A Trip to the New York Library

Sebastian couldn't help but chuckle as he admired his handiwork.  The Nephilim pretended they understood the ways of the heaven, but little did they know the ways of the angels were weak and limitless, just like the angel children themselves. 

He heard the exquisite sound that was the snapping of bones, the ragged breathing and stifled sobs that were signs his plan had been successful.  He moved forward through the rubble, kicking aside debry as he went.  The boy shuffled away from him, but on one leg he wasn't exactly getting very far.

Sebastian chuckled again, like the low murmuring of a bubbling stream, only a bit more, well, sinister.  he could see the tears on the boys face, practically smell the saltwater on his cheek.  He couldn't help but wrinkle his nose a little.  Crying was something he'd never understood, as he'd never done it himself except for when he was imitating humanity.

The boy screamed something at him, but Sebastian barely registered it.  Still he couldn't help but smirk as he replied, "all in good time, my friend."  The boy's death would come after he took the book.  He wouldn't really need to kill him, but it would send a sign to the other shadowhunters.  Sebastian meant business.  All he needed now was to locate the book and—ah—there it was, the boy been smart enough to grab it in the chaos.  Or stupid enough, depending on how you looked at it.


Sebastian pulled out his sword.  Alright, he could pry it from the boy's corpse, he wasn't picky.  But before he could take another step he felt a sharp pain in his left shoulder.  He snarled as he reached up and felt an arrow there.  He pulled it out, ignoring the sharp stabs of pain as he looked up to find it's shooter.  But dozens of black shapes were moving forward, the nephilim were here.  He was out of time.

"The book, give me the book!" he hissed, diving forward onto the boy.