#arkosios

(Next Chapter)

Mornings always proved challenging, and the comfort of his bed only made the negative feelings about his situation stronger. No amount of sunshine could brighten his mood in recent years, nor could the fluff of his blanket as the light disappeared and his room darkened once more. No extreme or mixture within gave him a sense of comfort.

His oldest friend, Raphael, made it a point to include him despite their opposing heritage. The far-too-old Shadowhunter befriending the vampiric member of Hotel DuMort would be humorous to their kin. The two species couldn’t get along despite their similar situations—being hunted for their blood.

Raphael was unique, just like his people. Eljah wished he could share the same sentiment with his own people, but he’d felt their wrath before and it was a losing game. Although, technically, he was one of a kind. He didn’t have people or true kin because he was an abomination. And abominations don’t get the luxury of friends and family.

“I’m supposed to be hiding in the shadows, not you,” Raphael sighed as he walked into the room. Candles illuminated the room and the blackout curtains prevented the deadly sunlight from getting in.

“I might as well be just as allergic as you, Rafa.”

“Hardly. Up.” Raphael lifted the plush white blanket before grasping onto Eljah’s arm. With multiple complaints and some unkind words, the small boy was upright. His hair was always messy, conscious or unconscious, to the point it became a style. Random silver strips contrasted the shadowy brown overtaking his head. Over the previous months, his hair grew longer, making him feel more feminine than he could have while growing up. If the downworld thought Shadowhunters were bad now, they could rest easy with the image of the Clave’s earlier days.

“What is the nest up to today?” The two had known each other for a long time; long enough to not shy away at the sight of skin and boxers. Eljah crossed to his dresser while Raphael spoke, jumping with the change in temperature upon contact.

“Nothing you have to worry about, even though I know you will.” Raphael laughed at the little hops Eljah made while dressing himself.

“I can’t help it. You guys are stuck with me now, so I have no choice but to care.”

Eljah slid a pair of shorts that rested low against his hips and a t-shirt that drowned him. August was his least favorite month because it was inevitably the hottest one. Manhattan sucked in the humid weather and bubbled it until a rush of cold would pop it. You either stayed in your home or flocked to an indoor business—Eljah’s goal tonight—to beat the heat.

“That is true, my mistake,” Raphael poked fun, receiving a stare from the male opposite him, “but seriously, just enjoy your night and I’ll find something for you to do this week, hm?”

“You said that last week, Santiago.”

“Damn, we are going by last names now, Winterscaar?”

“Oh, bruto gross, no. My mistake,” Eljah repeated. The two shared hushed giggles, but eventually it went silent. It wasn’t uncomfortable, but Raphael’s aura became serious; Eljah hated to watch the swirls switch from bright yellow to mushy turquoise when he went into big-brother mode.

“There’s something out there that will make you happy. I know it. Maybe it’s here in the nest or on the other side of New York. Hell, another continent. I’ll help you find it.”

“How are you gonna find it if it’s on another continent? TSA will have to mark you as combustible material before you step foot on a plane.”

“Not funny.”

“It’s a bit funny, mano…” Raphael choked back a sigh, already used to the flammability jokes.

Raphael seemed to have more to say, but a knock sounded at the door. Raphael went to check it and Eljah activated the LED lights built into all the rooms. Eljah heard basic mumbles and words of confirmation before Raphael exited, saluting to his best friend.

Eljah knew what time it was already. Every day had a clockwork aspect to them, and he’d long since adjusted to the schedule of vampires. As his day started, most ended. It made slipping into night life easier and letting himself deal with emotions in his own way: drunk and/or high.

“You don’t look 22,” the bodyguard argued. Eljah had taken the time to walk his way to the club (and pre-game smoke). He didn’t fully feel the effects, but the immediate boost in confidence after every hit had him ready to make a bold move if needed. He wanted to cave his own head in every time someone accused him of being underage.

“That seems racially motivated.” He enjoyed watching people’s faces when he threw out that card. It was a common misconception amongst those who have never met shadowhunters that they were all pale-skinned white dudes with insane amounts of tattoos. Eljah himself was technically white, but it was the minority of his genetics. His father was Puerto Rican, and he’d grown up in San Juan before integrating into the Mexico City Institute. He found New York bland compared to the colorful buildings, streets, and culture of his hometown.

The man guarding the door was not white either. “Go back home, kid.”

“Este imbécil,” rolling his amber eyes. He placed his hands upon his eyelids, allowing the energy in his bones to circulate. Within milliseconds, the silvery cover slithered over his vision and the energy connected to the bodyguard’s light and powdery one. Eljah focused on forcing a command into the other man’s consciousness.

A voice echoed, “ah, ah, ah, no need,” a veil laid itself over his magic, “it’s not nice to compel random people.”

“Do you gain anything from that?”

“Just slight amusement,” the acicalao with short, spiked hair responded, “I know every warlock in Brooklyn, but I don’t know you. Why’s that?”

“New in town.”

“Are you now? Well, then, why don’t I introduce you to a little New York nightlife, hm?”

“The only thing I need introduced to is something strong.”

“That can be arranged. Come on in.”

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ARKOSIOS : Shadowhunter of demonic descent. Known Arkosios: Tessa Gray (tɛ́sə gré) and Eljah Winterscaar (ɛ́lyə winterscar).

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Chapter 1: PanDEMONium .☘︎ ݁˖

Chapter 2: Jewel .☘︎ ݁˖

Chapter 3: Adventures in Parabatai .☘︎ ݁˖

Chapter 4: Velvet Couches and Demon Summoning .☘︎ ݁˖

Chapter 5 (Mini/Bonus): Brujo Atractivo .☘︎ ݁˖

Chapter 6: Park Slope .☘︎ ݁˖

Chapter 7: Trouble In Paradise .☘︎ ݁˖

Chapter 8: Magic for Stains .☘︎ ݁˖

Chapter 9: New Dye-Job and Pig Pens .☘︎ ݁˖

Chapter 10: I Work Here .☘︎ ݁˖

Chapter 11: The New York Institute .☘︎ ݁˖

Chapter 12 (Mini/Bonus): No Me Decepciones, Lightwood .☘︎ ݁˖

Chapter 13: Not Started .☘︎ ݁˖

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Extra Content

Incorrect Quotes .☘︎ ݁˖

(Previous Chapter) (Next Chapter)

“I left extra bedding in the closet. I’m sure you can call Magnus to help transfer your stuff,” Alec said as he rolled up the sleeves of his jacket, trying to look at anything but Eljah, like the blank walls were interesting. At the smaller man’s silence, he turned around and raised his eyebrows. “You okay?”

Eljah brushed the question off with a similar expression to Alec with drawn lips. “I’ll be fine. Don’t act shocked when I do force Magnus to redecorate this place, though.”

Alec smirked a little, huffing out a laugh. His aura was lightening with his stress levels and it made Eljah’s follow, simply happy to see him happy.

“I’m next door but I’m, you know… always doing something.” He swallowed in an attempt to bite back his painful inability to act cool. “I left my contact on the side table in case you can’t find me… or the others, around.”

Eljah’s mouth formed a reverse smile, but it didn’t accurately convey his emotions. He found it genuine and kind that Alec would go through the effort of finding and filling a room for Eljah, instead of simply ordering someone else to do it, and then leaving a way to reach the shadowhunter at all times.

Maybe he was overthinking it. The man was still unsure if Alec would ever match with him like he did with Magnus. They looked… complete when they were together, and Eljah couldn’t deny it. Hell, Izzy even made a joke about Magnus. Clearly, people see something possible between the two.

No one ever saw Eljah as a possibility.

“Thank you, Alec. You don’t have to worry about me. I’ll get out of your family’s hair as soon as I can, I promise.”

“You don’t have to.”

“What?”

“I mean… you could always… stay,” he stuttered and struggled to maintain eye contact.

“Alec-”

“I’m just saying. It’s dangerous for Shadowhunters even from inside the Institute… imagining you out there on your own, it’s… It’s just too risky, okay?”

“Do you want me to stay because it’s dangerous, or?…”

“I don’t know. I can’t-” he closed his mouth in a tight line, breathing deeply with his eyes shut. “I don’t know… but if you stay, I could try to… figure it out.”

“Would you do that?”

“I think I would.”

“No me decepciones, Lightwood.” Alec absolutely had no idea what Eljah was saying (he liked French and Latin best growing up), but he sheepishly smiled regardless.

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(Previous Chapter) (Next Chapter)

Jace strutted confidently back through the NYPD doors, the rest following in confusion. When Eljah tried to catch up to the redhead, Alec pulled him back.

“Just let them do their thing.”

“What does it matter who I follow?” Although Eljah was thinking he was tired of being around the lovebirds, Clary was the only one he felt comfortable around. She was new to this world, and in a way, he was, too. He’d been so far removed from the world, without a choice, that things had completely changed.

Alec didn’t even respond, only rolling his eyes.

The three traveled down a skinny flight of stairs and walked through big, blue glass doors. This area was more packed. Eljah was slightly worried about being seen again by reoccurring employees, taking a spot in between but somewhat behind the siblings, using Alec’s height to shield him as he stood against a pillar.

“Okay, I’m guessing you’re the distraction?” Alec asked his sister. Eljah had expected the same, used to Isabelle’s natural charm even though he hadn’t known her long.

“Nope! I’ve decided to grow up, remember?” lowering her head and looking toward Alec. “No more distracting for me.”

Alec was physically tweaking, hand tapping his thigh rapidly. He knew what that meant, and so did Eljah.

“Besides, I don’t think I’m her type…” gazing at the woman seated at the surprisingly small front desk.

“Oh, crap,” Alec mumbled. It made the smaller man giggle, which Alec glared in response to. His hands were wiping down his jacket and readjusting it, a rare sight to see, as his palms got sweaty.

“Don’t worry, it’s good practice,” Isabelle encouraged. Poor Alec was not encouraged.

“Huh?”

“You know, for asking out Magnus.” Eljah also looked at a laughing Isabelle at the mention of the older warlock. It was painful when Alec turned to look at Eljah, who was covering a smile under his hand. The man just sighed.

“What are you… What are you doing?” Alec struggled against Isabelle’s attempts to make him more attractive to the female gaze. His voice wavered, and it was adorable in Eljah’s eyes. The tall man acted like a shy schoolgirl when he was around him.

“Unbuttoning your shirt. What’s it look like I’m doing?” Isabelle overpowered with strict focus, interrupted by Alec aggressively pushing her hands away. Eljah wasn’t fond of aggression towards women, but it was different with siblings, obviously.

“Izzy, this is not really my department,” Alec stressed. Eljah popped from his spot against the wall, replacing Izzy.

“Take a deep breath,” he emphasized with a hand to his jacket, “just… pretend it’s someone else.” Eljah refused to say, “pretend it’s me,” because it would be one hundred percent pretentious. Alec didn’t look like he was listening, though (despite actively doing so), eyes locked on the smaller man in front of him. He swallowed thickly, almost like he was going to choke.

“It’s easy,” Izzy chimed in, patting his back in support. Alec took a deep breath with a grasp of Eljah’s hand, holding it longer than expected as his eyes rolled back into his head. He released it, and Isabelle and Eljah stood back in awe as they watched Alec approach the desk.

“Hey,” he smiled cutely to alert the woman. She didn’t look all that affected just by looking at Alec (Eljah was envious), most likely because she was middle-aged.

“Can I help you?”

“Yeah, um…” he stuttered roughly, “you- you come here often?” Eljah could’ve facepalmed, but he stood completely still, otherwise he would’ve cackled. Oh, it hurt. It really hurt.

She was in disbelief, rolling her eyes before stating the obvious. “I work here. What can I help you with?” Eljah wiped the corners of his mouth to erase the smile on his face, jutting Izzy to do the same.

“Right, right, right. Yeah, um… I’m just looking for some information,” he began rattling off wildly. Eljah almost forgot they were doing all this to steal her keycard.

Alec acted shocked to see the pamphlets clearly laid out, but purposefully pushed over the officer’s water bottle and pilfered the card to Izzy with a swipe.

He apologized profusely, attempting to help while keeping her distracted. Eljah stayed put as Izzy walked forward, catching the badge with ease.

Eljah couldn’t help but repeatedly slap Alec’s arm in excitement when the two reunited, splitting off from Isabelle. “You did it!” he released in a low shriek. Alec played it off, but he was smirking with clear pride in himself, egged on by Eljah’s encouragement.

—

Alec returned to stoic as they fully regrouped. “Did you get it?”

“Theoretically,” Clary answered.

“Theoretically?” Alec repeated, already getting agitated again.

“I- I found the card. I just have to figure out how I reached into my notebook before. It’s- It’s not an exact science,” she further explained.

“Can’t you just pull the Cup out?” Alec was being annoying again and Eljah knocked his arm in light retribution, whispering, “she just told you she has to figure it out.” Alec at least feigned hurt.

“It’s not as easy as it looks, Alec!” Clary countered.

“Listen, you two can discuss theories as much as you want when we get back to the Institute. But right now, considering we just stole from the cops, I suggest we get home.” Jace was serious, and the flashing blue and red lights made his expression grimmer.

“Guys…” Isabelle whispering, her necklace (which Eljah remembered vividly) pulsing on her neck. “I think the mundanes might be the least of our worries.”

“Well, at least we have the demon necklace,” Alec appreciated.

“Thank you, Magnus,” Eljah jokingly sighed. Credit where credit is due!

“Thank you, Magnus,” Alec echoed.

Jace moved first, leading the group calmly away, saying, “never a dull day. Let’s go.” While it should’ve been simple, Clary called out to the group.

“Guys, slow down!”

“¿Qué pasa, rojo? What’s wrong, red?” Eljah called out, turning to see Clary had bumped into something; something was not the old grandma Clary claimed to have seen. As he turned to the commotion, the demon had four sharp rods of teeth extended toward his new friend, more rows at the ready inside its mouth.

While Eljah wanted to lunge to help her, Alec hooked an arm around the slighter man, effectively telling him to let Jace handle it.

“Tienes suerte de que me gustes You are lucky I like you,” Eljah hissed up at the man holding him back, who looked perplexed at the sudden anger Eljah presented, letting him go promptly.

“Te acostumbras You get used to it,” Isabelle grinned. Eljah totally forgot they were a Latinx family, unaccustomed to anyone but Raphael understanding him. Puerto Rican Spanish wasn’t vastly different from Spain Spanish or others. There were plenty of grammar rules that differentiated Boricuas Spanish, but it wasn’t impossible to understand in other Latin countries.

Alec did regain hold of him, dragging him to Jace and Clary, asking, “how did it find us?”

Let’s be real. Clary was one of the brightest redheads Eljah had ever seen… and he’s been alive for two centuries! How could you miss her?

The “cops” exiting their vehicle nearby most likely spotted her that way. Maybe she should invest in hair dye, Eljah thought. Maybe I should too. Their eyes were black, but so was their energy, the bigger giveaway to Eljah.

“I don’t know… but she brought friends,” Jace pointed out.

“How can you tell?” Clary hastily asked, looking around her, trying to spot what she was missing.

“It’s like seeing through a glamor. You just gotta pay attention to the details.”

“But I can’t see anything!” Clary seeped pure stress.

“Behind us,” Izzy called out, to no avail for Clary.

“Okay, there is too many people,” the redhead expressed, sticking close to Jace.

“I don’t say this often, but I agree with Clary,” Alec muttered. “We gotta get out of here.”

“Hey, this way!” Taking the group down a brutally long set of stairs and making for a back door to a connected building, Clary asked, “what’s the unlock rune again?”

Jace responded by kicking in the door. “Open sesame,” he said with a smirk. Gaining entrance to the building, the crew ran through, but dropped a member on the way.

“What are you doing?” Eljah huffed, irritation catching up to him.

“Holding them off,” Alec said, too casual for Eljah’s liking. “Take Clary back to the Institute.

“No, if you’re staying, I’m staying. We fight together,” Jace argued, upset at the possible parting with his Parabatai. It had happened too often lately, and despite never having had a Parabatai himself, Eljah knew it was rough.

“Don’t be stupid. If the demons get the cup, we’re dead anyway,” Alec finished, not wanting to argue anymore.

“I’m not leaving anyone behind!”

“You don’t have a choice!” Elijah felt alarmed and uncomfortable with confrontation and anger.

Clary made Eljah slightly upset when she said, “I know you guys are having a moment, okay? But we really have to go.”

“Don’t worry. It’s not like this is the first time Alec has saved your life. I doubt it’d be the last,” Isabelle added.

“Go,” Alec ordered. Eljah stepped back rather slowly, unsure of what to do. Alec sighed, readying his bow and telling Eljah, “go back to the Institute. No detours,” before raising an arrow to the entrance.

Who was he to deny orders from the Alec Lightwood?

(He wanted to…)

(Previous Chapter) (Next Chapter)

“You are more than welcome to sit beside me if you want, little one.”

“I’m not little, bichote big shot.” They’d just walked through the door, and Eljah was focusing on what the bar had to offer.

“Standing next to me you are… I’m now realizing I never caught your name. I’m Magnus Bane.”

“Magnus Bane?… shit.”

“You’ve heard of me?” He wanted to say how could I not? You’re essentially my best friend’s adoptive father and I find you attractive, but that was over sharing.

“Through a friend.”

“I might just know this friend. Care to share?” The much younger warlock cracked each of his fingers one by one and turned his rings habitually.

“Raphael.”

“Raphael?” he repeated in surprise. “Wow, small world. I didn’t know he had many out-of-town friends.”

“I would’ve come with him, but he had business to attend to, wouldn’t tell me what.”

“Your name?”

“Buy me a drink and I’ll tell you.”

—

After introducing himself over a couple shots of whiskey, Eljah’s head was spinning to the point he had to let it flop back to stabilize the vibrating under his skin. He was sitting on a couch near the bar and he had sunk into it upon contact. His hearing was intact but his focus was not, weaving between the fellow warlock, the music, and the people dancing on the floor.

It was clear Magnus intended to learn more about Eljah. But Eljah didn’t want to be rude. This was the high warlock of Brooklyn. Eljah hadn’t traveled all the way here to upset anyone.

“I’m not much of a conversationalist.”

“No worries. I’m sure we have enough history combined to entertain ourselves. I have plenty of time before my meeting.”

“You’re meeting someone? In a club?”

Magnus chuckled after placing his drink on the silver table in front of him. “Some Shadowhunters is all.” He didn’t notice the immediate discomfort of his new friend, so he continued, “they’re offering a necklace that has been precious to me for centuries for my services.”

“Shadowhunters?” Eljah’s arms stretched to meet the corner of the couch and he turned to survey the club for said shadowhunters. Magnus’ eyebrows drew together as he observed Eljah.

“Not friendly with them, either?” Magnus asked curiously.

“What?”

“I asked if you were friendly with them or not. Is that why you’re so worried now?”

“Uh, no no. But I try my best to steer clear, you know? I should probably buy a bottle and head back.”

“Where are you heading back to? I can portal you if you’d like.” Magnus emphasized if you’d like with a lift of his hand to remove sparkles and various sequins that had fallen in Eljah’s hair. Eljah felt back for flinching momentarily when the older warlock moved, but it didn’t phase him.

“I prefer walking, honestly. And I don’t like to share where I’m going. I’m sure you understand.”

“Of course. But I can’t have a young warlock in danger now, can I?” The man pulled a mirror out of thin air to check his eyeliner and Eljah took his moment to watch him. When he was going to object again, Magnus’ name was called. The two turned to the noise made by a blonde shadowhunter quickly approaching alongside a redhead. Magnus’ face dropped, all semblance of fun gone.

Magnus acknowledged the strawberry woman as Clary Fairchild and expressed that she’d grown into a beautiful young woman. She seemed less than impressed.

“Magnus Bane. So, you’re the one who stole my memories.” Eljah inaudibly gasped and awkwardly looked around, attempting to step back. He began to, but his senses activated and his body locked up.

His eyes blurred and he could see the other two who’d branched off from the group re-grip their weapons, clearly ready to cause trouble for Eljah.

“At your mother’s request. She knew the risk.” Magnus and Clary looked each other up and down, shared feelings of annoyance on display. “Show me the jewelry, shadowhunter. You’ve interrupted me and my new acquaintance for long enough.”

A gorgeous necklace unraveled from the blonde shadowhunter’s hand. To any mundane, it looked like a massive ruby, but for those aware of what lurked in the shadows, it was more than that. Magnus was being teased by the blonde, who pulled the necklace back before he could grab it.

“Give Clary back her memories, and you get the jewelry.”

Magnus was not new to this process, however. “I have to confirm its authenticity.” He wiggled his fingers to beckon the shadowhunter to pass it over, which happened begrudgingly.

“Amor verus numquam moritur. True love cannot die. Oh, how I’ve missed this jewel,” Magnus sighed.

“Now it’s your turn to pay up,” Clary ordered.

Magnus’ next words shocked more than just the shadowhunters. “I wish I could retrieve your memories, but I no longer have them..”

“What? Where are they!?”

“I fed them a memory demon for safekeeping.” The lack of context made Eljah’s head swirl, and he sat down on the nearest cushion while the arguing grew.

“And why the hell would you do that?” The blonde angrily asked.

“To protect Clary and the cup. If Valentine ever captured me, he could torture Clary’s memories out of me. Just like he tortured Dot.”

Raphael had told Eljah briefly about what he knew of Valentine—which wasn’t much, other than he wanted all downworlders dead. Essentially, the white supremacist of the shadow world. His vampire friend warned him to take safer, more open routes anywhere he went unless he wanted to end up dead or experimented on.

“Tortured? Wait, is Dot okay?”

“You don’t know?” there was a strong beat of slimy silence, “Dot is dead.” Clary whispered, “what?” in response, her face paler underneath her makeup now. She kept shaking her head in disbelief, “how do you know?”

“I can’t feel her magic anymore,” Magnus visibly deflated. “Valentine killed her because she would not betray your mother.”

“Oh, my God.”

“Come with me, Clary,” the high warlock offered, “my lair can offer you protection no shadowhunter ever could.” The sneer in his voice was strong at the mention of angelic beings. Said beings only scoffed and Clary followed with quick rejection.

“No, I’m not going anywhere with you.” Eljah was considering leaving again as the bass of a new song boosted and the drink he’d sipped earlier was making him sweat—downworld drinks hit differently… alongside the weed in his system. He was certainly waking up at the mention of important topics, but he needed to stay seated longer.

“Don’t be a fool. Your mother would want you to live.”

“Then help me get my memories back from whatever demon you gave them to.”

“Valentine is hunting you, too,” Magnus sounded venomous now, “and every moment we’re outside my lair’s protection, is a moment Valentine gets closer to finding us.”

Magnus clapped his hands together, releasing his magic to create a purple, bubbling portal. Not forgetting about his new friend, he turned to him.

“The offer extends to you as well. Are you well enough to get back home?” Eljah didn’t speak, nodding curtly to signal he would leave on his own. Clary and her protector looked at each other as she considered the same, but the blonde shook his head.

“I won’t offer again.” Magnus rolled his eyes and waited in annoyance.

Clary’s response was bold to Eljah, and far too earnest and emotional. She claimed she wouldn’t hide from her problems, and neither should Magnus, which made Eljah annoyed too. How shadowhunter of her to respond that way. He understood the need to get things done, but the shadowhunters weren’t the ones being hunted. How could she possibly digest if hiding or not hiding was appropriate? Downworlders didn’t have the same privileges.

Distracted in his thoughts, he didn’t notice any danger looking nearby.

“Look out!” Within seconds, an arrow shot through the club and hit someone. Eljah shot up in fear, auto-gripping his stele from his pocket, but tried to remain stoic as he approached the now deceased shadowhunter.

An incredibly tall, brunette shadowhunter who shot the arrow rushed through and kneeled beside Eljah, checking his pulse. He didn’t hear Magnus whisper, “who are you?”. Eye contact with their savior distracted Eljah.

“Are you okay?” The brunette whispered quickly. Eljah nodded again, standing to make space for the others.

Clary yelled out for Magnus as he attempted to leave. “You’re my only hope.”

“Valentine found us. I warned your mother this might happen.” He disintegrated into the portal and Clary stood with a clenched fist containing a button from his shirt.

A beautiful female shadowhunters followed the path of the previous, telling them, “the area’s secure. Looks like he was the only assassin.” Eljah turned away from the group and lifted his left sleeve to access his Iratze rune, ridding him of his high so he could leave safely. He assumed no one saw.

“He has a circle rune on the base of his neck,” the attractive male brunette added.

“They found us. It’s not safe here. Clary, we have to go!” The blonde’s words fell on deaf ears as Clary stood still in shock. Eljah wanted to approach, ask if she was okay, but he couldn’t move. The once boisterous club felt stuffy now.

Eljah was walking backward to leave, aggressively bumping into someone.

“It’s not safe for you either, even if you’re from a different institute. No shadowhunter is safe,” the tall man spoke in monotone, “there is space in the New York Institute and we may need the help.”

“I’ll be just fine on my own, but thank you. Just take care of your redhead and good luck.”

“No, he’s right,” the blonde stopped Eljah, “it’s not safe. Come back to the institute.”

“Are you gonna knife me if I don’t?”

“No, but who’s to say one of Valentine’s men won’t do the job as soon as you leave?”

Eljah sighed. Magnus’ lair now sounded nicer now than it did before.