Author's Note: I have changed the last half of the chapter. Please read the updated version, as it will make Chapter 11 make much more sense.

Chapter 10: Wild White Women

"Well, that was entirely useless," Cecily said as she threw herself across a wing backed chair in the Institute's drawing room. It was a very Will-like action and as Magnus took a seat on the chaise, he found himself thinking about Edmund Herondale's restless energy. He'd always thought that Will's behavior was something learned as a by product of the not-a-curse, but watching Cecily made him think that it might just be something in the Herondale blood.

"That's not true," Gabriel retorted. "We saw your brother get knocked on his ass and that was quite delightful."

Cecily glared at him, lurching up in her seat as if she were about to strike out, but before she could, Gideon walked in and smacked his brother across the back of the head. It was a good natured blow, the kind that brothers dole out to each other on a regular basis, but the expression on Gabriel's face said it had hurt nonetheless.

"Don't forget, brother, that it's our responsibility to ensure he's not put into that situation again," Gideon said calmly as he took a seat by the fire.

Cecily smirked in Gabriel's direction and settled back into her chair without adding to the reprimand. The Branwells filed in after Gideon, followed by a maid carrying a tray tea things. Magnus noted the way that the elder Lightwood's eyes followed her as she arranged the tray on a side table and departed with a curtsy. Gideon stared at the door for a full minute after she left. Magnus felt a dull stab of worry watching the boy who was obviously in love with a mundane girl. After a brief moment, he determined that he'd simply spent too much time thinking about Edmund Herondale lately and put it out of his mind.

"So, what did you learn?" Charlotte asked, taking charge of the situation as she poured the tea. Magnus had never actually been in the Institute's drawing room and, upon looking about the room, was rather disenchanted with it's lack of color. Charlotte in her bland dress nearly blended in with the austere furnishings. He again mourned that she would likely never wear the jewel tones that would give her skin some color.

"Cecily is right, ma'am," Gideon said. Apparently he was paying more attention to what was going on in the room than he'd actually appeared to be. "We learned precious little."

Charlotte faltered a little as she handle Magnus a cup of tea. She was close enough for him to see the tears rise in her eyes and the way that she batted them away quickly. She was a very strong lady, in spite of her birdlike stature and pathetic fashion sense, and she also truly loved her Shadowhunters. The fact that two of them weren't safe was visibly distressing to her. Magnus found himself wanting to reassure her.

"That's not entirely true," he began. Suddenly, all eyes in the room were on him. "I did hear whispers of a masque occurring on Halloween on our way out. The Pandemonium Club's throwing it as a way to garner more clients."

"It's the perfect opportunity," Gabriel said, leaning forward so his elbows rested on his knees, his face alight with excitement. "We can waltz right in and grab them. The Accords are on our side. They can't stop us."

"If it were that easy, we would have done that tonight." Gideon interjected. "Do you really think that we will be allowed to just take them?"

"But the Accords-"

"Don't mean a damn thing to the people who kidnapped your Shadowhunters," Magnus said, suddenly tired, as he always was whenever the Accords came up. He supposed Gabriel's naive faith in the Accords might have been endearing in a different circumstances, but right now it was just irritating. "If they are bold enough to kidnap Nephilim, they aren't going to care about the strength of the Accords and waltzing into this fete and expecting them to behave themselves because you're Shadowhunters isn't going to go over well."

"But we could sneak ourselves into the party, couldn't we?" Cecily asked. "It's a masque, after all, everyone will be in costume. We can disguise ourselves and learn more about the Pandemonium Club. Feel out their weaknesses, learn more about where the fighters are kept."

Magnus raised his eyebrows. He hadn't gotten that far strategically, but it wasn't a bad idea. In theory, it would be easy enough, especially if he could convince Camille to join them. His gaze slid over to Charlotte, knowing that she would be the one to approve moving forward with this plan. She contemplated this in silence, a tiny frown creasing her forehead. Her husband, who'd been watching her quietly the whole time, took her hand.

"I can't think of a better idea," he said. She looked up at him and they held each other's gaze for a long moment. These two made an interesting study, Magnus thought. They loved each other, that much was obvious, but they didn't seem to know how to express it properly. It was an odd thing to observe. But then, he'd met Granville Fairchild and was surprised that his daughter had learned anything of love growing up in his household.

"Neither can I," she finally said and turned to Magnus. "How do we get in?"

"That shouldn't be too difficult," Magnus said. He was growing a little excited at the prospect of a good party. He had the perfect ensemble for the occasion. "A little bit of forgery here, a few glamours there, and you should be fine. The Pandemonium Club caters to many mundanes. It wouldn't be too out of the ordinary for me to bring a couple of young, wealthy and idiotic mundanes with me to the party...Provided I get invited." The whispers he'd heard had said that the event was to be hosted by Alexi de Quincey. It would be easier if that were the case, given his connection to Camille.

"A couple of us on the inside won't do much good if they figure out that we're Nephilim," Gideon stated. "How will we get out if there's a problem?"

"We?" Magnus all but gasped. "You think that I'd escort you to this thing?" It was a little rude and unconstructive, yes, but honestly, anyone with eyes would know that there was no way Magnus would prefer sandy-haired, green-eyed

Gideon. "You're not my type at all."

"He's right, Cecily said, a little saucily. "You're very dull, Gideon. Magnus is far too charismatic to take you to a masque. I'll go."

The words were barely out of her mouth before Gabriel was on his feet and shouting, "Absolutely not!"

Entirely unfazed, Cecily ignored Gabriel and turned to Charlotte and Henry. "I'm least likely to be recognized. I don't have many Marks on me yet, so I won't need a glamour. And it's my brother. Charlotte, please."

"She makes a good point," Charlotte said gently, looking past Cecily at Gabriel, who'd turned very red. "Several of them, actually." She turned back to Cecily. "But Gabriel should go with you too. I'm sure Magnus can figure out a way to appear natural in the company of young newlyweds."

Now Cecily's face was also bright red and Gabriel's jaw had nearly dislocated itself, it had dropped so far. Charlotte was smiling a tiny smile, inspite of her worry. Henry seemed to be the only one in the room who was unaware of Gabriel's feelings for the Herondale girl. Henry smiled broadly and patted his wife's hand, "That's a nice touch, Lottie. Good idea. It's sure to fool them."

Charlotte smiled wryly back at him, shaking her head, "Thank you, darling."

"I am not dull," Gideon finally said. "Someone has to be the voice of reason with you two and as your instructor, I have to take certain things seriously. For example, right now, I have to be the one to ask again, what happens if they are discovered? How will we get them out?"

"The Sensor!" Henry cried. "It's been ready for months now!"

There was an immediate outcry from all of the Nephilim present. As much as he knew he ought to be paying attention to what they were talking about, Magnus found himself tuning the ensuing conversation out. He had more important things to think about, like accent colors and whether or not he could design a mask that mimicked a cat's face.

Cecily's black and white costume was stunning, made even more so by the way her black hair stood out against her white skin. If this were any other ball, Gabriel would have gone to great lengths to ensure that her dance card only had his name on it, no matter how rude it might seem. He'd been anxious to get this over with on the way down from his room, but now he spent a full minute staring at the way the moonlight slid over the exposed skin of her shoulder and thinking about how foolhardy she was to be waiting outdoors on the last night of October with only a flimsy wrap.

He could sense the excitement pulsing off of her. It was her first mission after all, and she had talked of nothing else for the last three days. She'd come up with code words for every possible situation under the sun. She'd worn a similar gown to the training room and made him spar with her until she was certain she could move like a Shadowhunter in spite of the crinolines and high heeled shoes. She'd worked with Sophie to create clever little hairpins that were needle sharp and dipped in poison. She'd hadn't listened when he tried to convince her that such lengths were unnecessary for a reconnaissance mission.

"I'll do whatever it takes to get my brother back," she said, after he'd teased her about the small stilettos she'd had sewn into the forearms of her gloves and he hadn't said another word. If their situations were reversed he would have done the same thing.

"You look lovely, wife" he said as he approached her.

He'd meant to keep his tone light, but the words had come out far more seriously than he'd intended, as if he were truly speaking to her as his wife. Heat coursed through his face. She spun towards him, her skirts fanning out around her and, in the moonlight he could see her cheeks coloring too. For once, she was speechless. Will Herondale would kill Gabriel for the thoughts he was thinking about his sister.

"It's a shame that anyone who stands too close to you is likely to get skewered." Again, his voice betrayed him and the joke fell flat. She closed the distance between them, filling his nose with the scent of her hair, leaned in and breathed in his ear:

"Only if I want them skewered."

It took a full minute for him to work around the haze of feeling her warm breath in his ear to realize what she'd said. By the time he did, Magnus Bane's carriage was pulling up to the Institute and his footmen were helping Cecily into it. She stopped at the top of the carriage steps to look over her pale shoulder at him.

"Are you coming or not, husband?"