Chapter Text
“Why me?” Magnus asked at last.
“ Because ,” Raphael said, his voice thin and drawn. “Ragnor, and every other warlock I’ve called have decided that this situation is exactly your type.”
Magnus frowned. “How many warlocks did you call before me? Actually, wait, don’t answer that. What do you mean this situation is my type?”
“Shadowhunter,” Raphael said, and it all clicked into place.
“I don’t know if you’ve heard but I don’t-“
“Black hair, blue eyes,” Raphael went on as if he hadn’t heard Magnus. “Lost cause who needs saving. Death wish? Definitely. Come here as soon as you can.”
I don’t involve myself with Shadowhunters anymore, Magnus had wanted to say, but it didn’t matter. Raphael had already cut the call.
Magnus sighed and dropped his phone to the side, locking eyes with Chairman Meow who'd been sitting on the floor next to the coffee table, watching him with his beady green cat eyes ever since Raphael called him two minutes ago.
“I guess I’ll be going off to the Hotel Dumort, then,” Magnus said.
Chairman meowed.
All Magnus was told about this situation was “a violation of the Accords” and “we need you here NOW”. Oh, and that apparently the perpetrator was a Shadowhunter . Raphael had said he was ‘Magnus’s type’ - as if Magnus would seduce a Shadowhunter into leaving the Downworld alone.
Besides, if a Shadowhunter was wrecking havoc at the Hotel Dumort, Magnus doubted he could be seduced by a warlock anyways.
But when he portalled into the foyer of the Hotel Dumort, there was no havoc. There was only silence.
“Raphael!” Magnus called out. Faint echoes of his own voice reached his ears, followed immediately by a voice from right behind him.
“There you are.”
Magnus jumped and whirled around, calming down when he saw it was just Raphael.
“Damn you vampires and your silent footsteps,” Magnus cursed silently. Raphael didn't grace him with a reply.
“He’s in there,” Raphael cocked his head in the direction of what Magnus recognised to be the ballroom. Well, the former ballroom. No balls had been held in there for the past few decades, atleast not to Magnus’s knowledge.
“What’s the problem?” Magnus asked. “Because there doesn’t seem to be one.”
"Walk and talk," Raphael grumbled, gesturing at Magnus to follow him as he turned on his heel and headed into the ballroom.
"He came in here a while ago," Raphael said. "And has been goading the clan into sucking his blood."
" What?" Magnus knitted his eyebrows. "Why would he-"
"I don't know," Raphael almost growled, clearly agitated at the situation. "I've kept the clan at bay so far but I can't hold them for long. The Shadowhunter entered the Hotel at his own will, technically we are at liberty to do with him as we please, but-"
"He's a Shadowhunter," Magnus murmured. He had entered the ballroom now, and throes of Vampires parted at the sight of him and Raphael, giving way to the middle of the room. "If he dies here, the rest of them will come down on you."
"Precisely," Raphael said, his voice clipped. "Stop him."
Magnus stepped ahead of Raphael, making his way through the vampires as quickly as he could. The last of the crowd gave way, and then Magnus saw the Shadowhunter for the first time.
He was sitting cross-legged in the center of the room, head bowed, a pale finger tracing something in the dirt lined floor. If Raphael hadn't told Magnus he was a Shadowhunter, Magnus would've thought he was a mundane - he was certainly dressed like one, in a gray sweater too large for him and similarly oversized jeans.
The boy must've heard Magnus’s footsteps, for he raised his head, cold blue eyes cutting across Magnus’s gaze.
Something about that gaze troubled Magnus. There was something hollow in there, almost dead.
There was also something familiar about him.
"Is that…?" Magnus murmured.
"Maryse Lightwood's brat?" said Raphael, who had by now caught up to Magnus. "Yes."
Another piece clicked into place.
"Well, then there's definitely something shady going on," Magnus whispered to him.
"What are you talking about?"
Magnus whirled, looking once again at the Shadowhunter.
"If you're talking about me," he said, "You might as well say it to my face."
Magnus briefly locked eyes with Raphael, and then stepped forward.
"What do you want, Shadowhunter?" He asked, loud and firm.
The Shadowhunter was silent a moment, then he tilted his head, the way Chairman did sometimes when he assessed a stranger, and said, "I want to die."
Magnus was stumped.
He blinked, once, then twice, and quickly recovering from his stupor he asked, "Why?"
"It's none of your business," The Shadowhunter said hurriedly. "I don't see how any of this is your business, in fact. I want to die, and I know vampires love Nephilim blood. I get what I want, and they get what they want."
"Except for the part where they turn you into a vampire instead of keeping you dead," Magnus pointed out. "Or mommy and daddy come after all of us for murdering their baby boy. They're notoriously famous for that ."
"I wouldn’t mind that. Becoming a vampire," The Shadowhunter said, to Magnus’s surprise. "And as for the other thing…" Something shuttered close in his eyes. "You won't have to worry about my family coming down on you. You won't have to worry about any Shadowhunter coming down on you, in fact."
The boy raised his hands, palms facing himself, and it took Magnus a moment to realise what was wrong with them.
There was no Voyance rune on either of his hands.
"As far as they're concerned," he said, and now his voice was hollow too. "I am no longer one of them."
Magnus liked to imagine he had two brain cells. A back one and a front one.
The back one was fast - it did all the legwork and simply gave Magnus the information he needed in that moment. The front one, though somewhat slow, told him what he needed to do with the information he had.
Right now, the back brain cell was telling him, The Shadowhunter for some reason got deruned and is now practically a mundane in the eyes of the Law.
All the front one was willing to give him was, Fuck.
There was murmuring breaking out among the vampires now. Magnus couldn't hear what they were saying, but he suspected the gist of it was something like, Well, if he's deruned, there's no harm in drinking his blood and killing him, right?
"EVERYBODY SHUT UP! NO ONE IS GOING TO DRAIN THE LIGHTWOOD BOY!" Raphael yelled, confirming Magnus’s thoughts.
"Lady Camille would've let us drain him," a vampire muttered sullenly from someone behind.
"Dale!" another vampire hissed from nearby, this one a woman. "We don't mention Lady Camille around Magnus Bane, remember?"
Magnus raised an eyebrow at Raphael. Raphael simply shrugged.
"Simply trying to spare your feelings," he said.
Magnus sighed. "Nevermind that. Now-" He turned back to the Nephilim boy, who was still sitting on the ground, eyes flitting among the vampires - who were still muttering in spite of Raphael's orders. "What about him?"
"You have to get him out of here," Raphael hissed. " Now."
Before Magnus could even think of what to do next, the Shadowhunter stood up in one swift move, graceful even with the lack of runes. Just as swiftly, he brought his wrist to his mouth, teeth tearing at pale skin.
The dirt on the floor quickly soaked up the splash of deep red blood that landed on it.
Like a ripple, the smell of fresh Angelic blood hit the noses of every single vampire in the room.
Behind Magnus, Raphael swore in a low voice.
"So," the Shadowhunter said. "Who wants to go first?"
In the silence that followed, one could hear each drop of the Nephilim's blood hit the floor.
Plop .
There was a stain of blood red on the Shadowhunter's teeth and lips.
Plop.
The vampires looked on, eyes wide and nostrils dilated. Magnus heard a click behind him as someone's fangs popped out.
Plop.
Magnus had to act, and fast.