The Red Scrolls of Magic (The Eldest Curses, #1)(95)

Alec pulled him even closer. Into Magnus’s ear he whispered, “I would never let you go.”



THEY HAD EXACTLY THREE SECONDS to bask in the relief of reunion. The fallout from a failed ritual of this magnitude was spectacular on many levels.

The ritual’s last gasp was a sudden, violent expulsion of magical energy, a thunderous crack followed by an explosion that blew a mushroom cloud of smoke and dust into the air. Magnus wrapped his arms around Alec, casting a hasty spell to protect them both from flying wreckage.

When the explosion had finally ended, Magnus warily lowered his magical shields. He was still sitting with his arms and legs wrapped around Alec, who was blinking and glancing around.

“Stop telling me to let you go,” said Alec. “I will never listen. I want to be with you. I never wanted anything more in my life. If you fall, I want to fall with you.”

“Stay with me,” Magnus said, taking Alec’s face in his hands. The fires burning around them, reflected in Alec’s eyes, became stars. “I love being with you. I love everything about you, Alexander.”

Magnus drew Alec into a kiss and felt Alec soften against him, his tightly knotted muscles relaxing. Alec tasted like heat and dirt and blood and heaven. Magnus felt the butterfly-soft brush of Alec’s lashes against his own cheek as Alec’s eyes fell shut again.

“Guys!” said a woman’s voice. “I’m happy for your reunion, but there’s still cultists all over this place. Let’s go.”

Magnus looked up at the dark-haired woman, one of the Shadowhunter girls who had helped Alec. Jia Penhallow’s daughter, he realized. Then he looked around at the devastation surrounding them on all sides.

The air was still alive with magic, and part of the villa had caught fire, but the danger seemed to have passed. Most of the Crimson Hand cult members had fled; the rest were in the process of fleeing or were on the ground, wounded. A few of the more fanatical and stupid ones were trying to rally the rest to take control of the situation.

“You’re totally right,” said Magnus to the Penhallow girl. “This is not the time for love. This is the time for leaving immediately.”

He and Alec scrambled to their feet and made their way beside Aline to the front of the villa. The area seemed to be free of demons and cultists, at least for now. Helen was already there, and had bound Shinyun’s wrists to a broken marble pillar.

Shinyun was silent, her head bowed. Magnus did not know whether she was physically hurt or only despondent. The two Shadowhunter women were deep in a whispered conversation: he studied them both, suddenly recognizing the golden-haired one from Council sessions. “You’re Helen Blackthorn. From the Los Angeles Institute, right?”

Looking startled, Helen nodded.

Magnus turned to the smaller woman. “And you must be Jia’s daughter. Irene?”

“Aline,” blurted Aline, her eyes wide. “I didn’t think you knew my name. I mean, you were close enough. I saw you and Alec from a distance at the Gard. I’m a big fan.”

“Always a pleasure to meet a fan,” said Magnus. “You’re the image of your mother.”

He and Jia occasionally made cutting remarks about various Clave members to each other in Mandarin. She was a nice lady.

Alec nodded to Aline and Helen. “I couldn’t have gotten to you without them.”

“Thank you both,” said Magnus, “for coming to rescue me.”

The golden-haired girl with the fey ears and the Blackthorn eyes twitched.

“I didn’t come to rescue you,” Helen confessed. “I was planning on bringing you in for questioning. I mean . . . before. Not now, obviously.”

“Well,” said Magnus. “That worked out pretty well for me. Thanks anyway.”

“There’s about a zero percent chance the Shadowhunters at the Rome Institute aren’t going to notice a gladiatorial ring going supernova in the hills,” said Aline. She leaned against a crumbling marble wall and looked cheerfully up at Helen. “Congratulations, Blackthorn. You get to call for reinforcements at last.”

Helen did not smile back at Aline. She scribbled a fire-message and sent it on its way, her face very pale.

“What are we going to tell the other Shadowhunters?” Aline asked. “I still have no idea what happened in the pentagram.”

Magnus began to talk his way through an abbreviated version of the night’s events, leaving out only the detail of Asmodeus being his father. He knew he should tell them, and yet his father’s words echoed in his head. If he did know, I’d have to kill him. Can’t have one of the Nephilim knowing about my eldest curse.

Asmodeus was gone, but he wasn’t dead. Magnus hated obeying his father, but he would not do anything that meant he might lose Alec. Not now.

Shinyun’s bowed head lifted as Magnus spoke, and he saw her eyes narrow in her still face as she realized what he was leaving out.

She could tear Magnus’s last facade apart, he knew. She could tell these Nephilim the whole truth right now. Magnus bit his lip, tasting blood and fear.

Shinyun said nothing. She did not even open her mouth. Her eyes seemed to be fixed on the distance, as if the real Shinyun were far away.

“Shinyun did try to stop the Greater Demon, in the end,” Magnus said, almost against his will.

“And then she tried to kill you,” pointed out Alec.