Eliza flipped down from the ceiling beam, landing gracefully on her feet. Her eyes lifted from the floor to the dummies across the room. Almost automatically, three knives were launched from her hand. Each knife landed in the neck of the dummies.

Someone was clapping. Eliza stood, looking behind her. Jace was clapping his hands together, an impressed look on his face. "Well done. That was…impressive, to say the least."

She rolled her eyes. "You're making me blush. I do insist you not compliment me." She replied, voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Don't be like that. I'm being nice." She muttered, saying what a joyous occasion that was. Jace shook his head. "I'm hungry. Let's grab lunch."

She looked back at him, flipping a knotted braid over her shoulder. "Not at that Taki's place. I don't like the way the werewolves look at me. And I especially don't like that rude fey waitress. I'm craving that hibachi place on 16th."

Jace rolled his eyes at her. "You know, if you show your face in Taki's again, you're showing them how brave you are. And Kaelie doesn't like a challenge."

Slowly, she decided he was right. "Fine. Taki's it is. Let's go."

"Are you kidding?" She laughed. "She hates me. Despises me. Loathes me!" Jace's hand was ever present on her wrist as they laughed, stumbling down the street.

So maybe they'd had one too many drinks at Taki's. It started as something to take the edge off from the always lingering Downworlder population in the restaurant. It hadn't gotten out of hand, not in the least. It had just gone slightly further than expected.

They were rosy-cheeked, laughing and actually having a good time. "She's jealous." Jace countered. "And she has every reason to be." His last few words were quiet, almost covered by her laughter.

She looked over at him, green eyes sparked with curiosity. "She does?"

They stopped walking. Jace's lips were parted, his eyes dark as he looked down at her. "Yeah. I mean…. yeah."

Her brow furrowed and she started walking again. Jace's hand wrapped around hers as he caught up with her.

"Hey, I meant it." He told her.

A funny feeling bubbled in her stomach. He did mean it. The way he was looking at her…Did he…Was he going to kiss her?

And then…it was like he was immediately sober. He smiled at her, releasing her hand and continued to walk. She frowned, rubbing her hand where his had been.

She didn't like the way she felt around him. She didn't like the warm and fuzzy feeling he gave her. She couldn't fall for him. She had more important things to do.

Little dove, I've found something. You'll want to hurry.

His voice in her head woke her up.

She hadn't even realized she had dozed off. The fire was dulled down, the embers barely sparking. She groaned softly, glancing over at Jace. He was fast asleep on the couch, his demonology book open on his chest.

Eliza closed her book quietly, leaving it on the floor. She pushed up from the armchair and silently left the library. She went to her room, grabbing her jacket, short-sword, stele and a seraph blade for good measure.

The subway was desolate, giving her more than enough room to worry over whatever Magnus had found.

A million possibilities ran through her brain. Had he found her mother? Was she in the city? Was she even alive? That single thought spawned a million more possibilities. If her mother was dead, how would she ever stop her father?

The train stopped at Queens and she got off, pushing her braids off her shoulders. It took her around ten minutes to arrive at his doorstep, pushing the door open and walking inside.

The decrepit look of the building no longer gave her the creeps, instead feeling slightly homey. Like she was always meant to end up on the doorstep of a powerful Downworlder who maybe applied too much eyeliner.

She jiggled the doorknob, but it didn't budge. He had called for her, hadn't he? She lifted her hand to knock on the door. The door rumbled at the proximity of her hand. She frowned, pressing her palm against the door.

At her touch, it swung open. Chairman Meow was waiting on her, a bored expression on his smug cat face.

"Impatient cat. Take me to your leader." She sighed.

Magnus' clock read that it was barely past two in the morning. The cat lead her to Magnus' study.

He had books sprawled all over his desk, his body leaned over them in interest. He looked up at her arrival.

"Good. We can start now." He shooed the cat from the room and with a flick of his wrist, the study door slammed shut. "I finally traced the essence in your short-sword. My suspicions were correct, as always." He was quite the cocky warlock. "The blood belongs to a Prince of Hell. Lucifer, in fact."

Her body erupted in chills at the mention of his name.

The Morning Star.

The irony was not lost on her in the least. Her family name was derived from his own.

Magnus was staring at her, his gaze hard-set. "I have another favor. A dangerous one, I believe." He frowned, telling her to ask away. "Can you summon him here? I would like to know why I have a short-sword with his blood in the blade."

Magnus waved his hands, all the books shutting loudly. They flew back to their respectful spots on the shelves. "Let me get this straight. You want me to summon a Prince of Hell, Lucifer no less, here? To my apartment? So, you can question him and possibly die?"

She nodded. "Yes. That sounds right to me."

Magnus huffed a deep breath. "I don't understand my fascination with you, little dove. But if this helps save the world…how can I say no?"

She smiled graciously. "Another day. I'm rather tired and I'm sure you'd like to get some rest as well." The warlock shrugged. "Thank you, Magnus. Your kindness and support really does mean the world to me."

Magnus patted her shoulder comfortingly. "I feel like you'll be worth the trouble in the end. Now, go get in bed. I'll let you know when I have any information, regarding your mother or this…matter."

She placed a chaste kiss on his cheek. "Goodnight. Don't forget to take that mess of make-up off your face or your skin will blemish."

He rolled his eyes at her. She knew he liked having her around. She wasn't sure why, but he did. And she liked him too.

There was only one thing that could keep her mind off the lies, off the double life, off everything that plagued her thoughts at night.

Training. She had been throwing knives for two hours, not hardly growing bored. Each knife landed perfectly where she wanted it to.

"Busy?" Jace was standing behind her, arms crossed over his chest.

She shrugged, launching another knife. "Depends on what you consider busy. What do you want?" She asked.

"It's important. I need your full attention." He told her. She didn't respond immediately. She continued to throw knives, her pile of knives then non-existent. "Eliza. Your attention, please." Was he begging for her attention? Oh, that was rich.

"I'm busy. Come back later." She muttered, standing up. She walked over to retrieve her knives from the three dummies. She turned, almost stumbling backwards. Jace had planted himself right in front of her.

"I need to talk to you. It's important." He growled.

She raised her eyebrows. "It must be quite important if Jace Wayland is begging for my attention." She drawled. She walked over to the table and put her knives in a fabric sheath. "Alright. What's going on with you?"

He grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her out of the training room and down to his room. His room was impeccably clean. He shut the door quietly, staring at her with molten eyes.

Was it possible that he had somehow found her out?

"My dad died when I was ten." He started.

She bit the inside of her cheek. No…the man you know as your father is alive. Alive and ruining my life, she thought. She knew that Valentine had raised Jace as if they were the Waylands. She just didn't know why.

He sat down on the bed and beckoned her. He waited to continue until she was sitting next to him. "My mother died in childbirth, so my father raised me alone. He loved me very much, even though he could be cruel sometimes. He would beat me on occasion, if I took too long to learn something or disappointed him. He got me my own falcon once."

Oh, she knew that story. Valentine had been distraught over the entire situation. He claimed Jace was too soft for his own good.

"I trained the falcon. I loved him, even. He listened to me, came when I called. I liked to think that he loved me back. When I showed my father how well I had tamed my bird, he snapped its' neck. He was so angry. He had wanted me to make the bird into a killing companion, not soften and tame it. He said: 'To love is to destroy and to be loved is to be the one destroyed.' Does that seem right to you?"

Unfortunately, it did. It sounded exactly like her father. He could be cruel and unforgiving.

They had had two birds when she was growing up. Hugin and Munin. Hugin resided at the Institute with Hodge, spying for her father. Munin stayed in Idris, waiting for her father's beck and call. The two birds were merciless and killers. Jonathan had trained them well. Eliza had tried to make them kind, but Jonathan's influence on them was unyielding.

"No." She finally spoke. "It doesn't seem right at all. Love is…" She hit a wall. What was love? She was sure she had never experienced it in any form. He may have said so, but her father didn't love her. She was sure he didn't love anything. You didn't whip someone you loved.

And Jonathan. She didn't even have to worry about him. He was competitive for their father's attention. And she let him have as much as he wanted. He had always held a competition with her for Valentine's favor. And though Jace didn't know it, Jonathan competed with him as well.

"I'm not quite sure what love is, but I don't believe it's destructive in nature." She said. "It can be, if used maliciously, but love isn't inherently destructive."

Jace nodded, as if he agreed with her. "I believed him for a very long time. I distanced myself. I couldn't allow myself to love anyone, not if it meant destruction on their part. And I myself didn't particularly want to be destroyed."

She said she understood completely. "Self-preservation." Wasn't she practicing the same concept? "Has something changed your mind?" She asked him. He didn't sound as if he believed the idea anymore.

He shrugged, his gaze meeting hers. "Not entirely, but it may happen soon." He mumbled. He straightened his back. "Anyways, I just wanted you to know something about me. Since you've been so open about your past, even though I've been a little rude."

She raised her eyebrows at him. "A little?" She scoffed. "Jace, you were downright ungracious. Not a gentleman at all." She told him, her voice a little quieter than she had hoped for.

He had an unusual look on his face. An apologetic one. A look she never thought would pass his face. "Yeah. I know. But do you understand why? Do you know why I acted that way?"

She told him that of course she did. "You were protecting yourself. And Alec and Izzy. Your wariness wasn't rude by intention, it was protective. I would have done the same thing." She lied.

Well, possibly. She would have been kinder. A little kindness went quite a long way.

He nodded, agreeing with her. "You aren't bad, Starkweather." Jace told her. "I don't half-mind having you around. You're a much better cook than Izzy, that's for sure." He chuckled.

She reached over, shoving him playfully. She was a better cook than Jace's adoptive sister. "Now I know why you're being so nice. You only want me for my cooking skills." She grinned.

He shook his head. "It's a bonus, that's for sure." The room went quiet. He was staring at her, those golden eyes of his boring into her, almost like he was reading every bit of her being. "When you first got here, I was sure you weren't going to be any good. I was sure you were going to get us killed on a hunt." How reassuring, she muttered. He smiled easily, saying he wasn't done. "You really proved yourself that first hunt. You didn't have any training experience at all, not anything much really. You've just gotten better. When Hodge first asked me to keep an eye on you…I was worried you might be what I thought. A waste. But you've proved me wrong on every assumption I've had. You're almost as good as me."

His praises passed right through her. She heard none of them. All she heard was that Hodge had asked him to keep an eye on her. The sentence looped repeatedly in her brain.

"I'm sorry. You said that Hodge asked you to watch me?" She blinked, stuck in her state of disbelief. "What for?"

Jace shrugged, not really caring about the circumstances. "He wanted to know if you acted weird at all. I told him you were fine. I think he was just worried about your adjustment or something. What's the big deal?"

Her voice was almost inaudible when she said it was nothing, her eyes trained on the floor. She'd have to be more than careful from then on, if Hodge was keeping an eye on her. Damn him.

July

Magnus' voice in her head was insistent. A once slight whisper turned into full on shouting.

Eliza. I found her. I found your mother.

She choked on her noodles, dropping her chopsticks.

"Is everything alright?" Hodge asked her, his eyes cautious.

She had a lot to be thankful for. One of those things was that Hodge Starkweather had given her plenty of breathing room. He wasn't down her neck about finding the Cup. But she knew he should have been. She knew that her father had to be on his back about the Cup.

Or so she thought. She knew for a fact that Valentine was hounding him about the Mortal Cup as often as possible, demanding as could be. And she had thought that Hodge was giving her breathing room. Until Jace had let it slip that Hodge was watching her.

She refused to confront him. She had to let him think that things were going as planned. Well, as he thought they were planned.

She nodded, finishing chewing and then wiping her mouth. "Missed a noodle." She smiled lopsidedly.

Hodge shook his head wistfully and went back to his food. "So, how was training today?" He asked them.

"Jace and Eliza are show-offs." Izzy muttered.

Alec agreed instantly. "It's mostly Jace though. I think Eliza's just practicing on Izzy."

Izzy rolled her eyes. "You could practice a little easier." She told Eliza. "You're probably one of the Shadowhunters that the Clave is going to weaponize."

Eliza's bright green eyes widened. Was that really a thing? She'd never heard of it before. "Are you serious?" Eliza asked her.

Jace said no immediately. "She's messing with you. The Clave doesn't weaponize Shadowhunters. Manipulates them, maybe. But definitely not weaponizing them." He shot Izzy a tired look. "And as for showing off, I can't help that I'm better than you."

Jace was an excellent Shadowhunter. One of the best. Probably the best of their age. How could he not be? Her father had overseen him until he was ten.

She was still unclear of how her father ended up with Jace. He had never specified on the details, only that Jace was his to take care of. Jonathan knew. He always knew. Valentine told his precious monster everything, leaving Eliza to wonder in the dark.

Until Jace was ten. Valentine ultimately decided that Jace wasn't good enough for whatever plans he had and he faked his death again, leaving Jace in the hands of the Clave.

Eliza finished her dinner quietly. "Excuse me. I think I need to lie down, I've got the worst migraine." A migraine that would be attributed to one good blow Izzy had landed earlier.

"Feel better." Jace told her. She responded with a kind smile, murmuring a thank you.

Ever since the night in his room, Jace had been kinder. Softer with her. He sent warm smiles in her direction, was more patient when they trained, and they spent their sleepless nights in the music room as he taught her to play piano.

Izzy rolled her eyes as Eliza got up from the table. Eliza wandered the Institute for a few minutes before making her way back to the door. Not wanting to bother with the subway, she caught a cab.

The entire ride to Brooklyn, her legs shook. Her mind was buzzing.

Her mother.

He had found her.

She practically vaulted from the cab, running to the front steps of his building. She barely felt her feet touch the rickety stairs. The door to his apartment swung open and she rushed inside.

"Magnus? Magnus, where are you?" She called out.

My study, stop shouting.

She sighed heavily, making sure the door shut. She made her way to his study and shut the door. "I came as soon as I could. You said…you said you found her?"

Magnus beckoned her over. "I really don't know how I missed it before. I actually feel dumb for not figuring it out sooner."

Eliza hurried him along. "Magnus, you're rambling." She told him.

He closed his mouth firmly. After a moment, he agreed with her. "She goes by Jocelyn Fray. She lives in Park Slope. She's alive and she's here, in the city."

Her heart seemed to skip several beats. Her breath quickened. Her mother was in New York. Not just in New York, but in Brooklyn. Probably not far from Magnus' apartment itself.

"Eliza?" Magnus whispered softly. She looked up at him. "Do you want to see her?"

She nodded almost immediately. It wasn't a matter of if she wanted to or not. She had to. "I need her address. I'll go tomorrow."

Magnus pressed his fingers to her temple. Just the same as he had done when giving her the information to his own residence.

"There's another thing, little dove." Magnus said. She asked what it was. "Your mother has a daughter. Her name is Clarissa. She brings her to me so I can block the girl's Sight. She doesn't want her knowing anything about the Shadow World."

A sister. She had a sister. She swallowed, nodding. "Thank you, Magnus. I'll come here after and tell you everything I learn." He said he would hope so. "Did you get anywhere with the summoning?" He shook his head, saying no. "Well, one thing at a time then. I think I should go. Before Jace gets suspicious."

Magnus' face pulled a distraught look. She asked why he was making such a face. "I just…I wonder what you'll do with your Shadowhunter friends when you have to tell them the truth. About you and your…predicament."

She didn't want to think about that. She couldn't.

"It doesn't matter." She told him. "I can't think about how it's going to hurt them when they learn the truth. I can only think about helping our world." She couldn't think about the look on Izzy's face when she learned the truth. Izzy, who had been the first to welcome her in. And Alec, who had reassured her that she could be as good as them.

And Jace. She had manipulated him into trusting her and in a sick twist of events, fallen in love with him. He'd never forgive her. She didn't blame him.

"You deserve more, little dove." Magnus told her. "You deserve much more than what you've been given."

She really didn't think she did. Someone had to pay for her father's sins. And it wouldn't be anyone but her.

Green eyes stared back at her from the mirror. White-blonde hair roped into two thick braids. Dark black ink stood out against her porcelain skin. Runes. New, old and permanent ones graced her body.

She didn't know whether to wear gear or to wear normal clothes. Gear was the practical decision, but she didn't want to scare her mother.

In the end, she opted for gear. Dark black pants, boots, a black tank top. A seraph blade was tucked into the holster on her thigh, her stele stuck to the band on her bicep, her short-sword in its sheath on her back, two knives hidden in the silver bands on her wrist.

She wasn't sure where anyone was, but she easily slipped out of the Institute. She caught a cab to Park Slope in Brooklyn, resisting the urge to bite her nails on the ride.

Thanks to Magnus, she found her way to the apartment building. She locked her eyes on the door.

What if her mother wouldn't see her? Or worse, refused to help her?

No, that wouldn't happen. Once her mother knew why she was needed, Eliza was sure she would help. She had to help her.

"Girl, are you lost?"

Eliza looked up. The woman standing in front of her was elderly, her striped hair pinned to her head in a thick bun. She wore a brightly colored silk dress, a thick gold chain around her neck.

The woman repeated her question.

"Oh. No, I'm sorry. I'm just looking for someone. Jocelyn Fray?" The woman smiled tightly. "I had her commission a painting for me. I've just come to pick it up."

"Right. Of course. She's on the second floor, dear."

Eliza smiled kindly. "Thank you."

The woman nodded and hobbled along down the sidewalk. Eliza swallowed the lump in her throat and pushed the door of the brownstone building open.

The building was much nicer than the one Magnus resided in. It was upkept, at least. The stairs didn't creak as she went up them. The door didn't open at the touch of her hand. Her hand shook as she knocked loudly on the door.

Seconds passed, though it seemed like hours. She knocked again. "I'm coming! Hold on!"

Her heart clenched.

The door opened, slowly it seemed. Too slowly.

The woman was slim and tall, a slip of a person. Her painting smock hung on her loosely, her dark red hair pinned back, though curls still fell in her face. Her angular green eyes widened.

"Oh my God." She breathed. "It's you."

Eliza's fingers fiddled with the hem of her shirt. "It's me." She whispered.

Jocelyn Fairchild's eyes immediately narrowed. "You shouldn't be here. You're dead. Or…you should be."

She nodded. "There's an explanation. A long…a very lengthy and awful explanation. But there really isn't time right now. I need to come inside, and we need to talk."

Jocelyn's mouth formed a tight line. "You-."

Eliza held her hands up. "This isn't about us or…it's not about me. This is about him. And I know you have a daughter. Her name is Clarissa. Magnus told me."

She raised her eyebrows. "You've spoken with Magnus Bane? Wait, how do you know Magnus?"

Eliza glanced over her shoulder. "I really need to come inside. Is there somewhere private we can speak?"

Jocelyn glanced behind her. After a pregnant pause, she nodded. "My room. Come in." She opened the door wider, allowing Eliza inside. She shut the door quietly and lead Eliza through the apartment to her bedroom. She shut and locked the door. "Start talking."

Skeptical. As she thought she would be.

"I need your help. I need to know where the Mortal Cup is." There was some sort of awful fire in Jocelyn's eyes. A knowing fire. "It isn't like that!" Eliza said quickly. "I have to give it to the Clave."

"I need more than that if you expect me to help you." Jocelyn told her. Eliza frowned. Of course. She took out her short-sword and handed it to Jocelyn. "This…He made this for you after you were born. He couldn't bear the thought of you not having a Morgenstern family sword. He named it Eosphoros, Morning-Bringer. He said the morning sun was brighter after you were born. His own Morning Star."

Bile rose in her throat. Theatrics. Lies. She was sure her father had never really cared for her. How could he? He only wanted control over the Shadow World, nothing else.

"How do you have this?" Jocelyn asked, admiring the weapon. "I thought everything was lost in the fire."

"Not everything." Eliza admitted. "You know he's a liar. He lies to get what he wants. He used to tell me that I was the most important person in his world. He told me every night before bed. I used to think I was special to him. Now…now, I know he only said those things because he wanted me to find the Cup for him." Jocelyn's mouth tightened. She'd have to tell her everything to get her trust. Trust she needed because she needed help. "After the Uprising, he hid us away. And then he started the fire. He hid us-."

"What do you mean, us? Is he…is Jonathan…?"

Eliza nodded. "He's alive. And so is my father. That's why I'm here. He sent me here to find the Mortal Cup. He wants to finish what he started."

"Why you? Why not Jonathan? Or the both of you? Why not come himself?" So many questions, so little time.

She had to answer them all. "He doesn't trust me. It's a test. If I deliver the Cup, he knows I'm his. He wants me to prove my worth. He knows how loyal Jonathan is. And he couldn't come himself. He's dead." She hated the words she was about to say. The unspoken truth she had never admitted to. "I'm the insurance policy." She mumbled. "Marisol Hardtower hid us in her cottage. Until a few years ago. She no longer held use for Valentine."

"Give me one reason I shouldn't call the Conclave right now." Jocelyn's tone was icy.

Eliza stood up. "I won't give it to him. I won't let him destroy everything. I need the Cup, so I can hand it over to the Clave. So, I can tell them where he is. I must stop him. And I need you to help me. Magnus helped me find you and Hodge Starkweather…he runs the Institute but he's loyal to Valentine. He watches my every move for him."

Her eyes wandered the room. They landed on a photo of three people. The two females both had red hair. Jocelyn watched her gaze. She plucked the photo up and handed it to Eliza. "My daughter, Clary and Luke Garroway."

Her brain sparked. "He's a werewolf. I've met him. Well, we've run into each other." The werewolf from the alleyway.

Jocelyn's eyebrows raised. "You know Luke?"

She shrugged. "I got turned around in the city a few weeks ago. He was out with one of his pack, I think. He…He knew who I was. He scared me. I don't…The Downworlders really don't like me and I didn't know who they were. Magnus appeared and ran them off. Told me they were werewolves and that he didn't think that Luke would have hurt me."

She studied the girl's face. Her younger sister had the same bright green eyes as she did. She smiled softly, handing the photo back to Jocelyn.

"Luke was known as Lucian Greymark in Idris. Before you were born, he was Turned. Your father ran him off, but told me that Luke left on his own. He found me three years after I moved here. He helps a lot. He would never hurt you, not if he knew the truth as I do."

She believed her. Her heart swelled. Something in the apartment crashed.

"Sorry, Mom!" A girl yelled.

Jocelyn thrust the sword back into Eliza's hands. "You have to go. Clary can't know about any of this."

Eliza sheathed her short-sword. "Do you know where the Cup is?"

Jocelyn said yes. "That's all I can tell you right now. I have an appointment with Magnus soon. Be there and I'll tell you everything. I promise. But you have to go now."

She nodded. She glanced at the window, eyeing the fire escape. That would have to do. She didn't believe she'd get out the door without being spotted by her sister.

"Eliza." It was the first time she had directly addressed her by name. She looked at her mother. Jocelyn pulled her in, hugging her tightly. Shocked, Eliza stood there, embraced by her mother. Slowly, she put her arms around her, resting her head on her mother's shoulder. Jocelyn pulled away. She affectionately touched one of Eliza's braids. "I used to wear my hair in braids just like this." She smiled. "You don't know how happy I am to see you. To see that you're good." She whispered. There was something puzzling in her green eyes, but it dissipated quickly.

There was a quick knock on the bedroom door. "Mom?" Clary's voice was clear through the wood door.

Jocelyn frowned but Eliza smiled. "I know. I'll see you soon." Eliza slid the window open and slipped through the opening onto the fire escape.

Eliza tossed her weapons onto Magnus' coffee table. She slumped onto the couch. "Are you going to talk or what?" Magnus asked her.

Chairman Meow hopped into her lap, nudged at her hands. Rolling her eyes slightly, she began running her fingers through his fur. "She said she'd help me." She told him, trying to contain her excitement. She felt like a little mundane girl on Christmas morning, bursting with excitement. Magnus goaded her to continue. "She's…she's not exactly what I suspected. I mean, I assumed that maybe she had gone soft after all the years, but she seems even more resilient. And…she didn't seem so surprised that my father is alive. Almost like she expected him to come back." She murmured. "Nothing else matters other than the fact that she's going to help me. She said that when she brought Clary to you the next time, I would come, and she would tell me everything."

Magnus nodded, propping his feet onto the table. "Good. Things are coming along well for you, then. Do you think everything will happen the way you think it will?"

Her hand stopped on top of the cat's head. She hadn't really thought about it, to be honest. She had just assumed that everything would go perfectly to plan. It had to. "I can't afford to think anything else." She glanced at the clock, realizing how late in the day it was. "It's time I go. They'll wonder where I've been all day."

She stood up and passed the cat off to his owner. "I'll let you know when they come. It should be before my trip to Tanzania."

Tanzania? That was the first she was hearing of it! "You're leaving?" She asked him coldly. "You could have said something beforehand."

He told her to stop being childish. "Just for a few weeks. I'm a High Warlock, I have out-of-town business to attend to. You'll be fine without me."

She huffed a breath. She was being childish. But it was Magnus. He was her best friend. He knew everything about her. Well, he didn't know about Jonathan. But no one needed to know about Jonathan.

"I know that. I went seventeen years without you. I suppose I can go a few weeks. Just let me know when my mother is here." She told him.

He said he would.

Sometimes, she forgot how old Magnus was. He had lived for centuries, seen so many things and probably faced so much scrutiny for being a warlock. He was enchanting and wonderful and extremely kindhearted, despite everything. And he seemed to care for her! How odd!

"Your thoughts are too kind, little dove." Magnus teased her, his voice knowing. She pursed her lips at him. "You are too easy to read sometimes. I do appreciate the sentiment, Miss Morgenstern. Learn to give yourself some credit. You aren't so bad yourself."

Her sour expression melted into a soft smile. "Good-bye, Magnus. Please be safe on your trip and hurry back. I hate to say that I'll miss you."

"And I you, my little dove."