Chapter 3 – The Woman in White

When Alec opened the door, he found himself face-to-face with a small, pale woman dressed from head-to-toe in immaculate white – from her elegantly tailored, knee-length coat to the polish on her carefully manicured nails, and the supple suede boots that clung to her slender calves. Her hair (the palest possible shade of gold) was drawn back into a tidy bun and sprinkled with shimmering white gemstones. Although she was fine-boned and beautiful, the effect was vaguely alarming, and her incongruously blue eyes stood out vividly against her colorless face. Despite her unusual appearance, however, she showed no sign of being anything other than human – she was certainly no Nephilim, and she bore no warlock's mark.

"I am here to collect warlock Bane," she said, eying Alec a little dubiously. "Master Angelotti sent me."

"I think…he'll be ready in a minute," Alec stammered, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment as he realized he was still wearing Magnus' rainbow-patterned apron. "Come in."

Alec showed her into the apartment, and the woman remained silent as she gazed rather disdainfully about the place. There was something oddly threatening in her movements and gestures, almost predatory, despite her diminutive stature – her expensive-looking boots added a good four inches to her height and yet the top of her head was only level with Alec's shoulder.

"Please, sit down," Alec said awkwardly. "I'll just go check on Magnus."

He gave the woman one last wary glance – she hadn't accepted his invitation to take a seat, and was merely stood watching him like a haughty alabaster statue – and made his way up to the bedroom. He found Magnus decked out in a fabulous fuchsia-colored cape, tight leather pants and a sleeveless t-shirt that left a good few inches of midriff on display. The warlock stood preening before an ornate mirror, applying his startling purple eyeliner with careful precision.

"Making yourself pretty for him, are you?" Alec said, unable to prevent the bitterness from creeping into his voice.

"I'm making myself pretty, certainly, but not for his benefit. Or yours. Or anyone else's for that matter. If you start trying to make me feel guilty for wanting to look my best, we're going to fall out again. And it's going to take more than a few cremated eggs to fix it." The warlock spoke calmly, but Alec could sense his boyfriend's impatience.

"I'm not…I didn't mean it like that," Alec mumbled. He cursed himself silently – why did he always have to say the wrong thing? When he thought about it rationally, he knew that Magnus had done nothing to betray him. But he simply couldn't control that cold, awful panic that kept clawing away at him from the inside, the panic that rose up at odd times and filled him with a blinding fear. He knew he was being ridiculous, that he was only alienating Magnus by behaving like this, yet somehow, there were times when he was unable to stop himself. And whatever Magnus said to reassure him, there was something about that vampire he simply didn't trust, and something his boyfriend clearly wasn't telling him, but he couldn't think of any way to frame his questions that wouldn't sound like an accusation.

"Look, would it put your mind at ease if you came with me?" Magnus asked, clearly sensing Alec's distress. "To Angelotti's house, I mean?"

"I…I guess," Alec admitted. "But it's not that I don't trust you, Magnus."

"I know. It's that you can't see me talking to another person – living or undead – without getting insanely jealous. It'd be almost cute if it weren't so annoying," he suddenly stopped arranging his hair in the mirror and turned to face Alec with an unusually stern expression on your face. "I shouldn't really be bringing you with me, you know. Customers tend to expect some level of privacy, and Angelotti may well be offended. I'm only doing this so you can see there's nothing between me and him. Nothing at all. And afterwards, you have to stop this, do you understand? You have to learn to trust me. Once you've seen that you have nothing to worry about, you've got to let it go."

"OK," Alec replied.

"And you'd better promise not to be rude," Magnus continued in the same steely, determined tone of voice. He was looking Alec very hard in the eye, and Alec couldn't help but feel a little shiver of desire run through him – he had always secretly admired that dark, masterful side to Magnus, the side the warlock so often concealed beneath his effervescent personality. There was hidden strength in him, an implacable core of power and secrecy that no one ever seemed to touch. It unsettled Alec at times, gave him the impression he was sailing on perilous waters with dark shadows drifting beneath him and no notion of what might happen next, but it attracted him too. And when Magnus looked at him like this – impaling him with those bright, feline eyes – Alec felt as if they were the only two people in the world.

"I promise," he said.

After a long limo ride, during which Alec gazed out of the window while Magnus exchanged stilted small-talk with the woman in white (who turned out to be named, rather fittingly, Bianca), they arrived at last before the gates of Angelotti's mansion. It was a grand, imposing edifice with white pillars on either side of the ornate double-doors. Bianca rapped the bronze door-knocker once, and within several seconds the doors slid soundlessly apart to admit them into the building, though there was no one waiting on the other side. Alec, who had seen enough of Magnus' stash of campy old horror movies to find this funny, let out a muffled giggle.

"Oh come on, he's playing kinda fast and loose with the vampire clichés isn't he?" Alec laughed, though he stopped short when Magnus threw him a warning look. Bianca eyed him coldly, narrowing her bright eyes in anger. She looked ready to tear him to pieces. "I mean…this is a lovely house," he amended lamely. This much at least was true – every inch of the hallway in which they stood was festooned in luxurious furnishings and ornamentation. Alec had never seen so much wealth and splendor hoarded in one place.

At that moment, a door swung open and a young woman stood before them, framed in eerie artificial radiance. This being a vampire's abode, there was no natural light to be seen, and all the windows were muffled in heavy drapes, though this woman was clearly no vampire herself. Like Bianca, she was seemingly a mundane, and she was swathed in a florid red ball-gown which trailed copiously to her feet in sleek, glimmering folds. Her waist-length hair was dyed a stunning shade of red. She was beautiful, with wondrous dark eyes and a heart-shaped face.

"Ah, Scarlett," Magnus smiled as he greeted the girl. "How long has it been? Eighty years?"

"Warlock Bane," she said politely, inclining her head. "You know it's rude to indicate a lady's age."

"Of course, dear, my apologies," Magnus said softly. "Now, I assume Angelotti is skulking about somewhere?"

"I shall summon our master," Bianca replied stiffly, casting a final disapproving look towards Alec, whom she had clearly taken a strong disliking to. "Scarlett, if you would see our guests into the parlor?"

Scarlett led them into a very grand room furnished in red and gold, and invited them to sit down. Alec perched himself on the edge of the couch and watched as Scarlett drifted dreamily from the room.

"What's with the color-coded names?" he asked, once he and Magnus were alone.

"Oh, Angelotti likes to give his human subjugates themed names," the warlock replied. "He used to call them his rainbow harem, or something like that."

"Human subjugates? Isn't that illegal?" Alec spluttered.

"It's illegal to create them now, but they've been with him for as long as I can remember," Magnus said with an idle wave of his hand. "All seven of them."

"Seven?" Alec repeated.

"Oh indeed, Angelotti always was prone to excess, particularly where ladies are concerned…one time, in Venice, I saw him gather a full dozen of them together and-"

But Alec never heard the gory details of Angelotti's exploits in Venice, as the man himself suddenly appeared in the doorway and Magnus stopped short. The vampire was dressed in a sumptuous silken robe, and didn't appear to be wearing much – if anything – underneath it. The neckline hung very low on his torso, revealing the tight contours of his chest. His golden hair was so elegantly tousled Alec suspected he had spent some time arranging it beforehand, and he suddenly felt acutely conscious of his own hair, which he had not even bothered to drag a comb through today.

"Greetings, friends," the vampire purred in his deep, melodious voice. "Magnus, and…Andrew, was it?"

"Alec." The Shadowhunter replied curtly. He was unsure whether Angelotti was actively trying to insult him or merely found him so dull that his name did not seem worth remembering.

"Of course. Do forgive me," he responded, not sounding remorseful in the slightest. "I say, but you do make a splendid couple, you two. I am most thrilled for you, Magnus. Of course you've had so many lovers over the years, my dear friend, yet this one plainly holds a special place in your heart. I see it written all over you."

"Perceptive as always, Angelotti," Magnus replied delicately. "Now, I assume you summoned me here for a purpose."

"Lorks, how dull you've become," Angelotti droned, his full lips curling into a bright smile. He had the kind of smile that transformed his face, so dazzling that he almost seemed to radiate warmth and geniality. Yet he was sullen in repose, and a certain coldness seemed to steal into his countenance; the hollows beneath his cheekbones deepened, and the lines of his face hardened. Although Alec's dislike for the vampire was growing by the second, he had to privately admit that Angelotti was stunningly beautiful – the curves and planes of his finely-sculpted features bore a natural elegance Alec couldn't help but envy. He himself was blessed with none of that grace, that grandeur, he would never know what it was to enter a room and see a multitude of faces turn to stare in admiration. Although it wasn't necessarily something he craved, he wished suddenly that he could understand what it felt like, just for one moment. He had always felt safer hiding on the edge of things, invisible and unnoticed. Growing up with Jace and Izzy, his own wallflower status had been practically set in stone. Jace had always possessed the kind of searing magnetism that drew people toward him like moths to a flame, and Izzy was the most stunning girl he knew – she wielded her beauty like a weapon. And then came Magnus, who had shot into his life like a bolt of lightning, and burned just as bright. Alec had grown so accustomed to being overlooked that it had seemed strange and almost terrifying when Magnus' eyes had first fixed upon him. But he had never been able to shake off that sense of inferiority, that sheer disbelief that anyone as vibrant and alluring as Magnus would think him worthy of their time, let alone love him. It had seemed like a dream – the kind of gorgeous, delicate dream that always came to him on the verge of waking, when consciousness was just beginning to trickle through his mind. Those were the worst kind of dreams, when he knew perfectly well that he would wake any minute and that none of the things before his eyes were real, but he clung to them anyway, willing himself not to wake. But he always did. And sometimes, when Magnus looked at him, he felt that he was clinging to a desperate fantasy that became more fragile by the minute, that any day now he would open his eyes and Magnus would be gone.

Suddenly, the door swung open and a third human subjugate appeared – this one lavishly draped in verdant green – and offered the three of them refreshments, which they all declined.

"Let me guess…Cabbage?" Alec asked, once the woman had flitted from the room.

"Her name is Ivy," Angelotti responded tersely. It was his turn to look offended now, and Alec felt a little thrill of satisfaction at the vampire's obvious annoyance. "Now, shall we proceed?"

"I'm ready when you are," Magnus said, his expression unreadable.

"I'm afraid my matter is of a somewhat…delicate nature," Angelotti said carefully. "I must speak with you alone, Magnus. Would you care to accompany me to my private chamber? Your little friend may remain here."

Angelotti rose smoothly to his feet and strutted from the room without so much as a glance at Alec. Magnus gave a brief sigh and followed him, giving Alec's hand a gentle squeeze before he left. Alec slumped down moodily on the couch, growing increasingly annoyed and agitated as the minutes passed, and Magnus did not reappear. Several times he climbed to his feet and began to pace the length of the elegant room, but he always ended up collapsing back down into the same position, twiddling his thumbs and trying to prevent his thoughts from tumbling down the same dark, destructive paths as before. He tried to dismiss his suspicions, his doubts, but instead they only seemed to grow and fester at the back of his mind until he almost started yelling aloud. By the time Magnus finally re-appeared he was practically frantic – he didn't know precisely what he was afraid of, only that he was afraid – and the warlock's unreadable demeanor did little to alleviate his fear and suspicion. They did not speak on the journey home, and merely sat in brooding silence under the watchful gaze of Bianca, each of them lost in their own private thoughts.

A/N - not the best chapter, I know, but things should get more interesting from here!