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“That’s why I did all this,” Ty said. “I want you with me in any way you can be.”

«C'est pour cette raison que j'ai fait tout ça» dit Ty «Je te veux avec moi de toutes les façons possibles.»

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"Parfois, tu dois protéger les gens de ce qu'ils désirent,autant que de ce qu'ils craignent"

Le coeur de Kit se serra.

Dehors sur la plage, Ty se redressa.Le vent ébouriffait ses cheveux, et il leva ses mains, inconsciemment, comme pour toucher le vent et l'air de la nuit. Son visage brillait comme une étoile. Kit n'avait jamais rencontré quelqu'un d'aussi incapable de mal.

"Je ne laisserais jamais rien arriver à Ty. Vous voyez, je..."

Il se retourna pour dire à Shade, pour lui expliquer comment étaient les choses, comment elles seraient toujours, mais le sorcier avait disparu.

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Isabelle shook her head, then bent down and unclipped a chain from one slender ankle. She held it out to Emma. “This is blessed iron. Poisonous to faeries. Wear it and you can pack a hell of a kick.”

“Thanks.” Emma took the chain and wrapped it twice around her wrist, fastening it tightly.

“Do I have anything iron?" Simon looked around wildly, then reached into his pocket and pulled out a small metal figure of an archer. “This is my D&D character, Lord Montgomery—”

“Oh my God,” said Isabelle.

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“Kier,” Mark said, and he saw Kieran shiver at the use of the old nickname. “Today you stood up and offered all your powers as a prince and faerie to save my family. How can you not know how I feel?”

Kieran was staring at his own hand, where it hovered at the edge of Mark’s shirt collar… Mark’s arms hooked around Kieran’s neck, drawing him down into a kiss.

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“I’m here on my own account,” Magnus said, in a low and distant voice. “I need your help. There is absolutely no one else that I can ask.” “That’s not what I …” Julian pushed sopping-wet hair out of his eyes, his voice trailing off in realization. “You’re remembering someone.”

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Ty touched his hand absently to the locket at his throat. “That was good. You did a really good job, Dru.”

“Yep.You kept your cool,” said Kit. He glanced up and down the street. “I’d suggest we go get milkshakes or something to celebrate but this is kind of a dark alley situation.”

“Shadowhunters don’t worry about dark alleys,” said Dru.

“Have you learned nothing from the death of Batman’s parents?” said Kit, feigning shock.

Ty smiled. And for the first time since Livvy had died, Dru laughed.

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“You hated the Shadow Market in London,” Kit said. “It really bothered you. The noises, and the crowd —“

Ty’s gaze flicked down to Kit. “I’ll wear my headphones. I’ll be all right.”

“…and I don’t know if we should go again so soon,” Kit added. “What if Helen and Aline get suspicious?”

Ty’s gaze darkened. “Julian told me once,” he said, “that when people keep coming up with reasons not do something, it’s because they don’t want to do it. Do you not want to do this?”

Ty’s voice sounded tight. The thrumming wire again, sharp with tension. Under the cotton of his shirt, his too-thin shoulders had tightened as well. The neck of his shirt was loose, the delicate line of his collarbones just visible.

Kit felt a rush of tenderness toward Ty, mixed with near-panic. In other circumstances, he thought, he would just have lied. But he couldn’t lie to Ty.

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"Quite a few Downworlders have managed to escape the Registry, moi included" said Magnus. "Alec threatened to kill me if I even considered putting my name on some sinister list of the Cohort's undesirables".

"There was no actual threatening" said Alec, in case anyone was wondering.


"Beaucoup de Créatures Obscures ont réussi à s'échapper du registre, moi inclus", déclara Magnus. "Alec a menacé de me tuer si je pensais même à mettre mon nom sur une liste sinistre des indésirables de la cohorte".

"Il n'y a eut aucune réelle menace ", dit Alec, au cas où quelqu'un se le demandait.

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"On peut aussi bien parler, Mark," lança Kieran. Une lune claire s'était levée; elle illuminait l'océan, le transformant en draps de verre noirs et argentés, la couleur des yeux de Kieran. Le désert nocturne était animé par les chants des cigales. Kieran marchait aux côté de Mark, ses mains entrelacées aux siennes, ressemblant à un simple humain avec ses jeans et son t-shirt. Il avait mis des limites au port d'équipement. "Ce n'est bon pour aucun de nous de nous ignorer."

"Tu m'as manqué," répliqua Mark. Il ne semblait pas y avoir de raison de ne pas être honnête. " Je n'ai pas eu l'intention de t'ignorer, ou de te blesser. Je m'excuse."

Kieran leva le regard, les yeux emplis de surprise sous ses cils sombres. " Il n'y a aucun besoin d'excuses." Il hésita " J'ai eu, comme vous dites ici dans le monde mortel, beaucoup de choses en tête."

Mark cacha un sourire dans le crépuscule. C'était insupportablement mignon quand Kieran utilisait des phrases modernes.

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“We might as well talk, Mark,” Kieran said. A bright moon had risen; it illuminated the dark ocean, turned it to a sheet of black and silver glass, the colors of Kieran’s eyes. The night desert was alive with the sound of cicadas. Kieran was walking beside Mark with his hands looped behind him, deceptively human-looking in jeans and t-shirt. He had drawn the line at donning any gear. “It does us no good to ignore each other.”

“I have missed you,” Mark said. There seemed no point in not being honest. “Nor did I intend to ignore you, or to hurt you. I apologize.”

Kieran looked up, a surprised flash under dark lashes. “There is no need to apologize.” He hesitated. “I have had, as you say here in the mortal world, a lot on my mind.”

Mark hid a smile in the dusk. It was irritatingly cute when Kieran used modern phrases.

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wyn seated himself opposite her, large hands at his sides, his brow creased with concern. His size and bulk somehow made him seem more helpless than he would have otherwise. “I know what happened,” he said. “When death comes in great and unexpected ways, the Wild Hunt knows it. We hear the stories told by spilled blood.”

Diana didn’t know what to say — that death was unfair? That Livvy hadn’t deserved to die that way, or any way? That the broken hearts of the Blackthorns would never be the same? It all seemed trite, a hundred times said and understood already.

Instead, she said, “I think I would like it if you kissed me.”

Gwyn didn’t hesitate. He was beside her in a moment, graceful despite his bulk; he put his arms around her and she was surrounded by warmth and the smell of the forest and horses. She wrinkled her nose slightly and smiled, and he kissed her smiling mouth.

It was a gentle kiss, for all his size. The softness of his mouth contrasted with the scratch of his stubble and the hard musculature under her hands when she put them timidly on his shoulders and stroked.

It had been a long time, and she had never imagined something quite like this: moonlight and flowers and kissing in glades were for other people.

But apparently not.

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