Born to Endless Night (Tales from the Shadowhunter Academy, #9)

“Come on, dancing with me isn’t so bad,” George told Julie. “I may be no Magnus Bane . . .” He paused and looked over at Magnus, who had changed into a black gauze shirt with blue sequins twinkling underneath. “I definitely could not pull that off,” he added. “But I do work out! And I have a Scottish accent.”


“You know that’s right,” said Simon. He high-fived George and smiled at the girls, but he was already moving past them, on his way to the center of the dancers.

On his way to Isabelle.

He came up behind her and slid his arm around her waist. She leaned back against him. She was wearing the dress she’d worn the day he’d first met her for the second time, reminding him of the starry night over Shadowhunter Academy.

“Hey,” he whispered. “I want to tell you something.”

“What is it?” Isabelle whispered back.

Simon turned her toward him, and she let him. He thought they should have this conversation face-to-face.

Behind her, he could see Jace and Alec. They were hugging, and Alec was laughing. Jace was patting him on the back in a congratulatory way. So much for terrible vengeance, though Simon couldn’t really say he minded.

“I wanted to tell you before I try to Ascend,” he said.

The smile dropped off Isabelle’s face. “If this is an in-case-I-die speech, I don’t want to hear it,” she said fiercely. “You’re not going to do that to me. You’re not going to even consider dying. You’re going to be fine.”

“No,” Simon said. “You’ve got it all wrong. I wanted to say this now, because if I Ascend, I get my memories back.”

Isabelle looked confused instead of angry, which was an improvement. “What is it, then?”

“It doesn’t matter if I get my memories back or not,” Simon said. “It doesn’t matter if another demon gives me amnesia tomorrow. I know you: You’ll come find me again, you’ll come rescue me no matter what happens. You’ll come for me, and I’ll discover you all over again. I love you. I love you without the memories. I love you right now.”

There was a pause, broken by irrelevancies like the music and the murmur of the people all around them. He could not quite read the look on Isabelle’s face.

Isabelle said in a calm voice: “I know.”

Simon stared at her. “Was that . . . ,” he said slowly. “Was that a Star Wars reference? Because if it was, I would like to declare my love all over again.”

“Go on, then,” said Isabelle. “I mean it. Say it again. I’ve been waiting awhile.”

“I love you,” said Simon.

Isabelle was laughing. Simon would have thought he would be appalled to say those words to a girl and have her laugh at him. But Isabelle was always surprising him. He could not stop looking at her. “Really?” she asked, and her eyes were shining. “Really?”

“Really,” said Simon.

He drew her to him, and they danced together, on the top floor of the Academy, in the heart of her family. Since she’d been waiting awhile, he told her again and again.

*

Magnus kept misplacing his baby. This did not seem a good sign for the future. Magnus was sure you were meant to keep a firm grip on their location.

He eventually located the baby with Maryse, who had seized him in triumph and run away to coo over her treasure in the kitchen.

“Oh, hello,” said Maryse, looking a little guilty.

“Hello, you,” said Magnus, and curved a hand around the small blue head, feeling the crisp curls. “And hello, you.”

The baby let out a fretful little wail. Magnus thought he was learning to distinguish between the different wails, and he magicked up a bottle of formula, ready-made. He held out his arms and Maryse visibly summoned up the willpower to surrender the baby.

“You’re good with him,” Maryse offered as Magnus tucked him into the corner of his arm and popped the bottle into his small mouth.

“Alec’s better,” Magnus said.