I feel that I should warn you guys...the next several chapters are on the long side. Please review so I know you are still enjoying the story! Otherwise I lose the motivation to write! :) Thanks as always to Cleff and thanks for reading!
~Chapter Nine~
Sleep did not come easily to Alec; in fact it didn't come at all. He finally got up and slipped out of bed around 6 am. He quietly crept from the room hoping not to wake Magnus. When the warlock finally came to bed at two am, he'd collapsed without a word. It hurt that he was so angry, but what was Alec to do? He couldn't run away from his responsibilities. Even that comic book had said it: With great power came great responsibility. It wasn't exactly like the battle in Alicante, but he hoped Magnus would still come around and support him. He did not want to go into negotiations with Kale as his only back-up. Angel only knew what that warlock would do.
He showered quickly and found that disappointment waited for him when he went back to the bedroom. Magnus slept on. Alec took his stele and started drawing runes on himself. Three quarters of an hour later, he'd finally finished. He quickly dressed in jeans, a faded black t-shirt, and a new jacket he didn't remember buying that Jace and Izzy had packed for him. He was sorting through the bag of weapons on the floor when two tanned arms came around him. His head tilted to the side as kisses pressed to his neck. "I was beginning to think you weren't going to see me off."
Magnus turned Alec to face him. Cupping the side of his face, he kissed him on the lips. Pulling back he gave Alec a stern look. "What makes you think I'd let you and Kale go anywhere without my supervision?"
Alec blinked then laughed, wrapping his arms around his boyfriend's neck. "Thank the Angel..." He'd thought the ploy hadn't worked.
Snorting, Magnus hugged him back. "Don't think you won't pay for this blatant manipulation." He said, in a teasing tone, "I expect to be handsomely compensated." He backed Alec into the dresser with a smile and a kiss. Just because Magnus was not a Shadowhunter did not mean he wasn't strong. He easily lifted Alec onto the dresser without breaking apart.
Alec spread his legs wide to draw him in. Every kiss made his pulse quicken. Every touch made him shiver and want more and it was never enough all at the same time. "That can be arranged." He murmured. The lips were very warm above his own. He put everything he felt into the touch. I love you. I'm sorry this sucks. I love you. Please understand. He slid his fingers up into silky black hair and held Magnus captive.
Happily lip locked, Magnus let it build in intensity, hands wandering hungrily over his back and sides. The things he was doing with his tongue made Alec's toes curl in his boots. They did not have time for what they were working up to. His jeans became woefully tight.
Breathing heavy, Magnus pulled back with great difficulty. "Please…" he licked his swollen lips, "Please… can't we go to South Island?," he nipped at Alec's lips, "Hawaii?" nuzzled his neck then kissed his jaw, "Tasmania, ohhh Tahiti, it's lovely there… little neon drinks with umbrellas." He breathed against Alec's flushed skin, "or Bali, how about Bali?No, wait. Bali's full of spiders. Never mind that one."
Laughing, Alec clung to his shoulders. "We can't do that." Magnus gave a dramatic sigh. Alec kissed away the sour look, ignoring how much he wanted to strip and drag them back to the bed. Being a responsible adult sucked. "I would run away with you in a heartbeat, under different circumstances."
"You want to get married? We can go to Vegas first?" He paused, cat-eyes studying Alec. "Ring?" He offered him one of the many pieces of jewelry from the box beside him. It was a large, cut yellow gem. Knowing Magnus it was probably a real yellow diamond.
"Don't be ridiculous." Alec laughed quietly. "That would flash at the smallest light. It would be a dead giveaway on a hunt. Besides, we use Runes, you know we do."
"Does that mean you don't want to marry me?"
"Magnus!" Alec shoved at him, grinning. "If you are coming you need to get ready."
Magnus pouted. An honest to goodness pout, it was so adorable Alec had to kiss him again. "But first." He eyed the bag of weapons with dislike. "We have to arm you properly. You can't march in like a Shadowhunter decked out for battle, weapons everywhere."
"Technically for peace negotiations I am supposed to be unarmed as a show of good faith." Alec said evenly, with a very good blank face as he pulled a runed dagger from his boot. "I am not stupid, Magnus. I just have to hide my weapons better. I mean, I take one big obvious one, give it up at the door and promise to be there in amity."
"I would never think you are stupid, darling. Trusting, noble, honest—well except for this case—but never stupid." Magnus looked over the blade and tapped his chin. He wiggled his fingers and a flat box soared from the closet and to his hand. "There may be spells up that will detect Angelic weaponry, if we are going to hide something…" He opened the box and picked up a sheathed dagger. "This is an demonic blade." He explained, taking Alec's hand so he could press it into it. "It should fit in that sheath."
Alec unsheathed the knife, turning it over in his hand. The metal shined like any other steel blade, polished and gleaming, but still gave back a cloudy reflection. It was weighted for parrying, light and fast. The runes carved into the pommel gave him an uneasy feeling, "If I stab someone with this, I'm not going to steal their soul or something, am I?"
To his complete surprise, Magnus had to check the dagger over again before he answered. "…No. That's not this one... This'll… give your wounds to your enemy."
A retribution spell, Alec slid the dagger into its new home by his shin. He did not want to think about what other daggers Magnus might have.
"Under no circumstances are you to take this out unless I tell you."
Pressing his lips together, Alec nodded, slightly insulted that Magnus would think he would make such a novice mistake.
Magnus kissed his forehead. "Don't make that face. You know as well as I do how trigger happy you Nephilim are. Someone looks at you the wrong way you are ready to kill them."
"You mistake me for Jace."
"He's not the one that destroyed my couch."
Alec had nothing to say to that. He hopped off the dresser, glaring. "I know how to handle myself, Magnus. I've been to Clave meetings and negotiations before." He wasn't a politician, but lack of faith gnawed at him. Alec needed all the confidence he could get; this argument did not help him.
"This is nothing like a Clave meeting. You don't assassinate each other at Clave meetings." He replied, eyes going suddenly distant. "Promise me you will stay by my side."
Assassinate? "Stop treating me like I am helpless. And please stop panicking."
Magnus winced. "I don't mean to-" Frustrated, he raked a hands through his hair and tried to explain. "I'm taking the most precious thing in my life into the most dangerous place on earth."
You are my heart walking the earth outside my body.
Alec smiled. "I love you, too."
"I can't lose you." Magnus pressed his forehead to Alec's. "I can't."
"You won't." Alec took the warlock's face into his hands. His thumbs rubbed soothing circles against his cheeks. He'd do many great and terrible things to wipe the look of fear off his boyfriend's face. "If nothing else, trust in my desire not to die. I want to live. I want to come home to you and make out with you every day, at least once a day, for the rest of my life. Okay?"
Startled into laughter, Magnus agreed.
"Now. Tell me about the major players. What can I expect? Is there anything specific I should do? Or say? Or not ever say?"
"Aside from Kale, I don't know who is behind this. I…" Magnus licked his lips. "Stay as quiet and unmoved as you can. They don't expect you there, but once they know you are representing the Clave… they will put on a show for you. It will be bad. Very bad. They might try to tempt you into breaking the Accords. Or they might ignore you and draw up a declaration of war and have you hand deliver it."
Alec frowned. "We need a plan to convince them otherwise."
The Coven convened at the Metropolitan Opera House. At nine in the morning, no mundane events were scheduled. The sign outside declared "Closed!" and "Coming Soon!" over a series of posters. Briefly, Alec wondered if this went as badly as Magnus seemed to think it would, how would the mundanes explain the destruction of the iconic theater? Inside the theater looked much like the opera house Magnus had taken him to in Italy. A cantilevered stairway dominated the lobby climbing several floors. Carved wood and plaster molding decorated every corner, line, surface, chair rail and counter in fleur de lis, vines, and Italian scrollwork. Ostentatious, he decided, but pretty. A dozen crystal chandeliers twinkled like constellations lighting the way. Alec gnawed on his lip. Considering what Kale did to Magnus's lamps, he wished he'd worn Shadowhunter gear. The leather would protect him much better than his boyfriend's fashion sense.
His skin prickled the further they moved inside. Alec had drawn so many anti-magic runes, magic protection runes, and nullify magic runes, he couldn't pinpoint what he felt from whom. He could only taste the foul magic saturating the air. With so many warlocks in the building, their magic compounded upon itself. It turned even the weakest signals strong enough to feel like as Alec walked, he waded through knee-high quicksand. He shoved the unnerving feeling to the back of his mind. It wouldn't help to dwell on it. Warning him of danger now would be like declaring the rain was wet.
Kale led their party. He had added a thicker flannel shirt, hunter green, over his other beaten, scruffy clothes. He had offered Catarina his arm not at all minding her outfit putting his to shame. She wore a white, pristine dress in a style Alec had only seen in portraits from centuries ago. She looked graceful and regal. Her long white hair cascaded in curls down her back.
Magnus had dressed like he'd come from a nightclub and was on his way home. His white pants needed to be arrested. The way they hugged him tight over his butt was simply criminal. The large studded belt with its brilliant, giant buckle that pointed to the man's crotch made Alec's face hot. Only with great effort did he not tie his jacket around his boyfriend's waist. Magnus's wine red shirt had two buttons done near his sternum, letting the rest fall open and bare his golden skin to the world. A half dozen silver, gold, and steel chains with pendants, all magical, draped over his slim chest. He wore a ring on nearly every finger, some with doubled bands of plain metal, others with precious stones. Magnus's skin shimmered in the light, glitter winking in his hair, too. He done something with his makeup to make his eyes look very, very green. A white and black punk-rock sports coat and matching hat completed his exhibitionist style.
Magnus snaked an arm around Alec's waist, tugging him to his side. He pressed his mouth close to Alec's ear. "You see those three up on the staircase?"
Alec followed his eyes. A blond man in green with red and black eyes laughed with a shorter man with black hair and a bloody scar that took up half his face. Next to the pair stood a dark skinned woman with brown hair in wild braids and clawed hands. He nodded.
"Keep your distance."
The crowd parted as a short warlock hobbled towards them. A waistcoat and formal clothes hid much of his dark blue skin and green scales. He had features that seemed vaguely Asian, oblong eyes, smooth black hair, and a flat nose. The man walked with a cane, his left leg below the knee had been replaced by a wooden peg. The hard gleam in his brown eyes told Alec the wound was probably given to him by a Nephilim. There were runes specifically designed to prevent healing spells from working. Most of them weren't used any more, the point was to kill your enemies not maim them.
"Jiruko Curse." Magnus introduced him to Alec when he saw the man headed toward them. "Magistrate and a High Warlock of Tokyo, he's presiding over the meeting today."
Power washed over Alec in a deepening waves as the warlock progressed. In his wake, the man left silence. By the time he came to a halt before the four, all eyes were on them. Jiruko blinked double eyelids; the inner set a clear vertical membrane, the outer horizontal. "Kale." He greeted with a jut of his chin. The man spoke in a rolling baritone suited to giving orders. "You have delivered Magnus to us."
Magnus smiled politely. He sounded nigh on jaunty when he declared without preamble, "I vote no, for the record."
Jiruko turned his heavy gaze to Magnus. "Unsurprising, given how the half-breeds rely on you, they should ask you to move in for expediency's sake. Are you sure you're still a warlock?"
The polite smile froze on Magnus's face. Blandly, he replied, "I thought you knew our fathers had a regular chess date every Tuesday."
After a tense moment of silence the Magistrate's attention turned from the flashy warlock to the subdued Shadowhunter. "I don't recall clearing any visitors to this meeting." He looked the young man over. His power reached out, licking over Alec like slimy tentacles, tasting him. He fought the urge to retch at the sensation. "A Nephilim?"
Alec had practiced this move. With a flick of his thumb, the belt strapped across his chest holding the mundane broadsword unlocked. In one smooth, swift motion he had it wrapped up and held out with both hands to the Magistrate. "On behalf of the Clave, I, Alexander Lightwood, relinquish my sword to you, Magistrate Jiruko Curse, in good faith that we might negotiate in peace."
The blue warlock tapped his cane on the ground a few times.
For a span of heartbeats Alec was certain the man would take it to kill him with it right then and there. Traditionally, angry kings did kill the messenger. The Fearless rune must have started working, because he was not afraid to die. Just angry that he was sent to die uselessly. Either he succeeded in gaining their trust and staved off a war or died and the Nephilim got to kill warlocks indiscriminately. It hadn't occurred to him that way before, but either way the Clave won.
"Are you trying to insult me, boy?" The Magistrate finally asked.
"No, sir—"
"Only the Consul may negotiate treaties in the Clave's name."
"You are correct. I cannot swear the Clave to a treaty. However, I am the Reparations Officer for the New York Institute." Alec's voice rang loud and clear. "The Consul sends her greetings, but regrettably, is detained in London. It seems someone razed an Institute to the ground." He had not expected the cheering this statement brought forth. "In her stead, I am authorized to settle the matter of Ms. Catarina Loss' case. I can take testimony and listen to all grievances you wish to bring forth. And I can attend to wergild requests. All I ask is that you take this sword so I may attend in peace and help prevent this war from happening."
"I heard…" Jiruko drawled, "That Magnus had taken a Nephilim lover. I assume that is who you are?"
He could not prevent the color flooding to his face. His arms extended to their fullest, started to get tired at the weight. If he dropped the sword or lowered it, the Magistrate could refuse him and the Clave. That would be bad.
"He is." Magnus stepped forward.
Jiruko ignored him, staring at Alec, waiting for an answer. Licking his lips, he did not like the observation. It had no place in negotiations, unless it was about to be used against him. Alec evaded it. "Is that of interest to you?"
"Answer me this truthfully and I will accept your entry," Jiruko's hand hovered over the scabbard. The curl of a devious smile pulling his lips up. He had Alec. He knew it. Somehow he'd been set up. "If the Clave ordered you to kill Magnus, would you do it?"
Fuck me. Alec paled. "Mariticide is a high crime among the Nephilim."
The Magistrate blinked rapidly, genuinely surprised with the answer. He recovered quickly. "Are Nephilim allowed to marry warlocks?"
"It's happened before." He could only recall one instance and it had been a very special case. Although the family journals from that time period were filled with special cases. Alec raised the sword to touch the blue hand that gripped the weapon in an automatic response.
Jiruko strapped the weapon to his back with jerky movements. He had thrown Alec a curveball only to have him hit a homerun. The Magistrate narrowed his eyes and even in defeat, he won. "We welcome you in peace, Alexander Lightwood of the Nephilim Clave. I expect to see you in the front row for the guest speakers. I trust you can find your way." He nodded to Catarina. "I look forward to hearing your account."
With that he hobbled away in the direction he came. Alec let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding. The power slithering over him ebbed away. In its absence he felt faint. The crowd instantly descended into gossip.
"I don't like this." Magnus repeated for the umpteenth time. "He means to put Alec on display. And in the front row? We won't have an escape."
Kale shrugged. "Who cares, he just gave angel cake permission to attend the meeting and guaranteed his safety, that's what you wanted."
The world truly must be coming to an end, because Alec agreed with Kale's assessment. He was about to pronounce the miracle, or apologize to Magnus for the exchange, when another warlock approached them.
The woman had metallic gold skin. She wore a red silk dress that held her modesty in place with a dangling gold looped belt. It was a single fall of red down her back to the floor, parted at her shoulders and the V over her voluptuous curves closed at the belted waist, leaving her sides bare. How she was not freezing, Alec did not know. Noisy bracelets covered her arms and jingled whenever she moved. Her gold hair, wrapped in circlets of crystals and diamonds, had been piled high on her head, making her nearly as tall as Magnus. Her eyes were completely black, flat, and alien.
"Zia!" Kale greeted, giving her an obvious once over. "Might I say you are looking ravishing today."
"Save your paltry adorations, Kale." Her voice ran over them like water over stone. "I'm here to see Magnus."
"Lovely to see you, Zia." Magnus greeted with a nod of his head. The smile gracing his lips was anything but friendly. "Alec this is Zia Deprave, High Priestess of Cairo. Remember when I told you I'd been with warlocks, darling? Zia was one of them." He paused. "Until she cheated on me with an Egyptian vampire… but that was centuries ago." He said so flippantly it was like she wasn't even standing there.
Alec frowned at the warlock. Who in their right mind would cheat on Magnus Bane? He acknowledged her with a slight nod. "Priestess Deprave."
"I see you've found yourself a new plaything." Zia remarked, eyeing Alec like prize cut of meat. "You always did have a thing for pretty boys. What number is he?"
Alec opened his mouth channeled his inner Jace. "Number one. The only one that matters."
Her vulpine stare turned into a sneer. "Interesting." She continued to speak over Alec and to Magnus. "Clearly he's unaware of your track record."
Unfazed, Alec continued. "Did you switched to vampires because you can't satisfy a man that actually breathes?"
Catarina politely coughed into her hand, not really covering her smile. Kale sniggered. Even Magnus looked surprised.
Indignant, Zia reared back, sniffed, and stormed off.
With a sidelong glance the Canadian said, "Not too shabby, angel cake."
Pulling Alec to his side Magnus hissed at him. "What happened to not reacting?"
"What happened to not subjecting me to your ex-girlfriends?" He shot back.
"I had no control over that!"
"Kids!" Kale injected himself between them, putting arm around each of them. "Might I remind you we are in the depths of warlock central? And your little Nephilim is getting some unwanted attention." As he said that, he nodded to the trio Magnus had pointed out earlier. They were descending the stairs looking right at Alec.
The four made it into the main house without further confrontations. Several warlocks approached Catarina with compliments and well-wishes. Alec could feel every eye in the place on him. Catcalls and snickering followed in their wake. He couldn't be sure who those were meant for given Magnus's reputation. The huge house rapidly filled in. At his rough count, he figured the venue held about three thousand. Catarina had been right about the demonic energy. He felt nauseous, edgy, and cagey, but not afraid—the fearless rune hadn't worn off yet. He hoped the rune would last him through the assembly, but he honestly had no idea how long it would hold him against the onslaught. Although he couldn't be sure, some warlocks could manipulate feelings. Even with his training, he couldn't identify the source, the sensation of oppression came from everywhere. "How many warlocks would you say there are?" He asked Magnus.
They found four open seats in the front row. "More than are going to fit in here." The warlock answered. "The ifrits are up of the fifth level; the lower level warlocks come next and then so on. High Warlocks, Magistrates, and High Priests all get to sit in the orchestra."
He went on to explain the hierarchy of warlocks, how they as a whole decided what to do, if anything. Warlocks were a fiercely independent lot. After apprenticeship, they left to run their own small free state. The more powerful the warlock, the larger the area they could claim. In a large regional area, the warlocks appointed a representative, Magnus called him 'sucker,' to talk to the other races on the warlocks' behalf. The local warlocks agreed to abide by any decisions the representative made. These warlocks had different titles, but all served the same function, High Warlock, High Priest, whichever. Magistrates governed High Warlocks, especially if there were many powerful warlocks in the area.
"So…" Alec tentatively ventured. He licked his lips, teasing, "You're our local sucker, and Jiruko is… the head sucker?"
Magnus leaned over in his seat to nibble at the young man's ear. "Mmmmm, what has gotten into you?" His hand came to rest on Alec's thigh, squeezing it.
Turning faintly pink, Alec grabbed the wandering hand. "It's the fearless rune," he kissed the apple of Magnus's cheek. "Worse comes to worse, I can redraw it on the palm of my hand."
Up above them, in the atrium, a large number of winged warlocks hung upside down like bats in a cave. Alec almost said that out loud but fearless was very different from stupid. Despite what his parabatai seemed to think. He continued to watch the room and the attendees. Alec caught a serpentine warlock stare at him; it licked its scaly lips with a forked tongue. He returned the stare with a challenging smile. Over his lap, Magnus spoke with Kale in hushed tones that got lost in the murmur of the crowd. He caught the words not involved, subjugation, and stupid power play.
Finally, Jiruko Curse stepped into center stage to a low rumble of appreciation from the room. A bare stage with no sound equipment, the blue man stood in front of a red curtain. His voice rang out loud and clear. "Welcome, kindred souls!" A brief, deafening applause filled the space. The Magistrate grinned wide. "I am quite pleased at the turn out. The agenda for today's meeting is four speakers discussing the possible war against the Nephilim. One against war, one pro-war, Ms. Loss has a statement to give, and we have a special guest. The Clave has sent a Reparations Officer to address your grievances, and hopefully offer amends for the offences committed against our dear Catarina Loss who recently spent time detained in London."
The crowd exploded in an angry clamor. Their wrath slapped Alec in the face. Hot as acid and tangible enough to choke on he fought not to shrink into his seat. For several long minutes they poured their rage out at the young man. They hurled everything from death threats to promises of retribution. The length of time it took for the room to quiet down gave him a gauge for how unattainable peace would be. He figured the room was 70/30 for the war.
"Alec is not going on trial for every wrong performed by every member of the Clave!"
Kale snorted. "Course not, we don't have that kind of time."
Catarina hissed at them. "Shut up, the two of you, or I'll knock your heads together."
"It's fine." Alec shushed. "Magnus, it's fine."
The angry cat-eyes darted from Kale to him. "You can't be serious."
"Reparations to Catarina are why I am here. And I have to learn what the warlocks want and why they are going to war to communicate an accurate account to the Clave." Alec was sure he had faced worse things in life than an angry room of warlocks. Licking his lips he offered Magnus a small reassuring smile. He could handle this, if anyone let him.
"Point." Kale nodded to him. He nudged Magnus. "Angel cake has a good head on his shoulders; you ought to let him use it." He wiggled his eyebrows at Alec with a wink. "Sides, what's the worst that can happen?"
Magnus tensed tighter than Alec ever saw him. "You did not just curse us with that, did you?" He had never heard that pained tone in his boyfriend's voice before. "I don't like this; I don't like it at all."
Jiruko continued, "The final vote for the treaties as written with the Fey, Vampires, and Lycanthropes will be put to the floor. Lastly, for our ifrit brethren, we have exciting developments in the creation and implementation of stored spell casting. The potency decay rate and minimal recharge rate has been staggeringly approved upon. Dr. Ev'ress Jeer will fill you all in on that. For the war itself, send your comments and votes to your representative by the end of this moon cycle."
"What does he mean stored spells?" Alec edged closer to Magnus to ask.
To his surprise, Kale answered. "Holding spells in an object for later use. Like potions, only, with a wider range."
The idea took a moment to sink in. To hold a spell, any kind of spell, for instant access? Instant portal spell? Instant lightning bolt? Instant healing spell? Even for non-spellcasters? That would make even the ifrits a threat in a battle. Alec sat back, thinking. The Nephilim could use that, too. If the Clave would consent to using magic. He snorted. As if they had moral high ground to look down upon anyone.
As it turned out, the warlocks held no interest in talking about anything Alec could use. The first speaker tried to make a case to negotiate with the Clave, no one else would protect the mundanes or kill demons. For some reason, the warlocks weren't interested in protecting the mundanes or keeping demons from devouring the world in blood and fire. Being half human, Alec wondered why they didn't care. Or why a peaceable world meant nothing to them. Technically speaking, they all had to share planet Earth, right?
The second speaker opened the forum for all grievous sins committed by the Clave. Countless warlocks shouted their accusations at Alec who could say nothing in defense of the Nephilim, nor did he try. There were claims fabricated against the warlocks solely for the seizure of property. Drugs used in interrogations that resulted in addictions or death. Extreme punishments for Downworlders, that had the culprit been Nephilim, it would have amere slap on the wrist. Homes ransacked in search of propaganda proving alliance with Valentine. As if any Downworlder should side with a man that wanted to kill them all. Lovers brutally killed and trophies taken.
Alec sat through everything stone-faced. He had seen many great and many terrible things in this life. The Nephilim were an army. They lived by martial law. Soldiers weren't supposed to have compassion or hurt when they hear about the crimes other people suffer. Alec spent his life trying to be a good Shadowhunter. If he steadfastly ignored his churning stomach, Alec was fine. He felt sicker the more he listened. The shame he felt at the Nephilim's rampant bigotry skyrocketed exponentially the longer the meeting went on. His face turned completely white.
Finally Catarina stood, gliding her way toward the stage. She gave a blunt account of the hours spent in the London dungeon. The drugs, beatings, hallucinations, and the blessed cuffs that not only drained her magic, but drained her. In a few more hours she would have died. The certainty in her voice made Alec's heart clench. She looked at him, eyes a cool blue, in her white gown, a medieval princess. "I demand reparations."
Alec stood. "I do not doubt the veracity of your account, but in lieu of missing physical evidence, I will need three corroborating statements."
A dark skinned man, a human dark brown, stood off to Alec's left. He wore a simple black suit, bright yellow shirt, and a decorative tie. When he spoke, a gravelly voice turned rough with years of smoking. "I can testify to the severity and nature of the wounds sustained. I am Doctor Widmere Peccant."
From the first mezzanine, purring with a lilt of a French accent bellowed through the room. "I am Sage le Brazon." It belonged to the blond warlock with black and red eyed Magnus had pointed out earlier. "I took those monstrous chains off her."
Behind him, Magnus and Kale went back and forth in a small scuffle. Thankfully, Kale was the one that stood and laid claimed to the rescue mission itself.
"The Nephilim accused of these crimes are already dead." Alec had to wait for the cheering to stop. Catarina held up a hand to facilitate the quiet. "What more can you want?"
"My rescuers pardoned from any sentence their actions saving me would have earned."
Alec took a sharp breath. The Clave would never go for it. Thirteen dead and no one held accountable? Nephilim lives counted for more than Downworlder lives. Unfair, but that was the Law. His powers for handling reparations was limited, but his father had given him the job of just handling this case. Make it go away, he had said. Do whatever you need to, you have our support. Our support. Our, us, the Clave. Alec licked his lips. Thirteen dead. He didn't want Magnus killed for it, but the idea that no one would answer for their deaths? He couldn't believe it actually hurt to agree, even if it did save Magnus's life. What kind of boyfriend am I? "I… want to say yes," he grimaced.
"But?" She prompted.
"Pardons of that magnitude can only be granted by the Consul."
The house erupted in thousands of angry voices. The ground trembled. Something hit Alec in the back of his head, knocking him to the ground. He felt the nullify-magic runes burn away. Magnus shouted something that was quickly overcome by the sound of beating wings and thundering of feet and hooves against the floor. He dropped down to Alec, covering him from sight. "Are you alright?"
Alec touched the back of his head and came away with blood. His vision swam with the throbbing in his head but he forced himself to meet Magnus's eyes. "I-I'm ok." His runes blocked the spell. The force of it broke skin.
Magnus reached out and touched the wound. Anger flared in his eyes. "Stay down."
He ordered, rising to his feet and sending a scattering blue sparks across the atrium. For a moment it seemed like the world held its breath. Tension built, a pressure making it hard to breath, and then a whooshing rush of air.
The whoosh unleashed raging blast of heat. Covering his head, Alec took a large gulp of air. He glanced up. The winged warlocks overhead had scattered to the mezzanine rails. Catarina dove to the stage ground, Jiruko whipping a net spell of some kind over her. She rolled off the stage and landed on all fours next to Alec. Jiruko's magic spell shimmered around her in flickers of green and gold. A spell glanced off the net, only to disappear as Jiruko's spell ate the other one.
"We need a path!" Magnus shouted at Kale.
A chandelier burst sending bits of crystal and glass over them. Alec was grateful it wasn't the largest one in the center of the house.
The ground gave a shudder. Alec sank into the floor like his whole body had been filled with lead. He gasped again, the pressure cutting off his breath. Magnus gripped Alec under the arm and pulled him to his feet. At the warlock's touch the compression sensation lessened and he sucked in air noisily.
The crowd slung spells downward in the general vicinity of Alec. Several of the High Warlocks deflected spells back. A harsh clash of colors spread overhead in screamed in protest. Hot and cold clashed in a torrent of steam. Electricity crackled through the air. Something bright flew directly at them but smashed and splattered against the blue tinted shield Magnus formed around them. Catarina stayed close.
Kale rubbed his hands together. A gleeful grin split his face. Energy flung from his hands across the opera house knocking a nearby warlock off his feet.
"Without bringing the whole bloody place down!" Catarina shouted at him.
Alec lost part of their conversation. The screaming and shouting and power being flung around the room too fast to track took his immediate attention. He ducked, pulling Magnus down as he dodged an incoming attack.
"A path?" Kale laughed. "I'll do you one better!" He clapped his hands together, a thunderous roar and all movement ceased. In the shockwave of silence, a crystalline stillness came over Alec. He could see Jiruko Curse on the stage, arms extended, a shimmering green dome over him. The bat-winged warlocks mid-air, wings spread wide, clawed at one another. High Warlocks mid-cast, their faces twisted in anger. Then warlock after warlock floated up, the gravity in the auditorium suddenly gone. Kale let out another deafening clap. A torrent flung the now airborne sorcerers in piles to the walls.
Not one to look a gift-horse in the mouth, Magnus grabbed Alec and hauled him down the aisle. Even gravity-less and heaped together, angry casters threw spells at them.
Kale deflected something slithering and disgusting that poured towards them, snatching pieces of Catarina's hair.
They cleared the doors to the lobby. Magnus put Alec in Catarina's hands. "Go!"
Magnus gave him another push.
"What about you?"
"I'll be right behind you!"
Alec wanted to argue further but Catarina pulled and the two were off. They ran outside, dodging mundane pedestrians, to Kale's cherry red 1958 Dodge Dart. Alec knew what kind of car it was and what that meant because on the drive over, the warlock made certain everyone properly appreciated the vehicle before allowing them entry. The blue sorceress yanked him behind the trunk to hide. It took several moments for him to hear things other than the sound of blood rushing through his ears. "Where is he? Where are they?" He panted.
"Give them a minute." Catarina's eyes stayed glued to the doors as warlocks came spilling out. "There."
Kale came strutting out of the building, Magnus close on his heels. A warlock came up behind them but Kale cracked his fist into its face without even turning around. The two of them strode toward the car side by side.
Alec's heart gave a leap of joy at the sight of Magnus. He couldn't see any obvious signs of injury but as soon as his boyfriend was close enough to grab he launched himself at him. "What was that?" Alec demanded, clutched the shoulder of Magnus's coat.
Kale beamed at Catarina who shoved him away. "Nice of you to join us."
"Did you see that?" Kale was grinning like he'd just won the lottery, eyes bright with adrenaline. He gave a cheeky smile. "And I didn't even bring down the building! Just like you asked."
Magnus blinked at Alec. "What?"
He gripped the cloth tighter, "What did you stay for? What if something happened to you and I wasn't there?"
"I had to take care of something," Magnus reached out to touch Alec's head. "You're bleeding, darling."
"I'm always bleeding!" He snapped. Now that he mentioned the wound, it hurt. Just a cut, but he could feel the blood trickle down his neck. Head wounds bled profusely.
"As much as I'd love to stand around and reenact the Young and the Restless, we may want to, you know, go, before someone realizes we're still here?" Kale said, gesturing to the car.
"As much as it pains me to do so, I have to agree with Kale on this one." Catarina said. She gestured for Magnus to get in the passenger side. "I'll ride in back with Alec and take a look at that wound."
"Good idea." Kale shuddered. "I don't want any jizz on my seats."
Alec opened his mouth to argue, "I'm fine."
Catarina shoved him into the backseat. "It wasn't a request."
The ride back to Magnus's apartment was awkward. Catarina healed the cut, declaring it superficial despite the copious amounts of blood. Kale's backseat needed a cleaning anyway. Alec thanked her for the help. Upon arriving back at the sanctity of Magnus's apartment, however, he couldn't bring himself to discuss the fiasco. He changed to clean clothes and sat on Magnus's giant purple velvet couch completely numb. Catarina set a tea tray down and handed him a cup.
Kale popped open a beer and collapsed next to Catarina. His arm stretched out on the back of the couch, behind her. "Well, that could have gone better."
Alec accepted the tea with an attempt at a smile. "Thank you." He took a sip, hoping it would help focus his mind. There wasn't any other way out that he could see, so he went forward. "Did… you have any other requests?"
She blinked at him and checked in with Magnus. Alec did not need his boyfriend's permission to do his job.
"I can send the pardon request in, but… I don't have the power to just write off their deaths. If it'll help keep this war from happening, maybe, but I doubt it. I am sorry, Catarina, truly. I want to—"
"I understand the Law, Alec." She stopped his rambling. "Their pardons and a wergild for the humans killed in the battle are my demands."
"Humans?" It took the young man a second to realize she meant the mundanes killed from the earthquake. "We can't create earthquakes. But-" He looked at Kale. "It takes two to fight. We split it, between us."
"Hey, now—"
"Agreed." Catarina cut him off. She held up her cup in a salute that Alec returned.
Alec tuned out the rest of their conversation, staring out the window. The mundane world went to and fro down below. Yellow cabs rushing people to work, to play, to a friend's house. They had no idea what was coming. It was his job to keep it that way. Sipping his tea, the Shadowhunter repeated to himself, we are dust and shadows. Rubbing his forehead, he sighed heavily. He felt a presence behind him and knew it was Magnus before the scent of his cologne hit him. Looking over his shoulder, he was surprised to find them alone. "Where-?"
"Kale took Catarina out. With any luck, he'll stay at her place tonight." The warm line of Magnus's body pressed against his back.
"You think? She barely seems to tolerate him." Alec set his cold tea down on the glass coffee table.
Kissing up Alec's shoulder, he murmured, "He can be almost as charming as me, when he wants to be." Snaking an arm around Alec's stomach, Magnus tugged the younger man against him. "You okay?"
Alec swallowed hard. "Not really." He settled into the embrace. "I don't get—Why doesn't anyone care about the mundanes but us? I mean, warlocks are half human, too. "He didn't expect an answer. He started slowly, unsure he should even share this bit of his past. "When I was little, I used to wonder why we didn't do more for the warlocks. I mean, our sole purpose in existence is to protect mundane humans from demons. The fact that warlocks exist at all—means we failed. We had failed a woman somewhere in the world. Why didn't we do more? I asked my mother that once, I think it was the only time she'd ever hit me outside of training." He studied his hands forlornly. "But… I realized at the Coven meeting, I've got that completely wrong, don't I? We failed her and then failed you with condemnation for your heritage. But, you don't want our sympathy. Pity is almost as bad as prejudice; they both make you less than you are. And you don't need it. You are very strong and very independent."
Magnus laid a kiss on the shoulder before him. After a moment of silence, he said, "My childhood self thanks you for your compassion."
Alec looked back at his boyfriend skeptically. It sounded completely sincere. Yet he couldn't shake the feeling he was being made fun of. To his credit, Magnus tried very hard to keep a straight face. He managed to only twitch his lips twice. But then Alec smirked and they dissolved into laughter. "I know, it sounds stupid."
"No," Magnus said, laughter petering out. "No, it doesn't sound stupid. Simplistic, maybe, idealistic, sure. But really, darling, the entire world is not your fault. We appreciate that you are the thin black line that keeps many of the demons out, but there wasn't anything anyone could have done to stop my father from tricking my mother." He kissed the shoulder again, "Don't feel guilty you Nephilim aren't perfect, angel blood or no."
His words hit Alec like a knife through his heart. Perfect. He choked on the word. The Nephilim had fallen very far from grace. He jerked away, turning his head to stare out the window.
"Alec…?"
This is not worse than dying of demon poison. He reminded himself. The young Shadowhunter couldn't quite bring himself to believe it this time. "I think they expected that to happen." Alec crossed his arms over the back of the couch and propped his chin on his forearms. Looking back at his boyfriend, he clarified, "At the Coven meeting. I think they sent me there to die."
Magnus reach out to touch him but Alec shied away.
"It sounded so believable, didn't it? Angel, I'm such a…" His lips twisted into a sardonic smile. A bitterness filled his throat, making his face tight. "The Clave wanting someone on the inside to help negotiate… promising to let me keep my marks like they were doing me a favor." Alec chewed his bottom lip. "I wanted to believe. In us. In the Clave. In the Law. In helping them and you."
"No one can fault you for that." Magnus laid his head down to stare back over the purple fluff.
Alec let out a breath caught between a laugh and a cry. He could see his entire world crumble before him. "Fault doesn't mean anything when you're dead."
"Neither does wanting to help." He was grateful Magnus did not bring up the idea of running away again.
"It is a terrible time to add another war. Half the Clave wanted to support Valentine. Two dozen of them left with Jonathan. We have never been more divided than we are now. We can't afford another war. The Shadowhunters left don't want to right any wrongs or form alliances. They just want the absolute power they had back." He sat up with a sigh. "And…they sent me in there like a fool to be slaughtered to make you look like monsters… when we have been the monsters along."
Magnus kissed the spot Alec's the bicep he rested his chin on. "With regret, I say to you, I have no ready solutions for this problem. I have been alive for centuries and all I can say is you cannot save someone from themselves." He held up a finger to stop Alec's protesting. "My darling love, you are not a monster. I have known monsters, some of them have even been Nephilim, but you, my dear, are not."
"Weren't you listening?" Alec stared into his green eyes. "Everything those warlocks claimed is true. All of it."
"Some of those statements came from before the Accords, Alec."
No, they didn't. Alec closed his eyes, pained. Tea churned in his stomach, threatening to come up. Face it like a man. Do not cry. Do not cry. Swallowing hard, he dug his fingers into his forearms, hard. "No, Magnus," his voice became a harsh whisper. "The Accords—don't—aren't—"
Magnus reached out to touch him. "Alec…"
"You don't understand—please," He pleaded. He kept so many secrets for so long, yet this knowledge ate at him worse than any poison. Who could he confide in? Jace? Izzy? He couldn't drag them into this mess. "The drugs, and the demonic contracts, and the fabricated investigations—even, Angel forgive me—trophies." He squeezed his eyes shut as two tear drops fell from his eyes. "I found… in Idris..."
"You don't have to, Alec." Magnus interjected. "Darling, please."
"My family, Magnus." He pushed away from the warlock, unable to stand the compassion in those eyes, he didn't deserve it. Silence was complicity. "In the basement, I found… My father has—has a cabinet..." He ran a hand through his hair, wincing as his nails brushed over the tender spot Catarina just healed. "I don't know when he... he has things—these—awful things— " Alec looked everywhere but at the warlock seated next to him. He didn't even realize he was crying until the water hit the back of his hands. "Angel forgive me, I couldn't kill him for it…"
"Alec, please..." Magnus pleaded.
Alec ignored him. He had to let this out. "There were pieces… Scales… and horns… and hooves… Teeth…" He squeezed his eyes shut trying to block out the images but they were ingrained in his mind, he would dream about them forever. "And eyes… I knew—them—who they belonged to—or in? I don't—even know how to…"
"Enough, Alexander…" Magnus pleaded. "Do not do this to yourself."
Burying his face in his hands, Alec rocked in his seat. "I couldn't kill him. I couldn't do it. I'm so sorry. I should have… and then he started talking about sacrificing you to the Clave and I…" His voice faltered and failed. He couldn't speak any more.
"As wise young man once told me," a warm hand rested lightly on his back, "That you cannot control the actions of others." The words earned a few moments of silence. "Your father's sin are not your fault. Do not feel guilty for not slaying the man, whatever else he may be, he is still your father. Jace couldn't kill Valentine, either. And I couldn't kill mine."
Alec exhaled slowly.
Magnus pulled him into his arms, holding him tightly. "Sweetheart, it's okay."
Alec grabbed the arm across his chest, holding it to him. "I haven't figured out what to do yet." His voice hoarse and soft. He felt another kiss dropped on his shoulder.
"You will." The warlock's set his chin on the shoulder, rubbing his forehead against Alec's ear.
He leaned against the touch. "I won't let him hurt you."
The sound of a smile crept into Magnus's voice. "I believe you. I can also help with that; having been alive for awhile, you know, taking care of myself." He teased.
It dawned on Alec that his boyfriend was not very good at dealing with heavy subjects. He avoided them. He waited them out. He made light of them, staying as unaffected as possible. He rarely confronted them. Except when it had to do with Alec, then he went straight at it. Whereas Alec found himself just the opposite. Deal with everything else, all the time head on, and leave himself, and regrettably his love for Magnus, dead last if he could bring himself to think about it at all. He wasn't sure if it made them a perfect fit or doomed to fail. Of course, he could always change. It wasn't easy and it wasn't a tangible goal, like getting ten perfect shots in a row, but if he could define it, he could do it. He could put Magnus and himself before the rest of the world. Now that he thought the words, Alecwas pretty sure that was what Jace and Clary kept doing. The two of them were a trainwreck, maybe that wasn't such a good idea. Like Magnus said, he should stick to being Alec. And Alec was insecure, emotional, cautious, and utterly in love with his warlock. "I'm sorry," he whispered.
"For what?" Worry crept back into Magnus's voice.
"For dragging you into this," He looked over at the man he loved. They'd been back together for three days. He loved him. But did he love him enough to exile himself from the Clave? Did he love him enough to side with the Downworlders and raise a sword against his people? Did he love him enough that if the Warlocks lost, would he keep him safe at the cost of his own honor and self-respect? It wasn't like his position among the Nephilim could get any lower. If he didn't stop evil when he saw it, he couldn't count himself exactly honorable. Alec found he would raise his sword against his own people for their betrayal. And he would take exile with Magnus, if it came to that. It would hurt to be useless, unable to protect his world. But the last five months of solitude taught him in stark clarity, the man in front of him was his world.
"I went willingly." Magnus stood and offered him a hand. He pulled Alec from the sofa with a smile. Gesturing to the ceiling, the lights dropped to nearly nothing. He looked up to see a starry sky and sliver of a crescent moon. The fire from the table glowed a warm, friendly blue flame. With a snap of his fingers, violin music drifted softly through the room. "There have been too many ugly things today," his cat eyes shone back, blazing in the dark. "Dance with me. Be with me here, now, so I have one beautiful thing this day."
Alec leaned up and kissed him softly. A whisper and promise brushing skin to skin. He let Magnus spin him around the room, trusting his lead. Exhilaration filled him as came back to his arms. Together, apart, up, lean back, and turn, they ran through dances from every century. Precise, measured steps led into slow turns, cheek to cheek. Breathing heavy from work, Alec's mind had cleared, focusing only on coming back to Magnus's hands. They collided in a passionate kiss.
Magnus dipped him back, never relenting. The long line of his body stretched above, connected from mouth to knee, desire aching through. Kissing his way down to Alec's throat, he panted feverishly, "Say yes."
"Slowly," Alec's whisper hitched, burying a hand in Magnus's soft hair, encouraging. A trail of electric fire blazed through him.
Magnus's eloquent response was to kiss him so softly, gently, lovingly, it brought tears to his eyes. He melted into the sweetness of the kiss. A pale, pink sky swept over New York before they let go.
