A Trip to the New York Library

Sebastian pulled his hood lower over his face as heslipped passed the mulling crowds of people.  He could hearall their incessant chattering voices, like a thousandhigh-pitched bees buzzing in his ear. Just as he reached the steps of the library an old man crashed into him,his books sliding out from his grip/

“My apologies,” the man said in high reedy voice, beforehe got a good look at him.  Jonathannever understood why, but mundies always seemed to stop and stare at him likethat.  Like they were afraid and mystifiedat the same time.  Perhaps it was becauseof his black clothing and black eyes, or maybe they could sense there wassomething wrong with him, the way a sheep instantly recognizes the presence ofa wolf.  Rage flashed through him,boiling his blood.  He wanted to gut theman open, and perhaps he had seen that for eyes widened and his hands began to tremble.  But the next second it was gone.  He reached done and swiftly gathered the man’sbooks before handing them back to him.  “Not at all, sir. We all have our moments, don’t we?”  The man stared at him for moment beforegiving Sebastian a weak smile and taking off. Jonathan watched him go, and then turned back, muttering under his breath.

He had considered using glamour, but then decided againstit.  He was tired from hiding from theworld, from the mundies.  They shouldknow who he was, and who walked among them. Though he wasn’t sure how much longer he could survive in their company.  He’d been surprised Lilith had hidden thebook in a mundane library; though that was the last place the clave would’velooked for it.  Jonathan had been growingimpatient.  He knew Lilith’s strength wasgrowing, but he wanted her to return now. He’d begun searching, and eventually the book had turned up.  He didn’t know much about it, he didn’t evenknow its name, but it was said to reverse the power of angels and raise up thedemons.  Regardless of whether it workedor not he wanted that book.  He’d trackeddown a young warlock who apparently knew its location.  He’d been willing to pay the warlock ahandsome price, but the little freak had decided to get greedy, so Sebastianhad moved to more “conventional” ways of making him talk.  In the end the warlock had told him Sebastianwould need him to do the ritual. Sebastian assumed he wasn’t lying. But he killed him anyway.  There were plenty of warlocks who would workfor a price, and besides, it was best to cover his tracks anyway.

He stepped inside the library, before realizing he had noidea where to look.  He began to wanderup and down the aisles, looking for anything that looked out at place.  It was several minutes before he reached theother end of the library, where there were several chairs.  He meant to pass over them, but thenstopped.  There was a boy, with blondhair, sitting there, intently absorbed in a book.  All shadowhunters could sense one anotherpresence, and Sebastian was no exception. But who was he?  What was he doinghere?  Was he glamour?  Jonathan was stuck.  A part of him knew he should keep moving, andthat entangling with another shadowhunter would only make things morecomplicated.  But what was a shadowhunterdoing in a mundane library?  His curiositywas overwhelming.  He through it over andreasoned that if this boy loved books enough to mingle with mundies, then hemight be able to help Sebastian.  It wasjust an excuse, but Sebastian didn’t care. He walked over and sat next to him, keeping his hood pulled over his eyes.  He had no idea if the boy would recognize himor not, but if not, well, it might be nice to have a little fun.

Sebastian didn’t miss the awkward pause in the shadowhunter’s response. He could tell the boy was studying him, and not just his physical appearance. And whatever he saw, well, the library air conditioning may have been on high, but no one shivered like from cold. His lips quirked up into a smile, though he wasn’t exactly thrilled. If the kid was scared of him, then it meant he was losing his acting abilities. Well, he supposed it wasn’t that important, he hated that he had to pretend to this—person—anyway; but he decided to keep the guise up in case he could still get something out of him.

He nodded as the boy spoke, a gesture that indicated polite interest, but his eyebrows furrowed at the mention of weird markings, he didn’t recognize them but...he pushed that information to the side, resolving to come back to it later. He wasn’t quite sure what to make of this guy, he seemed pretty low key and yet…

“Yeah, pretty weird seeing them in a mundane book.” He replied, his voice that same quiet, controlled quality, “But weirder still is a shadowhunter in a mundane library.” Despite the fact that they both already knew the other was a shadowhunter, Sebastian felt it needed to be acknowledged, out loud, for them to continue. Or at least, the persona he was portraying did, Sebastian himself could care less about the tension. “What are you doing here, exactly?” He asked, there was of course, the chance that he an exiled shadowhunter, in which case he might not have had access to an institute. But he doubted it, he tracked down almost every former shadowhunter in existence, and it seemed unlikely that he would’ve missed one living in New York.

“Oh, excuse my rudeness, I don’t even know your name,” Sebastian said, opening the way for introductions. Sebastian new the trick to getting into people’s good graces. You immediately found a common interest with them; in this case, it would be books. Then you moved on to getting names. Then you offered them something, something they desperately wanted, and then you gave to them, for a price. It had worked with Clary, for a while, and Sebastian was confident this boy would be the same. He might’ve even come to dispel his earlier impression of Sebastian. And come to see him as a potential friend. If Sebastian ended up needing him, that would be beneficial, but if not, he could kill him, which wasn’t exactly a horrible alterative either. At least, not for him.

Sebastian had to admit, he was impressed. It looks like Tristan wasn’t as weak as he thought. He’d completely pegged him as shy, quiet, mousy, book-wormy time. Kind of like that Hodge bloke he’d killed all those months ago. Not that it really mattered, he would fail. The Angel’s children were strong, but they were so much slower and weaker than he was. Even their shining star, Jace, could stand up to him, not really. And then there was his training from Valentine to consider. The intensity of it had been beyond what any other Shadowhunter would’ve experienced, except maybe Jace. But even then, Sebastian had longed suspected that Jace’s weakness meant Valentine had not wasted his time teaching Jace everything he had taught his real son.

“Actually I was thinking of stopping by your grandmother’s house,” Sebastian said with a lazy, feral grin as he leaned against the shelves, folding his arms across his chest. “That is how the story goes, isn’t it?” Of course, he knew that Tristan had been lying about his grandmother, but he probably had someone. They all had someone. And Sebastian would find out who’s his was.

Sebastian was completely relaxed against his shelf, and it showed, but he didn’t care. There was no way Tristan could outrun him, no way for him to get away. As far as he was concerned he’d already won, the rest was just—entertainment. Though he was a little caught off guard by Tristan’s weaponry. It was different, and yes, Sebastian had to admit he was a little envious. But just a little.

“I hope he kept the receipt,” Sebastian said grinning, but he didn’t have long to gloat as the next second Tristan was springing toward him. Sebastian leapt, up over the shelf and out of Tristan’s reach. As he did he kicked his foot out, sending the shelf tumbling over right where Tristan would be in a few moments.

Sebastian would admit, that wasn’t what he expected. The kid seemed to transform right before his eyes. He wasn’t the shy little bookworm with a few tricks anymore, oh no, there was something darker, more sinister about him. And a house fire, that struck him, mostly because he’d been involved with one a few years ago. It had been the first real attack his father had let him lead, albeit under his supervision. He could remember the fire, remember the screaming, remember standing there watching as their fire demons raged around the pathetic angel children. He couldn’t really remember why they had to die though; it hadn’t seemed important, just that they did. It seemed like they’d had a connection to some of the members of the uprising, something to do with the werewolf, Lucian Graymark. He also couldn’t remember what their name was, although he was pretty sure it wasn’t Whitegrave. He grinned; this was only getting better every moment.

He furrowed his eyebrows, Tristan; although that might not be his name either, launched onto a bookshelf, and then he started talking about circuses. Sebastian wasn’t quite sure how circuses fit into this, weren’t circuses those childish shows with clowns and elephants or something? He shook his head, clearing the thought, and instead focused on how to use Tristan’s positioning to his advantage.  On the one hand, it was clear he would be easily able to launch off, but on the other hand he was backed against the wall, which limited his exits. He wasn’t quite sure how to approach him though, but Tristan’s next comment gave him idea. How convenient that he had used the word burn...

“Oh no, I wasn’t really focused on burning down the world when I was kid, I was more into the domestic side of things. You know, schools, libraries, houses,” he cocked his head, grinning, “Isn’t that right, Hexcaster.” He had finally remembered the name. And after he set that particular bomb on Tristan he launched himself forward, directly in line with Tristan, pulling a second, smaller blade out from under his shirt and whirling them both around in front of him, intending to box him in.

Okay, while this had been fun, Sebastian was starting to get really frustrated.  This kid was like a little fly that you knew couldn't hurt you, but he was so damn annoying you wanted to squash him, and he kept darting out of your reach.  But that was when you changed your tactic.

"Well, I'm impressed kid.  I just told you I killed your family and you barely blinked, you must be colder than I thought." he grinned, savoring the moment, "We could use someone like you, someone who's not held back by petty notions of family loyalty or the past.  Forget Clary, I'd much rather work with you."  It was an empty offer, but from what he'd noticed, what pissed people off most was when you invited them to join you.  It's certainly what had worked with Clary.

He dodged the kid's blows with ease.  he may have been good, but Sebastian was at the top of his game.  Sebastian laughed, knowing that would make the kid angry, and he'd be more likely to make a mistake.  But then he heard something, the distinct sound of many booted figures traveling this way.  His lip curled, it was either the shadowhunters or the police, and he prefer not to stick around and found out which.  It would be effective to get in that kind of entanglement right now, so he'd better wrap things up.

"Alright kid, no more games." He said, "Give the book and I'll let you walk out of here alive, otherwise, you won't be so lucky."