Summary : There are rumors that Valentine is back. And he's searching for something.
When his dealings with dark magic cause swarms of demons to crawl New York, the city is not safe at night, especially for downworlders.
Alec is doing his best to keep the city safe. With no support from the Clave, the New York Institute is desperately understaffed. He begins patrolling with help from the Downworld factions - which proves to be tricky at best, and becomes almost impossible when the werewolves start hunting Alec.
His siblings have no idea of what he's up to at night and to keep them all safe Alec needs to keep it that way.
Then, he meets the High Warlock of Brooklyn. Suddenly, patrolling also includes pop songs and bird puns in between watching someone's back when fighting demons.
But, what's one more secret to keep?
Welcome to the official ceremony of adding A Taupe Fox, my wonderful beta, on my treasure pile. I am now a tame(d) dragon and will breathe fire to protect you fiercely. It was a pleasure getting to know you and working with you (REAL TALK. read: chatting. we did a lot of chatting.). I feel like I've grown as a writer thanks to your precious advice and never ending enthusiasm. Bat gifs were just a bonus. Also, congrats on getting through the bang with not only one but TWO writers. You're the best, dude!
Also, Jessa never agreed to take part in this ceremony but with such amazing, beautiful, breath-taking artwork, you can only be part of my treasure too. Let's be real, your talent is worth twice your weight in gold. It was my first time receiving fan art for a fic so I am beyond grateful for this. I can't tell you how surprised I still am that someone chose to illustrate this story? Thank you so much. Hope you enjoyed the bat talks and gifs! Find her amazing work at jesssssah on Tumblr!
This fic was created for the Malec Discord Mini Bang 2020 hosted by the Malec Discord Server: (link http + discord +) /5nBgEp8
So yeah. Here we go, first time doing a bang. Enjoy.
Alec looked down but it felt like looking up to his siblings, vertigo not from the distance between Alec and the ground, high up on the roof like he was, but social constructs Alec did not want to care for. Still, Jace blinded him, holding the sun in his gaze, a halo of bright hair softening his perfect face, and Isabelle was the moon to his sun, beautiful in the glint of a blade, mysterious shade in the curve of her whip.
They pushed each other around to get to the last remaining demons and Alec dropped his bow, the night breeze sliding along his rib cage like a dying breath. The open sides of his hoodie fluttered against his chest, the thin strip of fabric of his racerback faltering to the slightest brush on his spine. He jumped off the roof and joined his siblings, rolling his bare shoulders.
"And that's double digits for me!" Jace bragged.
"Absolutely not! I killed more demons than you and I didn't even get to nine tonight." Isabelle argued.
"If you two could stop keeping track of your numbers and focus, I'd like to report to Mother."
"Don't be a party pooper Alec, maybe you'll get one next time."
Isabelle meant it as a warm encouragement and Alec knew it, deep down. But her words cracked on the surface of his mind like her whip on the pavement, ripples on the ocean of thoughts and lies swelling in his head every day. Alec rolled his eyes, shrugging his bow onto his back and ignoring Izzy in favor of Jace. The blond pushed his hair out of his eyes, grinning.
"Don't do any unnecessary moves to show off. Nobody's watching anyway," Alec sneered, waving an arrow at Jace as he spoke.
"Come on, when you have your first kill you'll understand it's no big deal. Forget about the rules and have fun for once," Jace shot back like he was doing Alec a favor.
Alec slid the arrow into his quiver, frost in his gaze. Red feathers tangled with his dark hair and he clenched his teeth until his cheekbones appeared sharper than the tip of an arrow and he turned his back on his siblings, striding towards Manhattan.
Footsteps did not echo behind him as he stormed off. Worry found no anchor in the cold rage gnawing at his insides, especially knowing they would sneak off on the way back anyway. He kicked a dumpster as he neared the Institute and the metallic bang reverberated along the buildings towering above him.
Alec's blood crawled in his veins like molten lava when he barged into the training room. Maryse fell back from her handstand, staring him down until he got on with his report, throwing in a punch as he did so. His mother ducked and swept his legs from under him, forcing Alec to jump and reach out to grab her in a headlock, ratting his siblings out.
"The only signal left on the tracker came from Staten Island so we were basically done for the night," he growled.
Maryse pushed back and they stumbled before she twisted in his grasp, kicking blindly. Alec huffed and punched her again, wincing when his fist collided with his mother's face. She straightened, shrugged the pain off and drew an iratze on her shoulder while scolding him about leaving Isabelle and Jace to their own devices.
"Don't go to Staten Island tonight, it's too early. I know you've been patrolling for a while now but never like this. There are too many demons there for you to do it alone.
I trust you'll talk to the Alpha of the pack if Jace gets us in trouble with werewolves again? And don't roll your eyes at the Seelie Queen next time Isabelle loses track of time in the faerie realm," Maryse said at last. "Although it's better if they're busy fooling around rather than wondering what you're up to."
"Understood. Have you heard back from the vampire clan?" Alec replied.
Alec doubted there was such a thing as too early but he understood his mother's reluctance to send him out on his own. This was not done, even with more experienced shadowhunters. Maryse and Robert patrolled together, Alec patrolled with his siblings. Up until now.
The Alpha of the New York pack, Bat, was intent on protecting the city and Maryse hoped to get in touch with the head of the vampire clan, Raphael, in order for Alec to patrol with them. The Seelie Court had expressed no interest in working along shadowhunters and Alec doubted it had anything to do with an unfortunate eyeroll.
He clasped his hands behind his back, straightening to the appropriate stance for a soldier. Alec's mother shook her head and frowned. She eyed him carefully before speaking again.
"Our relations with the Downworld are better than ever, we can't go around offending anyone, especially with demons crawling the city. We need to cooperate with them, if only I could get hold of the High Warlock..." she sighed. "Keep an eye out for him."
Alec nodded. Wooden beams hung above their heads as he ducked his, knowing a dismissal when he saw one. The training room was located in one of the towers of the Institute, replacing what should have been the attic. Church, the gray cat that lived at the Institute, sat on one of the wooden beams. He flicked his fluffy tail lazily above Maryse's head as he licked his front paw, purring in delight when no one bothered him.
Alec sighed and grabbed his stele as he left the room, drawing over faint silver scars on his forearms. Angelic power rushed through his veins, light and soothing as he climbed up the winding staircase leading to the roof. He stepped up on the ledge and looked down on the burning city lights, bright and unblinking as a gust of wind tangled his dark hair and his heart thrummed in his chest with blazing certainty.
The High Warlock of Brooklyn looked up in the cold glow of a street light, inspecting his nails. His cat-like pupils shrunk to dark slits in the light, his eyes pools of honey flickering with mischief born from boredom. Shadows skirted around the washed out lights, crawling on the pavement and he flicked his wrist to blast a ravener out of his way. The stench of garbage emanated from a dark alley still and he wandered between the tall brownstone buildings, hoping he would not get his hands dirty as he looked for the nest.
Magnus held his hands up, flaring with blue magic. A dark blur flashed past him, embedding itself into the slowly waking nest. An arrow, he noticed distractedly as his magic burned the demons down, engulfing the nest in royal blue flames. Magnus strode towards the arrow, left undamaged by his magic and frowned as he picked it up.
The arrow was of good craftsmanship, the shaft engraved with runes. The arrowhead was made of adamas and Magnus fiddled with it carefully to have a look at the red feathers on the other end. He glanced around warily, golden eyes trailing up the fire escape climbing up the nearest wall.
The sight he beheld was out of this world. The outline of a man stood in the moonlight, blending in the night, and stars aligned onto his skin.
A pair of wings fluttered underneath the man's arms, darker than his hair. Magnus could not see his eyes but wished for the stranger to hold the light of day in his gaze, because this was as close to angels as the Shadow World could get.
A sudden rush of wind sent Magnus' cloak billowing and the stranger landed on the ground beside Magnus without a sound. The warlock looked at him carefully, unsettled by the unusual appearance of the wings. They looked soft, if not fragile, and ruffled feathers fluttered along the edge as the man crossed his arms, staring Magnus down. He met the stranger's eyes head on and a winter sky spread out between them.
"Are you my guardian angel?" Magnus grinned, maybe a tiny bit hopeful.
The joke shocked the other man into silence, unless he had not intended to reply all together and his grip on his bow tightened. Magnus shrugged at the lack of answer, watching as the stranger worked his jaw, as though holding back a scorching retort. The wings fluttered under the man's arms and the warlock resisted the temptation to side-step him to study them closely. Magnus offered his hand to shake, pleased when the angel — for lack of anything to call him — grabbed it and gave a firm shake.
"Thank you. I'm Magnus, Magnus Bane."
"Alec— Alexander."
The gesture attracted Magnus' attention to the open sides of the hoodie accommodating the wings. The warlock's golden eyes narrowed, slit pupils dilating to take in the details of the wings and he frowned, catching sight of the web of silver skin between the man's armpits and wings. His eyes trailed up along a crisscrossing rune on the stranger's neck.
Alexander's wings were unusual indeed.
Magnus stared at the smooth, leathery membrane that extended under the young man's arms. He looked like a bat but cuter, with ink black feathers along the hem of his wings, brushing his wrists. Magnus had a feeling Alexander would not take well to the comparison though, if his reaction to the guardian angel joke was anything to go by.
"I didn't know shadowhunters could grow wings."
"Me neither."
Alexander smirked and Magnus could not help but bark out a laugh. For all the sarcasm in his voice, he was willing to believe the wings had come as a surprise to the other man, whose deep baritone rang in his ears. Their mirth still echoed in the street when the shadowhunter moved towards the fire escape. Magnus' cat eyes followed Alexander intently as he called after the younger man.
"Wait!"
But Alexander was already gone and Magnus clutched the arrow to his chest, red feathers brushing under his chin.
"What are you?" he breathed out in wonder.
Shadowhunters had been working closely with the Downworld, this last month or so. The city was crawling with demons and Magnus saw less and less clients, either because they did not feel safe in New York or because the High Warlock had little time for walk-ins when he already struggled to make time for appointments.
There were rumors of Valentine's return.
The Seelie Queen had yet to grant him an Audience. At least the werewolves had naturally started to hunt demons when the New York Institute proved to be understaffed. The vampires would do their part, too, but the Shadow World was embarrassingly overwhelmed with the sheer number of demons in the streets. Staten Island was infested and Magnus had hoped to coordinate with the Seelie Court to tackle the area once and for all.
Maybe this mysterious shadowhunter was worth the trouble and would prove trustworthy.
Alec woke up with a start, trapped under stark white bed sheets. He batted the scratchy material away and rolled out of bed, chest heaving with the remnant of a nightmare. A sharp tug from the parabatai rune on his side made him choke for breath and brought forth memories of a dainty neck and square hands forcing unearthly, iridescent liquid down a woman's throat.
The parabatai bond was strained, had always been, but at night, Jace's feelings slipped between his ribs like a stab of distress. Alec retched as he dragged himself out of his room and towards the end of the corridor. Witchlight glowed peacefully along the walls, bathing the stone in still shadows that Alec slunk in and out of until he reached the bathroom. He held onto the sink, glancing at his sharp features and curling hair on his forehead.
Jace stumbled into the bathroom a moment later and slumped into the tub. Alec could barely feel him now, their fragile bond stretching thin between them. Even looking at the blond, Alec struggled to put words onto Jace's feelings. The parabatai bond was wild, intense and distant in turn, unreliable.
"Bad dream?" Alec stated more than he asked.
The parabatai bond thrummed with the other man's running heart still and he looked pale in the yellow light of the bulb dangling from the ceiling. Alec's side ached, taut and constricted with Jace's distress as he remembered the nightmare they had shared.
"I think it was my mother... but that's impossible…" Jace mumbled to himself.
"It was just a bad dream," Alec reiterated, eager to appease his parabatai.
Jace did not reply and reached out blindly until water poured down from the shower head. It echoed in the bathroom and Alec shivered as some of it splashed into his face but his senses cleared with the bite of the water. Alec leaned back against the sink, watching his brother carefully. The wet sound died down as water swirled down the drain. Jace shook his head, blond strands of hair sticking to his temples.
"It felt like I was the one pouring this strange liquid down her throat."
Alec nodded, the image still vivid in his mind and wondered what the shimmering drink stood for. It looked like nothing he had ever seen or heard of, not even from the Faerie Realm. Alec was no stranger to the peculiar and the unusual but Jace's nightmare made little sense to him.
"I'm sorry for what happened during patrol tonight," Jace added, "I know my form was shaky towards the end and you were just looking after me by pointing it out. It doesn't matter how many demons we have or haven't killed."
He offered him a tentative smile and Alec could not help the bashful grin that stretched the corner of his lips, slightly higher on the left. The lingering shadows of the dream seemed to recoil with Jace's attempt at reassuring him but Alec felt their bond coiled tightly against his side, ever present and shut down to keep Alec's secret close. He blinked his burning guilt away to bathe in the warmth of what spread smoothly between them still, friendship and love.
But Alec was a liar. No matter his reasons for lying to his parabatai, protecting Jace and Isabelle also meant hurting them. He kept Max at arm's length to spare his little brother the pain of getting to know a pale copy of Alec. For all of Alec's bluntness and general policy of honesty, he hid an entire part of himself.
What friendship and love was there to bathe in, since it was all a lie? He shook his head before he drowned in the raging guilt that thrashed in his mind at all times.
"So you admit Izzy killed more demons than you tonight?" Alec asked instead.
"Never!" Jace clamped his mouth shut at the loud outburst and lowered his voice. "How did it go with Maryse?"
"I punched her," Alec shrugged.
Jace whistled, impressed, and Alec ducked his head. Trading blows with his mother during his report happened so often that he had started to pick up patterns in her fighting style. It was good practice. Jace, for all his cockiness, had yet to land a punch on Maryse. He respected her too much to lay a hand on the woman who raised him like her own child. She was not exactly Jace's mother, more of the mother figure he never hoped for, but Jace was part of their family in his own way.
Izzy had no such qualms, but Maryse riled her up to no end and Isabelle, blinded by her rage, rarely outsmarted the matriarch. It was not for lack of trying, Alec mused, holding up a hand to help his parabatai out of the bathtub.
Jace could not miss the opportunity for a hug and Alec groaned as soaking wet arms wrapped around him, keeping him still long enough to drench his shirt.
He pushed the other man away with a sneer and stomped back to his room to hide a fond look and the fire raging on his face and all the way to his chest, secretly pleased by Jace's embarrassing display of affection. He knew, deep down, that Isabelle and Jace would not care about his wings but it was safer this way.
What they did not know could not hurt them. If the Clave were to learn about Alec's wings, who knew what they would do. They would want to know why, and how. Alec did not fancy being pinned to an operation table as shadowhunters dissected every inch of him. He shuddered at the thought and held onto his reason for lying.
Isabelle and Jace would never let such a thing happen. Not without putting up a fight, at least, and Alec would not let it come to that. As long as nobody knew about his wings, his siblings were safe.
Alec drifted off to sleep, slipping away into memories of a billowing cloak and a man with cat eyes who called Alec his guardian angel. The High Warlock of Brooklyn hardly needed someone to watch over him, was Alec's last thought and as for himself, he did not look like an angel at all. Not like Jace sometimes did in the heat of battle, a halo golden hair around his perfect face and amber eyes burning fiercely.
Magnus reclined in his armchair, running his thumb along the smooth shaft of the arrow, humming at the soothing sensation. Red feathers brushed against his fingertips. The Chairman had tried to play with it once but it felt wrong to leave a weapon between the cat's paws.
The High Warlock's magic buzzed against his skin, eager to track the shadowhunter, and he smiled when familiar ruins flashed to the forefront of his mind. Royal blue tendrils of magic stretched away from him, concentrating into a portal and the warlock shook his head, snapping his fingers to get his magic under control again.
"I'll be back soon Chairman. Behave while I'm gone!" he called over his shoulder.
Chairman Meow raised his tiny head from the sparkly pillow Magus had gifted him for his six months birthday and yawned, uncaring. The feline's eyes met Magnus' slit pupils, the Chairman's a field of green to the warlock's sunny gaze.
Magnus' demon mark no longer brought up painful memories. Magic was a wonderful thing and he had long forgotten what, exactly, had occurred in his past. Magnus could barely remember where he had stored the undoubtedly awful memories he had gotten rid of.
Chairman Meow did not mind his eyes either. Understanding passed between them, or maybe just Magnus' wistful thinking, then the tawny cat flicked his tail once and went back to sleep. The warlock shook his head with a fond smile before he remembered what he had been meaning to do.
The portal remained and he stepped through it, plastering a seductive grin on his face. Renwick's Ruin was a castle of glass, broken windows and collapsed walls letting in the icy glow of the moon and Magnus strolled in with his chin held high, cat eyes glowing in the dark.
A musty smell hung within the last standing walls. Magnus frowned at stale air and moisture as he climbed up a series of steps falling to pieces. Dark shapes dashed up the stairs and Magnus hurried after them, almost calling out Alec's name.
He stopped himself when he realized that none of them was the mysterious shadowhunter. Although the man, tall and muscular, looked familiar, something akin to fear stirred in Magnus' chest as he reached the higher levels of the abandoned hospital. Why was the man dragging what looked like a child through the abandoned hospital?
They rounded the corner and the warlock caught up with them in the stairs, moonlight refracting on the intruder's platinum blond hair. Magnus called upon his magic, stalking towards them and frowned as he tried to get a better look at the smaller figure next to the man. Royal blue flames danced along the walls as he walked up the last steps.
"Hey!" the High Warlock called.
He stumbled on the landing just as the man turned and Magnus' eyes widened in recognition. Valentine Morgenstern stood in front of Magnus, alive and runes freshly burned on his skin. He held a warlock child to his chest like a shield, a knife pressed against the boy's throat, his face barely visible.
"What are you gonna do, Bane? Watch another child die without doing anything to help them?" Valentine taunted.
Magnus stopped abruptly, memories flooding his mind. He had seen Valentine slaughter his own — shadowhunters just like him — when they refused to stand down in the face of injustice and cruelty. Magnus had failed to return a werewolf child's sight after Valentine had pressed silver coins against the little one's eyes until they burned away, never to see again.
He remembered the little boy, the cries of a child. Royal blue magic flashed around Magnus' wrists and lashed out, burning bright in the night. Not this time, he thought but a yellow shield appeared in front of the renegade.
"Why are you protecting this monster?" Magnus growled.
The boy shook in Valentine's strong arms. He lowered the magic shield to wave his hands wildly instead and build a portal. Valentine did not wait for the yellow magic to shape it properly, he jumped through the portal. Magnus rushed forward, knowing better than to step through without a destination in mind. He reached out, trying to catch the kid and bring him back to safety.
But it was too late.
Valentine sliced the child's throat and the portal collapsed with the body of the young warlock falling to Valentine's feet on the other side of the portal.
Magnus stumbled where the portal had been, fingers curling around a fireball.
He almost blasted a werewolf with it when claws grated on the floor, expecting a demon or one of Valentine's goons. He turned, finding the pack crouched around holes in the ground and fallen wooden beams. The warlock immediately snuffed his magic out and darkness crawled around them as he held his hands up in surrender.
"My bad, didn't expect to see you guys here," he snarled. "Where were you when Valentine ran in?"
His voice shook and Magnus knew his cheeks were wet with tears. He did not bother to wipe them off. One of the wolves — a female with a gray face — ducked her head, licking her chops to hold back a whine. The Alpha — a bigger, brown wolf — growled threateningly. She ostensibly ignored the Alpha's attempt at asserting his dominance and Magnus sent her a comforting smile, swallowing painfully. He had failed. Once again.
Another nameless child and Magnus had not even seen the kid's face. The warlock child had looked so small, next to the madman. The glint of the blade pressed against the child's throat burned onto Magnus eyelids still, to haunt him even in his sleep. He had never seen yellow magic so bright.
He wondered where Alec was, suddenly, because the tracking spell had led Magnus to Renwick's and the mysterious shadowhunter was nowhere to be seen. The thought made him pause. What if Valentine had been there for Alec too? After all, Alec was exactly the kind of creature the Circle liked to hunt. Bat wings would make for an impressive prize in Valentine's collection of warlock marks and downworlders body parts.
The female swung her light brown tail in distress and Magnus squared his shoulders, focusing on the task at hand. The only way was forward. He would make Valentine pay. What was the pack doing here, if they were not chasing Valentine? Magnus had never seen this Alpha before and wondered when he had taken control of the pack.
Changes in leadership were the last thing they needed, with the proliferation of demons in the city and Valentine's return. The High Warlock did not appreciate that the Alpha had not informed him that the pack had a new leader though. How were they supposed to cooperate if they could not even nail this through official channels of communication? This was hardly the time for power play.
Suddenly, Magnus heard a swoosh. He swiveled around, catching sight of ruffled feathers and a relieved sigh escaped him, even as the wolves went careening past Magnus. The pack pounced through the corridor and the floor started shaking. Magnus nearly fell to the lower level as he stumbled against a wall, trying to make sense of the scene. Was the pack after Alec?
Howls reverberated in the abandoned hospital as the pack chased after the shadowhunter around the building and Magnus was momentarily distracted by a demon crawling up the stairs.
Slime dripped down the steps and into the holes in the floor. Magnus' magic flared and he aimed at the demon, pushing it back just as Alec reached the landing again. The shadowhunter ducked a flurry of fangs and claws without hurting any of the wolves. He had not even drawn a blade to defend himself and Magnus gaped when the other man flung a wolf over his shoulder, almost carefully.
The warlock glanced down the stairs but the demon had recoiled into a puddle of slime and the pack was still out to get the shadowhunter. Alec jumped out of reach, stretching his wings. Sweat glistened on his sides, black runes standing out like shadows of the silver scars burnt on his skin.
"Why are they after you?"
"I don't know!" Alec shot back.
The wolves gathered on the other side of the corridor, baring their teeth and Alec took a step back, bewildered by the hostility rolling off the pack in waves. The female wolf from before hesitated when the others prowled forward and Magnus called out to her, eyeing the werewolves warily.
"Shadowhunters have been on their best behavior since the Accords, why are you attacking him? Valentine was just here and you didn't even bat an eye!"
She turned into a young woman with light brown skin and amber eyes, "Isn't he working for Valentine?"
Curly, brown-gold hair fell on her face, hiding some of a big scar on her neck as she gnawed at her lower lip, torn between the Accords and the pack's hostility. To Magnus' disbelief, the Alpha stalked towards her, growling, and she took a step back.
"Has he hurt you yet? Valentine didn't hesitate to kill that warlock child," Magnus pointed out, hating the way his voice shook still.
"Can't blame them for being wary of every shadowhunter, we haven't been doing a good job of keeping demons or madmen in check..." Alec said at the same time.
Magnus frowned and the woman screamed a warning as the demon rolled onto the shaky landing of the higher floor and the pack pounced on them again, cutting off any escape. He felt Alec moving, pushing him out of the way and suddenly hands settled on his collarbones as the shadowhunter pressed against Magnus' back, pulling him down a hole in the ground.
It did not feel like falling, Magnus mused as the ground rushed to meet them and soft, ink black feathers brushed his sides, somehow cold when Alexander was burning up against his back. The wings absorbed the brunt of the impact and Magnus stumbled with the weight of the shadowhunter as they landed. Alec released him and ushered them out of Renwick's Ruin, running into the night and away from the werewolf pack.
"Can you make a portal and get us back to the alley we met in?"
Magnus snapped a portal into existence at the shadowhunter's hurried words, royal blue magic rumbling like thunder as they dived through the flickering light. Alec let go of his hand and the warlock caught onto the fire escape, disheveled and out of breath.
"Thank you. I'm sorry I wasn't there to help the kid..."
The warlock gritted his teeth. A faceless and nameless child, with only yellow magic to remember him by. Magnus had no right to forget Valentine's victims. The High Warlock of Brooklyn was meant to protect the downworlders of New York. Magnus had failed, once again. He did not deserve to forget them and move on.
But how could he remember a child who had no name, and whose face Magnus had barely seen?
He closed his eyes and inhaled quickly, trying to calm down. When he opened his eyes, the shadowhunter was still there, pale and looking pained.
Alec straightened, blinking rapidly, and adjusted his bow and quiver on his back. Fading black runes etched silver scars onto his wrists and his wings seemed to sag. The patagium underneath his armpits folded inward then, retracting and leaving a sliver of skin along the shadowhunter's sides and arms. A glamour hid the ruffled feathers dangling from his wrists and he adjusted his racerback between his shoulder blades, running a hand through his hair and squirming as Magnus scrutinized him.
"We need to stop Valentine. But first, there is a proliferation of demons on Staten Island that needs to be taken care of," Magnus eventually said.
"I can't exactly do that all by myself," Alec argued. "Actually, I hoped the pack would help but apparently they're out to get me. I'll just have to see if the New York vampire clan is willing to help."
"I could go with you?" Magnus clamped his mouth shut, cursing himself.
Staten Island was literally crawling with demons and he was fairly convinced they came from a rift between the realms. Going there was reckless, but Alec smiled and Magnus would not forgive himself if he missed out on the opportunity to see him again.
Which was very unlike Magnus, especially after the Circle debacle twenty years or so earlier. Valentine had reminded him just why that was that night and Magnus swallowed painfully. He had barely seen the face of the warlock child.
Time was a fickle thing, the blink of an eye if Magnus stopped paying attention. But he remembered and teaming up with a shadowhunter went against his very nature after centuries of wariness. There was a reason Magnus had kept these memories. He did not want to repeat the same mistakes.
Alec did not look like a shadowhunter though, bore a mark not unlike Magnus' demon marks. Alec was different by nature and maybe, just maybe, this generation would be better than the previous one. Magnus had seen some improvement, after all. Not much, but enough to remain hopeful.
Shadowhunters were not exactly working with the Downworld but Maryse Lightwood kept a steady stream of communication with the leaders of each faction in New York. Apparently, she had also made sure her subordinates would get along with downworlders. Alec was a curiosity and Magnus intended to learn more about him, if only to unveil the mystery of his wings. It did not hurt that Alexander was nice to look at, too.