She was short and stocky and had gray hair yanked into a tiny bun atop her head. She wore a navy jacket with shoulder pads and a wide skirt that skimmed the floor. And she never smiled.

"Taryn!" she barked in the croaky voice of a smoker. "Visitor for you!"

"But it's not Visiting Hour," I said nonchalantly, looking down at her.

She snorted. "Special circumstances," she said in the tone that most people would describe spiders with. "Follow me. And Mr. Hankins, kindly return to dinner." Ms. Torrant usually called us by our last names, but in my case, I don't seem to have one. You can tell when she says my name that it causes her great discomfort, which is just a perk.

I followed Ms. Torrant down the hallway to the entrance. No one knows exactly where the Institution is, but one thing is certain-there's no escaping. Believe me. I've tried.

The entrance is clean in a way that the rest of the building doesn't even seem to be connected to it. A chrome desk with a computer, glass doors (one-way mirrored, so we can't see the outside), and immaculate floors and walls. Even the ceiling seemed to sparkle. Only one thing was popping out at me from the room, and that was a man.

He had slanted eyes that suggested Asian descent, but his skin was a light brown and his hair seemed a very dark blue. He was wearing a purple tuxedo that glimmered in the fluorescent light of the room. He was leaning against the front desk in a male-model pose. I'm sorry, but he was attractive.

Ms. Torrant cleared her throat and the man turned toward us. He smiled when he saw me, which made me blush. I didn't exactly look my best. I was wearing the required uniform, a baggy cream-colored jumpsuit with the sleeves rolled up. My hair was frizzy and rumpled from being against my pillow, and I had three zits by my last count. But this man was smiling at me like I was royalty.

"You must be Taryn," he said in perfect English. I had been expecting an exotic accent to go with this flamboyant look. He held out his hand and I shook it. "I'm Magnus. Magnus Bane."

"Hello," I said awkwardly. He let go of my hand, which had grown rather sweaty.

"You're probably wondering why I'm here," he winked. I blushed even more profusely.

"Kinda," I shrugged shyly.

He only smiled more broadly. "I'm here to take you home."

"I-what?" Home? I had never known a home. The Institution was my shelter, no doubt, maybe even my house, but never a home. "I don't have a home."

Ms. Torrant was standing there still, staring up at Magnus with utter detest in her face. "She has lived here her entire life," she said crisply.

"Well, naturally," said Magnus, with a funny bow in Ms. Torrant's direction. "But she doesn't truly belong here. You've seen her abilities, I'm guessing?"

I held back a laugh. Once, I had accidentally sent a tray of mashed potatoes flying at Ms. Torrant. It hadn't hurt her, just splattered her face and clothes with clumps of yellow goo. No injury, but embarrassment. And entertainment for us kids, of course.

"I have," she said stiffly. Obviously, she hadn't forgotten either.

"Then you'll know that what Taryn has isn't some quirk of nature or birth defect. It's actual magic," Magnus said as if it were the simplest thing in the world.

Magic? "Henry was right," I whispered so neither of the adults could hear. "But wait," I said, looking up at Magnus. "How do you know?"

"I knew your parents," Magnus addressed me. "Well, really just your mother."

"Where is she?" I asked before I could stop myself. "Do you know?"

"I'm afraid I do…" Magnus didn't continue.

"Is she...is she dead?" I forced out. I didn't need to look at Magnus' pointed gaze at the floor, his silence told me all I needed to know. "Well...what about my dad?"

Magnus looked up at me, though it looked like it caused him some pain. "Your father is.."

"Is what?" I asked, as if I were a five year old and Magnus was my parent.

"He's a demon," Magnus said slowly. "Which makes you a warlock."

I couldn't speak. I just stared at Magnus as if he were insane. "You don't believe me," he said simply. It wasn't a question, it was a statement.

"Why should I?" I asked, trying to make it seem like I wasn't shaking.

Magnus didn't respond. Instead, he smiled. Then I noticed his eyes: they were bright green with cat pupils.

Just like mine.

"What-"

"A Warlock's mark," he said, and his eyes were back to dark brown. "I take it you have it too?"

"Y-yeah," I stuttered.

"What is it?" he asked.

"Um…" I didn't know how to say it. "It's...it's the same."

For the first time, Magnus looked taken aback. "Are you...are you serious?" he asked.

"Yeah," I said, almost feeling as if I should apologize.

"Can you...I mean, do you…"

"It happens randomly," I rushed on. "I mean, I can't, like...control it."

"Well, that's normal," said Magnus, who seemed as if he has recollected himself. "You'll learn."

Ms. Torrant was shifting her head and her piercing glare between Magnus and me. "Do you think you can just take her, then?" she demanded, staring up at Magnus. He had a good foot and then some on her height, but she stared straight up at him to make eye contact.

"Why yes, I thought that would be easiest," said Magnus calmly.

"I'll have you know that here in the Institution, we don't just let our children wander," she snapped. "When were you expecting to return her?"

"I wasn't," Magnus said, raising an eyebrow. "Unless, of course, Taryn would like to come back to her childhood home." He glanced at me.

"No," I said hurriedly. "I mean…" I thought of Henry. "Maybe just to visit," I added, and Magnus nodded.

"Of course, I'm assuming you have friends. Very respectable. Other than that…" he spread his hands in a shrug. I noticed a gold wedding band gleaming on one finger.

"You can't just take kids out of the Institution!" shouted Ms. Torrant. "I won't allow it, I won't!"

Magnus didn't retaliate. Instead, he held out one hand and muttered something under his breath. In an instant, Ms. Torrant's beady eyes glazed over and her shoulders slumped slightly.

"I will be taking Taryn with me," he said softly, faint light pouring from his fingertips.

"Of course," said Ms. Torrant in a funny, whimsical voice.

"She won't be returning," Magnus said. He spoke slowly, as if he were speaking to a child.

"I should expect not," Ms. Torrant nodded. "I hope you are well, Mr. Bane." And then she walked away as if nothing had happened, although her path was a little crooked.

"Didn't want it to come to that," sighed Magnus, closing his hand into a fist. The light disappeared. "I take it you have some packing to do?"

"Um...yeah...I'll just go do that," I said, before walking away. Once I couldn't see Magnus anymore, I broke into a run.

"And you're just going to go?" Henry asked incredulously, once I'd finished telling him the whole story.

I looked up at him. "A chance to leave this place? Definitely."

"And me," he accused. "You're also leaving me."

I sighed. "I know, and I already told you I'd be back for every Visiting Day."

"It won't be the same," he said ruefully, and I knew he was right. But Henry was different from me. The only reason he had no other friends was because no one wanted me to tag along. Henry was likeable, and reasonably good looking, though not my type. He'd be okay.

"You don't even know this man," he reminded me as I stuffed my few books in my purse. "He could be a murderer."

"He can't possibly be worse than the people here," I said bitterly. And it was true: aside from Henry, this place was full of assholes. "Present company excluded."

"I'll miss you." Henry had given up logic and gone for the good ol' Pathos argument. Toying with my emotions.

I turned to him. "Do you really think I'd go if I didn't have to?" He shrugged, so I continued. "You, at least, know your parents. You've seen the world. It's been awhile," I added as he opened his mouth to interrupt, "but you have. I've just-I've only known this place. Aside from books, it's the only place I remember being. I need to see that there's good in the world."

I held out the remaining box of food I'd smuggled. "For you," I smiled. "And the extra door in the bathroom? Leads to this room." I winked.

Henry's jaw dropped. "I thought that was a myth! Why didn't you tell me?"

I smiled. "I don't tell you everything."

Henry threw his arms around me and I hugged him back, smelling his coconut shampoo that I still don't know how he gets. "You've been like a sister to me," he said.

"Same here," I joked, which earned me a punch on the arm. I cringed but laughed, hoisting my purse onto my shoulder. "Take care of this place, okay?"

Henry didn't walk to the Entrance with me. I asked him not to.

Magnus was still there as if he hadn't moved. "Ready?" he asked me. I nodded.

He opened the glass door and suddenly I was free. It was that simple.

I'd be lying if I didn't say I had dreamed of this moment for years. My first breath of fresh air, maybe some green grass or even an ocean with waves the size of buildings. There was always a sun, too, warming my skin with its heat. I had come up with the most elaborate plans of how to sneak that breath, but the one rule I could never break at this place was escaping. Somehow, the plans never fell through.

However, once I walk out, I recoil in disgust.

Around us were piles of garbage and tubs of what I assumed were filled with chemicals or toxic waste. The sky was gray and the air was humid, and flies buzzed around me even though I didn't think I was that dirty.

"Where are we?" I asked Magnus.

"I wouldn't know," he replied. "I travelled by portal and arrived right outside the door. Quite convenient," he added thoughtfully.

"Portal?"

"Give me one moment," he said. He held his hands out and pressed his palms against the air as if there were glass in front of him. A purple hole materialized in front of us with glowing light inside. "Would you like to go first?"

"Not particularly," I said weakly, staring at the gaping hole in the atmosphere. "Is it safe?"

"Safest way to travel," said Magnus proudly. "And most fashionable, I might add." He took a few steps forward and disappeared into the portal. I screamed and looked around, but no one came out. The Institution was behind me. It was as big as it seemed on the inside, gray as the rest of its surroundings and intimidatingly tall. I half expected lightning to strike its poles from black thunderclouds.

"Hurry!" I heard a faint voice shout from within the portal. "It won't last much longer."

Taking a deep breath, and clutching my purse tightly, I stepped into the portal.

The world reversed; light and sound were suddenly absent but I felt them inside of me. I tried to yell out but my mouth was non-existent, my whole body was one with the dark nothingness around me. And as soon as it started, it stopped.

I was on the ground, my cheek scraped up against rough asphalt. I could feel the sting of blood but didn't dare lift my face. I felt a hand on my back.

"Magnus!" a voice shouted. "She's hurt!"

I turned my head an inch to see who was kneeling over me. It was a man with pale skin and startlingly blue eyes. He had short black hair and a kind, worried face. "Are you alright?" he asked me.

"I-" I started to say before I saw Magnus dart into view.

"Taryn, you only just made it," he panted. "The portal had just about deactivated."

"Lucky me," I grumbled, daring to lift my head from the concrete. "Where are we?"

"Outside my house," Magnus said worriedly. "Come on, Alec, get her inside."

Alec took me by the arm and half carried me inside an apartment complex. Magnus lived at the very top, which meant lots of stairs. When we finally reached his house, I collapsed on a couch that seemed too strategically placed. I hardly cared though.

"Taryn, is it?" Alec asked, crouching in front of me. I heard Magnus bustling around somewhere. "I'm Alec."

"Nice to meet you," I tried to say, but it came out more, "Nustuhmehyah." I waited a second before asking, "Why am I so tired?"

"First experience with a portal will do that," Alec said expertly. "And I'm guessing you're still in shock over the whole 'warlock' thing."

There was that warlock word again. "What's a warlock?" I asked. Alec's eyebrows flicked up.

"Did Magnus not tell you?"

"He didn't mention anything about what a warlock is, if that's what you mean." My head hurt and I was confused. Who were these people? Where had they taken me? They seemed nice enough, but books and movies had taught me that the nice ones often turned out to be the serial killers.

"I think Magnus wants to tell you himself," said Alec, not unkindly. "In the meantime, are you hungry?"

Perfectly timed, my stomach lets out a loud growl. I blushed, but Alec didn't laugh.

"I'll get you some dinner," he said, standing up and walking away.

I adjusted my head so I could see where I was. Magnus' living room was, for lack of a better word, strange. Hanging on the walls were banners that didn't do much to mask the obvious stains and scratches. One couch was pushed against the wall, and where there would have been another there was blank carpet. I assumed that couch was pushed by the door for me. Another chair sat in the center of the room, a fluffy, fat cat curled up, asleep on it. Oh, and the whole place was covered in glitter, from the couch cushions to the television hanging from the ceiling. I could see the doorway to the kitchen behind the living room, but I couldn't see inside.

Alec emerged some time later with a plate of what looked like mashed potatoes, asparagus, and meatloaf. I had eaten similar meals at the Institution but never this good. Their mashed potatoes were dry and tasteless, the asparagus wilted, and the meat suspicious and inedible. Magnus and Alec's food tasted better than anything I had ever tasted. I ate three platefuls because Magnus was able to refill the plate by magic each time I cleared it.

I was still lying on the couch when I was done, but I forced myself to sit up. "So...where are we?" I asked. Magnus, who was sitting on the floor (Alec was in the chair), set his fork down.

"New York City," he told me. "Where the Shadowhunter headquarters are. But you'll find there's quite a few downworlders like you and me here, as well."

"What's a downworlder?" I asked. I felt fuzzy and lightheaded, as if I were someone else. I sure as hell hadn't felt like myself since I had seen Magnus for the first time back at the Institution.

"Vampires, werewolves, fair folk, and warlocks," recited Alec.

"Are you a warlock?" I asked Magnus. He grinned.

"I am," he responded, "and so are you."