Benedict sat back. “I know blackmail when I hear it, Charlotte. What do you want from me?”
It was Wil who responded, too eager to hold himself back any longer. “Withdraw your claim on the Institute. Speak out for Charlotte in front of the Council. Tel them why you think the Institute should be left in her keeping. You are a wel -spoken man. You’l think of something, I’m sure.”
Benedict looked from Wil to Charlotte. His lip curled. “Those are your terms?”
Before Wil could speak, Charlotte said, “Not al our terms. We need to know how you have been communicating with Mortmain, and where he is.”
Benedict chuckled. “I communicated with him through Nathaniel Gray. But, since you’ve kil ed him, I doubt he wil be a forthcoming source of information.”
Charlotte looked appal ed. “You mean no one else knew where he was?”
“I certainly don’t,” said Benedict. “Mortmain is not that stupid, unfortunately for you. He wished me to be able to take the Institute that he might strike at it from its heart. But it was only one of his many plans, a strand of his web. He has been waiting for this a long time. He wil have the Clave.
And he wil have her.” His eyes rested on Tessa.
“What does he intend to do with me?” Tessa demanded.
“I don’t know,” Benedict said with a sly smile. “I do know he was consistently asking after your welfare. Such concern, so touching in a potential bridegroom.”
“He says he created me,” said Tessa. “What does he mean by that?”
“I haven’t the vaguest idea. You are mistaken if you think he made me his confidant.”
“Yes,” said Wil , “you two don’t seem to have much in common, save a penchant for demon women and evil.”
“Wil !” snapped Tessa.
“I didn’t mean you,” said Wil , looking surprised. “I meant the Pandemonium Club—”
“If you are quite done with your byplay,” said Benedict, “I wish to make one thing very clear to my son. Gideon, understand that if you support Charlotte Branwel in this, you wil no longer be welcome under my roof. It is not for nothing that they say a man should never hang al his bel s on one horse.”
In answer Gideon raised his hands in front of him, almost as if he meant to pray. But Shadowhunters did not pray, and Tessa realized quickly what he was doing—slipping the silver ring from his finger. The ring that was like Jem’s Carstairs ring, only this one had a pattern of flames about the band. The Lightwood family ring. He set it down on the edge of his father’s desk, and turned to his brother.
“Gabriel,” he said. “Wil you come with me?”
Gabriel’s green eyes were bril iant with anger. “You know I cannot.”
“Yes, you can.” Gideon held his hand out to his brother. Benedict stared between the two of them. He had paled slightly, as if suddenly realizing that he might lose not just one son, but both. His hand gripped the edge of the desk, his knuckles whitening. Tessa could not help staring at the expanse of the wrist that was revealed as his sleeve rose. It was very pale, banded with black circular striations. Something about the sight nauseated her, and she rose from her seat. Wil , beside her, was already standing. Only Charlotte was stil sitting, as prim and expressionless as ever.
“Gabriel, please,” Gideon said. “Come with me.”
“Who wil take care of father? What wil people say about our family if we both abandon him?” Gabriel said, bitterness and desperation coloring his tone. “Who wil manage the estates, the Council seat—”
“I don’t know,” said Gideon. “But it does not need to be you. The Law—”
Gabriel’s voice shook. “Family before Law, Gideon.” His eyes locked with his brother’s for a moment; then he looked away, chewing his lip, and went to stand behind Benedict, his hand on the back of his father’s chair.
Benedict smiled; in this one thing, at least, he was triumphant. Charlotte rose to her feet, her chin held high. “I trust we wil see you tomorrow, in the Council chamber, Benedict. I trust you wil know what to do,” she said, and swept from the room, Gideon and Tessa on her heels. Only Wil hesitated a moment, in the doorway, his eyes on Gabriel, but when the other boy did not look at him, he shrugged at last and went out after the others, shutting the door behind him.
They rode back to the Institute in silence, rain lashing against the windows of the carriage. Charlotte attempted several times to speak to Gideon, but he was silent, staring at the blurred view of streets as they rol ed by. Tessa could not tel if he was angry, or regretted his actions, or might even be relieved. He was as impassive as always, even as Charlotte explained to him that there would always be a room for him at the Institute, and that they could hardly express their gratitude for what he had done. At last, as they rattled down the Strand, he said, “I had real y thought Gabriel would come with me. Once he knew about Mortmain . . .”