Hey, me again.
To Bonnie; no worries. I'm sorry I sounded like a twat, thanks for reading regardless! 3
The thank you goes for everyone who reads this- I hope you like it :)
I don't own the Mortal Instruments, Tokio Hotel or Bill Kaulitz. (Though if I HAD to make out with someone of the male gender to save the universe, it would definitely be him! Only if the universe was at stake though. Otherwise, sorry males of the world, it's not gonna happen.)
Clary's hair whipped about her face, slashing fiery streaks across her view of the park. Specifically, Jace. He was sprawled under a tree, a jacket pillowed under his head, sleeping uneasily. His rumpled golden hair was fluffed into a jagged mess as he tossed and turned, a little too pale, eyelids flickering. More bad dreams.
"No, please-" he whimpered, totally out of character. "Leave him alone!"
"Jace, honey?" Clary squeezed his tense, trembling bicep, urging him to wake. He didn't.
"No! Don't hurt him… don't hurt Alec!" She shook his shoulder, but Jace didn't open his eyes. "Get away from him, vampire, or I swear on the Angel I'll kill you!"
"Leave him. He won't wake. Not yet." Clary's head snapped up. Camille regarded her amusedly, piercing eyes cold and superior, hair fluttering like the feathers of a dead bird in the wind. "It is no ordinary dream."
"Stop it, whatever it is. Alec is Jace's parabatai, making him think something's happening to him is just cruel!"
"And what's really happening to him, that isn't cruel? Feeling the slow decay of his life slipping away, knowing that it could end at any time, while Magnus basks in eternal life, young and beautiful forever."
"What do you care about Alec?"
"I do not, not particularly; I am just pointing out what you have overlooked. Alexander is being hurt. More so with every passing minute."
Clary looked down at her shoes. She liked Alec a great deal, but they didn't know each other overly well, and she didn't think of him that much. That said, it was obvious that Camille was right.
"Maybe. But why are you telling me this now, and what have you done to Jace?"
"Oh, he's just getting a little taste of what is to come. Call it payback, if you will, though I detest such modern terms. I prefer the term revenge."
In Taki's, Magnus leaned back in his chair, stretching his long, lithe body like a tired cat; arching his back so that his shirt rode up, displaying a strip of smooth caramel skin, the small shadow where hipbone gave way to the flat stomach sloping down the front of his skinny jeans. As he did so, a werewolf man at the next table choked on his coffee and hastily looked away; trying to pretend he hadn't been staring and causing a wicked grin to quirk up Magnus' lips.
He took a long, slow sip of his own frothy coffee, 'accidentally' leaving a smear of cream across his bottom lip, then licked it away indulgently, catching the werewolf's eye with a smirk. What a tease, he thought, chuckling internally. He always had been that way.
A few minutes later, Magnus found himself musing whether to take Alexander to Germany or Italy next. He missed Italy, with its pounding sunshine and knack for fashion, but he hadn't been to Germany in ages, and Berlin was brilliant. Just as he had begun staging a mental spaghetti versus lebkuchen battle to decide, a shadow licked across his line of vision, alerting the distracted warlock to the presence of another. It was the werewolf he'd been teasing earlier.
"Hey, I'm James and I'd like it if you'd call me," he grinned, floppy blonde hair glinting in the lamplight. He was sort of cute. Nothing on Alec.
"Sorry darling, but I'm spoken for."
"He wouldn't have to know."
"Really spoken for, by a rather jealous shadowhunter. He would quite literally hunt you down and slaughter you, and frankly that would be wasting a delectable McQueen jacket." Magnus gestured to the jacket appreciatively, setting down his coffee and making to leave.
"Wait. Are you Magnus Bane?" Magnus narrowed his eyes.
"The Magnificent High Warlock, yes." The werewolf leaned closer, concern surging over his previously playful features.
"Then you know the vampire, the one who walks in sunlight."
"We are acquainted." Magnus was puzzled. What did a random werewolf want with Ratboy?
"Well, tell him to watch his back. Especially at that big vampire meeting tonight." He tried to walk away, brushing against Magnus as he did so, but the warlock clicked and he found tendrils of blue fire pushing him down into the vacant chair opposite. Magnus sat too, playful tone utterly abandoned, ignoring the indignant eyes.
"I am aware of the meeting, though I did not think the Daylighter would attend."
"I heard he is. And that obnoxious leader of theirs…what's his name? Young-looking, dark hair, kind of sexy-"
"Raphael?"
"Yeah, that one. I heard he's planning to get the Daylighter alone afterward, and kill him. With poison, apparently."
"Your source?"
"If anyone asks, I didn't tell you, okay? But a friend of mine in the Praetor Lupus is investigating a new vamp in the Dumont, he hears a lot of things others don't."
Magnus bit his lip, still sweet from the sugary coffee. This was bad. The Mark of Cain protected against physical attacks, but poison? It wasn't worth the risk.
"Well, thank you James. I'll see to it he doesn't succeed." With a snap of his fingers, the werewolf was released from the chair, but he didn't leave. He gently gripped Magnus' arm, worry clouding his pale blue eyes.
"Be careful. I mean it. Vamps can get really nasty, and a hotel full of them…just remember to look out for yourself. You're cute." He ran his rough fingers down to Magnus' hand, lightly stroking his palm. "Very, very cute. Sure you can't call me?"
The warlock untangled his hand and stood, glitter sprinkling their table.
"Very, very sure. But that guy over there?" he gestured to a foxy blue-eyed werewolf in a long coat, sitting across the restaurant, reading a Downworld newspaper. "He was totally checking you out."
He left without another word, tossing down some money for the coffee and striding out onto the street, hurrying to the Institute. Alec needed to hear about this 'plan' of Raphael's.
Clary still wasn't sure why Camille had wanted to talk to her, or what she meant, or how she'd given Jace that nightmare but she'd left them alone. Jace had woken, but he looked shaken, skin the colour of cigarette ash stirred into milk. Clary held him close, wishing she could take away his pain.
"Camille had Alec…" he murmured into her hair, laboured breaths hot Clary's ear. "She was- she was forcing him to- drink blood."
"Shh, Jace, it's okay, it was just a dream," A taste of what is to come, the vampire had said. What could that mean?
"She was biting him, and the blood-" shaky breath. "It was all over him-" shaky breath. "His blood and hers-" shaky breath. "And Alec was screaming; like I've never heard him before, even worse than after he fought with Abbadon…"
Cold wind stung Clary's skin, peppered with tiny beads of moisture. Rain was coming.
"Come on, Jace. Let's get you home. Alec will be there, and you'll see that he's fine. Besides, Camille could never hurt him, not with you, Izzy and Magnus looking out for him. And me and Simon, not that we'd be much help, but she'd never be able to, Jace. You'd never let her."
Jace's eyes were cold and flat, shining but not alive, like the surface of a glass of apple juice.
"I've let him down before. Who's to say I won't do it again?"
Alec's room at the Institute was pleasant but plain. A vast, unmade bed dominated it, lying just under a large window through which light streamed like white water, spilling into the room and casting shadows on the rumpled duvet. The desk next to it was littered with countless books and coffee cups, and on the opposite side of the room a sturdy wardrobe that had been left half open, a jumbled mess of sweaters and shadowhunting gear visible inside. The only real colour in sight was Magnus, an oasis in the proverbial desert.
He didn't mind the scruffiness at all, his apartment was only ever tidied with magic, when he had guests; in fact he liked the disarray, it showed Alec was comfortable with him. They never bothered to clean up for each other anymore.
Alec lay, eyes closed, with his head in Magnus' lap, quietly enjoying the feeling of the warlocks' slender fingers twining in his hair, and the sound of a Tokio Hotel song drifting in through his window from an apartment nearby.
"I love Tokio Hotel," he mused sleepily "Their lead singer is hot. Not as hot as you…although you kind of look similar." Magnus grinned.
"He said that, actually. And you would like them Alexander, they speak German." Alec opened his eyes, bright blue streaked with black from under his long lashes.
"You've met Bill Kaulitz?"
"Yes, when he was doing a shoot for German Vogue. He asked to borrow my eyeliner and- actually, you don't need to know the rest." He was afraid that Alec would scowl, as he sometimes did when people from the past were mentioned, but he just chuckled.
"You and him in the same bed; that's like a bed of honey!"
"Well technically it wasn't a bed…more of a sink, but 'sink of honey' just doesn't sound as good!"
Alec laughed and brushed their fingertips together, so lightly it was like the touch of a butterfly, but enough to make Magnus' heart contract. He loved this boy too much for his own good. That's why he had been thinking about immortality- too much, though he'd never tell Alec that. When alone at night, he wouldn't be able to sleep, obsessing…but anyway, he needed to do what he came here to do. Tell the shadowhunters about Raphae's plan.
"Darling, I need to tell you something. No! No, stop worrying!" he added, when Alec sprang up, looking horrified. He pulled him back down, firmly but gently. "I'm fine, you're fine, it's okay. You know that big vampire meeting, the one that's happening tonight at the Dumont?"
"Of course. They always have one around this time of year, so the leaders can sort out any big problems they've got. Though I hear it usually turns into a we-hate-werewolves bitching session."
"Well, this guy tried to pick me up in Taki's earlier, and when I turned him down he was like 'are you Magnus Bane' and then he told me all this stuff about the meeting, stuff he heard from the Praetor. Stuff you need to know."
Fin. Yes, Raphael is jumping on the mean-person bandwagon. Hope you enjoyed!
Love, China. xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx P.S. The gold star stuck in my keyboard is currently residing under my 'l' key, so sorry if any are missing! xx