Chapter 9: Mundane magic
'We'll be right there,' Alec spoke quickly, removing his phone from his ear and brutally pressing a button on the screen.
'What's going on?' Magnus enquired lazily. Alec responded with silence as he strode into their bedroom to pack a bag. One eyebrow raised, Magnus rose from the plush sofa and reluctantly followed his husband, leaning on the cool metal of the doorway decorated with gold flecks. Some of these flecks rubbed off onto Magnus' skin, distracting him for a moment. Realising Alec was hurriedly packing, Magnus stood up straight and spoke again.
'Alexander?' he said louder this time, with more urgency.
'I don't know, ok?' Alec answered tensely, throwing another black t-shirt towards the suitcase, but missing because of the unnecessary force in his throw added by his unprovoked anger. With a wave of his hand, Magnus gently folded and placed the shirt in the case, using his magic without thinking. With Alec now perched on the bed, staring at the floor, Magnus knelt on the wooden floor in front of him and rested his hands on Alec's knees.
'It's New York again,' Alec said sheepishly, then continued after a heavy sigh, 'a mundane attacked the institute,' he spat out finally.
'A mundane?' Magnus asked, amusement curling up the corners of his mouth.
'Yeah, but with powers,' Alec said with lighthearted sarcasm, masking his words with disbelief.
'What kind of powers? Downworlder powers?' Magnus asked, concerned.
'Warlock,' Alec admitted, avoiding Magnus' eyes.
'Well then, let's go,' Magnus said with a flourish, finishing the packing and preparing a portal with a sudden urgency.
Clary woke up in a dreamlike state the next morning. After the amazing first date with Jace, she could hardly sleep. Curled up in her blanket like a caterpillar in a cocoon she had gazed at the ceiling with a distant smile curling her lips. When she woke up after a pleasant sleep, she had stretched her arms in a circle, like a butterfly spreading its wings. Even though she hated to admit it, ever since Jace had come into her life she felt complete. Before she knew him, there was a hole in her life that only he seemed able to fill. And yet, their meeting felt more like a greater plan than mere coincidence. As Clary floated around her dorm room, lost in her head and the memories of last night, she spotted a stranger on the lawn outside the kitchen window. Thinking nothing of it, Clary went about her day and took to painting in the makeshift studio erected in the dorms.
Feeling a lot like her mother, paint flecked overalls and all, Clary swiped at the canvas over and over. She was working on her latest idea, the painting involving the holes in her memory. The design was simple, using the blank space instead of filling it. This felt unnatural to Clary, but that felt right for the concept somehow as she reflected on how the holes in her memory felt unnatural as well. Earphones blaring her favourite song, Clary didn't notice the door creep open to expose a curious face peering around the door standing ajar. A long coat tail swung around the door as the figure stared at Clary consideringly.
Clary realised she was being watched with a start. But it was too late. The intruder had a firm grip around her head and torso, with a grip like iron. Their arms were blackened with the heavy they were wearing, accompanying the leather gloves that now kept Clary in their grips. Despite her fierce kicking, the intruder did not ease their grip, dragging her hurriedly out of the room. Clary was vaguely aware of loosing her shoes in the battle, seeing them discarded haphazardly in amongst the easels scattered around the studio. Clary started to feel the back of her heels peeling despite her persistent kicking, but soon her vision started to blur and then move to black as the drug the intruder held over her mouth started to take effect.