The Ops Center was quieter than normal; other than Alec, there were only four Shadowhunters in the room. Nearly everyone else currently stationed at the New York Institute was on a mission led by Jace and Izzy.
Alec's people were currently tracking a Greater Demon. Intelligence suggested that it was Asmodeus they were after, and Alec had no reason to doubt Anastasia Snowhart. She was young, but she was brilliant, and her intel had never been wrong before.
Asmodeus had only come to the Clave's attention two weeks before, and New York had been dogging him ever since. According to what Ana had managed to scrounge together, as well as the meagre file the Clave had handed over, Asmodeus was a Greater Demon who was associated with lust. His victims certainly displayed such signs. He'd been making his way across New York for weeks – though it could have been months – and he'd left the mutilated bodies of dozens of Nephilim in his wake.
The Greater Demon had finally arrived within Alec's jurisdiction the day before. It had been unexpected: Alec and his people had been counting on a few more days to prepare, but two deaths in, and Alec had been forced to send Izzy and Jace out, two of the Institute's best teams at their backs, to track Asmodeus and prevent him from killing any more of their people.
His siblings had been gone for hours: they'd departed shortly after dawn – when Andrew Underhill and Lila Greenmantle had finally gotten a solid lead on Asmodeus' location – and it was long after nightfall now.
Alec had dismissed the majority of the Nephilim – Shadowhunter or not – still in the Institute hours ago, but he was too wound up to sleep, and so he'd been pacing the Ops Center since.
He had no doubt that the sound of his footsteps were irritating Elizabeth Silverhorn, who was extremely sound sensitive even when she wasn't focused single-mindedly on the monitors reporting the teams' vitals. Every time Alec walked past her station, her shoulders moved closer to her ears; her obvious discomfort was enough to stop him in his tracks until his anxiety got the better of him again.
Alec hated it when Jace went on patrols without him, let alone missions involving one of the Princes of Edom. It was hard to stay behind when both his sister and his parabatai were out risking their lives, but it was Alec's duty as Acting Head of the Institute to not put any one of his Shadowhunters above the others. That included his parabatai.
Not for the first time, he resented their parents for leaving him, Izzy, Max, and Jace behind while they did their business in Alicante.
"Sir!" Elizabeth barked, her tone frustrated. "Please stop pacing. I know you're worried, but you're making it difficult for the rest of us to do our jobs."
Alec ran his hand over his face and sighed. "Sorry."
Elizabeth looked embarrassed about her outburst, and softened her voice. "If you take a seat, you can come keep an eye on their vitals, sir. It might reassure you."
"Yeah, okay," Alec agreed, striding over to the screen in front of Elizabeth. A sudden burning pain coursed second-hand through his body; Alec's knees nearly gave out, and even gritting his teeth wasn't enough to trap the agonized sound that ripped itself from his throat.
"Sir!" Andrew shouted, darting forward to offer Alec his support. "What happened?"
"Jace," Alec managed to gasp just before the monitors began to indicate that there was a serious problem with the teams that had gone out that morning.
"Their vitals are all over the place!" Elizabeth said worriedly. Her fingers wrapped tightly around the edge of the table and her knuckles turned white. "Sir, we have to do something! We have to help them."
"Wake everyone up," Alec ordered, his voice strained. The pain he could feel through the parabatai bond was dulling. He wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not. "We're going to send out a team to bring them back."
"Yes, sir," Ana replied, not bothering to close the files she'd been poring over before sprinting towards the steps that led to the Institute's bedrooms.
"Sir," Lila said hesitantly, "the monitors indicate a sudden decrease in Demonic activity. It disappeared about the time everyone's vitals started…" she gestured wordlessly at the monitors, and at Alec himself, in description.
"Do you think that means they've killed him?" Alec wondered. He couldn't feel Jace's pain anymore. He hoped that meant that his parabatai was healed from whatever had happened, but he wasn't hopeful. For Jace's pain to have reached him at all, let alone to the degree that it had, meant that whatever had happened was dire. Alec's only consolation was that Jace wasn't dead yet. He hoped the same went for everyone else.
"I'm not sure," Lila shook her head. "It's possible, I suppose, but it's also possible that Asmodeus just disappeared. You know how Greater Demons are."
"Yeah," Alec sighed. "Unfortunately."
"We don't know where they are," Andrew whispered as all the Nephilim in the Institute began filing into the Ops Center.
"We'll track them," Alec replied gruffly. "Raziel willing, we'll find them. I swear it."
Alec was not in the habit of making vows he couldn't keep.
With the remaining Nephilim in the Ops Center, Alec pulled himself together. "As you all know," he began, "two of our finest teams went out this morning to track the Greater Demon Asmodeus, who has been wreaking havoc among the ranks of the Nephilim. There has been a complication; our teams are injured, and they require our assistance. I stand before you now, and I ask that the able-bodied Shadowhunters amongst you lend your aid."
As one, the Nephilim saluted before turning to prepare for the mission.
"Alec!" a familiar voice called.
Alec turned to see Max standing before him. "Hey, buddy," he said, forcing a smile for his little brother.
"I want to come," Max told him. "I can help."
Alec crouched down so that their eyes were level. "Max, you're not a trained Shadowhunter yet. It would be irresponsible of me to allow you to come with us, and I'm not willing to put you in danger. I need you to stay here, where it's safe."
"I can help," Max repeated.
"Max, this is a Greater Demon we're talking about. It hurt Jace and Izzy. It hurt everyone on those teams. I can't risk you, even if you can help."
"But Alec –" Max protested.
Alec interrupted him. "If you want to help, Max, then stay here. The best way to help me and Jace and Izzy is if you stay safe."
"But I can help you save them!"
"No, Max. Stay here. Mom and Dad will kill me if anything happens to you. Just… stay. Okay?"
"Fine," Max muttered mutinously. He turned and stalked out of the Ops Center, and Alec released a relieved breath. Raising children was hard work, and Alec was just trying to make sure that Max stayed safe while his parents were away. He didn't know how his parents had done it.
"Sir," Andrew said, drawing Alec's attention. "You should try to track them, now. The teams are almost ready."
Alec took a deep breath and nodded.
He tried tracking Izzy first, and when that failed he tried to find Jace. But their possessions told him nothing of their whereabouts.
"I can't find them," Alec admitted to Andrew.
Andrew frowned and suggested tentatively: "You can try tracking Jace through your parabatai bond."
Alec faltered. At best, if he tracked Jace through their bond, it would weaken them both; at worst, it would break their bond. But that was under normal circumstances. These weren't normal circumstances, and Alec had no way of knowing if Jace was strong enough to survive being tracked. It was possible that his brother was weak enough that Alec tracking him would kill him.
And if Jace died, Alec would lose part of his soul.
He had a choice to make, and no time to make it. Did he risk killing his parabatai to save all his people? Or did he give up on finding them and hope they made it back on their own so that it wouldn't be his parabatai's blood on his hands? Either way, it was very likely that someone would die. Was Jace's life worth more than the rest of his people, or was Alec willing to risk sacrificing part of himself to save everyone that was still alive?
Steeling himself, Alec nodded at Andrew. "Let's do this."
Though it had been his suggestion, Andrew's eyes widened. He didn't say anything, though, and soon enough Alec was sinking into his parabatai bond, trying to reach Jace.
His eyes snapped open. "They're outside," he whispered in relief. "Maybe a mile from the doors. Let's go."
Andrew nodded immediately, though his brow was furrowed. "Why couldn't you find them before?"
"Water," Alec answered briefly, leading his Shadowhunters out of the Institute and to where their injured teams were.
It turned out that the water his people were in was the river that was the sometimes entrance to the Seelie Realm. The river wasn't deep enough that any of the Shadowhunters were in danger of drowning, but it was enough to disrupt tracking. There was another issue with this river: it was settled at the bottom of a ravine whose sides were steep enough that even Shadowhunters had trouble getting up and down them. That was why the Mundanes had built a bridge that spanned its width.
Getting from one side to the other was difficult enough, but getting into the river itself, and bringing the lifeless bodies of other Shadowhunters back up on their backs would prove nearly impossible, even if they tied ropes to the bridge to climb up and down.
It was lucky, then, that Alec was one of the few Nephilim who had been born with wings.
They say that those Nephilim who were born with wings were chosen by the Angels for some greater purpose. They say that those Nephilim are blessed.
It was a well-kept secret within the New York Institute that the latest generation of Lightwoods had been truly blessed: both Alec and Izzy had been born with wings, though Max had not, and when the Lightwoods had taken Jace in – Robert had felt guilty about Stephen Herondale's death, and had felt even worse about Céline's, as she was the sister of the man who had been his parabatai – they had managed, spectacularly, unbelievably, to add another winged Nephilim to their ranks. After decades – centuries, even – of countless Nephilim being born without wings, Alec, Izzy, and Jace were a miracle. They were proof that good things were coming.
Their wings, though, were unknown to anyone outside the New York Institute, perhaps because Robert and Maryse had feared what the Clave might do if they found out, and perhaps because the elder Lightwoods were despised by the Downworlders, and – for all their faults – they were unwilling to risk their children being used against them.
Alec tended not to show off his wings. After all, it was easier to keep a secret whose evidence was hidden behind glamours than one that was wide open. Jace and Izzy were less concerned with secrecy, and often flaunted their wings when they were safe within the Institute; but even they were wary enough to keep their wings hidden when anyone from the Clave came to visit, and – as far as Alec knew – they had never exposed their wings to any of the Downworlders they had befriended.
It was times like this, though, that his wings came in handy. Alec used his stele to add the lines that would activate his strength and stamina runes, unfurled his wings, and dove from the bridge down to the river whose rapids swirled around his people. One by one, Alec carried the limp Shadowhunters up to the bridge, where his team waited patiently to take their friends back to the Institute.
It was only after he'd carried the last Shadowhunter up that Alec realized that Jace and Izzy weren't in the group. Panicked, he turned to Andrew and Lila, who seemed as baffled as he was.
Alec swallowed. Finding Jace and Izzy was his priority, but he still had dozens of Shadowhunters in need of medical assistance. "Andrew, Lila, Ana, and Elizabeth, with me. The rest of you return to the Institute and heal our injured. We will return as soon as we've found Jace and Izzy. May the Angel go with you."
"May the Angel go with you," his Shadowhunters echoed, and they departed, marching down the bridge with the bodies of their injured held in their arms.
"May the Angel go with you" was a common blessing within the Nephilim community: it was a prayer for protection, guidance, and safety. Alec had heard it compared to the way Mundanes told each other "good luck," but he'd always felt as though it meant more than that. More than just wishing someone well, the blessing meant many things, from be safe, to may Raziel bless everything you do, to the Angel will ensure you never lose your way.
Alec had heard that the blessing was something the Circle members had refused to bestow upon each other; some Nephilim thought it was because the Circle knew that they weren't doing the work of the Angels, while others speculated that the reason the Circle never uttered those words to those in their ranks was because they thought themselves above Raziel and his blessing.
Alec hadn't been alive during the Circle's uprising, but he, Izzy, and Jace had done more than their fair share of research. They had never been able to find out who the members of the Circle had been, but everything they had found had indicated that the Circle truly thought that they were doing the Angel's work. He found it hard to believe that they had dispensed with the blessing that was so ingrained in Nephilim society.
It was one of the things that they had carried down through the centuries. The seven sons of Raziel had had wings, as had many of their descendants; Nephilim used adamas and electrum in their weapons and clothing; the Mortal Instruments were some of the most sacred aspects of their culture; Nephilim were the children of the Angels who had given them their gifts and their city; the blessing was a belief.
Alec stared down at the river hoping his people's blessing would grant him wisdom. He already knew that they weren't in the river; he had flown high above it to ensure that he wasn't missing any of his people. "Where are they?" he wondered aloud.
"Sir," Lila said, "if you remember, all signs of Demonic activity disappeared around the time we were alerted to the danger."
"Yes," Alec confirmed, sweeping his eyes over the rapids once more. The river glittered black and silver in the moonlight, and the sound of its whispering – which was sinister enough during the day, given its proximity to the Seelie Court – served to make the shadows of the rocks and trees lining the banks seem alive, as though something was watching from beneath the cover of darkness.
"Our sensors do not monitor the Seelie Realm," she told him quietly, "as I'm sure you know. It's possible that he slipped through the rift. And if Asmodeus did not, it is possible that Jace and Izzy did."
Desperate hope flooded Alec's lungs. What Lila was suggesting was possible, if unlikely. But it was equally unlikely that Jace and Izzy – who were likely injured – had disappeared off the face of the earth. "You think…" he breathed, daring to look up at the faces of the Shadowhunters around him. Their expressions were unusually open, and they nodded in unison. "Then let's go," he urged them.
"Sir," Andrew said before Alec could move. "Won't the Seelies want to be informed of our coming? Don't the Accords obligate us to tell them before entering their lands?"
Alec paused for a moment, thinking. "This is a rescue mission; we have no intent of interacting with any of the faeries, only of retrieving our people. There are no laws, spoken or unspoken, that address such a thing; we can send the Seelie Queen a fire message to inform her that we're coming, and if she has anything against us entering her realm, she has the power to close the rift. As far as I know, though, the Seelies don't care if people enter their realm so long as they don't attempt to approach the fountain."
Lila blew out a breath. "I'll send the message."
Alec thanked her and moved towards the side of the bridge. The Seelie Realm was usually a tricky thing to find, even with the voyance rune that permanently stained the right hand of every Nephilim. Luckily, though, Alec's aptitude for the bow meant that he had sharper eyesight than most Nephilim. Even in the dim light of the moon, it was fairly easy for him to spot the place where the rift was.
"This is where we jump," he told the others. "I'll see you again soon."
And then he jumped, slipping seamlessly between the ripples and through the rift; he could feel the shift, quick as it was, between Earth and the Seelie Realm: where the New York night was balmy, the air of the Seelie Realm was sharp and bitingly cold. Even before he landed in a crouch, Alec could feel the ever-falling snow settling on his face.
The Seelie Realm was eerily quiet, like the breath had been stolen from its lungs, like the beat had been robbed from its heart, like the life had been thieved from its bones. As far as Alec knew, though, that had been the state of the Seelie Realm since Zadkiel and Beelzebub had created it for their tri-blooded children.
Between one breath and the next, Ana, Elizabeth, Lila, and Andrew landed beside him, offering Faerieland a little more life than it had before. Their presence calmed him almost immediately, though he was still tense: the four of them were brilliant Shadowhunters and loyal friends – as much as any of his subordinates who weren't family could be friends – but they weren't like Jace and Izzy, who understood him and related to him in a way that no one else could.
Alec looked around himself, trying to see if he could find anything that might lead him to Jace and Izzy. It was easier than he expected. Barely two hundred feet away, their bodies were strewn across the ground. They looked terribly limp and pale, like the dolls Maryse had given Izzy when she was younger, hoping that her daughter would take interest in feminine things.
Their mother had, Alec remembered, been disappointed first in Izzy's distinct lack of interest in such things when she was younger, and then in her aggressive adoption of ultra-feminine clothing as she grew older. It had been a few years since Izzy's "conversion," and Maryse had finally settled into a strange state between mild disapproval and vague pride, though she tended to make a point of not commenting on Izzy's clothing choices or her romantic dalliances.
Alec sprinted towards his siblings, forgetting himself for a moment; it was only a shouted "Wait!" and the impact of a body against his that stopped him. Startled, Alec did stop, and he watched in horror as a pillar of shadow rose up from nowhere and solidified into a sinister man who lunged towards Max.
Alec leapt at the Greater Demon, releasing an adamas-tipped arrow at its chest before drawing his seraph blade and running it through. Asmodeus, who looked like a man with his pristine white suit, his dark hair, and his distinctly Mundane face – even despite the golden cat eyes staring furiously at Alec – screamed and dissolved into smoke and shadow.
But Alec had been too late. Max was laying crumpled on the ground beside Jace and Izzy, writhing and foaming at the mouth before he stilled, looking just as pale as they did. Fear settled in Alec's chest, and he sank to his knees, pulled out his stele, and started burning iratze runes into his siblings' skin.
Nothing happened, and so Alec scooped up his little brother's limp form and and deposited him in Andrew's arms. "Go," he ordered roughly, and his Shadowhunters did.
Reapplying his strength rune, Alec hoisted Jace's body over one shoulder and Izzy's over the other. He opened his wings up for the second time that night, uncaring if any faeries saw them, and pushed off the ground. Within a second, he had reached the place where Andrew, Lila, Elizabeth, and Ana were jumping straight up. He flew alongside them, so that he was perpendicular to the ground, and shot up through the Seelie Realm, through the rift, and into the dark sky that curved over the earth. The other four burst out of the river behind him and struggled up the steep banks, but Alec didn't have time to feel guilty for leaving them behind.
They would make it back to the Institute soon enough, but he had to get there as soon as possible: Jace and Izzy had likely been exposed to the venom of a Greater Demon, and for far longer than Max had. Even so, he took a few seconds to lift Max from Andrew's shoulders, and balanced him alongside Jace and Izzy.
Alec didn't even bother entering through the front doors. Instead, he flew up to where he knew the window to the Infirmary. They weren't open, but Alec's desperation was enough to fix that, and he hurtled through the shattered glass, laden with all three of his siblings, and deposited them on the beds that weren't occupied by the other injured Shadowhunters.
James Scarsbury, the Institute's healer, hurried over to where Alec was trying – futilely – to use agony runes to heal his siblings. Even away from the Seelie Realm and Asmodeus' influence, the runes did nothing for them.
"Most of them are fine," James told Alec calmly, despite the way his eyes darted nervously towards Izzy, Jace, and Max. "But some of them will have to stay off their feet for a while, especially Brandon and David."
"Okay," Alec replied, glad that his Shadowhunters would make it out of this alive. He motioned to his siblings' lifeless bodies. "I'm pretty sure they've got Demon venom in their blood. My iratze isn't doing anything, not even for Jace."
James frowned before schooling his features. "I already tried contacting the Silent Brothers; some of our Shadowhunters were worse off than I'd have liked. But they aren't answering." He swallowed so harshly that Alec could hear his throat click. "We're on our own, and we don't have any methods that will save them from Demon venom."
"Fuck," Alec whispered, sinking down on the bed next to his little brother. He lifted a shaking hand and ran it through Max's hair. His eyelids didn't even flutter, and pain burned in Alec's chest, spreading through his limbs. Max hated having his hair played with, and he moved away from hands in his hair even when he was asleep. "What am I supposed to do?" he asked desperately, looking up at James and hoping beyond hope that he'd have an answer.
"That depends entirely on what you're willing to risk," James told him, his face an expressionless mask carved of ebony.
"For them?" Alec rasped. "Anything."
"Then I think you know what you need to do, sir," James nodded, taking a step back. "You know as well as I do that there is only one group of people capable of fixing this."
Alec closed his eyes. Warlocks. They were the only ones who could save his siblings now. It was said that healing a person from Demon venom took a great deal of power. Alec could think of only one Warlock who might have the capability of healing them – if only because the Clave didn't have the ability to keep track of every Warlock ever born. Alec knew that there was probably an entire Warlock community in New York, but he only knew one of them by name.
Magnus Bane was the only Warlock he could go to for help.
But Warlocks and Nephilim were mortal enemies, and had been for centuries. And while Alec knew that Magnus Bane hated Nephilim – and Shadowhunters especially – more than most Warlocks, he also knew that Bane held a particular disdain for the Lightwood family.
If Alec were to go to Magnus Bane for help, he would be going as a Nephilim, as a Shadowhunter, as a Lightwood, and there were few things that the High Warlock of Brooklyn hated more.
And yet –
Alec would do anything to save his siblings, even go against all the laws of the Nephilim to ask a Warlock for help. He would allow himself to be de-runed, or executed, if it meant saving their lives.
"How long do I have?" he asked, his mind made up.
"No more than a few hours," James replied steadily. "Though I am sure that you will know when your time is up: by all accounts, Shadowhunters who have the venom of a Greater Demon running through their veins wake up before they die. I have heard that it is the way Demons punish us for the Angels' transgressions against the Demons' Star-born forefathers."
Alec pushed himself up from Max's cot, running his hand through his little brother's hair once more. He pressed a kiss to Izzy's cheek, and squeezed Jace's shoulder in a move that comforted Alec more than it did his unconscious parabatai. "I'd better make the most of the time I have, then," he murmured. "Take care of them, please."
"Of course." James said nothing more until Alec had reached the doors of the Infirmary. "Sir?"
Alec turned around to see James' blank face. Behind the healer were the faces of every single one of his Shadowhunters, staring at him from their positions on or by the cots.
"We will support your decision," James told him meaningfully.
No one disagreed with him. And then, in unison: "May the Angel go with you."
"And with you, always," Alec replied, sweeping his eyes over the Shadowhunters of the New York Institute. "Thank you."
He hurried out of the Infirmary, through the Ops Center, and down the hallway that led to the front doors. He drew the speed rune onto his arm and ran to the only place he knew he might be able to find Magnus Bane.
He tried not to think about how, if Jace and Izzy and Max died tonight, it wouldn't just be him that was losing his family. The New York Shadowhunters were an eclectic group, brimming with differing personalities and beliefs and loyalties, but they were family. They were people that Alec trusted not only with his own life, but with the lives of his siblings. It would destroy them if his siblings died – it wouldn't be as devastating for them as it would be for him, but it would destroy them all the same.
Panting, Alec stopped in front of Pandemonium. His stomach knotted at the sight of the line that spilled out the doors. Just getting into the club would take longer than he wanted, but if he wanted any chance of getting an audience with Magnus Bane, he had to play by his rules. If that meant waiting in line, he would do so, even though he knew that his time was running out.
It took more time than he wanted to get through the door – and the bouncer gave him a suspicious glance as he walked through – but he was finally in. Alec scanned the crowd for Magnus Bane – a man he had never seen in person, but whose file had a single photo that indicated his general appearance.
Finally, Alec spotted him. Magnus Bane was in the middle of the room, in a place where everyone – Vampire, Werewolf, Warlock, Seelie, Mundane, and Nephilim alike – could see him.
Bane, Alec decided as he pushed his way through the throngs of dancers, was incredibly beautiful. His file hadn't mentioned that, but Alec supposed that it was a detail that the Clave found unimportant: no self-respecting Nephilim would ever consort with a Warlock, and especially not when both parties were male.
Clearly, Alec had less self-respect than he'd thought. But this wasn't the time for self-respect. There was no room for his ego when he would be begging a Warlock for assistance in front of Mundanes and Downworlders and, possibly, Nephilim. There was no place for his people's hatred against Warlocks when he so desperately needed the High Warlock's mercy.
He had finally reached Magnus Bane when he realized that he had no plans for how to do this.
Suddenly inspired by everything he had been taught to not do, Alec slowly removed his quiver from his back and handed it to Bane, who accepted it reflexively, his expression simultaneously wary and curious. Next, Alec unstrung his bow, and handed first the body and then the string to the Warlock. Then he divested himself of his seraph blades and daggers, and handed them, one by one, hilt-first, to Bane, who had started putting his weapons in some sort of unreachable dimensional pocket.
Alec had heard of Warlocks being able to hide things away, but he'd never thought he'd see it first hand; he tried not to flinch as his weapons were put somewhere he would never be able to reach them. He didn't much care about the blades, but his bow and quiver had bonded to him in the way weapons so often did with Nephilim. It will be worth it, Alec told himself. I would give up a thousand bows if only he will heal my siblings.
Thoroughly weaponless, Alec took a single step back from Bane, and extended his wings, which spanned wider than he was tall, uncaring of the mangled remains of his shirt, which had already suffered from his previous use of his wings that night.
At the sight of his wings – formidable limbs that were covered in glossy feathers that ranged from hues of gold to blue to black, whose soft appearance was entirely misleading given the way the edges of the feathers were nearly as sharp as seraph blades, and were slick with blood from the way they had broken through the skin of his back to extend themselves – Bane's eyes widened slightly.
Satisfied that he had managed to surprise the man whose assistance he so desperately needed, Alec sank to his knees on the ground and leaned forward so that his forehead was touching the floor. He forced his wings to relax, though it went against everything inside him to do so, and when they had finally spread across the floor at the Warlock's feet, Alec laced his fingers together and rested them on his head.
Pandemonium was breathlessly silent. It was a well-known fact – even amongst the Mundanes who chose, for the most part, to ignore the goings on within the Shadow World – that Nephilim knelt to nobody. They did not kneel before the Mundanes' various gods, nor before their Clave; as far as anybody knew, the Nephilim had never even knelt before the Angel who had created them. They certainly did not kneel on the ground before a Warlock.
And yet, there Alec was, observed by the peoples of every race except those from Zion and Edom, kneeling and weaponless and with his secrets exposed before Magnus Bane. He could only hope that the Warlock would hear him out.
"Nephilim," Bane said flatly, taking a few steps forward. Alec remained motionless at his feet. He wouldn't do anything without permission, no matter how much everything inside of him protested his decision. "Look at me."
Alec did, pushing himself up so that he could face Bane and remain on his knees. His wings remained on the ground as much as they could in that position, and he placed his hands on his thighs, in a position that he thought was fairly non-threatening.
For all that his posture was tense and unwelcoming, Bane's expression was friendly enough. "What is your name?"
Alec swallowed and averted his eyes. This wasn't going to work once Bane knew his name. But he couldn't afford anything but the truth, and he certainly couldn't afford it coming from anyone's lips but his own. He just had to hope that Raziel was with him, as his Shadowhunters had prayed; he just had to hope that Bane was better than the Nephilim were – or that he was determined to prove that he was. "Alec Lightwood," Alec said finally, reluctantly, and refused to look Bane in the eye as the words left his mouth.
"Alexander," Bane murmured. "Yes. I've heard of you."
Alec looked up, stunned that he hadn't been ordered to leave. The friendliness that had been on Bane's face was gone now, replaced by an expressionless mask that told Alec nothing of Bane's thoughts.
"Why are you here?"
"My siblings have been poisoned by the venom of a Greater Demon. We have no way to heal them."
"What a terrible way to die," Bane said casually, looking at his nails. "But then, I doubt it is any less than the Nephilim deserve, after all the Warlocks your kind have hunted and killed."
Alec gritted his teeth and closed his eyes against the tears that burned there. "Maybe so," Alec bit out – he didn't mention that, if the Clave's reports were correct, Bane had killed dozens of Nephilim; nor did he mention that neither he nor his siblings had ever killed a Downworlder, that it was cruel to force innocent children to suffer for their parents' sins. "And yet," he soldiered on, "I am here, begging you to save them."
"So you are," Bane agreed. He shook his head. "I never thought I would see the day when a Nephilim was on their knees before me, let alone a Lightwood." He bared his teeth at Alec in what could have been a smile if there had been any joy in it. "I'll admit, I'm not enjoying it as much as I imagined I would. Stand, Shadowhunter."
Alec stood and deliberately kept his posture relaxed; the last thing he needed was Bane deciding that he was a threat.
"Tell me about your siblings."
"Jace is eighteen. He's my parabatai, so even though he's not my brother by blood, he is my brother in every other way that matters. We grew up together after his parents died, and he's one of the bravest people I've ever met.
"Izzy is seventeen. By the time I learned that I was going to have a little sister, I was three, and I was very convinced that the last thing I would ever want was a sibling." Alec smiled fondly. "I think I might've fallen in love with her the first time I ever held her in my arms, though. I always did my best to protect her from everything, but Izzy's determined. She's not the type of person to ever hide in the shadows when she learns how dangerous the world is.
"She and Jace led the mission to track that Greater Demon. I felt it when Jace was poisoned, and we went to find them and their teams. I told Max – that's my youngest brother, he's nine – to stay in the Institute, and I was so sure that he'd agreed, however reluctantly. But he followed us to where Jace and Izzy were. I was careless; I didn't realize that the Demon was still there, but Max did. He – he saved me, and he got poisoned in the process." Alec choked back his tears. "I can't… I can't let them die." He lost his battle, and he turned his face away so that Bane couldn't see the grief etching itself onto his face. "I can't."
"They won't die," Bane replied calmly.
"You'll help them?" Alec asked wonderingly. "Really?"
"Really." A faint smile crept across Bane's beautiful face, and Alec's breath caught.
"Thank Raziel," Alec whispered, and then, remembering that he had come here to bargain for his siblings' lives, asked, "What do you want in return?"
"You do realize that when you bargain with a person, you are expected to present something you think is of equal worth?"
"There is nothing worth their lives," Alec says. "I cannot offer you something of equal worth because there is nothing. All I can offer you is anything you want which is in my power to give."
Bane looks at him oddly. "You are an odd one, Alexander. You do realize that I could ask for the cessation of your life, or your wings, or just you, to do whatever I wanted with you?"
Alec swallows. "I do realize that, Mr Bane. I am perfectly willing to give you whatever you ask, even if it is any of those things that you've mentioned. But I don't believe that those are things you would ask of me."
"No?" Bane asked curiously.
"No," Alec agreed. "I think that you try to be better than the Nephilim. After all, you listened to my request, even after I told you who I was. I find it unlikely that any Nephilim would be so merciful if they were in your position."
Bane smiled, a brilliant thing that lit up his entire face. "Like I said. I have heard about you, Alexander. Your reputation precedes you, even amongst the Downworlders; it was that and your absolute humility when you knelt before me that decided me. I will heal your siblings for you, and you will owe me a debt whose payment I will decide in the future."
"Thank you," Alec said, relief flooding him at Bane's words. "You have no idea what this means to me."
"Maybe not," Bane echoed his words from earlier. "But I do know what it is like to love your family so fiercely that you would do anything for them."
Alec smiled, helpless against it. Bane was absolutely incredible, and –
Oh.
Nephilim loved once and fiercely. Alec had been first taught this when he was old enough to understand concepts such as marriage and love. Technically, Nephilim had soulmates, though it was rare for them to find their other half, and rarer still for them to actually be with their soulmates if they did find each other. As a rule, Nephilim were not a particularly romantic people, and, anyway, their soulmates, while predestined, were more a person with the potential to complete them than the other half of their soul. Soulmates were a possibility, a potentiality, but they were not someone a Nephilim had to spend the rest of their lives with if they did find them.
Alec had never heard of a Nephilim having a potential soulmate who was a Downworlder, but it wasn't surprising. So few Nephilim believed in soulmates at all, and so many Nephilim believed that the Downworlders were beneath them – especially the Warlocks. It was unlikely that anyone who did have a Downworlder soulmate would have ended up with them.
But that wasn't the point. The point was that Magnus Bane could be Alec's soulmate if they worked for it. But Alec's days were numbered, and other than Jace, Izzy, and Max's restored health, he wasn't really sure what he wanted anymore.
"Alexander?" Bane's voice interrupted Alec's train of thought. Alec looked over at him, cataloging everything about him: dark, meticulously styled hair; gold-green cat eyes set in a face more beautiful than anything Alec had seen before; wild clothing that only served to emphasize the two inches he had on Alec. His could-be soulmate was stunning. "Call me Magnus."