Setting his cell phone down en route to the door, Magnus passed his ringed fingers over the crown of spikes – just to enjoy the tickle of barely unsettling the ends. He loved any attention to his scalp.
Through the wood of the door, his nostrils alerted him to the scent of another warlock. His 5:00 (or 5:30, depending on how you look at it) was supposed to be a young witch, in need of advise on a particularly tricky spell. He had briefly considered taking it on as charity, but if the word got out, he'd find himself perpetually screwed by others in the magical community in need of some pro bono advice.
But it wasn't a girl he saw through the peephole – but a man with flaming red hair in dire need of a brush. He was dropping leaves and probably dirt right there in his entryway.
Frowning, Magnus debated opening the door. It would be stupid to think a thin layer of wood and metal would matter. It rarely stopped him from entering a place, even if he was unwanted.
Lips pursed, he unlatched the door and opened it, then his brows shot up.
"A projection?" Magnus inquired, leaning into his doorframe while looking down his nose at the other warlock. "Did you think I wouldn't guess?"
The semi-sheer, shimmering projection of Daniel Wyrick smirked. "No. But I couldn't make it in the flesh. Sorry."
"The travel time?"
Daniel shook his head, still smiling. "No cheating. You know I have no intention of making it easier for you."
"I figured that out when the first ten tries didn't work," Magnus said with a frown, though the statement was part-frustration, part respect – after all, anyone that could evade him this well knew what they were about. He'd exhausted just about every location spell he knew. And a number he'd made up.
"Are you my 5:00?"
"I made the appointment."
"The only advise I have for you is to—"
"Turn myself in?" Wyrick interrupted, head tilted to one side.
"I was going to say, find a way of spontaneously combusting. Before the shadowhunters find you."
"Ohhh, I'm so scared. It's sweet that you're handing out threats on their behalf, though."
"It was a friendly warning."
"And I thank you. But I'm not worried."
"You're bleeding," Magnus pointed out, noticing the stain in the warlock's t-shirt.
Daniel sighed. "I've already bled through three shirts. And it itches like a bitch."
"Maybe it's infected."
"Doubtful." He was remembering the very painful disinfecting he'd received from Alec. And his own attempts to treat the wound. But it wasn't healing properly. He couldn't even heal himself, courtesy of being on the wrong end of a seraph blade. It wasn't just a puncture wound; it was backed by the power of the Angel, and it was eating away at his half-demon flesh. It was a slow, agonizing process, though he tried to keep the pain from showing.
"What do you want?" Magnus inquired, bored. He probably shouldn't be conversing with the warlock on principle – but he was hoping to get something of use out of the conversation. And so he endured the indignation, and hoped Alec would understand.
"Holy Father, I have sinned. Will you hear my confession?" Daniel asked, looking up from his lashes with a look of soft contrition. It might have almost been believable if his mouth hadn't twitched.
"I'm a High Warlock, not a priest. And I don't service wanted criminals." In fact, he was pretty sure the law forbade it.
"So does that mean I can't come in?" Wyrick asked, still in his soft voice.
"I'd rather you leave."
"No, you don't. I've made your day."
"You're monopolizing my time."
"I'm not going to talk to you standing out here on the stairwell. So we waste more time."
"Technically, you're not standing anywhere near my apartment. Where are you?"
"Good one," Daniel complimented, taking a step forward.
"Fine," Magnus said, reluctantly stepping aside. "But don't touch anything."
Wyrick breezed past him, his projection walking silently into the flat and looking around the wide, open, and mostly empty space.
"So this is how the other half lives," he muttered, probably imagining his own place.
"Queens is a dump," Magnus retorted, closing the door and leaning into it.
"Brooklyn smells like shit on a good day," Daniel replied, back still turned to him.
"I didn't notice."
"Especially when it's overcast."
"Whereas Queens is an undesirable place, regardless of the weather."
"I miss it."
"Then why don't you go home?"
"Not possible, at the moment."
"If you don't turn yourself in, you won't ever be able to go back."
"Then I'll get over it. I'll rent a shitty apartment somewhere else."
"They won't give up, just because you've moved."
"No. But I'll have some time to think."
"So you don't plan on attacking the shadowhunters for sport?"
"I can work on relocating and my Evil Plan at the same time."
"That's so tacky," Magnus replied, trying to sound flippant and sarcastic, concealing his tightening fist behind his back.
"What's that?" Daniel Wyrick replied politely, moving as if to take a seat on the couch, but remembering Magnus's warning. He stood in front of it, glancing over his shoulder at the other warlock.
"You could just make a clean getaway and focus your energy on hiding. If you come back to hurt them, you'll be caught in the process. That's always how it works. Get close enough, and you'll slip up."
"See, I don't agree. I think I'll make out just fine. And I won't be able to move on properly until I've finished here."
"What would it serve?" Magnus said in a reasonable, persuasive tone, approaching the projection. "You're thinking about the small picture. But if you move against a handful of shadowhunters, you will be starting something a lot bigger than you planned."
Wyrick shrugged. "So I piss off the lot of them. I can still sleep at night."
"But for how long?"
"You tell me."
"Do you want me to read your palm?"
"Why don't you call up your boyfriend and let him know I've dropped in for a visit?"
"So you can taunt him and disappear?"
"Sounds like fun, doesn't it?"
"Sounds like a waste of time. And so is this conversation. I do have another appointment in twenty minutes."
" 'Course. Don't want to keep you."
"Appreciate that," Magnus drawled, sneering.
"But before I head out, I was wondering. How long have you been involved with your barely legal shadowhunter?"
"Sorry. I've got my work-face on. I don't feel like discussing my private life."
"I was with Justin for two years," Wyrick admitted, the smallest pucker between his eyebrows.
"The mundane?"
He nodded, jaw tightening. "He played the bass. And he wrote really bad poetry. But he had the best smell. It didn't matter if it was ninety degrees outside, and he'd taken the subway. He still smelled so good."
Magnus didn't comment, crossing his arms over his chest.
"I'm starting to forget what he smelled like. And I can't curl up in bed with his smell anymore. I can't flip through his journals, or touch his guitar because I'm nowhere near Queens - and wanted as a criminal by both worlds."
"You are a criminal," Magnus replied in a flat tone.
"I've done nothing that you wouldn't do if you had to watch him die!" Wyrick seethed, his pale face flush with anger.
"My condolences. Your pain is understandable. But your anger is misguided. You're making all the wrong choices."
"Because I don't want to rot away in the Gard? I would have been railroaded, even before I defended myself in my own home. That's how it works. There's no justice for us."
"That's a medieval way of looking at it."
"It's realistic. You're still of use to them. But if you weren't their errand boy, and you fell under suspicion for something, they'd come for you too."
"And I'd cooperate."
"Because you've naïve enough to think it'd end up in your favor."
"Because I'm not stupid enough to challenge the Clave," Magnus said with annoyance.
"Well, criminal does have a better ring to it than coward," Wyrick retorted with a snicker.
"Don't forget insane," Magnus replied, ignoring the jab.
Daniel Wyrick glared at Magnus. They both turned their heads reflexively at the sound of the buzzer.
"Why don't you tell me how rational you are after the blue-eyed Nephilim takes his last breath."
Magnus balled his fists again, but he tried to remain calm – unwilling to give the other warlock the satisfaction.
"I have this feeling he'll be around longer than you."
Daniel laughed behind closed lips, shrugging. "If it comforts you."
"Get out of my house," Magnus growled. Then he waved his hand angrily, dispelling the projection. The warlock promptly disappeared from his living room.
Thank you, readers and reviewers!
Methinks there may be more Magnus and Alec in the next chapter. Like in the same room, at the same time...
MagnusSpark, you inspired this chapter. Go team.
Some Things Don't Have to End: What happened to thy long reviews? And where hath Charlotte-LOVE- gone? I'm freaking out, anon. Hence the bad quasi-Shakespearean lingo.
OmgADot: I love that you keep up with more than one story. I do feel loved.
icaughtkira: Love reading your reviews. Keep them coming and I will strive to impress you! Can't promise Alec in a french maid costume -- although I have the EXACT image stuck in my head for all of five very silly seconds. I didn't put it down.
Awesomesauce123: I guess you're my new FFGF (but only until my steady one is less busy, mmk? No hard feelings).
RomanticFaerie, Catharine, LA-EL-AS, Hikoru Aniki, Katara-Alechemist (HEART!), Taiyoukai89, lynxzpanther, magic_noctum, magical-archer, Lallie Owesome, Writers Cubed Jocelyn, Full Destiny -- thank you for keeping up with the story. It makes me happy to know I haven't lost you.
I know there's more, but I really want to get this up already. Had to wait all day, because I can't login to FF anymore from work. Enjoy!
-ARIVIAND