The House of Bones Alec and Magnus First Date Read Online

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It was Friday nighttime in Brooklyn, and the city lights were reflecting off the sky: orange-tinted clouds pressing summer heat against the sidewalks similar a flower between the pages of a book. Magnus walked the floor of his loft apartment alone and wondered, with what amounted to only mild interest, if he was about to be stood up.

Being asked out by a Shadowhunter had been among the top 10 strangest and most unexpected things that had ever happened to Magnus, and Magnus had ever endeavored to live a very unexpected life.

He had surprised himself past agreeing.

This past Tuesday had been a deadening day at home with the cat and an inventory list that included horned toads. Then Alec Lightwood, eldest son of the Shadowhunters who ran the New York Institute, had turned upwardly on Magnus's doorstep, thanked him for saving his life, and asked him out while turning fifteen shades between puce and mauve. In response Magnus had promptly lost his listen, kissed him, and fabricated a date for Friday.

The whole matter had been extremely odd. For i thing, Alec had come and said cheers to Magnus for saving his life. Very few Shadowhunters would have thought of doing such a affair. They thought of magic equally their right, due whenever they needed it, and regarded warlocks equally either conveniences or nuisances. Most of the Nephilim would as presently accept thought of thanking an elevator for arriving at the right floor.

Then there was the fact that no Shadowhunter had always asked Magnus out on a date before. They had wanted favors of several kinds, magical and sexual and strange. None of them had wanted to spend time with him, become out to a picture, and share popcorn. He wasn't fifty-fifty sure Shadowhunters watched movies.

It was such a simple thing, such a straightforward request--equally if no Shadowhunter had ever broken a plate because Magnus had touched information technology, or spat "warlock" as if it were a curse. As if all old wounds could be healed, made as though they had never been, and the world could become the mode it looked through Alec Lightwood's articulate blueish eyes.

At the time, Magnus had said yep considering he wanted to say yes. It was quite possible, however, that he had said yes because he was an idiot.

After all, Magnus had to go along reminding himself, Alec wasn't even all that into Magnus. He was merely responding to the only male attention he'd ever had. Alec was closeted, shy, obviously insecure, and obviously hung up on his blond friend Trace Wayland. Magnus was adequately certain that was the proper noun, but Wayland had reminded Magnus inexplicably of Will Herondale, and Magnus didn't want to recall nearly Volition. He knew the best mode to spare himself heartbreak was not to think about lost friends and not to become mixed up with Shadowhunters once more.

He had told himself that this date would be a bit of excitement, an isolated incident in a life that had become a little likewise routine, and goose egg more.

He tried non to think of the mode he'd given Alec an out, and how Alec had looked at him and said with devastating simplicity, I like you. Magnus had always thought of himself as someone who could wrap words around people, trip them upward or pull the wool over their eyes when he had to. It was amazing how Alec could only cut through information technology all. It was more astonishing that he didn't even seem to be trying.

As presently as Alec had left, Magnus had chosen Catarina, sworn her to secrecy, and so told her all about it.

"Did you agree to become out with him because you think the Lightwoods are jerks and y'all want to show them yous tin decadent their baby boy?" asked Catarina.

Magnus balanced his anxiety on Chairman Meow. "I do think the Lightwoods are jerks," he admitted. "And that does sound like something I'd do. Damn it."

"No, it doesn't really," said Catarina. "You're sarcastic twelve hours a day, simply you're almost never spiteful. You have a practiced centre under all the glitter."

Catarina was the one with the good heart. Magnus knew exactly whose son he was, and where he came from.

"Fifty-fifty if information technology was spite, no i could blame you lot, not afterwards the Circle, after all that happened."

Magnus looked out the window. In that location was a Smoothen eating place across the street from his business firm, its flashing lights advertising 20-four-hr borscht and coffee (hopefully not mixed together). He idea of the way Alec's hands had trembled when he'd asked Magnus if he wanted to get out, about how glad and astounded he had seemed when Magnus said yeah.

"No," he said. "It's probably a bad idea--information technology'due south probably my worst idea this decade--simply information technology had nothing to practice with his parents at all. I said yes because of him."

Catarina was quiet for a few moments. If Ragnor was around he would have laughed, but Ragnor had disappeared to a spa in Switzerland for a series of complicated facials meant to bring out the green in his complexion. Catarina had the instinct of a healer: she knew when to be kind.

"Good luck on your date, so," she said at last.

"Much appreciated, but I don't need good luck; I need assistance," said Magnus. "Just because I'm going on this date does non mean it will go well. I'thou very mannerly, just information technology does take two to tango."

"Magnus, think what happened the last time you tried to tango. Your shoe flew off and nearly killed someone."

"It was a metaphor. He'southward a Shadowhunter, he's a Lightwood, and he'south into blonds. He'south a dating hazard. I need an escape strategy. If the date is a complete disaster, I'll text you lot. I'll say 'Blue Squirrel, this is Hot Play a trick on. Mission to be aborted with extreme prejudice.' And then you lot phone call me and you lot tell me that there is a terrible emergency that requires my skilful warlock assistance."

"This seems unnecessarily complicated. It's your phone, Magnus; there'southward no need for code names."

"Fine. I'll just text 'Abort.'" Magnus reached out and drew his fingers from Chairman Meow'south head to his tail; Chairman Meow stretched and purred his enthusiastic approval of Magnus'southward taste in men. "Will you aid me?"

Catarina dragged in a long, bellyaching breath. "I volition help you," she promised. "But you lot've chosen in all your dating favors for this century, and you owe me."

"Information technology'due south a bargain," said Magnus.

"And if it all works out," said Catarina, cackling, "I want to be all-time woman at your wedding."

"I'm hanging up now," Magnus informed her.

He had made a bargain with Catarina. He had done more that: he had called and made reservations at a restaurant. He had selected a engagement outfit of ruby-red Ferragamo pants, matching shoes, and a black silk waistcoat that Magnus wore without a shirt because it did amazing things for his artillery and shoulders. And it had all been for naught.

Alec was one-half an hour belatedly. The probability was that Alec's nerve had broken--that he had weighed his life, consummate with his precious Shadowhunter duty, confronting a date with a guy he didn't even similar that much--and he was not coming at all.

Magnus shrugged philosophically, and with a casualness he did non quite experience, padded over to his drinks chiffonier and fabricated himself an exciting concoction with unicorn tears, energizing potion, cranberry juice, and a twist of lime. He'd look back on this and express joy one day. Probably tomorrow. Well, maybe the day after. Tomorrow he'd be hungover.

He might have jumped when the buzzer sounded through the loft, but there was nobody but Chairman Meow there to run across. Magnus was perfectly equanimous by the time Alec ran up the stairs and hurtled through the door.

Alec could not take been described as perfectly equanimous. His black pilus was going in every direction, similar an octopus that had been dropped in

soot; his breast was rising and falling hard under his pale-blue T-shirt; and there was a light sheen of perspiration on his face. It took a lot to make Shadowhunters sweat. Magnus wondered exactly how fast he had been running.

"Well, this is unexpected," said Magnus, raising his eyebrows. Still holding his true cat, he had flung himself lightly on the sofa, his legs hooked over one of the carved wooden arms. Chairman Meow was draped over his stomach and meowing in perplexity nigh the sudden alter in his state of affairs.

Magnus might have been trying a bit too hard to announced louche and unconcerned, but judging past Alec'due south crestfallen expression, he was really pulling it off.

"I'm sorry I'm tardily," Alec panted. "Jace wanted to practice some weapons training, and I didn't know how to get away--I mean, I couldn't tell him--"

"Oh, Jace, that'due south it," said Magnus.

"What?" said Alec.

"I briefly forgot the blond i's proper name," Magnus explained, with a dismissive flick of his fingers.

Alec looked staggered. "Oh. I'm--I'm Alec."

Magnus'south hand paused mid-dismissive-flick. The gleam of city lights through the window reflected off the blue jewels on his fingers, casting bright bluish sparks that caught burn down and then tumbled and drowned in the deep bluish of Alec'due south optics.

Alec had made an try, Magnus idea, though information technology took a trained centre to spot it. The light-blue shirt fit him considerably better than the unholy gray sweatshirt that Alec had been wearing on Tuesday. He smelled vaguely of cologne. Magnus felt unexpectedly touched.

"Yes," said Magnus slowly, and so he smiled slowly besides. "Your proper name I remember."

Alec smiled. Maybe it didn't affair if Alec did have a little affair for Apparently-Jace. Apparently-Jace was beautiful, but he was the sort of person that knew it, and they were frequently more problem than they were worth. If Jace was gilded, catching the light and the attention, Alec was silverish: so used to everyone else looking at Jace that that was where he looked too, then used to living in Jace'south shadow that he didn't await to exist seen. Maybe it was enough to exist the first person to tell Alec that he was worth existence seen ahead of anyone in a room, and of being looked at longest.

And silver, though few people knew it, was a rarer metal than gold.

"Don't worry virtually it," said Magnus, swinging himself easily off the couch and pushing Chairman Meow gently onto the sofa cushions, to the Chairman'due south plaintively voiced dismay. "Have a drink."

He pushed his own drink hospitably into Alec'due south manus; he hadn't fifty-fifty taken a sip, and he could brand himself a new 1. Alec looked startled. He was plainly far more nervous than Magnus had thought, because he fumbled so dropped the glass, spilling crimson liquid all over himself and the floor. There was a crash as the drinking glass hit the forest and splintered.

Alec looked like he had been shot and was extremely embarrassed about it.

"Wow," said Magnus. "Your people are really overselling your elite Nephilim reflexes."

"Oh, by the Angel. I am and then--I am so sorry."

Magnus shook his head and gestured, leaving a trail of blue sparks in the air, and the puddle of crimson liquid and broken glass vanished.

"Don't be sorry," he said. "I'one thousand a warlock. At that place'due south no mess I can't make clean upwards. Why practise you think I throw so many parties? Let me tell y'all, I wouldn't do it if I had to scrub toilets myself. Take you ever seen a vampire throw upward? Nasty."

"I don't actually, uh, know any vampires socially."

Alec'south optics were wide and horrified, as if he was picturing debauched vampires throwing up the blood of the innocent. Magnus was prepared to bet he didn't know any Downworlders socially. The Children of the Affections kept to their ain kind.

Magnus wondered what exactly Alec was doing here in Magnus'due south apartment. He bet Alec was wondering the same thing.

It might be a long dark, but at least they could both exist well-dressed. The T-shirt might evidence Alec was trying, but Magnus could exercise a lot better.

"I'll get y'all a new shirt," Magnus volunteered, and made his way to his bedroom while Alec was nonetheless faintly protesting.

Magnus'southward closet took upwardly one-half his sleeping accommodation. He kept significant to enlarge information technology. There were a lot of apparel in it that Magnus thought would look splendid on Alec, just equally he riffled through them, he realized that Alec might not capeesh Magnus imposing his unique fashion sense on him.

He decided to go for a more than sober selection and chose the black T-shirt that he had been wearing Tuesday. That was perhaps a petty sentimental of Magnus.

The shirt admittedly had blink if you desire me written on it in sequins, only that was near as sober as Magnus got. He tugged the shirt off its hanger and waltzed dorsum into the main room to find that Alec had already taken his own shirt off and was standing effectually somewhat helplessly, his stained shirt clenched in his fist.

Magnus stopped dead.

The room was illuminated only by a reading lamp; all the other light came from outside the windows. Alec was painted with streetlights and moonlight, shadows curling effectually his biceps and the slender indentations of his collarbones, his torso all smooth, sleek, bare pare until the dark line of his jeans. There were runes on the flat planes of his tummy and the silvery scars of former Marks snaked effectually his ribs, with one on the ridge of his hip. His head was bowed, his hair black as ink, his luminously pale skin white as paper. He looked similar a piece of art, chiaroscuro, beautifully and wonderfully made.

Magnus had heard the story of how the Nephilim were created many times. They must accept forgotten to go out out the bit that said: And the Angel descended from on high and gave his chosen ones fantastic abs.

Alec looked up at Magnus, and his lips parted equally if he was going to speak. He watched Magnus with wide optics, wondering at being watched.

Magnus exercised heroic self-control, smiled, and offered the shirt.

"I'chiliad--sorry virtually existence a lousy engagement," Alec muttered.

"What are y'all talking about?" Magnus asked. "Y'all're a fantastic date. You've just been here x minutes, and I already got one-half of your clothes off."

Alec looked equal parts embarrassed and pleased. He'd told Magnus he was new to all this, so anything more than mild flirting might scare him off. Magnus had a very at-home and normal date planned: no surprises, zero unexpected.

"Come on," said Magnus, and grabbed a red leather duster. "We're going to dinner."

The first function of Magnus's program, getting the subway, had seemed so unproblematic. And then foolproof.

It had not occurred to him that a Shadowhunter boy was not used to being visible and having to collaborate with the mundanes.

The subway was crowded on a Friday nighttime, which was not surprising only did seem to be alarming to Alec. He was peering around at the mundanes every bit if he had establish himself in a jungle surrounded by menacing monkeys, and he was still looking traumatized by Magnus's shirt.

"Can't I use a glamour rune?" he asked, equally they boarded the F train.

"No. I'm not looking like I'm alone on a Fri dark merely because you lot don't want mundanes staring at you lot."

They were able to grab two seats, merely information technology didn't appreciably better the situation. They sat awkwardly side by side, other people's chatter rushing all effectually them. Alec was utterly silent. Magnus was fairly sure he wanted nothing more than than to get home.

In that location were majestic and blue posters staring downwards at them, showing elderly couples looking sadly at ane another. The posters bore the words with the passing years comes . . . impotence! Magnus found himself staring at the posters with a sort of absent horror. He looked at Alec and found that Alec could not tear his eyes away either. He wondered if Alec was aware that Magnus was 3 hundred years old and whether Alec was because exactly how impotent 1 might become afterwards that much fourth dimension.

Ii guys came onto the train at the next finish and cleared a space right in forepart of Magnus and Alec.

1 of them began to dance by swinging himself dramatically effectually the pole. The other saturday cantankerous-legged and started beating time on a drum he'd carried in with him.

"Howdy, ladies and gentlemen and whatever else y'all got!" the dude with the dr

um called out. "We're gonna perform now for your entertainment. I hope you lot'll enjoy it. We telephone call information technology . . . the Butt Vocal."

Together they began to rap. It was quite evidently a song they had written themselves.

"Roses are red, and they say love's non made to last,

Just I know I'll never go enough of that sweet, sweet ass.

All that jelly in your jeans, all that junk in your torso,

I just gotta have information technology--one look and I was sunk.

If y'all ever wonder why I had to make yous mine,

It'south 'cause no other lady has a tush so fine.

They say you're non a looker, only I don't listen.

What I'm looking at is the view from behind.

Never been romantic, don't know what dear means,

But I know I dig the way you're wearing those jeans.

Hate to see you leave but love to lookout man y'all go.

Turn back, then leave again--babe do it slow.

I'k coming right afterwards, gonna make a laissez passer,

Can't become plenty of that sweet, sweet ass."

Nearly of the commuters seemed stunned. Magnus was not sure if Alec was but stunned or if he was likewise deeply scandalized and privately commending his soul to God. He was wearing an extremely peculiar expression on his confront and his lips were very tightly shut.

Under normal circumstances Magnus would accept laughed and laughed and given the buskers a lot of money. As it was, he was profoundly grateful when they reached their stop. He did fish out a few dollars for the singers as he and Alec left the train.

Magnus was reminded again of the extreme disadvantages to mundane visibility when a skinny freckled guy slipped by them. Magnus was simply thinking that he might have felt a manus snaking into his pocket when the guy gave a combination howl and screech.

While Magnus had idly wondered if he was existence pickpocketed, Alec had reacted like a trained Shadowhunter: he grabbed the guy'due south arm and threw him upwardly in the air. The thief flew, outstretched arms limply wagging, similar a cotton wool-stuffed doll. He landed with a crack on the platform, with Alec's boot on his throat. Another train rattled past, all lights and noise; the Friday night commuters ignored it, forming a knot of bodies in tight shiny dress and aesthetic hair around Magnus and Alec.

Alec'southward eyes were a lilliputian wide. Magnus suspected that he had been acting on reflex and had not actually intended to use strength meant for demon foes against a mundane.

The House of Bones Alec and Magnus First Date Read Online

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