Chapter 9: The Mark of Cain
A silence had settled into the flat broken only by the shallow breathing of the man he had come to love more than himself. Every night since Alliance had played out much the same. Alec slept growing weaker with each draw of air and Magnus poured every ounce of himself into his books and papers and hidden magical scrolls trying to find a cure, some way to break the rune, or better yet, some way to fix the rune. Because unlike the Clave, Magnus had understood Clary's position. He did not waste a second of his time blaming her. He was in fact somewhat convinced that she might be the answer to the problem. But, with her life in danger, she could not afford to come out of hiding. The Clave had always been a collective idiocy he could never quite get on board with. He sighed with frustration as he tossed another book into the "absolutely no help whatsoever" pile. He paused long enough to look up at the door which stood slightly ajar to the bedroom. In and hour or so, when the first tendrils of light began to announce the dawn, he would climb into bed beside Alec, who slept like a child with one arm slung under the pillow, propped onto his side. And then he would finally give way to a few fitful hours of sleep, his body pressed tightly against Alec's back…in case, the rhythmic pulse of his body should suddenly cease. He did not doubt that it would wake him. If Alec stopped breathing, he would know. The thought choked him and he unconsciously gripped the next volume of spells so tight his knuckles whitened.
What would he do if Alec died? Magnus turned his head at the thought as if the movement would somehow expel the tears welling at the thought. People often thought that Magnus was emotionless, a mercenary to his own pleasures and desires. And Magnus liked it that way. It had been years, many, many empty years dead as fall leaves, since he had let himself feel this way. He had been the wise observer. The lone voyeur who watched the silly happenings of the mere mortals and their trivial emotions because he knew the kind of pain that those caused. And yet, somehow this slip of a man, still yet half boy had changed everything. Now he sat helpless and afraid, full of emotion, and terrified that he had wasted too much time. Wasted too many years with his cynicism and Alec would be taken from him as punishment. But no, if there was anything that Magnus knew how to do it was how to cheat death. And he would not let that happen.
The creature was drawn to him. He could smell his weakness as a lioness sniffs out blood. It was decadent, even succulent like wine. Shadowhunter blood. The bloodthirst strangled him with desire. Madness held him prisoner. He was the first. An alpha. Given to unnatural desires, for example, like the desire to snatch the Lightwood boy up between his clawed hands and suck out the life force. Vampires had become more genteel in their killing after centuries of it. But he preferred the grisly old ways. The tearing flesh, and the sinking fangs that tore like a carnivore's canines-it tasted better that way. He was the master of murder. He had perfected it. He had given the Washer-Woman the vicious scars she couldn't scrub out. The ones that had driven her insane. He had killed only half of little Celia. Let the other half live out of sheer cruelty. But Lightwood would be different. He would be a necessity.
He was not good at stealth, but he could be patient. He'd waited hundreds and hundreds of years for this. Hundreds and hundreds of years for this kind of release. There was only one real threat and that was the centuries old warlock in the other room. Fatigue made that one weak. But, there was a primal, animalistic power that gave the creature pause as he sniffed the air around the room. Alec's shallow breathing fueled his hunger as though he wanted to make love to him. The creature unfurled its body and staggered, half-formed and disjointed over to the bed. Alec's dark hair in the moonlight look like spun silk, and the creatures talon's trembled in excitation as he brushed it back from the gently pulsing throb beneath his ear. Quietly. Ever so quietly. Long ago, he'd leered over the body of his brother in the same way, his fingers knuckle deep in blood, as he bent his head low, the sweet, soothing memory came rushing back. He was Cain. And he was finally free.
A/N: SO! I've finally got everything rolling, and now you guys have a pretty good idea of where I am going with this…or do you? Lol.
A couple of things: One, I'd really like to take the time to say thank you to all of you quiet, but nonetheless appreciated people who added me to your alerts/favorites. That is so flattering. I really appreciate it so much!
Two, so it looks like I'm going to be pairing up with yet another friend of mine to write a Batman and X-men EPIC fanfic. Lol…actually, Our plan as of right now is to have an independent Batman fic, an independent Xmen fic, and finally a crossover fic that wraps up the conflict. So if you grew up on the X-men (like me) or Batman (my new love) then please feel free to jump over and have a look at that in the future.
And finally, I'm an idiot. I asked you to follow me on tumblr-and didn't make it available to you! So please…please…please…catch up with me on tumblr, cause I'm always having tons of fun over there. (and I follow back cause I love new friends) So! That being said, FIND ME at sblevins. Tumblr. Com.
Also, reviews please? I need encouragement. Cause I like this idea but I'm afraid it's not going over well. Help me out? Pretty please?