Archive of Our Own

The warlock’s body was mangled nearly beyond recognition. Magnus traced his fingers across the jagged wounds lining up and down the body’s torso, peering closer at the burnt edges of its flesh.

He grimaced, thinking about the last body they found abandoned by a sewer drain, a haunting image with a bruised throat and glassy eyes. Each victim was murdered a different way, which did not make it easy to find a connection to the killer — or killers, in this case.

There was a heavy sigh behind him, and Magnus rolled his eyes out of sight of the shadowhunter standing a few feet away. He could get his work done a lot quicker without the distraction, but the Nephilim always had to send one of their own to these scenes, even for incidents that had nothing to do with them. This time, it was the tall one who always looked like he had a migraine. At least he kept out of his way.

“Magnus,” he started, and Magnus bristled. Maybe he’d given him too much credit.

At the cold look Magnus sent him, the shadowhunter closed his eyes and tried again. “High warlock, are you sure you should be back out here so soon? You’re still recovering from last week’s attack.”

Magnus’ scowl deepened. Apparently, he wasn’t as good at hiding his aching movements as he thought. “I appreciate your concern, shadowhunter,” he said. “But I assure you, I’m fine. There’s no one better equipped to handle this situation than myself. As the high warlock, it is my duty to keep my people in line, and I intend to.”

He really did. This latest bought of violence had gone on for too long already, and it was even worse for him that all the culprits happened to be warlocks.

It was always the young ones that got into trouble. A crew of inexperienced warlocks who’d grossly overestimated their abilities had the bright idea a few weeks ago to summon a Greater demon to do their bidding, and in doing so, they fell under its control. Over the past month, they had killed nine people and stirred up endless chaos among the downworld.

Efforts to trace their hideout was yielding minimal progress, and to add to his humiliation, Magnus almost got himself killed a few days ago trying to track them by himself. Catarina had been extremely hesitant to clear him to investigate today when this body turned up, but he wasn’t going to take no for an answer.

But this shadowhunter didn’t need to know that.

When said shadowhunter looked unconvinced at Magnus’ words of reassurance, he rolled his eyes again, this time where the man could see. “Look, I know you Nephilim like to undermine downworlders every chance you get, but I’m the high warlock for a reason. I’m your best shot at finding the people behind this, and when I do, I can stop them. So if you want to be helpful, I suggest you let me do my job and stay out of my way.”

The shadowhunter’s face hardened as Magnus spoke, but when he was done, he just nodded and gestured for Magnus to continue. Magnus raised an eyebrow. He usually encountered more resistance than that after one of his rants. Opting not to push his luck, Magnus turned back to the dead warlock.

When Magnus was finished, he stood up and brushed off his knees with a flourish, spinning around to face the shadowhunter again. “He hasn’t been dead long,” he said. “He appears to still have all his valuables on him, just like the others did. I suspect the wounds are from some kind of demonic weaponry, rather than direct magic, which means there were likely two or three people involved.”

“From our evidence and witness reports, we have reason to believe at least six warlocks have been possessed,” the shadowhunter said. He paused for a moment, hesitating before he continued. “We would like to take this body back to the New York Institute for further examination.”

“And why would that be necessary?” Magnus asked, crossing his arms.

“We have a team of some of the best forensic pathologists in the city who would like to take a closer look at the type of magic we’re dealing with. A body this fresh has a better chance at  revealing useful information, or so I’ve been told.”

Magnus sighed, and acquiesced with a gentle wave. “Fine. Better than doing the dirty work myself, I suppose.”

The shadowhunter sent off a quick fire message to the Institute, shoving his stele in his pocket when he was done. “We’ll notify you as soon as we have any updates.”

Magnus gave the shadowhunter a brief nod. “Thank you…” he trailed off, frowning, “sorry, I don’t think I ever caught your name?”

The shadowhunter pursed his lips, looking like his migraine had just intensified. He wouldn’t meet Magnus’ eyes, instead staring down at the body before them.

“It’s Alec Lightwood.”

The next time Magnus heard from the shadowhunters, it was in a summons to the New York Institute several days later.

“Best team of forensic pathologists my ass,” Magnus spat through gritted teeth.

The fire message was from yet another Lightwood, asking him for assistance evaluating the warlock’s body. Though there was a part of Magnus that wanted to refuse the request — thinking back to the other Lightwood’s promise that the Institute could handle this just fine — he knew better than to pick a fight with the Nephilim for no good reason.

Stepping out of the portal into the Institute, Magnus strode through the halls with purpose, ignoring the curious glances other shadowhunters sent his way. He was more focused on a sudden pressure that had cropped up behind his eyes. It was certainly annoying, but it wasn’t severe enough to cause him much concern. He was sure a little busywork would distract him.

When he entered the laboratory, he found Alec speaking with a woman Magnus assumed was his sister, Isabelle, based on their resemblance. Their conversation appeared terse, and cut off when he entered the room as Alec spotted him. Following her brother’s gaze, Isabelle turned to see him and adopted a soft smile.

“Magnus,” she said, and he stiffened. Before he could correct the woman though, Alec elbowed her side. Glancing back to see Alec’s warning look, Isabelle’s lips thinned, but she didn’t argue. “Mr. Bane,” she started again, “thank you for coming.”

“I don’t know that I had a choice, but you’re welcome,” Magnus said, shifting his eyes over to Alec, who appeared noticeably uncomfortable, like he would rather be anywhere else in that moment. “I’m interested to see what the best pathologists in New York have come up with.”

Isabelle quirked her eyebrow at Alec, but he just shrugged in return. “Well, I’ll let you get to it,” Alec said, taking his cue to leave. He stopped for a second when he was in the doorway, turning back to his sister. “Iz, remember what I said.”

Alec was gone before either of them could reply. Magnus chose not to ask what that was about when he spun around and saw Isabelle shaking her head at the door. Instead, he walked over to the corner of the room, where a pile of protective gear was waiting.

“So,” Magnus said, rolling on a pair of gloves. “What have you uncovered so far?”

“The killers’ energy signal is unlike anything I’ve ever seen before,” Isabelle said while she stared at a screen above the body. “There are traces of both warlock and demonic magic in the victim’s bloodstream, but I can’t separate one from the other. They seem to have morphed together somehow, like a magical mutation. I assume it’s a result of the demon taking control of the warlocks’ powers.”

“I’d say that’s a safe bet,” Magnus said, stepping forward to look at the corpse. “Why do you need me here if you already know this?”

“Like I said, I’ve never seen this before, so I’m not sure the best way to respond to this type of magic. I was hoping maybe you’ve dealt with something similar in your experience?”

“Not directly, I’m afraid,” Magnus said. Isabelle’s shoulders slumped. “From what I’ve heard from others who have, this combination is infinitely more dangerous and trickier to combat.”

“But it’s possible?” Isabelle asked, looking away from the screen to pin him with an intense stare. “There’s a way to reverse it?”

“I don’t think there is any way you can bring these poor people back to life, unfortunately,” Magnus said, glancing down at the dead warlock between them. “If we were lucky enough to find someone before they were dead, that might be a different story. I’d guess it would just depend on the severity of their injuries, but any encounter with this type of magic is going to be difficult to cure.”

Magnus didn’t know how to feel about the almost desperate glint in Isabelle’s eyes. “And you’re sure you haven’t come across something like this before?”

Magnus shook his head. “I’m sorry, but this situation isn’t exactly common. There aren’t many warlocks dumb enough to think they’re strong enough to overpower a Greater demon.”

The rest of their examination went smoothly, and Magnus left the lab a few hours later, satisfied with what information the autopsy revealed.

As he was walking down a hallway near the Institute’s exit, Magnus heard a familiar voice coming from a nearby room.

‘What is Raphael doing here?’ Magnus wondered.

Slowing to a stop, he moved closer to the door, and Magnus was surprised to recognize it as the entrance to the head of the Institute’s office. Raphael visiting the Institute was one thing, but surely he would have told him if he’d been called in for a meeting with the head, wouldn’t he?

“—shouldn’t have brought him here,” Raphael was saying, tension bleeding through his tone.

“Do you think I wanted him here, Raphael?” Magnus’ eyes widened when Alec’s voice followed the accusation. “I didn’t ask for him to come. Izzy sent him that fire message without telling me.”

“Then you need to keep your people in line,” Raphael hissed. “It’s not safe for him to be here right now.”

“No one understands that better than I do. You know that,” Alec said, equally sharp. “If I had it my way, Magnus wouldn’t be anywhere near here.”

Magnus was too irritated to be confused by what he was hearing. He’d heard enough. He couldn’t fathom why the Institute would be a more dangerous place for him than any other spot in the city, but Magnus figured their concerns had to do with his recent attack, yet again.

Which was ridiculous. He was more than 400 years old. He didn’t need to be babysat, least of all by a bunch of shadowhunters.

Pushing his way through the door before either of them could say anything else, Magnus said, “Not that it’s any of your business, but I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself, regardless of the company I’m in.”

Alec and Raphael froze at the sight of him. He probably would have found their horrified expressions amusing if he weren’t so frustrated.

“Magnus, I—” Raphael said, but Magnus held up a hand to stop him.

“Enough, Raphael. I think you’ve said plenty,” he said. “I expected better from you. I understand I must’ve scared you last week, but I’m fine now. I’m not just going to hide away in my loft and wait this out because you’re scared of me getting hurt again.”

“Magnus, I can explain,” Raphael started again, but Magnus wasn’t having it. He shut him up with an unimpressed stare.

“You can explain yourself later. Now isn’t the time or place to get into this,” Magnus said with a pointed glance at Alec, who had remained silent through their exchange. The shadowhunter straightened to full height when Magnus looked at him, a grimace returning to his face. 

Magnus turned back to Raphael to find the vampire also looking at Alec, his expression torn between apologetic and warning. Alec gave him a nod, seeming to communicate something Magnus didn’t understand. Before Magnus could ask, Raphael let out an angry sigh and darted out of the room, leaving Magnus and Alec alone in the office.

Magnus huffed. Raphael wasn’t going to get out of talking about this later.

When Magnus didn’t say anything immediately following Raphael’s departure, Alec moved to the end of the room to take a seat at the large wooden desk sitting there. Magnus thought that maybe he should leave, now that Raphael was gone, but something kept him there a little longer.

“So,” he said, taking a few steps into the room. “You didn’t tell me I’ve been working with the head of the Institute. These are things a high warlock should know.”

“It’s not exactly a new development,” Alec said while he scribbled something on a report.

“Oh, really? I thought mommy and daddy were running things around here,” Magnus said, relishing a bit in the glare Alec shot him across the room. “Forgive me. It just seems like you’re a bit younger than the shadowhunters that typically hold the role.”

“I’ve been training for this since I got my first rune,” Alec said, rummaging through his desk. A second later, he stood up with a small satchel in his hand and started making his way to Magnus. “And the place hasn’t burnt down yet, so I’d say I’m doing okay.”

“Quite an impressive feat,” Magnus hummed. “Your parents must be proud.”

Alec’s steps faltered when he got closer to Magnus, and Magnus saw his jaw tick. His words must have struck a nerve, and with some thought, Magnus thought he understood why. He’d only had the pleasure of meeting Robert and Maryse Lightwood on a couple of occasions, but during those, they didn’t exactly strike him as the most loving parents in the world.

The flash of emotion in Alec’s eyes was gone as soon as it appeared, and then he was taking the final steps forward to hold out the satchel for Magnus to take.

“What’s this?” Magnus asked, reaching out to grab the bag.

“Payment,” Alec said as Magnus looked inside to find a collection of gold coins, “for your consultation with Izzy. We appreciate your help.”

Magnus blinked at the coins. He didn’t know why the sight of them caught him so off guard. He always demanded payment for any service he provided, especially for Nephilim. But for some reason, the prospect of payment had not once entered his mind during his visit to the Institute that day.

That didn’t mean he was going to refuse Alec’s offer though. Shaking himself out of his thoughts, he nodded once to the shadowhunter. “Well, I’d best be going,” he said. “Good doing business with you, Mr. Lightwood.”

Alec’s eyes flashed again, but it didn’t register as Magnus turned on his heel and left the room, pocketing the satchel as he went. He rubbed at his temple as he walked toward the front door, that once annoying pressure having elevated into an all-out pounding headache.

Maybe Raphael had a point. He should get some extra rest tonight.

The following week was unexpectedly quiet, but it did not do much to set Magnus at ease. On the contrary, as each day passed without Magnus hearing anything from the Institute or his friends, it set him more on edge.

He occupied himself by doing research on demonic possessions. He didn’t have the most extensive collection of magical texts compared to other warlocks he knew, but reading through them made him feel useful… for a couple days. Eventually though, it just made him feel like he was wasting precious time.

Finally, during one long night getting nowhere as usual, Magnus cracked and decided to call Luke.

“Lucian,” he said when Luke answered, scanning through his shelves and tossing one book he didn’t recognize over his shoulder. “Please tell me your pack has made some progress, because we really should have gotten somewhere by now, and I’ve hit a dead end.”

“Umm,” Luke started, making Magnus freeze in his tracks. He could hear the clear sounds of growling on the other end of the line. “Well, as a matter of fact—”

“What is going on over there?” Magnus asked, every line of his body tense.

“I think you’d better get over here,” Luke said, his voice resigned. “We just caught one of the warlocks.”

“What?”

“Just come over. We’ll explain everything when you get here,” Luke said.

Not two minutes later, a portal opened right outside the Jade Wolf, with Magnus stalking out of it. He made a bee line toward Luke when he spotted him talking to a redheaded shadowhunter, wincing at a sharp sting running up the back of his neck that he figured was related to the fierce irritation thrumming through his veins.

“What. The. Hell. Happened?” he asked the moment he was within hearing range. The small redhead looked taken aback by his presence, but was the first to offer him an explanation.

“One of Luke’s pack members volunteered himself as bait to catch one of the warlocks. He saw one lurking around Chinatown a few days ago, so we planned to lure them into an ambush tonight. There were two — a man and a woman. The woman got away, but we were able to disarm the man and take him into custody.”

The shadowhunter spoke so quickly, Magnus struggled to keep up with everything she was saying. But one thing was for sure, by the time she was finished, Magnus wasn’t just annoyed anymore. He was furious.

“Where is he now?” Magnus spoke through gritted teeth.

“A couple shadowhunters just took him back to the Institute,” she said, marginally subdued from a moment ago.

Magnus barely spared her a glance, choosing instead to look at Luke. “Why wasn’t I informed about any of this? I wasn’t even told that one of the warlocks had been spotted, let alone that you were planning an ambush!”

When Luke couldn’t come up with an answer right away, the shadowhunter spoke up again.

“Alec said he thought it was best if you weren’t involved in the mission. We—”

“Clary…” Luke stopped her, a frustrated pinch between his brows.

“Excuse me,” Magnus said with a ferocity behind his eyes that made the shadowhunter — Clary — pale. “Your leader’s wishes mean nothing to me.” Clary flinched, and he turned his glare onto Luke. “And since when did you start taking orders from shadowhunters?”

“We all thought it was best this way, Magnus,” Luke said firmly. “The fewer people who knew about the operation, the less chance there was of things going awry. We were able to handle everything just fine.”

“Clearly,” Magnus spat. “One warlock getting away and who knows how many still at large is perfectly fine. In fact, I’d say it’s ideal.” He rolled his eyes and turned away from them, watching as the remaining shadowhunters and werewolves dispersed. “Screw this, I’m going to the Institute. I need to deal with this warlock myself.”

“Wait, Magnus.” Luke’s hand grabbing his arm stopped him from creating a portal. He glared at the man, letting a shower of red sparks escape his hand, but Luke was undeterred. “You and I both know it’s not wise for you to go to the Institute like this. Take the rest of the night to cool down. The warlock will still be there in the morning. The Institute’s holding cells are one of the most secure places for him to be right now.”

Magnus glowered, debating with himself for a moment, before relenting. “Fine,” he said, yanking his arm out of Luke’s grip. He pinned Clary with a harsh stare. “But you tell your leader that if I come tomorrow and find out that the warlock has been transported to Idris overnight, he’s going to have a much bigger problem on his hands than a group of rogue warlocks running around.”

His speech did not inspire the level of fear in the shadowhunter that he’d hoped it would. In fact, the woman’s expression was almost friendly. Magnus would dare to call it amused if he didn’t know any better.

“He’s not going anywhere,” Clary said, the ghost of a smirk on her face. “You have my word.”

Bright and early the next morning, Magnus was striding through the Institute’s halls once again. He pulled the first shadowhunter he saw aside to ask where Alec was. He wanted a word with him before he dealt with the warlock.

“He’s downstairs interrogating the fugitive,” the shadowhunter said, and Magnus groaned. Of course he was.

“Isn’t that the type of work he should be delegating to the rest of you?”

The shadowhunter looked distinctly uncomfortable by his question. “Normally, yes. But this is… sort of a special circumstance?”

Magnus didn’t have the time or the patience to unpack what that meant, so instead he just asked the man to direct him down to the holding cells. Walking down the stone steps, Magnus heard voices before he saw the figures they belonged to. It took him a moment to realize that it was Alec he was hearing, unfamiliar with the rage in his tone. 

When he stepped into the room, he saw Alec and Isabelle standing together in the furthest cell. Even from across the room, the tension in Alec’s shoulders was obvious. Magnus’ stomach flipped uneasily at the wary glances he saw Isabelle shooting her brother.

Though Alec typically had a pretty cold disposition, this was a new level of anger Magnus hadn’t seen from him yet. Evidence of his fury became all the more apparent as Magnus got closer. Alec’s jaw was clenched. His fists were tight and trembling at his sides, but he made no move to strike the warlock with them where he was shackled to a metal chair.

Despite Alec’s palpable rage, Magnus couldn’t help but marvel that the man was just as stunning as usual. Most Nephilim were striking, but there was something truly exceptional about Alec, Magnus thought, ever-present scowl and all.

Alec and Isabelle still hadn’t noticed him, too focused on the beaming prisoner in front of them to see him approach. Magnus had a sneaking suspicion that the other warlock knew he was there though, even if he made no move to look away from the shadowhunters.

“I know you know what I’m talking about Liam,” Alec seethed. “The only way you can help yourself now is by talking.”

“I’m very sorry to tell you this, shadowhunter,” the warlock said, glee present in his tone, “but I’m afraid the curse is irreversible.”

Anguish flashed across Alec’s face for a split second before he schooled his features again. Isabelle placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.

Liam looked like he was about to burst out laughing. “I’m sure that’s not what you wanted to hear,” he continued. “I know your little side piece was very important to you.”

His words ignited the rage Alec had been struggling to repress. He jerked toward the warlock, but Isabelle’s hand tightening on his shoulder stopped him. She looked over at him with a warning, and in doing so, she spotted Magnus on the other side of the glass.

Nudging him with her hand, Alec turned and locked eyes with Magnus, a mixture of fury and sorrow swirling in his gaze. Magnus’ breath caught in his throat.

After another beat of silence, Alec broke free of Isabelle’s hold and marched out of the cell, not even sparing Magnus a glance as he passed him on his way out. Magnus shot and alarmed look at Isabelle, who looked helpless, then at the warlock, who looked thrilled. Without thinking about what he was doing, Magnus turned on his heel and followed Alec out of the room.

He found him in his office. Alec’s hands were braced on his mantle, head hanging between his shoulders as he stared at the crackling fire below. Magnus could see him shaking.

He didn’t know what he was doing there. He didn’t know why he felt more compelled to be there rather than back in the holding cell with the warlock. But something stubborn inside of him would not let him leave until he did something to comfort this man.

“He’s lying, you know,” he said. His words startled Alec, who looked over at him in shock.

“What?”

“The warlock, Liam? He lied to you,” Magnus repeated. “There are very few curses in this world that are truly irreversible, and each one requires an enormous amount of energy. I find it hard to believe that an inexperienced warlock, even one that is working with a Greater demon, is powerful enough to pull one off.”

Magnus noted with relief that some of the tension drained out of Alec’s shoulders as he spoke.

Thinking back to what he’d heard earlier, Magnus thought that maybe he understood why all of this was so important to Alec. Someone Alec cared about had been affected by these warlocks. Ignoring the twinge of annoyance he felt at yet again being left out of the loop, he allowed himself to feel sympathetic for the man, and grateful that no one he was close to had been hurt yet.

“The key to treating it lies in what type of magic was used and how severely it impacted the victim,” Magnus continued when Alec remained silent. “If the warlock refuses to reverse the spell themselves, the easy solution is usually destroying the source of the magic, which in this case would either be the warlock or the Greater demon. In a few rare instances, I’ve also found that the victim can sometimes break free of the curse on their own, provided they have enough strength to combat it.”

Alec was silent for a long moment after he finished. Finally breaking his stare from Magnus, he swallowed and turned back to the fire, blinking rapidly. “That is,” he cleared his throat, “very helpful. Thank you.”

Magnus couldn’t help but quirk his lips. “Yes, well,” he said in a dry tone, “I find I can be very helpful — when properly utilized,” he finished, feeling a vindictive pleasure shoot through him when he saw Alec wince. “Why are you so determined to exclude me Alec?”

Alec blanched, struck dumb for a second before he replied, “That’s not what I’m trying to do.”

“Forgive me, but that’s a little hard for me to believe when I had to find out about our first real progress in this case through a lucky phone call,” Magnus said. “In case you’ve forgotten, I’m the High Warlock of Brooklyn, and these are warlocks we’re hunting. They’re my primary responsibility, not yours, and you need my help if you want to stand any chance at stopping them.”

“You’re right,” Alec said without missing a beat. Some of the fire from before was back in his eyes. “We do need you. But you have to understand that my decisions were made with your best interests in mind.” Magnus scoffed at that, but Alec pushed forward before he could argue. “I know you have a hard time trusting shadowhunters, but if you can trust anything, trust that the last thing I want is for you to get hurt.”

Magnus’ first instinct would usually be to be suspicious of his words, but the earnestness of Alec’s gaze held him frozen. They stared at each other, and Magnus failed to find a trace of dishonesty in Alec’s eyes.

After a few seconds that felt like an eternity, Magnus forced himself to look away from Alec, face scrunching up as he felt the beginnings of his earlier migraine make a triumphant return.

“So,” he said, changing the subject. “What’s going to happen to our friend Liam after we’re through interrogating him?”

When he looked back at Alec, the man’s vulnerable expression was long gone, replaced by the familiar stoic demeanor fitting for the head of the Institute. “The Clave has ordered him to be transported to the Guard,” he said.

Magnus nodded at the ground, expecting as much. “Okay.”

“But I told them that since you’re the High Warlock of Brooklyn, the decision on what to do with the fugitive falls under your jurisdiction,” Alec continued, his expression unchanged even as Magnus gaped at him. “We’ll await your direction.”

“Seriously?” Magnus asked.

“Deadly.”

Magnus huffed out a laugh at Alec’s response, shaking his head. This shadowhunter seemed intent on surprising him at every turn. “Well, in that case,” he said. “I think I’ll wait to talk to him myself before I decide what to do.”

Alec gestured back in the direction of the cells. “Be my guest.”

Back in the holding cell, Isabelle was still interrogating Liam, managing to hold her composure much better than her brother. She stopped talking when he entered the cell.

“Would you mind allowing me to chat with him for a minute?” Magnus asked.

Isabelle hesitated, looking like she wanted to say something. But then, without a word, she left the cell and made her way upstairs.

Magnus raised his eyebrows at her departure. When he asked to speak with the warlock, he didn’t expect to be left alone with him. Frankly, he was surprised these shadowhunters were comfortable enough to leave a downworlder unsupervised with their fugitive, but then again, he supposed that’s what their security cameras were there for.

“Well, well, well,” the other warlock said, his chains doing nothing to dampen his bright grin. “The great Magnus Bane. We meet again.”

Magnus narrowed his eyes at him. There was something naggingly familiar about the man, but he couldn’t quite place what it was. His cheerful disposition was unsettling, especially with such malice in his eyes, clouded over by what appeared to be black smoke — a clear sign of demonic influence.

Magnus held up a hand when Liam opened his mouth to speak again, magic crackling in his palm. “Yeah, I think you’ve done enough talking already,” he said, and his hand surged forward, pushing his magic into the warlock’s mind. If Liam wasn’t going to tell them what they needed, Magnus had no qualms finding it himself through his memories.

Except, as Magnus searched through Liam’s mind, the man’s memories didn’t appear as they normally would. Instead of cohesive visions, Magnus was just getting brief glimpses of muddled images or a few seconds of warbled noises clumped together so they were barely distinguishable, as though a competing force was running interference.

In a quick series, Magnus saw a fire ravaging an empty room, a werewolf whining in pain, water rushing up against a rocky shore, a child screaming, a flash of light colliding against a forcefield, maniacal laughter. Blood. So much blood.

Magnus jerked back into the present with a gasp. Nearly doubling over, his hands grasped his knees to brace himself. In front of him, Liam was smirking, but Magnus couldn’t focus on him, too distracted by the ache in his head that had suddenly increased tenfold.

He really needed to see Catarina about this.

Magnus was frustrated that he wasn't powerful enough to be more helpful, with the demon obstructing any important information from Liam’s memories. But even though Magnus couldn’t zero in on an exact location of the warlocks’ hideout, the images he did see were enough to determine a general region they could steadily narrow down.

Unfortunately, that region wasn’t exactly small, and they couldn’t scour the area quick enough to prevent the next attack. This time, the warlocks targeted a shadowhunter, and Magnus was notified through a text from Catarina. The victim was found alive, albeit just barely. Catarina told him she’d been called to the Institute to try to heal him, and Alec had asked that Magnus examine the scene for evidence.

Magnus went without argument, just glad people were finally willing to work with him now. His work at the scene went quickly, despite the handful of shadowhunters also investigating the area. Since the victim was no longer there, Magnus couldn’t gather much, but he found enough information that the Institute should still know about it.

So, for the third time in as many weeks, Magnus found himself back at the New York Institute. He meant to make his stop at Alec’s office a quick one so he could head to the infirmary to see Catarina, but Magnus’ steps slowed as he neared the room when he heard the unmistakable sound of a child’s giggle filtering through the open doorway. He stilled completely when Alec’s voice followed it, a warmth in his tone Magnus hadn’t heard before.

Peeking his head through the doorway, Magnus’ jaw dropped when he saw Catarina’s daughter Madzie sitting on Alec Lightwood’s lap at his desk. The two were sporting big grins while Alec read her a story, Madzie eating up his every word.

Magnus blinked rapidly to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating. He suddenly found it hard to draw a breath, observing the unbridled joy on Madzie’s face. In all the time he had known the child, Madzie was always incredibly shy, though still sweet as anything. It took Magnus longer than he cared to admit to get Madzie to open up to him, and he was having a hard time processing that a shadowhunter could get the girl out of her shell with such ease like Alec was exhibiting.

If someone told Magnus a month ago that he would soon stumble upon this scene — the head of the New York Institute entertaining a warlock child with such gentleness — he would be concerned for their mental state. But there it was, and Magnus unwittingly felt a burst of fondness bloom in his stomach observing the pair. He allowed a smile to break free on his face, leaning against the doorframe.

Madzie was the first to notice him once her laughter subsided. “Magnus,” she exclaimed, hopping off Alec’s lap to run at his legs.

“Hello, sweet pea,” Magnus said, kneeling down to hug the girl when she reached him. He met Alec’s eyes over her shoulder, suppressing a smirk at the man’s mortified expression. “What trouble are you getting up to over here?”

“Mommy is working, so she let me stay with Uncle Alec until she’s done,” she said, smiling even as Magnus’ eyes widened at the moniker she used.

Magnus looked over at Alec, who was hurrying toward them with a vibrant blush staining his cheeks. “Speaking of which, I expect Catarina has finished by now. Do you want to go see your mommy with Magnus?” Alec asked Madzie. He glanced over at him. “Assuming you were planning to visit her while you were here?”

Magnus nodded as he reached to pick Madzie up and settle her on his hip. “I was just about to go over there after meeting with you,” he said. He pulled a quick face at Madzie and grinned as she giggled. “I have to say, I never expected you to be so good with kids.”

Alec shrugged, looking at the floor. “Comes with being an older sibling, I guess,” he murmured.

“Still, I’m impressed,” Magnus said, all while Madzie watched them with a curious expression. “Who would’ve thought the head of the Institute was such a softie?”

The blush returned to Alec’s face, much to Magnus’ delight. “I think you’d be surprised.”

“I already am,” Magnus said, humming his amusement. A second later, he snapped his fingers. “Oh! Before I forget,” he said, waving his free hand to make a packet of papers appear in his grip, which he held out to Alec, “a full report on our findings from tonight.”

Alec took the packet with a grateful smile. “Thank you,” he said.

Magnus turned his attention back to Madzie. “Are you ready to go see mommy?” He asked, grinning when the warlock nodded eagerly. “Alright, say bye-bye to Alexander then, darling.”

He was too focused on the little girl in his arms to catch the way Alec’s face had gone white, brightness flaring in his eyes as he watched them walk away.

The next few days found Magnus back at his loft, where he spent far too much time pacing back and forth instead of actually being productive.

Their investigation had reached a standstill. The shadowhunters swept every building within the region Magnus mapped, but came up empty. Liam still refused to talk, and the shadowhunter that had been attacked eventually succumbed to his injuries after Catarina and a team of healers fought to keep him alive for two days straight. There wasn’t much he could really do, but Magnus was not content to just wait around until the next person was killed.

Desperate to make himself useful, Magnus extended his research into his apothecary. He had already pored over all of the books in his collection that had anything to do with demonic or compulsive magic. But his loft hid hundreds of little treasures. Magnus knew there had to be something they could use. He just had to find it.

He rummaged around his desk, scanning the yellowed papers piled high in the corner before rifling through his drawers. An assortment of trinkets were scattered in disarray inside one of them. He really needed to do some organizing.

A pop of red caught his eye, and he pulled out a small Japanese amulet. Magnus was centuries old, but he prided himself on being able to place where he had acquired most of his relics. For this one however, try as he might, he couldn’t remember where he had gotten it from.

Magnus gasped, letting the amulet slip through his fingers when a spike of burning pain traveled up his nape.

That was another thing that was bothering him. He’d talked to Catarina about his reoccurring head pain, but his friend couldn’t offer him anything to alleviate his discomfort. It wasn’t the first time Catarina hadn’t been able to help him with one of his maladies, but it was the first time she had been so vague about her prognosis. Her flighty responses to his questions made anxiety curl in his gut, and he tried to quell his suspicion that she actually knew what was wrong with him, but just refused to help.

That was absurd, of course. Catarina was one of his oldest friends. She would never do something like that.

Magnus was startled out of his thoughts by a knock on his door. He rubbed at his neck as he made his way to answer it, raising his eyebrows when he saw Luke on the other side holding a large cardboard box.

“Lucian,” he said, eyeing the box with concern. “Is everything alright?”

“As much as it can be right now,” Luke said, sliding past him into the apartment. “I figured since I haven’t heard from you in awhile, you haven’t made much progress with the case either, so I was hoping you could help me sort through some of these books I gathered.”

Luke dropped the box on a table, which creaked softly at the weight. Magnus hummed and plucked a volume out of the group.

“You can read me far too well,” he said, flashing Luke a grin as he flipped through the pages. “Should I be concerned?”

“That’s the least of your worries,” Luke said, sitting down and grabbing a book of his own. “We’d better get started.”

This occupied Luke and Magnus’ time for much of the night, the two men occasionally marking down passages they thought might hold some relevance. But after several hours passed with nothing jumping out at them as a clear solution, Magnus could feel the frustration bubbling up inside him again.

A few minutes past midnight, Magnus pulled out a leather bound text, frowning at the runes that lined up the spine. A quick glance inside the box showed several others like it.

“These are Nephilim records,” he said, causing Luke to look up from his book. “Did you hold onto these from your shadowhunter days?”

“No, Clary let me borrow some from the Institute’s archives,” Luke said. “She and the others have spent the last few weeks studying as many as they can, but their collection is massive. The stuff I brought didn’t even make a dent in it.”

“I see,” Magnus said, trying not to let his voice betray the tension he felt. “And they just let you… borrow these? A werewolf — a former Circle member?”

“Magnus,” Luke sighed, but Magnus had had enough.

“Don’t look at me like I’m being unreasonable, Luke,” he said. “Last I’d checked, the downworld had established a tentative truce with the Nephilim, but we were by no means friendly with them. I don’t think it’s strange for me to find it confusing to wake up one morning and find most of my peers working with New York shadowhunters like old comrades.”

“I understand you’re confused,” Luke said, the patience in his voice making Magnus clench his fists. “But you’ve gotta trust me when I say that these shadowhunters are different from the ones you’re used to dealing with.”

“How does that make any sense?” Magnus threw up his arms in frustration. “All shadowhunters are taught from a young age that downworlders are lesser beings, and I’ve known very few in my long life who were open-minded enough to get past that prejudice. I find it hard to believe that an entire Institute could do it overnight.”

“But they have, and I think you can see that already,” Luke said. His eyes shifted back and forth between Magnus and the books, and Magnus got the sense that he was conflicted about what he said next. “Think about what you’ve seen from this Institute so far. They may not be perfect, but they’re trying to be better and respect your opinions, aren’t they?”

Magnus thought back to Alec’s confidence when he allowed him to make the decision on what to do with Liam, blatantly ignoring Clave orders. He thought about his examination with Isabelle in the labs, and how she specifically sought him out for more information when she was stumped. He remembered little Madzie’s face brimming with joy as Alec read her a story a few nights ago, and how Alec looked perfectly natural holding a warlock child.

Luke was watching him, and the thoughtfulness in his expression made Magnus tense up again.

“There’s something you’re not telling me,” Magnus said. His hunch was confirmed when Luke said nothing. “What the hell is going on here?”

It was dead silent in the loft for a long moment. Then, both Luke and Magnus jumped at the sound of Magnus’ phone ringing on the table. Magnus blew out a frustrated breath, then shot a glare at Luke.

“You’re going to talk to me about this later,” he said, pointing at Luke with one hand while picking up his phone with the other. “Hello?”

“Magnus, we need you here,” Isabelle said. Magnus’ heart jumped into his throat at the panic in her voice. “Alec’s been poisoned.”

Magnus and Luke were running through the Institute’s halls a few minutes later. They almost ran into Isabelle when they turned the corner to the infirmary, and Isabelle promptly threw herself into Magnus’ arms when she saw him. Magnus blinked in abject shock, then tentatively wrapped his arms around her to pat her on the back.

“Isabelle,” he said, pulling back to look into her eyes. “What happened?”

“It’s my fault,” she said, and Magnus’ heart broke when her voice cracked. “I was the one who suggested we take a break from the investigation for the night. We just went to the Hunter’s Moon to have a few drinks. Alec was at the bar talking to Maia, and then— then he just collapsed.”

“Isabelle,” Magnus said gently. “This was not your fault. There’s no way you could have known this would happen,” he reassured, smiling as the woman’s expression warmed, even while her lips continued to tremble. “Have you called Catarina yet?”

“Luckily, she was there with us, so we were able to act fast,” Isabelle said, already sounding more put together. “She’s been in there with Jace for about an hour.”

Isabelle gestured to the door leading into the infirmary, and as Magnus glanced over, he realized for the first time just how many people were gathered in the hallway. Naturally, most of them were shadowhunters, and Magnus only recognized a few of them — Clary, and near the door he saw Maryse Lightwood looking distraught on a bench. But he was taken aback by the sight of several downworlders there as well. He saw Maia wringing her hands together at the end of the hall, and a vampire he vaguely remembered rubbing Clary’s shoulder in the corner.

Magnus was about to ask Luke why they were there, but just then the door opened and a blond man Magnus assumed was Jace walked out, looking haggard, but content. He scanned the hall before his eyes caught on Isabelle, and he took a few steps toward her.

“He’s going to be okay,” he said. There was a collective sigh of relief across the hall. “The poison was fast-acting, but Catarina was able to neutralize it before it did any serious damage. He’s asleep now, and he’ll be sore for a few days, but he’ll recover.” Jace’s eyes moved to Magnus next, and after a somber moment of consideration, he nodded toward the infirmary. “Go ahead, Magnus.”

Magnus shot an alarmed look at Isabelle and Maryse. Surely Alec’s family would want to see him first? But neither Isabelle nor Maryse looked outraged by Jace’s words. Instead, they just gave him solemn nods, indicating their approval, so Magnus hesitantly made his way into the room.

Inside, Catarina and Alec were the only people occupying the space. His friend was hovering over the shadowhunter, who was lying still in the cot, unusually pale. The sight made something stir uncomfortably in Magnus’ chest.

Catarina spotted him when he was a few feet away. “I’m just making sure there are no lingering traces of the poison left in his bloodstream,” she explained. With one hand, she gestured at Alec’s neck. “I noticed some burns lining his esophagus earlier. Would you mind treating that while I finish this?”

Magnus nodded. This must have been why Jace wanted him to go in first. Two warlocks were better than one, after all.

He tried not to think too much about the concerned looks Catarina kept shooting him while he worked.

Just as he was finishing up, Magnus saw Alec’s eyes flutter. His eyebrows scrunched together, and he shifted around in his bed in apparent discomfort.

Magnus leaned forward and murmured, “Alexander, can you hear me?”

Alec mumbled something unintelligible. Next to him, Catarina had stepped up near his head, and Magnus saw gentle wisps of blue smoke fall from her palm and dissolve into his forehead. A moment later, Alec’s eyes blinked open slowly, more clear-headed, albeit still exhausted.

Alec’s eyes landed on Catarina first, then shifted over to Magnus, and Magnus’ breath caught in his throat at the tender smile that grew on his lips.

“Hey,” he rasped, reaching out to grasp Magnus’ hand. Magnus stared wide-eyed at their fingers tangled together on the bedding, mouth opening and closing like a fish.

Reasoning that the shadowhunter was still a little loopy, Magnus pulled himself together and returned Alec’s smile. “Hi,” he whispered. “How’re you feeling?”

“Been better,” Alec said. Magnus’ smile turned into a smirk.

“Yeah, well, you gave us quite a scare tonight,” Magnus said. “You’re lucky Catarina was there.”

Alec took the moment to give Catarina a grateful glance. “Thank you,” he said.

Catarina nodded, her lips pulling up at the corners. She reached behind her to grab a small vial lying on the side table. “Take this. It will help you restore your energy faster,” she said. Alec took the bottle and promptly downed its contents, listening as Catarina continued. “It will make you drowsy, but getting some extra rest isn’t going to hurt your healing process.”

“I don’t want to be sleeping while everyone else is working on the investigation,” Alec said. “Is there anything you can do to counter the effects?”

“No one is going to blame you for taking it easy after going through something like this,” Magnus said.

“I’m the head of the Institute, and the city is in crisis,” he responded. “I don’t have the luxury of relaxing right now.”

“You could’ve died tonight, Alec,” Magnus said, surprising himself by the firmness in his tone. “I understand your people need you right now, but you’re of no use to anyone if you push yourself too hard and get yourself hurt again.”

Alec held his gaze for a long moment, long enough that Magnus started to think he wasn’t going to back down. But then he broke his eyes away to stare at the sheet covering his legs. “You’re right,” he mumbled with a nearly invisible smile as his eyelids started to droop again, “as always.”

Magnus didn’t know what to say to that. Eventually, he fell back to his wit, saying, “Well, I’m glad someone finally appreciates that.”

Alec huffed out a breathless laugh, but said nothing in reply. He settled against his pillow, finding a comfortable position, and was clearly struggling to keep his eyes open with every second that passed. It appeared Catarina’s potion was taking effect quickly.

All at once, Magnus remembered the group of people outside who were waiting to see how Alec was doing, including his mother and sister. Magnus straightened to full height. “I’ll go grab Maryse and Isabelle so they can see you before you fall asleep again.”

“No,” Alec murmured, tightening his grip on Magnus’ hand, which made Magnus blink. He’d forgotten they were still holding each other. “Please, don’t go.”

Somewhat uncomfortable, Magnus looked over at Catarina, who did not look surprised in the slightest. Instead, she appeared resigned, and stood up with a sigh, heading toward the door.

“I’ll go get them,” she said. “You should stay with him.”

Magnus thought maybe he should argue with her, but she was already out of the room before he could say anything else. He turned back to Alec to see that the man’s eyes were closed. Magnus thought he had already fallen asleep for a second, but then he felt Alec squeeze his hand gently.

“Stay,” Alec whispered. Magnus’ heart beat faster as he stared at him. Although the situation was definitely bizarre, Magnus had to admit that he felt no desire to leave Alec’s side either. With his own resigned sigh, he conjured a chair and settled into it next to the bed.

“Okay, Alexander,” Magnus said, watching as the shadowhunter fully relaxed. “I’ll stay.”

Despite Alec’s wishes, Magnus did eventually leave the infirmary to continue his research using the Institute’s resources, now that Luke had clued him in to their treasure trove.

Luke was right. The Institute’s collection of records was massive, to say the least. Magnus lost count of the hours he spent flipping through the texts, occasionally accompanied by Clary and her vampire friend, Simon.

But yet again, the information brought him nowhere closer to finding an answer. So, once he got tired of looking through those, he moved on to other material the Institute had available. Magnus scoured maps of New York, paying special attention to the region he’d identified, but also looking into other areas of the city. Maybe he had missed something. These warlocks had to be somewhere.

After his eyes started to burn from staring at the Institute’s glowing blue screens for hours on end, he would migrate over to the laboratory, where Isabelle and a few other shadowhunters were analyzing various tissue and fluids found at some of the crime scenes. They always appreciated his input, but unfortunately, Magnus couldn’t offer them much more information than they already knew.

Before Magnus knew it, several days had passed, the only reason he was aware of such was by his routine checks of his phone. Magnus got very little sleep during this time, only falling into short dozes in the library or kitchen before some random noise jolted him awake. Clary tried once to get him to go to sleep about 36 hours into his inadvertent stay, even offering her own bed for him to use, but the cold glare he sent her stopped her halfway through her pitch.

His headaches had returned with a vengeance as well, much to his chagrin. Magnus wasn’t sure if they were correlated to his presence in the Institute, his lack of sleep, or the amount of time he spent staring at all the bright screens. Probably a combination of all three. He tried to hide his pained grimaces as much as he could, but Magnus still caught Isabelle and Luke shooting him concerned glances from time to time.

Alec emerged from the infirmary about a day after his attack, looking a little worse for wear, but the determination in his eyes quelled anyone’s attempts to get him to return to bed. Magnus caught his eyes flitting over to him more often than he was comfortable admitting. A few times, Magnus found Alec staring back at him, various expressions on his face ranging from fear, to frustration, to something Magnus couldn’t even begin to decipher.

Magnus wasn’t the only downworlder spending most of his time at the Institute during this period, he noticed. After arriving at the Institute with Magnus, Luke had only left the building once from what Magnus observed. Simon was almost always there with either Isabelle or Clary, and he even caught a glimpse Raphael speaking with Alec late one night, their conversation much more civil than the one he’d last overheard. It was more civil than Magnus had ever seen Raphael act toward any shadowhunter, as a matter of fact.

Every downworlder he saw had a relaxed ease in their shoulders as they worked with the shadowhunters — a complete departure from how the atmosphere had been not so long ago. But now that Magnus took the time to observe them, he found that the shadowhunters’ attitudes had drastically changed as well.

Magnus could not detect any difference in how the shadowhunters looked at downworlders compared to how they looked at their own kind. They treated the downworlders like they were valuable assets to their jobs, which Magnus obviously knew already, but he wasn’t used to Nephilim knowing that. After centuries getting used to the way shadowhunters would look down their noses at him, as though they were degrading themselves just by being in his presence, it was almost unsettling to see such contrasting behavior evolve in such a short period of time.

It wasn’t just Alec who treated the downworlders well, although Magnus had to imagine that him being their leader had some influence on the rest of them. The other shadowhunters seemed to hold themselves to a higher standard when Alec entered the room, but not because they feared his retribution. They respected him, Magnus realized. It didn’t seem like it should be such a strange revelation, but Magnus still found himself surprised when he considered how young Alec was, and his controversial family history.

Magnus was lost in these thoughts when he was abruptly pulled out of them by a tap on his shoulder. He turned to find Maia staring at him expectantly, giving him the impression that she’d been trying to get his attention for awhile.

“Sorry my dear, I was a bit distracted there,” he said, fiddling with an ear cuff. “What can I help you with?”

“One of our pack found this during a patrol earlier,” she said, holding a scrap of leather. “It holds traces of the female warlock’s scent who escaped our ambush last week. We were wondering if you could do some of your tracking mojo on it?”

Magnus nodded. Taking the scrap from her, he closed his eyes and focused his energy into the fabric.

But instead of honing in on a specific location, Magnus saw the same fleeting imagery and obscured noises that he remembered from Liam’s memories. Pounding footsteps on pavement. A flash of purple. Choppy waters. A muffled shout.

Magnus blinked his eyes open with a groan, swaying slightly as a new wave of exhaustion swept through him. He scowled at Maia, who was watching him warily. “The demon is still obstructing my magic like it did with Liam,” he said, moving to hand the leather back to Maia. “You should give this to Alec. His team might be able to do something with it.”

Maia stared at the scrap for a long moment, but made no move to take it. “Actually,” she said with a renewed light in her eyes. “Could you give it to him for me? I have to head back to check on the pack.”

Magnus furrowed his eyebrows. Alec’s office was on the way out of the Institute. He didn’t see how it would be too much effort for Maia to drop it off when she left. But it seemed like Maia took his silence as agreement, because she was already backing away from him, muttering a quick “thanks” over her shoulder as she bolted.

With a shrug, Magnus made his way over to the head’s office, somewhat grateful for the excuse to take a quick break, and maybe to also check on how Alec was doing. Nobody had to know that though.

Alec was at his desk when Magnus arrived, his head leaning against one hand while the other wrote something down on a stack of papers. Magnus could see the dark circles under his eyes from across the room.

“Feeling better?” Magnus asked, prompting Alec to look up from his work. Alec’s gaze warmed when he saw who it was.

“Yes, thanks to you and Catarina,” Alec said.

“I barely did anything. I was mostly Cat,” Magnus waved him off as he stepped into the room. He set the piece of leather on his desk. “Maia dropped this off a few minutes ago. It belongs to one of the warlocks, but there’s some sort of spell keeping me from pinpointing her exact location. I figured your people might find it useful.”

Alec examined the leather for a second, then nodded at Magnus. “Thank you,” he said.

At this point, Magnus could’ve left and gotten back to his work, but something made him linger in the room yet again. He leaned against the desk, glancing at the pile of documents. “What’re you working on?”

“Oh, just the bread and butter of my job lately — lots and lots of paperwork,” Alec said lightly, and Magnus grinned. But then, as he looked further at the top sheet on the stack, his eyes narrowed.

“You’re assigning some of your shadowhunters to guard the Jade Wolf?” Magnus said, already feeling his hackles start to raise. “Why is that necessary?”

Alec leaned back in his chair, pressing his lips together. “These warlocks have attacked just as many werewolves as they have warlocks. You and the other warlocks in the city can ward your homes to protect yourselves, but Luke’s pack doesn’t have the same security. I talked to him and Maia, and they agreed they could use the extra protection around their headquarters.”

Alec’s face was closed off when he finished, and Magnus got the sense that he was a little offended by Magnus’ suspicion and was trying not to show it. He felt shame build inside him.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I shouldn’t have expected the worst from you.”

Alec locked eyes with him, then stood up to round his desk where Magnus was standing, leaning back against the edge. “It’s okay,” he said. “I know it’s difficult for you to trust us after all the terrible experiences you’ve had.”

“Still,” Magnus said. “You and your Institute have been nothing but exceptionally gracious toward every downworlder I’ve seen you work with over the past several weeks. I should know better than to doubt your intentions by this point.”

“Trust takes time to build,” Alec said, layers in his gaze Magnus couldn’t unravel. “You have to earn it.”

Magnus tilted his head, a combination of surprised and intrigued. “You know, you’re a very wise man — for your age,” he added.

Alec huffed. “So I’ve been told,” he said, leaning forward to rub at his face. Stepping closer, Magnus could see he was still a little pale, and caught a barely imperceptible twitch in his arms that gave away the depth of his exhaustion.

“Have you gotten any sleep since getting out of the infirmary?” Magnus asked, and Alec sighed.

“I could ask you the same thing,” Alec said with knowing eyes. Magnus huffed a soft laugh.

“Point taken,” he acquiesced. “But I’m not the one who almost died a few days ago.”

“I’m fine,” he deflected.

“No, you’re not,” Magnus said with finality. Alec tensed. “But, I suppose none of us are, under these circumstances,” he continued, shooting Alec a sympathetic look. “That doesn’t mean you’re not allowed to lean on others for the support you need to get through it.”

Alec was quiet for a long moment after Magnus spoke. This close, he could see the small scar slicing through one of his furrowed brows. He could see Alec’s eyes shining, exposing his vulnerability, even as the rest of his face hardened in defense.

“Why do you care so much?” Alec finally asked, a fierce curiosity to his question.

Magnus shook his head. “I’m not sure,” he said honestly. “I guess, you’re just so different from other Nephilim I’ve known — I don’t want something to happen to you because you put everyone else’s well-being before your own.” As Magnus spoke, he was struck by the truth of his own words, even if he hadn’t realized it before. “It’s rare to find a shadowhunter with such an open heart.”

Alec gasped, so soft Magnus barely heard it a few inches away. He didn’t know how they’d gotten so close, but Magnus was nearly standing between Alec’s legs, and nothing in him wanted to pull back. Alec’s eyes were wide, flitting down to Magnus’ lips every few seconds, like he couldn’t help himself.

The pounding in his head was making his temple throb, but Magnus didn’t care. Urged forward by some unknown force, Magnus cupped Alec’s face in his palm and leaned forward to close the gap between their lips.

Alec inhaled sharply. For a split second, he stood frozen, and then his arms wrapped around Magnus’ waist to pull him closer. Alec held him tightly, a desperation in his grip that made Magnus’ knees weak. He tilted his head to deepen the kiss, letting out a happy sigh as he did so.

In a thousand years, Magnus never thought he would ever engage in any act of intimacy with a shadowhunter. If he did, Magnus had always imagined it would be because he was craving the adrenaline rush you only ever felt when you did something you knew you weren’t supposed to do. It would be the danger-seeking side of him that would be in control of his actions in the heat of the moment, reveling in the thrill and lust that would inevitably course through him.

But kissing Alec felt like the furthest thing from dangerous. Magnus’ hand slid up Alec’s back like he’d done it a hundred times before, and the sliver of him that could still form coherent thoughts marveled at how natural it all felt. Even knowing he was in the middle of a shadowhunter Institute, he melted against Alec’s body. There were few moments in his life where he’d felt more comfortable than he did right here.

Alec didn’t feel like danger. He felt like coming home.

Magnus pulled away slowly, keeping his eyes closed as he relished in the feeling of Alec’s nose brushing against his own. When he opened his eyes, he found Alec already staring at him, eyes widening when they locked gazes.

“Magnus,” Alec whispered, awed. One of his hands reached up to cradle his jaw, and his finger traced the delicate skin under Magnus’ eye.

The movement made Magnus aware of the fact that at some point during the kiss, he’d let his glamour fall, leaving his cat eyes exposed to Alec now. Magnus expected a surge of panic to flood him at the realization, but it never came. He knew that had to do with Alec’s reaction. Here he was, allowing a shadowhunter to see his demon mark, but Alec didn’t look disgusted or scared. On the contrary, he was looking at Magnus like he’d just given him the greatest gift of his life.

A faint voice was echoing something in the back of his head, and after a second, Magnus recognized the voice as Alec’s. 

“They’re beautiful. You’re beautiful.”

All of a sudden, Magnus was pulled from the moment by a searing pain erupting in his head. Magnus yelled out in agony, and was saved from collapsing to the ground by Alec’s arms embracing him again, lowering him gently to the floor. He could vaguely hear Alec calling out his name in alarm, then shouting for help, but he was too engulfed by the burning pressure  ravaging his body.

Near delirious, Magnus squinted his eyes open and met Alec’s horrified ones. He saw Alec’s mouth moving, but could no longer register what he was saying. Magnus tried to open his mouth, still feeling an unexplained impulse to comfort the man somehow. But before he could, his vision flashed bright white, then entirely black.

Magnus woke up back at his loft with Catarina watching him by his bed. He winced. The pain from before was gone, but phantom traces of it lingered. Catarina conjured a glass of water for him, and Magnus sat up in his bed, sipping it gingerly.

“Going to tell me you don’t know what’s wrong with me again?” Magnus asked, letting his bitterness seep into his tone.

Catarina sighed. “I wish I could Magnus, really,” she said. “But I can’t right now.”

“Explain to me how that makes sense,” Magnus demanded, beyond frustrated by this point. “I’m not stupid, Catarina. I know something’s happened to me. Is it a spell? Am I hallucinating? Tell me I’m not going crazy here.”

“You’re not going crazy,” Catarina said. “The problem is that even we don’t know exactly what happened to you, so trying to fix it is challenging.”

“Why can’t you just tell me what you do know?” Magnus asked. “I’m the one affected by it, not to mention I have hundreds of years of knowledge under my belt. I should be able to help.”

But Catarina was shaking her head. “We can’t. I’m sorry Magnus. It’s for your own good.”

Magnus wanted to scream. “How is keeping me in the dark ‘for my own good?’”

“Because every time you get close to figuring it out, you get hurt,” Catarina answered. She shut her eyes, immediately looking regretful of her words.

Magnus leaned back against his bed frame, thinking back on all the times his headaches started. They typically became noticeable when he was in the Institute, he realized. Magnus’ eyes widened when it dawned on him.

“This is about Alec, isn’t it?” he asked. The conflicted look Catarina sent him told him everything he needed to know. “It is. He’s a part of this somehow.”

His pain was often the most intense in Alec’s direct presence. Magnus didn’t know what that meant, but he knew it was important.

Thinking hard, Magnus could vaguely remember a man with dark hair and pale skin in his loft the day after he was attacked all those weeks ago. His memories of that day were fuzzy — it took him several days to fully recover — but he could recall the man staring at him, devastation and fury written in his eyes. Alec’s eyes.

Magnus flinched when his head gave a nasty throb, bringing him back to the present.

“This is what I’m talking about,” Catarina said, gesturing at his face. “It’s not safe for you to be involved in this when we don’t even know what we’re dealing with.” She leaned toward him, grasping his hand. “I know it’s tough for you to stay on the sidelines, but it’s what’s best for you right now. Once we handle the warlocks, we should be able to figure this out, but until then, please, please be careful.”

Magnus nodded, somewhat abashed. She was right, of course. Stopping a group of murderers was a much more important problem than his chronic headaches.

Catarina smiled, brushing his cheek with her palm. “I’ve left some sleeping draught on your side table. Try to get some rest,” she said, eyeing him with a shrewd look as she packed up her things. “Real rest this time, please.”

Magnus rolled his eyes, but caved with a dutiful nod. Catarina chuckled, patting his shoulder on her way out the door, but she paused halfway there. She glanced back at him, taking in his state with consideration.

“It’s going to be okay, Magnus,” she said, finally. “I promise.”

Catarina didn’t wait for his response before she left the room, leaving Magnus staring after her. Magnus sighed, and then looked up at the ceiling, feeling completely helpless. He really wished he believed her.

Days went by with Magnus building his strength back inside his loft, per Catarina’s wishes. He kept himself busy by doing more research with the books Luke had left with him, trying to stay focused on the ongoing investigation rather than his own troubles.

He spent far too much time glancing at his phone than he cared to admit, but neither Alec nor anyone else from the Institute ever reached out to him. Catarina called a couple times to check up on him, and Raphael also called once, but for the most part, he was left to his own devices. It wasn’t long before he started going a bit stir crazy.

On the third day, he finally broke. He was back operating at full capacity again, and he just couldn’t continue to sit idly back. Catarina would forgive him.

Magnus created a portal, and stepped into it to emerge inside Alec’s office. Alec was there, staring at him with wide eyes where he was frozen with a quiver halfway onto his shoulder.

“Magnus,” he said, a hint of panic in his tone. “You shouldn’t be here.”

Magnus ignored him and the painful twinge underneath his eye, instead observing Alec’s quiver and the bow laying on his desk. Distantly, he could hear other shadowhunters barking orders and running through the Institute’s hallways. He raised an unimpressed eyebrow. “Going somewhere?”

Alec didn’t answer right away, eyes shifting back and forth as he tried to figure a way out of his situation. But Magnus had him cornered in his own office, and he sighed, rubbing a hand down the back of his neck.

“Luke’s pack found the warlocks,” he said. “They’re hiding out in an old storage facility on a pier along 58th street.”

Magnus refrained from rolling his eyes. It was always some damn abandoned building.

“Aha. And you and your shadowhunters are going out there now to confront them, aren’t you?” Magnus asked, taking Alec’s silence as answer enough. “So again, you’ve fallen back to your habit of excluding me from any important developments,” he said. He knew he wasn’t being fair, but he was too frustrated to care. “I shouldn’t be surprised.”

Alec scowled. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Oh, nothing. I just find it funny how my head sometimes feels like it’s going to explode when I’m in your Institute, and you’ve never once thought to mention that you might be the cause of that.”

Alec gaped, looking disturbed by his words. “Magnus— what, I… I-I don’t know—”

“Don’t play dumb with me Alexander,” Magnus said. “I’m not as oblivious as you all seem to think I am. I know you know about what’s wrong with me. I know you’re connected to it… and I’ve seen the way you’ve been looking at me these past few weeks, even before I kissed you three days ago.”

He took a slow step toward the shadowhunter, whose palpable dread was growing with every word Magnus spoke. “It doesn’t take a genius to put two and two together. We are something to each other,” he declared.

Alec looked like he wanted to run away again. “Magnus, now isn’t the right time to do this.”

“No time is the right time to do this,” Magnus countered. “What are you so afraid of me knowing? Are you scared of what my reaction will be when I find out?” He thought back to all their past encounters, scoffing when he remembered something. “What, am I that ‘side piece’ Liam was talking ab—”

“Don’t,” Alec ground out, stopping Magnus in his tracks. Every line in his body was tense, his grip on his quiver so tight his knuckles were turning white. He wouldn’t meet Magnus’ gaze, his eyes boring holes into the floor as he shook his head. “Don’t,” he whispered again.

The fire in Magnus’ stomach dampened considerably at Alec’s reaction. It was dead silent in the office, and Magnus calmed enough to notice that the urgent voices he’d initially heard in the hallways had long since died off.

“You’re right,” Magnus said suddenly, making Alec finally look up at him. “Now isn’t the right time to talk about this. We have some warlocks to catch.”

Alec exhaled with a quiet groan, rubbing a hand down his face. “Magnus, I really don’t think it’s a good idea for you to come.”

“Oh, tell that to someone who cares, Alexander,” Magnus huffed. Surprisingly, his reply didn’t earn him another scowl. Instead, he saw Alec’s lip twitch in reluctant amusement as he grabbed his bow and swung it over his back. Magnus smirked his approval, swirling his hands together to create a portal. “58th street, right? My mode of transportation is faster.”

Alec rolled his eyes, but still looked charmed against his better judgment. Together, they stepped through the portal, and were instantly surrounded by complete mayhem.

The pier was a tornado of shadowhunters, warlocks and werewolves fighting with and against each other in a myriad of growls, deadly spells and swinging swords. Several bodies were already littered across the docks. Magnus didn’t look closely at any of them.

Magnus remembered Alec saying that they’d identified at least six warlocks who’d been possessed, but scanning the crowd, he could already see eight with the same clouded eyes he remembered from his interrogation with Liam. Before Magnus knew it, Alec was firing off arrows at some of them, disabling a few locked in battle nearby.

In the center of the madness, a foreboding black mist was spitting out powerful plumes of dark fire against anyone who got near it. It seemed the demon was just as fond of clichés as its warlock minions.

Alec saw the demon at the same time he did, and was aiming his arrow at the fog, craning his neck to see where he could get a clear shot at it. But they were too far away, with too many bodies blocking his arrow’s path. Magnus looked over at Alec and found him already staring back at him. Understanding passed between them. They needed to get somewhere Alec could shoot.

From there, Magnus and Alec lunged into the fray, both keeping their eyes peeled for an area where Alec could get a straight shot. Magic surged from Magnus’ palms toward some of the offending warlocks, blocking their curses to give the others enough time to cuff their hands. Through it all, Magnus remained aware of Alec’s presence behind him, covering his back as Alec watched his.

Which is why Magnus knew Alec was in jeopardy when he heard a sharp yell directly behind him. Without thinking, Magnus swung around to see that one of the warlocks had fired a spell to trip Alec up, sending him careening onto the ground.

For a brief instant, Magnus was back in the Institute’s ops center, watching Alec writhe on the floor while clutching his side. Then, he was on the pier again, sending a blast of magic against the other warlock to knock her unconscious before she could do any further damage. Choosing to ignore his bizarre vision, he held out his hand to help Alec up, quickly scanning him for any injuries.

“Watch out!” Alec shouted suddenly, launching an arrow over Magnus’ shoulder. Spinning around, Magnus saw one warlock fall to the ground, Alec’s arrow embedded in his thigh, while several more started to converge on them. Working fast, Magnus summoned a shield.

He grit his teeth as three warlocks blasted spells at his barrier at once. Almost immediately, he could feel sweat bead at his temples. It was taking all of his energy to keep the shield up under their onslaught.

Meanwhile, Alec was eyeing the mist, which they were much closer to than before. “I’m only a few feet away from a spot where I think I could shoot this thing. Can you get us there?”

“I can’t hold this shield much longer with them blitzing me like this,” Magnus answered through clenched teeth. It could be mere moments before he was too exhausted to keep it up, and then they’d both be sitting ducks.

Before that could happen, however, Alec was holding his hand out to Magnus. “Here,” he said. “Take my strength.”

Magnus blinked at him in astonishment. “What?”

“Take what you need,” Alec said, borderline insistent. Magnus didn’t debate further, gripping his hand and feeling Alec’s energy course through him, revitalizing his power.

With his newfound stamina, Magnus was able to focus on shifting his shield gradually over to the space Alec pointed out. Alec’s palm in his own was a source of stability for him against the warlocks’ assault, but Magnus gasped as their connection prompted a new barrage of images of their hands held together in other scenes — cradling each other’s in the Institute, clamped tightly outside a pentagram, intertwined against gold sheets.

Magnus blinked away the visions, trying to ignore the distraction to maintain his forcefield. But unlike the previous incidents, these images kept coming — their hands pressed together on his balcony, in an alleyway, in his apothecary. That, paired with the familiar pressure in his skull crushing down on him with reinvigorated force, made Magnus’ steps falter, his shield nearly collapsing on itself.

Magnus heard Alec calling out his name, and felt his own panic swell. He wanted to tell the shadowhunter to make a run for it, to get out of the warlocks’ line of fire while he still could, but his vision was blurring and everything was getting bright again. He felt Alec’s hand slip away, and just before everything went quiet, he heard a faint voice, his own, echo in his head.

“You’ve unlocked something in me.”

It took Magnus longer to come to full awareness this time. His eyes opened sluggishly, and his surroundings looked fuzzy at first until he blinked a couple times to clear his head. He was in the Institute’s infirmary, and a very familiar woman was seated next to his bed, watching him with trepidation.

“Izzy,” he breathed. Her face crumpled slightly at his use of her nickname.

The memories didn’t come back to Magnus in one big rush. They were just there where they weren’t before. He was Magnus Bane, the High Warlock of Brooklyn, and he frequently worked with the shadowhunters at the New York Institute to solve various problems that arose among the shadow world. He loved many of them dearly. He was fiercely protective over Clarissa Fairchild, whom he’d known from when she was a little girl. He was close friends with Isabelle Lightwood and her brother, Jace Herondale — two of the greatest fighters of their generation.

He was in love with Alec Lightwood, head of the New York Institute.

“Ho-how are you feeling?” Izzy asked, breaking him out of his reverie. Her question was tentative, like she wasn’t sure what answer she should expect.

“I remember,” he said. “I remember everything.” Izzy’s eyes closed in relief as she relaxed against her chair. He sat up in his bed. “Izzy, what the hell happened?”

“Back when you went searching for the warlocks by yourself, Liam attacked you, just a couple blocks from the pier, actually,” she said. “He caught you off guard, but you threw up a shield in time to protect yourself. A part of his spell got through though. We don’t exactly know how that works — we figure it had something to do with that type of magical mutation I'd mentioned — it probably could have been a lot worse.” Izzy swallowed heavily, glaring at the floor before continuing. “But, the biggest side effect was that the spell blocked your recent memories of any interactions with angelic energy.”

Meaning shadowhunters. Meaning Alec.

Magnus shut his eyes as he thought back to the way he’d treated the shadowhunters, his friends, over the last month. It had taken him so long to let down his walls enough to trust anyone again, but Magnus knew he was a better person for it. It hurt to know that something as simple as a warped spell by a rogue warlock was enough to set him back so far, returning him to the unhappy place he’d been in before he met them. It was especially upsetting to remember the pain in Alec’s eyes as Magnus regarded him and the other shadowhunters with such distrust.

Thinking about Alec reminded him of when he last saw him — the fight, wherein Magnus had collapsed and dropped his shield while several deranged warlocks accosted them.

“Alec, where is he? Is he okay?” Magnus asked.

“He’s fine,” Izzy reassured him, and he relaxed slightly. “We banished the demon, and as soon as we did, all the other warlocks were freed from their compulsion and surrendered easily,” she said, taking a glance at the clock next to his bed. “Alec actually stayed with you for most of the first day you were in here, but you’ve been out for more than 48 hours, and as the head of the Institute, he’s kind of drowning in paperwork right now—”

“I need to see him,” Magnus interrupted, making to pull the covers off himself. “I need to— Izzy, the way I treated him—”

“Whoa,” Izzy said, gently gripping his shoulders to keep him from jumping out of his bed. “Magnus, you just woke up. You’re still very drained. You’re going to need some time to build your strength,” she said, holding up a hand to halt any further protests. “I’ll go grab him. He’ll want to see you — he told me to get him as soon as you were awake. You just wait here.”

Magnus wanted to argue, wanted to sprint straight to Alec’s office himself. But he was sure Izzy could easily overpower him right now. So, with reluctance, he leaned back against the wall and nodded. Satisfied, Izzy stood and started making her way out of the infirmary. Halfway there, she spun on her heel to face him again.

“It’s good to have you back Magnus,” she said. The hoarseness in her voice reminded him that Alec wasn’t the only Lightwood who must’ve missed him while he was afflicted. His smile came naturally.

“Good to be back.”

With Izzy gone, Magus was left alone to wallow in the guilt he felt over how he’d acted in the past month. God, he was such an asshole. He’d been so callous toward all of them, but particularly toward Alec, given his position of power. Magnus swallowed the lump in his throat as he recalled the way Alec reacted to Liam’s lie that his curse was irreversible — that Magnus was doomed to never remember all the amazing memories they’d shared together. He didn’t think he would ever be able to forget the anguish etched in Alec’s eyes.

He didn’t know how Alec had been able to keep his professional facade in place as well as he did. Magnus was certain he would never have been able to keep his composure if the tables were turned, and he was the one forced to confront the love of his life when he couldn’t remember who he was, fully cognizant of all the progress they’d lost standing right before his eyes. The shame overwhelmed him as he remembered some of the harsh words he shot at Alec in his darkest moments, insinuating that shadowhunters weren’t worthy of his trust, that he would only ever be a nuisance in Magnus’ life. He felt sick to his stomach.

The sound of pounding footsteps growing louder near the infirmary’s door pulled Magnus out of his worries. He only had a second to straighten in his bed before the door banged open, Alec rushing in and locking eyes with him a moment later. He froze in the doorway, his expression cracked open, vulnerable. Magnus was sure his own emotions were laid just as bare on his face.

“Alexander,” Magnus whispered.

Alec heard it from across the room, and his voice set him back in motion. Magnus made to get out of his bed and meet him halfway, but he was barely able to stand up before Alec reached him, nearly bowling him over by the force of his hug.

His arms wrapped tightly around Magnus, almost suffocating in their rigidity, but Magnus didn’t care. He held Alec back just as firmly, feeling himself start to shake as he buried his face in Alec’s neck. Alec felt his knees start to wobble — it seemed Izzy was right about his weakened state — and he moved them to sit against the bed without breaking their embrace.

After a minute, Magnus’ breathing calmed down enough for him to notice that Alec was murmuring something against his shoulder. It only took another second for him to recognize that it was his own name being repeated over and over again. The realization made Magnus moan in remorse.

“Oh, Alexander,” he said, the emotion clogging his throat causing his voice to break. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Alec answered without hesitation. “Wasn’t your fault.”

“But I said such cruel things to you, to all of you,” Magnus said. He meant to continue, but Alec cut him off by pulling back to cup his face and press a firm kiss to his lips. Magnus whimpered into his mouth, one hand flying up to grip Alec’s hair. After everything they’d been through, Magnus never wanted this to end. But Alec eventually pulled away, still holding him close enough to keep their foreheads pressed together while his eyes bored into Magnus’ with a loving intensity.

“Listen to me,” Alec said seriously. “You were under a spell. Your only memories of shadowhunters were from a time when they treated downworlders like second-class citizens. We understand. No one blames you.”

“That doesn’t mean I didn’t hurt you,” he whispered, taking in the redness of Alec’s eyes. He brushed away a stray tear that lingered on the man’s cheek, sure he had several of his own streaking down his face. “You don’t have to pretend with me. I was there. I don’t know how you held it together as well as you did, frankly. God knows I would have gone insane if I was put in the same situation.”

Alec nodded, swallowing harshly as he looked down. “It definitely wasn’t easy,” he admitted eventually, and Magnus’ breath hitched. “I felt so helpless. You couldn’t remember who I was, or what we had, and I couldn’t just tell you about it because I didn’t want to hurt you.”

Magnus felt the guilt growing in him again, but then Alec grasped his hand. “But I want you to know,” he continued. “I never doubted that you would remember everything eventually.”

“Really?” Magnus said, feeling warm at the nod and small smile Alec answered with. “Why?”

“Aside from the fact that you’re the great Magnus Bane: High Warlock of Brooklyn?” Alec asked, laughing at Magnus’ deadpan look. His face softened. “You were always stronger than anything those warlocks could’ve thrown at you. You’d already started to remember things before you even realized there was anything wrong with you. On our first mission together after your attack, you asked me where I kept my bow and quiver, even though I hadn’t told you it was my signature weapon yet.”

Magnus chuckled. “I guess even Greater demon magic can’t suppress all my tidbits of Alec Lightwood-based trivia,” he said, stroking Alec’s smile with his thumb. “I wouldn’t have been able to break the spell without you, you know. The only times I ever remembered anything was when I was with you, when you were being excessively patient and kind toward me.” He kissed him quickly, keeping his eyes closed when he pulled away. “Thank you for not giving up on me.”

“Never,” Alec promised, pulling him in again.

Magnus sighed against his lips, reminded of the comfort he’d felt in that moment back in Alec’s office. His loft might be where he slept every night, but this feeling, here in Alec’s arms, this was home to him.

“I love you,” Magnus whispered between them.

Alec held him tighter, letting out a shaky breath at his words. “I love you too.”

Magnus could feel the swell of emotion threatening to claw its way out of him, his heart bursting with love for the man next to him. Alec had always been able to find the right words to soothe him at any given moment, but Magnus was brought back to one phrase that he hadn’t quite believed at the time. Now, sitting there in the Institute’s infirmary, he held full confidence in its indisputable truth. No matter where they were, or what perils they faced, they would always find their way back to each other.