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Magnus has never been afraid of pain, or maybe he has and doesn’t recall. He’s been alive for far too long to be scared of it. He often seeks it out on occasion, relishing in the simplicity of the end of his life being within reach. He is not sure where he will go once he dies. He’s never favored any religion. After so many years, one stops caring for what the afterlife offers you.
He has been skirting on the edge between life and death for eight hours now. He’s too delirious to remember how he got here. All he knows is the ongoing lightning rods of pure agony shooting through his aching body. He’s been strapped to this silver table, only recently given dead man’s blood straight into his veins. He doesn’t know up from down, and he confuses the lightbulb dangling from the ceiling with the light he’s been told to follow.
Someone betrayed him, or at least he’s pretty sure someone did. As leader of the vampires, there is very little chance of being kidnapped. His second in command, Raphael, is usually by his side every minute of the day. They were returning to Magnus’s loft when they were ambushed by twenty or so hunters clambering around them with weapons made of silver and wooden stakes. Magnus is older than most vampires, but even he can only fight off so many enemies at once.
He screams when the silver chains around his throat tighten, effectively pressing his naked back to the table. He doubts he has any skin left there, as his blood creates pools underneath him and drips off the edge. The pain has grown numb by now. He’s too lethargic from the blood to move more than an inch at a time. He doesn’t even have the power to tilt his head to a more comfortable position on the chain necklace.
“Hey, bloodsucker,” a disgruntled voice cuts through the haze. Magnus has a vague idea that he’s climbing down the stairs. A basement. He’s in a basement. “Where’s the cavalry? I want your precious children of the night to murder.”
Magnus chokes out a weak laugh and flinches when he tastes metal. “Maybe they got lost in traffic.” He’s told his children to never put their lives on the line for him. They’re not his children by blood in the traditional sense, but he made half of them the way they are. Raphael was practically his son, and he would do anything for him. It’s why he ordered the younger vampire to run away and to leave him behind.
He expects the punch, but it hurts all the same. He’s drowsy and his right eye is swollen. His hands are pinned with silver stakes right through the bone. He can safely say he doesn’t have long, and he’s starting to look forward to meeting the grim reaper herself.
Magnus is really starting to fade out when he hears an explosion above his head. The building shakes around him, and he hisses when the table jostles under him. He’s immovable with the knives sliced through his palms, and he can smell his skin burning. Honestly, whatever is happening upstairs hopefully reaches him down here.
Screams fill the air, and he can hear guns going off left and right. Metal against metal in what he believes are swords. His eyelids weigh tons, and he’s losing the fight now. There aren’t any familiar voices in the chaos, or perhaps he’s just lost the ability to differentiate.
Then the sweetest aroma tickles his nose, and he greedily inhales as much as he can with his new profound strength. Oh yes. There’s dried blood caked on his lips when he smiles dementing at the ceiling. His body reacts by arching his back and tugging on his injured hands, instinctively craving to rush to the side of the one who smells like pure vanilla and cocoa butter.
The fight upstairs continues, but it’s not as intense as it quiets down. Heavy footsteps hurried down the staircase, and a shocked gasp followed, “Magnus!”
Magnus grumbles a vague response, and his smile is loopy when Alec hovers over him. His bow and quiver are hanging around his shoulders, giving off the effect of angel wings. There’s blood on his cheeks. “Darling.”
Powerful, yet shaky hands work to unclasp the chains securing his neck to the table. Magnus nearly collapses before remembering the sting of the silver. He holds himself up and weakly nods to his arms, “Alec…” He slurs his words. “Be a dear and remove these needles.”
“Oh, angels, Magnus,” Alec hiccups. He’s gentle like a jeweler with his finest gems as he slides the needles out of his veins. It’s a relief to have the constant poison removed, but he’s not going to feel better until at least a day of rest.
He tries to haul himself up but stumbles, and Alec quickly swoops in and wraps his sturdy arms around him. Alec falters when Magnus’s blood sticks to his skin. His face is pinched and lips curled in caged fury, and he guides Magnus gently onto the floor with his back against the legs of the table.
Magnus tenses when Alec crawls closer on his knees. His thick thighs cage the vampire’s hips, and his arms secure themselves around Magnus’s upper back, careful not to touch the wounds there. Alec shushes him when he shakes his head in retaliation, “Magnus, do what you need to do. It’s okay.”
Magnus has stopped breathing the moment Alec reached the level, knowing he wouldn’t be able to control himself. He’s been starved for days with poison rotting his body from within. Silver choked him day by day, and his back is mutilated enough that he’s going to have permanent marks. If he went one more day of this torture, he wouldn’t have survived. He’s weak and playing at death’s door, and Alec is here and holding him close.
Alec is his weakness and greatest strength. From the moment they met, he hasn’t been able to resist him. Every inch of his body calls out to him like a beacon calling him home. Everything Alec has to offer him is an inch from his lips, staring at him tauntingly. Surely Alec must know the dangers that lie ahead? Magnus may be hundreds of years old, far older than a fledgling, but even he has his limits. He’s been starved and tortured, and now his love is offering himself to him like he’s not a lamb in a lion’s den right now.
His lover smells like sandalwood because of him, and Magnus makes sure of that every time he rubs his five o’clock shadow against his and runs his fingers along defined muscular arms and knuckles. His shadowhunter is vigorous and mighty, better than any nephilim he’s ever met. To harm him - kill him - would tear Magnus apart.
His blood calls out to him, enrapturing his every sense and sanity. His blood tastes sweet like citrus and buttercream frosting. Its taste is tattooed on the tip of his tongue, driving him wild and utterly addicted. He’s never drunk such enriching, nectarous blood, and maybe it’s what makes Alec the angelic warrior he is. An angelic warrior who risked his life to save him.
Alec, the glamorous fool that he is, contorts his neutral order to a whispering beg, “I trust you. Come on, Magnus.”
Magnus is only a man. He runs the tip of his nose along Alec’s neck, following the carotid artery pulsing there. It calls to him like the sweetest lullaby. His fangs are out by the time his eyes flash black, and he sinks the sharp points into soft skin.
His mouth explodes with flavor, and he digs deeper into the willing body. His moans are muffled, and he hears a loud gasp. He can tell he’s falling, and he’s lost the power to control himself. Every suck feeds him another burst of rich, blissful energy, and he needs more. He needs it all.
Fingers tangle in his hair, pulling him back from where he’s fallen off the deep end. He’s fully awake now, able to sit straight without gravity weighing him down. His head no longer hurts, and his back isn’t bleeding anymore. His ripped skin still throbs, but it’s manageable.
The heavy weight on his lap calms him, and he feels immediate guilt once he realizes his hands dig under Alec’s knees. His arms are stiff from the unrestrained muscular strength holding Alexander close, daring anyone to steal his shadowhunter from him. He relaxes his body, and his tight hold transitions to a soft, loving hug.
Alec shudders when he licks the wound he caused, conjuring the bleeding teeth marks to seal closed. Magnus has to keep him from falling backwards from the bloodloss. He lovingly runs his fingers through Alec’s sweaty dark bangs, anxious to wrap his body around the shadowhunter so tight no one could tell them apart.
Alec whimpers when Magnus picks him up and stands, tossing him over his shoulder like a ragdoll. His back still stings, but Alec is too drained to walk on his own. He’s careful not to jostle him when he reaches down to grab Alec’s forgotten bow on the floor. He heads towards the stairs, “Let’s get out of here, my darling.”
*****
“Can we trust this vampire?”
Alec sighs from where he stands in the alleyway right across the street of the loft building. The building looms over him like a Victorian castle in a historical romance movie Izzy once made him watch. Gloomy clouds cover the blue sky, cascading shadows over the city to make it appear later than it truly is. The sun still shines in the sky, but there is little light to cause damage to the night children of New York.
The Inquisitor advised Alec to visit the leader of the vampires during the day. He understood where she came from. It would be safer for everyone involved to visit with the sun as a backup weapon. Magnus Bane is a very powerful and old vampire. He’s faster and much stronger than most vampires, and many mundane demon hunters claim someone like him to be the alpha vampire. The original vampire with abilities stronger than new generations.
Magnus Bane has never caused any issues with the clave. In fact, he flat out ignores anything shadowhunter related. Alec has reached out to him by phone and fire messages multiple times as Head of the Institute with no response. It would be a problem if his clan caused issues, but very rarely did any vampire related deaths occur. Technically, the accords didn’t require the vampires to communicate with them.
Now the time has come for change. Alec stands in front of Magnus’s loft with the full intention of newfound collaboration. He has to become the leader he’s dreamt of being, and he has to prove his diplomatic skills.
Alec orders Jace and Izzy to stay just outside the perimeter. He needs to do this alone, or he could lose respect for his cowardice and distrust. He glamors his bow and quiver for safekeeping, and he hopes he doesn’t regret bringing them.
He rings the buzzer and gets no reply. The front door does unlock for him, and he takes the elevator to the top level. The massive door slides open, revealing a rather lavish living room with light shades covered in gold and purple embroidered stitches. The paintings on the walls are old fashioned and expensive looking with gold thick frames. There is a piano in the corner, and that’s where an asian male sits with a long silk green tunic and loose pants.
There are piercings lining his right ear, and purple eyeshadow graces his lids. He doesn’t look at Alec when he steps in. He takes another sip of his drink, and Alec has never seen such a gorgeous man. He almost forgets he should be saying something, give his condolences or introduce himself.
“My name is Alec Lightwood,” the shadowhunter pathetically supplies.
“I know,” Magnus comments drily. He doesn’t seem interested as he sits on the piano bench. He taps at his glass with a thick ring on his pointer finger.
Alec wets his lips, “I am very sorry for your loss.”
Magnus finally looks at him then, and black encompasses his eyes. Alec remembers reading once that hungry children of the night grow eyes dark as the sky they walk under, or the coal representing their hearts. At least his mother said that last part to scare Alec and his sister.
Alec is not frightened by the dark void staring back at him, and he might be a fool not to. There’s nothing threatening about Magnus, only sadness and lost. He looks similar to how his mother felt when she found out her husband cheated on her.
The news of the death of Magnus’s human friend, Camille, spread like wildfire. There are two ways a vampire feeds that are approved by the accords. One way is from blood banks, and the other is from the willing.
There’s a club downtown for humans who love the euphoric sensation they receive from venom in their veins. Alec has heard it’s addicting, and most people become hooked very quickly. They seek out vampires in sketchy towns, no longer caring for their safety as long as they can convince a vampire to feed from them.
Some vampires choose one willing person to feed from and no other. The relationship usually becomes intimate, and Alec guesses Camille was Magnus’s lover. She had died from a bullet wound. Apparently, she was a liar and a thief who screwed over the wrong people. Her body had been strung up in front of Magnus’s loft when the sun was at its highest, taunting him with his inability to save her or get her body down.
“Camille was an unobtainable thunderstorm who took the lives of those who cared for her,” Magnus says flatly. “Swept up anyone with a heart and crushed it with her bare hands.”
Alec tilts his head in confusion, trying to understand. He doesn’t want to be insensitive, but he has to ask. “Then why did you feed from her? Were you…”
“I was nothing to her,” he answers with disgust on his face. “I was nothing but a pawn in her game of life.”
Alec understands. His own family has played with his head. His mother tried to marry him off to a woman against his will and had gotten so angry when he confessed his affection for men and men alone. She was trying to use him to get their family name back in good graces, when it was her and his father to tarnish it.
He’s long since refused to listen to anyone but himself.
“What can I do for you, Alexander?” the vampire asks in a dreary tone. A dramatic wide smile toys on his lips, as if he always needed to put up some sort of show.
“I wanted to improve our relationship.” Alec winces the moment the words are said. His cheeks are beet red. “As Head of the New York Institute, I value the alliance among us and downworlders. I believe in everything the accords stand for, and I have noticed your reluctance to speak to me. Er, shadowhunters.”
The vampire doesn’t react. He blinks sluggishly and taps his fingers rhythmically on the piano. He rests a leg on the piano seat. Amusement flickers on his face when he looks away, and Alec feels like a child.
Alec takes a deep breath, “I would like to offer myself to you.”
That gets Magnus’s attention. He could’ve snapped his neck with how fast he turned to gape at him. He sets his glass down and strides over the carpet. He scoffs in disbelief, “You don’t know what you’re offering.”
“I do,” Alec insists with a tight chest. People like Camille are called suppliers or familiars. Someone who supplies one vampire their blood when needed. It’s a glorified servant position. It was a bond like no other that glues them together until one of them dies. Until Alec dies.
There is anguish and uncertainty radiating on Magnus’s face and raised shoulders. The vampire watches him, scrutinizing from the top of his head to his boots. “You’d be mine in every sense of the word. Where you go, I am bound to follow. We will be tied to each other. I feel what you feel, and I would track you to the other side of the world if you run.”
“No need to worry about that,” Alec swallows. “I’m not going to run.”
“It’s this important that I like you, Alexander Lightwood? Putting your life in my hands?”
“It’s important that we trust each other,” Alec corrects kindly. “It’s a two way street here.” That fact is true. Magnus has to trust him just as much as Alec has to trust him. Trust him not to lure him into a trap or kill him when he’s at his most vulnerable.
Alarm bells ring in his mind when Magnus backs him up against a pillar. The vampire hasn’t touched him yet, but he’s watching him with those black orbs for eyes. He can’t remember how long it takes for a vampire’s hunger to begin to show, but color fades from their eyes and skin becomes almost transparent, displaying their dark veins. Both he sees in the male closing in on him, and he tries to keep his wits together so Jace doesn’t sense his growing fear through their bond.
“They’ll just replace me,” Alec gasps as Magnus cages him in. Their chests touch, and they share the same air. He now sees the glitter on his lashes. He closes his eyes when the vampire leans in close. Not to his neck like he thought he would but to his lips. “You kill me, and they’ll get someone who doesn't care about you or your people.”
Magnus inhales his scent, breaking out in a satisfying grin. His lips are sparkling with some sort of gloss, and Alec wonders what flavor it is. “Something tells me you’re irreplaceable.”
Alec’s cheeks grew pinker, and maybe that was Magnus’s intention. Watch as his blood rushes to his head to fill his cheeks. To have someone as beautiful as Magnus standing so close, blatantly holding him hostage with his body and wall. He’s not certain if the vampire was talking about his capabilities as a leader or his blood, but either one makes him jittery.
“Are you-”
“I’ve never fed from a nephilim before,” Magnus explains, shocking Alec. “I don’t know anyone who has, but I can only assume you’ll taste exquisite.”
Shivers run down Alec’s back when cold lips touch the heated skin of his jaw. Can Magnus hear his blood rushing in his ears? Does he see how much he’s shaking? There is a buzz under his skin, his inner turmoil rattled with an equal balance of anxiety and exhilaration for what’s to come. He’s stopped breathing, and the room is beginning to spin.
The feathery touch of Magnus’s lips skim past his jaw to his neck, and Alec mindlessly reaches out to hold something. He chooses the curved collar of Magnus’s shirt, tangling the long necklaces along with it. They must be gold, platinum, or maybe plastic. “Magnus.”
He’s humiliated to know he’s begging for something he’s never had. Nonetheless, he tilts his head to provide more access. Tilting more when he hears a muttered comment about him being pretty. His insides turn to mush and not even the needle point fangs sinking in his skin does anything to alert him of danger.
The moan takes him by surprise. Endorphins release into his bloodstream, and he is riveting with an incredible gush of bliss releasing every bit of tension he once had. His toes curl in his shoes, and he gasps out a startled cry as his arms turn useless and lay limp at his sides. He’s fast approaching a waterfall tumbling down into a pool of red hot pleasure he’s never craved so badly before. He’s hot and sweaty but couldn’t care less. He’s on a cloud flying high, and he loses every bit of himself.
Then, reality starts to slowly return to him, welcoming him back to earth with a warm hug. His head is angled back to rest on the pillar, and his mind is full of cotton. He hums in content and smiles at nothing in particular.
Alec works his eyes open when hears a delighted laugh. Magnus is looking at him like he’s said something funny. He couldn’t string words together if he tried. He may start speaking a mixture of languages.
Magnus’s features shift softer, and Alec sees the bright gold of his eyes. At least that’s what his brain is tricking him to see. They’re nothing he’s ever seen before, and he wants to look at them longer.
Magnus leans closer, and Alec is too out of it to care that he sees traces of his own blood on his lips. Plus, he’s confident that Magnus is the only reason he’s still on his feet. If the hand under his thigh even counts for holding himself up. The way Magnus is everywhere all at once is similar to a bug in a spiderweb. He’s cornered and trapped, but he doesn’t feel like prey. He doesn’t refuse the kiss to his lips, falling deeper as his body succumbs to the pleasure.
His first kiss is shared with the leader of the night children. Oh how his mother would throw a fit.
*******
Alec has never been to Florida, and he plans to never step foot here again. The weather is hot and humid even in the fall. His shirt is glued to his skin, and he would shave his greasy hair completely off if his sister wouldn't shriek obnoxiously loud and bust his eardrum. He’s not used to having sweat layer his entire body, making him feel heavier than he is.
Unfortunately, the local Institute has been having a nasty case of relentless vampires killing mundanes. Apparently they’re slippery bastards, moving all over the state right when the clave has the smallest hint of where their hideout is. They’re unusually good at covering their tracks, and they don’t strike more than once in a particular area.
The Head of the Institute called for the assistance of the New York Institute, which is why Alec is here along with Jace. The two were able to find a witness of the last victim. A woman in her late twenties. Jace and his amazing skill at flirting and batting his eyelashes were able to sweet talk a young girl who found the body. She saw the assailant and described them at great detail. A man as tall as Alec with shoulder length curly hair had the victim against a wall in the alley with his face in her neck.
Two days was all it took for them to locate the vampire, and then even longer to search out every building with blacked out windows that could potentially hold at least a hundred people. Luck finally struck them on the fifth day when they followed the vampire down south. He led them to an abandoned power plant. Alec and Jace then performed surveillance for three days to find out how many they’re dealing with and pinpoint who their leader is.
No such luck, though, and Alec theorized they have an underground tunnel to get in and out. At least they have a location, but they need to bring them down quickly before they move again.
Another attack happens ten miles from the plant, and this time Jace talks to the next witness and gets invited to her home to talk more. Apparently she was a nurse and was rushing to work and had no time to talk then.
Alec decided to go instead, ordering Jace to stick around in case of emergency. Jace can flirt someone’s pants off, but he’s terrible with normal conversation. People tend to think he’s an asshole. Alec wasn’t much better, but he’s good with dealing with emotions. The woman may be freaked out by what she saw.
Alec gets invited into her home, and she offers him a drink. He’s not thirsty, but she seems restless with her hands and wants to be helpful. She brings him a glass of water with lemon, and he drinks half of it out of pure obligation.
“Thanks,” he smiles awkwardly.
“No problem,” she, Mandy, responds. She still has her scrubs on, and her ID dangles from a loop on her pocket. “So, are you like a detective or something?”
Alec is not knowledgeable about mundane jobs, but they seem to feel safer with officers of the law. He needs to get answers, and he’s fine with lying to get them. “Yeah. We’ve been having a hard time catching this killer for weeks. I appreciate you making time for me to ask you a couple of questions.”
Mandy brightens and nods, “Of course! Happy to help get this guy off the streets. I’ve seen these attacks on the news.”
Alec takes another sip, “You said you saw his face?”
“Yes, I did. About six foot? Long curly brown hair. Light brown eyes and thin nose. I’ve seen him before,” she tells him as she thinks. She rubs her arms, “I've been trying to remember his name. It’s been on the tip of my tongue all day.”
Alec chokes on his water, “His name? You know his name?”
Mandy smiles, bobbing her long straight blonde hair. She takes off her jacket. “I see him with this woman at the hospital sometimes. I swear she dresses like she belongs in a history book.” She snorts at that and makes her way to the hallway, “I’m going to go change.”
Alec’s brows shoot up his forehead, not believing he’s finally getting somewhere. He watches anxiously as she leaves, wanting to ask more. He walks around the corner and finds a mini library in an extra room.
A light turns on, and Alec winces at the intensity. It pinches a nerve of some sort, and his head aches.
“Oh, shoot! Sorry,” Mandy apologizes from the doorway. “I read a lot. I’m in this room more than my own bedroom.” She laughs fondly, and Alec can see she’s nervous or rattled. “Stay here if you want. I’ll be right back.”
Alec sighs irritably and decides to check out some of the shelves. He should text Jace and tell him it might take longer than expected, but Jace usually finds something to entertain himself with. He probably went to a bar.
He finds mostly romance books. The kind that Izzy would like and Clary would hate. They look silly based on their covers. Most of them with a half naked man holding a petite woman.
There are some science fiction books and fantasy. The book titles are all blurring together, and he could probably guess what happens in all of them. Mundane books tend to end the same way. The hero wins, and the villain dies. The hero gets the girl, and the world is saved from mass destruction.
He scowls, blinking rapidly when he finds the fantasy romance collection. Dumb mundanes and their love of romanticizing werewolves and vampires. He takes another sip of his water. He doesn’t realize how tired he is, and he seeks out the pink couch in the corner.
“You know what?” a voice comes from the doorway. Mandy is back and in a sweater and silk shorts. Alec has a hard time looking at her with all the light. “All the nurses on the day shift sometimes refer to her as a demon.”
“What?” Alec asks, confused.
“At certain angles her eyes look red,” she goes on. “We like to joke that she comes to the hospital and steals blood bags because she’s a vampire.” Her tone is joking, and she shakes her head in amused disbelief.
Alec laughs awkwardly, “Vampires aren’t real.”
“I know that,” she teases. She gestures to the back of the room. “I’ve done enough research on them to know that.”
Alec turns in curiosity and goes to stand, but his legs are wobbly. He drops his glass, and water sprays onto the carpet. “I don’t, shoot. I’m sorry,” he apologizes drunkenly.
She doesn’t comment, ignoring his stumbling, “I wonder how it feels to be fed on by a vampire.” Her voice is dreamy as she hypothesizes. “All the books say it’s sensational. All the endorphins in your body. The pleasure they must make you feel. No wonder people seek them out, beg them to feed from them.”
Alec’s head is really beginning to hurt, and he grabs the couch to refrain from falling. “Mandy…”
A firm hand pushes his upper back, and he falls with a grunt. He fights to breathe with his chest too heavy to properly inhale. Another hand turns him over, but this time it’s a man with curly brown hair. The vampire. He’s looking at Alec like a piece of steak. Alec spots his abandoned cup by his feet.
She drugged him. The mundane drugged him.
His head is pounding, and his muscles are useless when he tries to get up to no avail.
“My ego has been stroked,” the vampire hums above him. “The Head of the New York Institute came down to help the useless shadowhunters here. Have I shook them up? Do they even know my name?”
Alec’s tongue is thick in his mouth, and all he can do in this state is glare. Even then, though, it’s weak and childish. He spots Mandy a few feet away watching the vampire watch him. There’s lust in her eyes right along with admiration.
Some humans will lure other humans to the hands of a vampire. They do this so the vampire will feed from them for their services. They’ve gotten themselves addicted to the way their venom makes them feel. Some of them can’t even function without craving for a vampire to sink their fangs into them. This seems to be the case with the way Mandy is looking at him like he has all the answers.
Alec is slowly falling unconscious. The colors of the room are fading together, and their voices sound muffled. He has no feeling in his body, falling numb and unresponsive.
Alec is too weak to defend himself from the prying hands unbuttoning his shirt. He shakes his head by a fraction, but his anguish is ignored. He hears loud banging from far away, but cold fingers continue to grasp his chin and tilt his head. Hot air washes his vulnerable neck, and he whimpers.
“Wait, Aidan, are those-“
The heavy weight of the vampire is flung off him, and the sound of bone cracking and screams fill the room. Alec whimpers at the shouting. The pain in his head is borderline excruciating, and the fighting is making it worse.
Alec is completely out of it when a hand caresses his cheek. He leans into it, knowing who it is without opening his eyes.
“Alec, my darling,” a sensual voice stirs him awake. Magnus shushes him when he struggles to move. He gently checks his cheeks, neck, and eyes. The shadowhunter grunts in fatigued pain. “You’re okay, Alec. I’m here.”
He must’ve made a face because Magnus plays with his sweaty hair. “I’ve said it before. Where you go, I go.”
A choked up cry comes from the corner of the room. Magnus stands slowly and looks at Mandy as if he just now noticed her presence. She’s crying and shaking against the wall. She brings her hands up when Magnus takes a step towards her.
He’s unmoving and tense, reminding Alec he is a predator. In this case, though, it’s not hunger driving him but unadulterated rage fuming off him in waves.
“I’m sorry,” Mandy cries desperately. “I didn’t know he was a supplier. I would never have-“
“A crime punishable by death,” Magnus seethes. His tone is cold like his skin and has a calmness about it that would put anyone on edge. In a blink, he has her by her neck and holds her up against the wall. Her screams are cut off completely, and she scratches at the vampire’s arms.
It’s not her fault. Alec works to move his fingers, but the action only tires him out. He forms words on silent lips, “Mags…”
Thankfully Magnus has supernatural hearing, “Alexander?”
Even to Alec, his voice is emotionless. “Stop,” the drugged shadowhunter gasps out. He can’t let Magnus kill her, especially when she can’t control herself. She has an addiction. She needs help more than anything.
The best thing about having a couple centuries old vampire is that there is no chance of Alec getting addicted to his venom. Magnus is too old for it to be a risk. He knows what he’s doing, and he wouldn’t bring Alec pain that Mandy currently is in.
“Oh my angels, Magnus. What did you do?”
Jace is here. Jace is safe. Alec is relieved.
Magnus not so gently shoves a hysterical Mandy to Jace, who catches her easily. “Who’s this?”
“She needs to come with us to New York to be treated for addiction,” he grunts, obviously not happy with the decision. “I already dealt with the clan leader here. Take her. I’ll get Alexander.”
Alec is seconds from going unconscious. Magnus hovers over him, kissing his clammy forehead. Magnus breathes him in, and Alec can’t imagine he smells very good right now. Regardless, Alec soaks in the attention, realizing right then how at ease he is with Magnus here.
A thought occurs to him and guilt riddens him, “I’m sorry.” Maybe it’s the drugs making him emotional, but his eyes burn with tears. Magnus wipes them away. “My blood…”
His blood is tainted. He’s no use to Magnus now. He’s failed him, and he’s let him down.
“My darling,” the vampire hushes him gently like one would with a distressed horse. “You are my everything. You give me life. You make me feel alive again, and I don’t think you understand what little I wouldn’t do for you.”
Unconsciousness is waning his focus, but he hears the words all the same. “I love you.”
Alec’s eyes flutter closed. Magnus picks him up bridal style and walks them both out of the house. The last thing he sees is a severed head on the floor.
*****
Everything about Alec is warm. His smile is warm. His scent is warm. The happiness, the butterflies Alec puts in his belly are warm. Warm as a summer day. Magnus will never feel the heat the sun offers, but the way Alec’s smile makes him feel has to be in some way similar.
He’s especially warm here, writhing on top of him driven by his own pleasure. His skin is flushed, and his eyes are squeezed shut as if everything he feels is too much. His hands are planted on Magnus’s chest, bringing himself up and down in a rhythm that’s not quite clear.
Magnus is happy to lie there and be used by his lover. Content with watching the shadowhunter fall down the slippery slope to his climax. He runs his fingers along Alec’s knees, crawling towards his hairy thighs. He sees marks on the inside of his thighs every time he lifts up. The marks created by his very own fangs when he laid him on his back thirty minutes prior and held his legs open to feed on the tender skin.
The way Alec sang for him was music to his ears. His moans and cries of pleasure will forever play on repeat in his head.
His thighs are beginning to shake from fatigue. His movements grow rapid and desperate, swiveling his hips trying to find the perfect angle that hits his prostate dead on. Magnus can tell he finds it when he squeezes tight around his cock with a curse and proceeds to hasten his pace. His short nails dig into Magnus’s chest for balance.
“You’re so beautiful, Alexander,” he whispers encouragingly. He reaches down and strokes his cock in time with his thrusts. “I love you.”
Alec flutters his eyes open. His pupils are large and filled with lust, and his chest and neck drip with sweat. “I love you too,” he says right back with such devotion Magnus doesn’t know how to handle it. He could worship this man every day for the rest of his life and still not get enough.
Alec cries out when he comes, and Magnus grabs his waist and fucks him through his orgasm. He flips them over without pulling out and ravages him while pinning his wrists to the sheets.
His orgasm is fast approaching, and he turns his head to run his tongue along the shadowhunter’s neck. Alec groggily tilts his head, and Magnus sinks his teeth into the vulnerable skin. He comes at the first taste of rich blood. Alec wraps his legs around him even though he must be oversensitive.
Alec whimpers when Magnus retracts his fangs, and he pulls out soon after. He goes to retrieve a washcloth to clean both of them before settling back down. Arms wrap around his midsection, bringing their bodies together.
Alec sniffs at his hair. “I love your smell.”
Magnus smiles.
*****
Alec watches intently as Magnus stands in the doorway of the building. He has an outstretched hand a foot from where the sunlight pours from off the rooftops.
This entire thing was based on a dumb theory when Jace let Simon drink from him when he looked like Clary. The next day Simon was able to walk in the sun without being harmed, becoming a daylighter. They figured out there is pure angel blood in Jace that made it possible, and Izzy and Simon believe Alec could possibly do the same thing for Magnus. Although, he would have to feed off him more to make up for his diluted blood.
It’s different, though, with Jace having actual pure angel blood. Alec had at first suggested Magnus could drink from Jace since it worked for Simon. Bile had risen when he spoke, growing irrationally angry at the thought of his lover feeding from someone other than him. Thankfully, Magnus had shut it down and said that will be the last option. He wanted to try it with Alec first, and the shadowhunter had been relieved.
Now they both watch as Magnus steps closer to the outside. Alec is ready to shove him back inside the moment he thinks Magnus is in danger. He will have to get over his displeasure of letting Magnus feed from Jace. It would be good for Magnus to become a daylighter. He can take the vampire on a proper date.
With a huff, Magnus takes that last step and submerges his hand into the sun. They watch with bated breath, and excitement coils in Alec’s belly when nothing happens. Magnus takes one more step, fully in the sun now.
Alec’s cheeks hurt from how hard he’s smiling, and he pulls Magnus into a passionate kiss. They both erupt in laughter, overjoyed with no longer being trapped inside and able to spend every day together. He caresses Magnus’s cheeks, “I love you.”
“And I love you, Alexander.”