The Mortal Instruments

Masque considered the shadowhunters words. He wasn't sure himself how he felt about the work. On the one hand, it was beautiful, and provoked intense emotions. As art should. But... on the other hand... it was gruesome and... and three people had died for it. Was it worth the cost? He wasn't sure. Every day was like this, half racked by guilt and half racked by pride. Masque went along with only the slightest struggle and stood, ashamed, in the room. At least he head his mask. The walls were white. White was so boring. It disgusted Masque, he needed to colour the walls. But he had nothing to colour them with, and he assumed they wouldn't give him anything. Masque closed his eyes to block out the empty canvas. No. Not here. Red would be a nice colour.

Nick followed Alarick unquestioningly and stood passively as Alarick contacted his contact. He folded his arms, then thought that looked a bit too hostile, and let his arms fall to his sides. He didn't really know what to do with them now. Arms were annoying.

 

Rhett remarked on his wounds, he nodded "Yeah, four of them, not too long after I left you...None of them walked though, I made sure of that." The older Nephilim said "And yes I did leave quite quickly, didn't I. There was nothing there for me to do. And if it's on me he'll be put in the ground." Hendrick said "But I am intruding on a personal moment, so I'll take my leave, take care of yourself, wolf." The shadowhunter left them, as the looming threat wasn't a threat at all, but rather a friend and entered the Institute again, walking down the hallway, his injuries still bugging him and he wanted to rest. He took the elevator to the garden, Brianne hadn't exactly forbidden his actions of having moved his quarters to the garden, so it now was his place.

Arriving at the garden he flipped the switched turning the elevator off, preventing it's use and then went down the two fire escapes, barring one of them with a wooden beam and locking the other with a locking rune. Brianne had requested it to be that way which would still aloow him his privacy but if needed she could still easily reach him for advice as he was practicly the second in command. He went back up and went to find his bed, making a quick round through the garden, watering where necessary. He probably should have put his weapons in the weapons room, but he wasn't going back down now, instead putting his weapons down on a piece of cloth that lay on the edge of one of the planters. He then got himself into bed. And looked up at the skies overhead. He loved the view and there was something about sleeping among the plants that nothing could compare to. It must have been late in the afternoon or early evening as the skies were slowly darkening, he closed his eyes and peacefully drifted off to sleep amongst the fruits of his labour.

 

​

Yorick, previously known only as "Old Man", clasped his hands in front of him, customary cane gone. Gone along with it was the pretense of the tired old man, one who could barely keep up with the events around him. No, he was more, much more. Alarick had known all along, but it was time to show the Shadowhunters of New York the real reason they were needed, the real reason they had to remain while the other Institutes closed and the Shadowhunters returned to Alicante.

"Is he unharmed?" Yorick asked, eyes narrowing when Alarick hesitated to answer. "Mostly." came the response. Yorick sighed. "This is what you get for working with Downworlders, young one. You are so wise, and yet have so much to learn. They can be trusted only as long as they have use." Yorick turned away from the mirror in which Alarick faced him. "Are you alone?" He finally asked. Brianne was supposed to have joined her brother. The soft hearted girl needed to be convinced to let go of her tenderness towards the lower species of their world.

"She's dealing with a matter as Head of the Institute. She sends her apologies, and Nicholas Nightwine in her stead." Ah, perhaps for the better then. If her own Shadowhunters were turned against her, then Brianne would have a hard time rejecting the change that was upon them.

"Very well." Yorick gave none of this thoughts away. "Then I will issue the orders formally to you, Alarick, and allow you to pass them on to her at your lesiure, however. They are to be followed with as little delay as necessary." He cleared his throat, drawing himself up. "We require the presence of any and all Downworlders that have fraternized with the Shadow hunters of New York. This includes Ash the warlock and Rhett the werewolf, both of whom Brianne has been seen with. We also require the vampires Valister and Jennifer Shag, Clarity the ifrit, Creed Hollowblood, and of course, the warlock Masque."

"They will be staying with us indefinitely, in order to help us find the Mortal Cup, and bring us one step closer to our goal; finding the Angel's Mirror." Yorick's eyes gleamed in a nearly fanatical way, but he kept his face expressionless. "Failure of any one of the Shadowhunters to produce these people will be considered treason of the highest, and the Inquisitor will be authorized to terminate them in any way he sees fit."

​

Clarity glanced at the man who had appeared at her residence, before yanking out her phone. "I don't like this. And I don't like you." She warned, her voice heavily accented. Despite her travels all over the world, she had never seemed to be able to leave the language of her birthplace behind, and with it, the tint that it lent to her vocals. "But if what I've heard is true then.." She sighed, sliding her thumb across the screen to unlock it before typing out a quick message, and pressing send. "Why come to me?" She slipped the phone back into her pocket, turning it on silent. It didn't matter if she received a reply, or none at all. It didn't change what she was going to do, or the plans of the person in front of her.

"I've no desire to become entangled in the wars of Shadowhunters and Downworlders. Neither are concerning to me. My only concern is finding my father." She folded her arms across her chest, her light blue eyes glowing as they examined the man, Shadowhunter, in front of her. "So, why come to me? How did you even know of me?" She asked, her eyes narrowed in suspicion.

​

Alarick's gaze flicked upwards. Yorick could assume that he was looking at Nick, gauging the younger Shadowhunter's reaction to his words, when in actuality, despite that being what Alarick wanted to do, he was looking at Sien, and hoping the warlock understood that it was very important to keep his mouth shut. By the grace of the Angel, his friend had somehow managed to escape the notice of the Clave. Despite his loyalty, Alarick had no desire to drag Sien off to Alicante, never to be seen again.

"To be clear, Master Yorick." Alarick turned his warning gaze on Nick, hoping that the intuition he had seen in the younger man wasn't just a lie, and that he could sense what Alarick was unable to say; keep Sien's existence a secret.

"You're going to keep the Downworlders named, all of which are our allies, in Alicante?" Indefinitely. Yorick nodded, his face smug. Alarick wanted to punch him. It had been hard enough to let Brianne give him her old friend, the werewolf girl. Alarick still saw the horror on her face every time he closed his eyes. Brianne still didn't know, still asked him about her. How could he do that to her again?

"Why does the Angel's Mirror require their sacrifice?" Alarick felt his voice turn to steel. He didn't know what to do. His loyatly to his sister and his loyalty to the Clave were tearing him apart. Giving up these people would keep Brianne safe, but their blood would forever more stain his hands.

"Their deaths will be the difference between us receiving the Angel's blessing, and Raziel granting our wish, and failure." Yorick's voice hadn't lost any confidence, but it had gained wariness. "We will become holy warriors once more, with their sacrifice." Yorick continued, as though trying to convince Alarick once more of his side.

Alarick frowned. "We need a moment." He waved his fingers over the mirror before dropping it to the table, and staring at the three in the room; Masque, Sien, and Nick. What do I do?

​

Brianne laughed, though inside she winced as each movement clearly pained the werewolf. "That is what people normally do. I have a special voicemail set up just for rescue thank you notes." She turned as Hendrick appeared, speaking to Rhett. She had almost completely forgotten that Ash had sent Rhett along to help her companion, and gently played with one of the flower petals, listening with an intent stare on the ground.

"Masque will get a fair trial." she responded, shifting before laying the flowers on the ground next to her. "I can't promise what his fate will or will not be." What was it that they immediately jumped to murder? No matter the circumstance, Brianne felt uncomfortable with execution. There was honor in dying in battle, with the ground under your feet. To go to the afterlife on your knees, powerless....She shivered. Her spirit would never be able to rest with such a death.

After Hendrick disappeared, presumably to sleep, Brianne looked up at the barely darkened sky, reminding her that it was later then anticipated. She lazily traced the air with her stele, replacing the barrier rune before sighing. "I haven't eaten yet, and I'm starving. You're welcome to come with, or the barrier rune will let you out. Won't let anyone in, but everyone can go." She said with a small smile. "But my stomach demands sustenance, or I'll probably try to snack on one of those flowers."

Not forgetting to grab the bouquet, she stepped up, before extending a hand to help Rhett up.

 

"Never asked you to like me." the Nephilim said "But thanks for helping." A small smile crept up on his face, he had been in the city for a few days and kept his ears open in the shadow world, he had heard of a few people with ties to the Nephilim and this was the first person approached, it was a gamble, but that was this entire thing to begin with. "And hey if you don't want to do it for me, then just do it for the cash I'm giving you." He was paying a hefty sum for this help, nothing he couldn't miss, but it was still quite the sum for how little he was asking.

"I have been keeping my ears open, heard you had ties to the local Nephilim, figured I'd give it a shot, nothing else, no special reason to come to you. Unless there is something I don't know." The Nephilim said, he had to find Cyrus again, despite being seperated for only a year and a half it was time to find his parabatai again. "So now I take it that we wait?" Aethelrick asked the Ifrit in front of him. Within the Institute Hendrick's phone vibrated, but the Nephilim was trying to sleep and anything else could wait at this moment.

 

The Inquisitor navigated the streets of New York, using the humans' rather helpful smartphone to find his way through the city. For all their magic, human technology could do things that they were quite limited in, in certain regards. And in many ways, mundanes were limited as well due to their lack of magic, or of runes. That was for the best, however. It was doubtful that they could handle the truth of the world. The many wars that plagued humanity spoke wonders to their responsibility - They couldn't be trusted with their technology, let alone the higher mysteries of the world. He set a brisk pace as he examined the area surrounding the Institute, getting a good sense of the routes around it. After that, he decided that it was time to make his entrance. His plans had changed from what he had thought of in the hotel, but it might be more appropriate to introduce himself. After all, there was more to his mission than the hunt for Cyrus' Parabatai. He had to locate certain Downworlders and bring them into the fold, as well as ensure the co-operation of his fellow Nephilim. He reminded himself that they were not the enemy here. They were Shadow Hunters, as he was, and as such they were his best allies. To direct his eternal suspicions towards them without cause would be to cut himself off from the best allies available to him.

Corvo Eismauer entered the Institute. The first point of call would be to meet with Brianne Lightwood, the head of this institute, but that would come in time. The walk to the Institute from his hotel had worked up a hunger in him, and his throat was parched. He needed to find something to eat and drink. The Inquisitor set himself upon the task to find the kitchen, though he wasn't quite sure where that was yet. ​

 

​

Despite not truly knowing what was going on, even if Alarick hadn't looked over to him Sien would've remained quiet. This certainly didn't sound like anything that he should be hearing and the fact that he was meant that there could've been some form of punishment if he was found. Which is why it certainly was a good thing that he'd hadn't been noticed.

Elsewhere in the streets of New York. Creed walked down said streets with his pockets as well as his hood up. Such an appearance would normally warrant some stray glances and other such attention, but fortunately for Creed, it actually did the opposite. Well cept for when he was in buildings, in those cases he simply just had to put his hood down and all that unneeded attention was put away before it could get out of hand. As for what he was up to now, he was currently on his way back to his makeshift home. There wasn't much waiting for him there except a place to sleep and some food. Only the essential that he needed to survive.

 

​

Clarity lifted her hair over her shoulder, letting it fall down her back before turning her back on Aethelrick. "There is always something you don't know. You're just lucky that what you don't know now isn't going to kill you." She strolled into her tiny kitchen, grabbing a cup from the sink and inspecting it for dirt or left over food. She had been in the habit recently of eating ramen in glasses instead of bowls, to save on dish washing later. In reality it didn't make much difference, but to Clarity the difference between washing a bowl and washing a cup was clear.

"And I don't do favours for strange Nephilim with no street credit." Leaving the cup to its fate in the sink, she turned towards the mini fridge, letting the frigid air wash over her as she grabbed the bottle of juice and drank straight from the plastic container. She was the only one living here after all.
"I'll have to go out in a bit, but you're welcome to stay here. As long as you don't answer the door. Or the phone. Or look out the windows. Actually, maybe don't move at all."

She set the juice back in the fridge, tapping the counter with her nails as she thought. "Actually, you're coming with me. I don't know what my lingerie sells for, but I imagine it's a hefty price. And since you didn't pay me enough to break in to the Institute, yes. We'll give Hendrick an hour, no more and no less. Gives us time to chat." She stepped back to the kitchen table, a small round thing with only two chairs, and pulled one around, straddling it as her chest leaned against the front. "So tell me. Aethelrick, just how is it that you came to know dear old Hendrick as Cyrus?"

​

Brianne grimaced at the thought of eating werewolf, but flashed a grin in Rhett's direction as he followed her inside. "You know, if you're going to keep making contemporary culture references, I'm going to have to question our friendship." She didn't allow herself to dwell on the fact that it was a barely forged relationship, but instead chose to be grateful for the small moment of happiness, however fleeting.

And fleeting it was. The barrier rune was dispelled, the chimes twinkling in Brianne's mind. But Alarick was already back with Nick, Hendrick upstairs, and Roxanne was hiding somewhere. That meant....cursing by every Angel's name she knew, (and she knew quite a lot), Brianne grabbed Rhett's arm and yanked him away. She could hear footsteps now, an unfamiliar tread, and it forced the hair on the back of her neck to rise. The Shadowhunter turned, but the footsteps cut them off from the entrance. She instead tugged the werewolf back, through the outer door as she yanked her stele out and quickly cast a Rune for silence. Rhett's footsteps would still be loud, but she would just have to hope his werewolf instincts kept him hidden as her magic did for her.

Pulling him up the backstaircase that would eventually lead to the rooftop garden, she practically dragged him across the hall, and to the room that Valister yet awaited her in. Slashing her thumb on the stele, (she didn't have time for subtlety), she pressed her bleeding finger against the nearly invisible barrier, knocking it down.
"Rhett, Valister. Valister, Rhett. I know werewolves and vampires hate each other but right now you have to get the f*ck out of here." She whispered urgently, her hand trembling as she let go of Rhett's. A year ago? She would have never let either of them in here. She had gotten too complacent, too arrogant with her position, thinking no one would come and go without her knowing.

"Sorry." She added before dashing back out of the room, taking a moment to catch her breath before descending the stairs and going off in search of the stranger's footsteps. Only a Nephilim would have been able to dispel the barrier around the Institute, and only a Shadowhunter would navigate the Institute with such knowledge. She could only pray to the Angel Rhett and Valister took her advice and left. Her brother? She would never have cared about his reaction. But with the Shadowhunters being called back to Alicante, this was no mere soldier. This was someone important.

In her haste, she forgot to dispel the Rune of Silence as she searched for the intruder.

 

Aethelrick merely smiled. "With the current situation it's more likely that demons will kill us all, with the Clave as it is and chaos reigning in the aftermath of that event.... However I am prepared to take a gamble." He simply stated as he watched Clarity go to the kitchen, it wasn't a big appartment, but he didn't expect anything magnificent in such a large mundie city. Nor for it to be in the possesion of an Ifrit. "The reason I don't have street cred here is because I only arrived here recently." But hey even without street cred you could still get things done it was just more expensive.

He sat down on the other chair by the kitchen table. "I could ask you how you got to know Cyrus under such a ridiculous name. But it's rude to answer a question with a question. For starters we grew up in Idris, we have been parabatai for years. Well up until an incident a year and a half ago that is, Clave wasn't too pleased with a decision Cyrus had made and took us apart. He got sent here, I got sent to Kazachstan for a mission. He was banned from Idris, I wasn't. I have known the man as Cyrus for as long as I have known him, it's his name. That's why, now why do you know him as Hendrick?" Aethelrick explained to the Ifrit, he'd let the remarks about him stealing her underwear when she wasn't around did she honestly think that little of him, sure he had been a bit creepy in tracking her down and contacting her, but he wasn't that bad now was he?

 

Nick's eyes widened as he watched what happened, he fought the urge to punch that old man in the face. He couldn't just sacrifice people's lives! There was no reward worth a life, no matter if it was a downworlder's, or a nephilim's. "I hope you're not going to go through with this" Nick said, crossing his arms and glaring at Alarick "There's no excuse for killing"

No excuse for killing. Of course. Masque lowered his head in shame and sank to his knees. He had once thought that lives were worth so little whereas the art he created with them was worth so much more. But now doubts filled his mind and several conflicting ideologies clashed.

 

​

"Our leader has commanded it. And it is for the betterment of our people." Despite speaking the words he had been told, Alarick didn't find himself completely convinced. He wouldn't call himself friends with Sien, or Clarity, or any of the others, but they were more then just allies. There had been that one time when he had pulled Clarity from the jaws of a demon, and another when she had nearly lit her apartment on fire trying to keep him from being bitten by a rabid vampire.

Sien had never failed to be at his side and watching his back, though the mutual trust ended when either side received their end of the bargain. Still, it was a relationship that had been cultivated through countless battles, blood and sweat, and it was not something he wanted to lightly throw aside. Then there was Brianne. She would never forgive him, but if she didn't do this, if they became hunted by their own kind...He would not let his baby sister fall prey to the same torture he had seen inflicted on others.

"I have to protect Brianne, Nick. Do you understand what they will do to us if we don't obey? What they'll do the our friends in front of us if we don't agree?" His face was emotionless, his voice barely controlled, but a tempest of emotion raged inside. Someone was going to lose, coming out of this. But which was the bigger price to pay?

 

Nick glared. His stare was full of judgement "Well that's why we have to fight back, isn't it? I haven't know you very long, but I at least expected you not to give up in the face of this... this... evil" Nick stated, waving an arm derisively at the mirror. His expression took on a pleading look "You know Brianne wouldn't want this. Do you want to fight her? Because at the moment, you're heading down the path to fighting her. Besides, what makes Brianne's life any more valuable than all the others combined? For the angel's sake, what makes her life worth more than just one of the others?" Nick questioned, then sighed "We shouldn't be fighting each other. We need to be fighting them. That's the only way we can keep our friends safe, don't you see?"

 

The presence of the Barrier Rune at the Institute's door was not unprecedented, but it was certainly unusual. As he wandered, he reflected upon this and concluded that they must be facing trouble with certain Downworlders. Indeed, certain amongst them had been identified to him, so it was worth considering the possibility that some of these people had been interfering with the business of the Shadow Hunters. A daunting prospect. When in the kitchen, he saw that it was a well equipped facility, but also that there was a Rune of Silence cast. He frowned and examined this curiously. For what reason is a Rune of Silence placed in the kitchen? It wouldn't be to dampen the noise of the oven alarm or the microwave would it? He did also pick up some footsteps, an unusual gait, but it was possible that someone was injured. If his hypothesis about the Downworlder problems was correct, then that would suffice for an explanation. The nagging suspicion in his mind called for another explanation, that these people had something to hide and the Cancellation of the Barrier Rune would not have gone unnoticed by its caster. That seemed more likely, considering that he, the Inquisitor, was deployed. Though he hadn't been expressly informed, he could only presume that a certain amount of suspicion fell on to these people.

As he thought, Corvo poured himself a pint of water and downed it swiftly, pleased for the drink even if it was just tap water. Before anything else, he should probably locate Brianne. It would not serve him well to seem presumptuous. He walked out of the kitchen after finishing his water and set about looking for the master of this institute. As it turned out, he did not have to go far, as she was coming towards the kitchen. Presumably, she had detected his presence from the Barrier Rune and his footsteps. He gave a formal nod in greeting.
"Greetings, Brianne Lightwood, esteemed leader of the New York Institute." He offered a hand for her to shake. "I am Inquisitor Corvo Eismauer, the Clave sent me here to oversee the operation of the last open institute. It is a pleasure to be working with one of such good repute as yourself. The Lightwood family is known for its loyalty and reliability, so I am honoured to be here." It pays to be polite, after all, I need to befriend these people to ensure that they are wiling to work with me. Remember, the Clave deployed you for a reason Corvo. Even Lightwood cannot be beyond suspicion. If it were a simple matter, they would not have sent me.
"Has the Institute faced difficulties recently? I can only presume so, given the presence of the Barrier Rune at the front door. My apologies for compromising security if so, because I was forced to break it. You may wish to write in an exception for fellow Nephilim in future." He suggested. ​

 

​

Clary didn't move, keeping her arms wrapped around back of the chair, but the hair on the back of her neck rose. A parabati? She lowered her gaze, staring at the tops of her forearms. This is more then I bargained for. The legendary relationship, exclusive only to the Angel kin, was not something broken over trivial means. "I know him as Hendrick because that is what he wished to be known as." She stood up, the chair flying out from under her. Before it hit the floor, she caught it, spun it, and shoved it hard enough against the table that the wood rattled.

"I've changed my mind. We leave now." Her tone of voice brooked no argument as she grabbed her katana from its resting place along the wall, before taking the two knife sheaths. Lifting up her shirt, she exposed her midriff briefly as she used the band to strap the knife to her stomach before shoving the other in her boot. It mattered little that Aethelrick saw her do this, she had three more in other hiding places that she could use against him if need be. "I hope you've brushed up on your pack manners." She tossed at him as she dropped her shirt, curled her fingers around the keys, and jerked her head at Aethelrick. Once they were both out, she locked the door behind her before heading out the fire escape. Climbing nimbly over the railing, she dropped to the ground. "You are going to owe me a lot more money." She hissed, glancing one way before the other down the alleyway.

"Felicia, you better be ready, wolf girl. I'm calling in that favor."
Her stride was paused by the buzzing of her phone. Alarick. She unlocked the phone with a swipe of her finger, and then stared. And stared some more. Her hand shook a little as she forwarded the message on. If I'm wanted, I have no doubt you're on the list too. I'll meet you there. She added, pressing send and sliding her phone into her jean pocket. This day couldn't get any worse.

​

Alarick lowered his eyes, masking his emotions as he stared at the floor. His arms almost involuntarily crossed over his chest, fingers tapping against his arm as Nick's words floated through his mind, repeating themselves. What made Brianne more important then all of them combined? She was his sister, and more then that, his twin. They had shared a womb, a birth, a life. Before Brianne accepted the position at the Institute, they had always been together. Sometimes he was almost convinced they were two different halves of a soul; he calculating, pragmatic, and cold, while she was reckless, emotional, and as fiery as a warlock's wrath.

He raised his eyes to look at Sien, then Max, kneeling on the floor, and finally Nick. For all that he hadn't known Nick for very long, as the other Shadowhunter had stated, he was right. Brianne would never hand over the Downworlders. She would never yield to Yorick's vision, and she would fight to the death before she let any of her friends fall into that fate. "You're right." His voice was gravelly and rough; he cleared it before dropping his arms.

"You're right, Nick." He used his stele to quickly disband the rune on the door. "I'll deal with Yorick. Tell him you stormed off, that I'm going to talk you into it. That'll buy us hours, maybe. Get Hendrick, and Roxanne if you can. Tell them what's going on." He unlocked his phone with the other hand, quickly typing out a message and pressing send. "Max, you're going to stay in here with me, for now. For your own safety. Sien, you go with Nick. If you find Hendrick or Roxanne, hide with one of them. Better yet, get everyone gathered into one place." He looked at them, all of them. "If we're going to rebel against the Clave, I'd at least like us to have a minimal chance of surviving." Another message sent, he started on a last one. "I sent you a text. Roxanne and Hendrick too. It contains the address of a building. A safe house I have. We'll meet there. And Nick?" He paused, looking at the mirror. In a few seconds, he was going to have to pass off the hardest lie of his life. "Thank you." He glanced at the younger Shadowhunter with a small smile.

Alarick's Texts

You are going to be hunted by the Clave. There is a safe house at this address.
445 Silver Avenue N
New York, New York

We meet there. Trust no one.


​

"Things wouldn't have turned out any differently." Morrigan leaned against the wall as she braided her hair, gently appraising the warlock's actions. "Fate has a funny way of course correcting itself." She looped the hair tie around the still damp ends of her black locks, a few strands falling loose to frame her face as dark eyes lingered on Ash. "And you're not foolish enough to believe the Queen hasn't already sent out people to find us, watch us." The thought forced goosebumps to rise along her skin, but she ignored them as she looked down at her clothing.

It was makeshift, a long sleeved shirt she had dusted off from one of the drawers in the back, and some sort of tight fitting pants. They held no pockets, and clung to her form, leaving little to the imagination. The shirt dipped past her collarbone, the fringe on the bottom dropping to her thighs. The pants themselves hugged her waist, following her slender legs down to her ankles. She still wore no shoes.

Despite the material offering very little in the way of protection, it allowed fluidity of movement, and she was far better at avoiding attacks then taking the brunt. She tied the cloth belt attached to her sword around her waist, before tossing her braid over her shoulder. "You do not have to come with me." She said suddenly, her eyelashes sweeping low to cover the irises that burned with such strange emotion. "The Seelie Queen is well known for finding weaknesses and using them against her victims. She didn't learn this skill on her own." And as terrifying as her sovereign was, she couldn't imagine what her mother would be like.

No wonder the humans worshiped her as a goddess.

​

Brianne's lips twisted into a poor mockery of a smile as she took Corvo's hand, gently shaking it. "You'll have to forgive me, Inquisitor Eismauer. I've been long away from Alicante, and my memory of the proper manners and form has faded." She pulled her hand back, her face gentling. "I do not mean to be rude, but I mean it when I say we have no reason to expect any welcome company that is not also in the presence of myself or my brother. We have not received reinforcements here for some time, and with the recall of Shadowhunters, well..." She let the sentence drift as she pressed her bleeding thumb surreptitiously to the side of her pants to stop the bleeding.

"May I inquire as to why you are here?" She asked, her tone calm. She was neither afraid of this man, nor his reputation or his position. He was just another figure head, albeit one that was standing in front of her and not on the other side of a mirror. Her thoughts flitted back to Rhett and Valister, whom she hoped were escaping. She could easily explain away their presence, but it would avoid complication if they just remained out of sight until she had figured out what this...Corvo was doing here.

​

 

Aethelrick just observed her reaction, she didn't move. It was a risky move to say that he was Cyrus' parabatai, in the wrong hands that information could wreak havoc on both him, his parabatai and everyone they knew, but he was a dead man walking anyways. He had slipped away from authority to get over here, then followed up with directly ignoring the order to fall back to Idris and was now trying to contact his parabatai that he had been seperated from. With the Cup gone and Downworlders and demons going rampant it was only a matter of time before they all slipped into the cold embrace of death."Somehow I find it hard to believe that Cyrus wants to be known as Hendrick..." Aethelric said.

The sudden change of mind seemed suspicious to him and he decided to stay sharp. He took note of where the weapons were hidden. She then mentioned pack manners, just terrific werewolves, that wasn't at all what he was paying her for. "You do realise I am not paying you to go visit those puppies, right?" Aethelric said as he swapped out the magazine of his P90 for one filled with silver bullets, he knew exactly how to speak to werewolves and fully understood their language. The one language they knew: Force. "As for the cash, say how much I owe you and I'll make it appear." He had enough money, to afford the services of this ifrit, even if she were ripping him off. He followed her out of the appartment, his black cloak concealing the weaponry he carried. All the Ifrit knew was that he carried that P90 and she didn't need to know more. She then stared at her phone for a moment. "Anything I need to know?" Aethel asked the Ifrit

Meanwhile in the Institute Hendrick was still laying in bed as his phone buzzed yet again. Seriously what was it with everyone needing him when he wanted to have his peace and quiet? He still wasn't gonna look at it though, that could all wait until he woke up again, if he could get to sleep with all these damn people texting him all the ****ing time.