For a moment he stopped and was stock-stil , almost jerking her out of the dance. “Jessie! How can you even think such a thing? You know how I adore you.” He looked at her reproachful y as they began to move to the music again. “It is true that your connection to the Nephilim of the Institute has been invaluable. Without you we would never have known they were going to York, for instance. But I thought you knew that you were helping me because we are working toward a future together. When I have become the Magister’s right hand, darling, think how I wil be able to provide for you.”
Tessa laughed nervously. “You’re right, Nate. It’s only that I get frightened sometimes. What if Charlotte were to find out I was spying for you?
What would they do to me?”
Nate swung her around easily. “Oh, nothing, darling; you’ve said it yourself, they’re cowards.” He looked past her and raised an eyebrow.
“Benedict, up to his old tricks,” he said. “Rather disgusting.”
Tessa looked around and saw Benedict Lightwood leaning back on a scarlet velvet sofa near the orchestra. He was coatless, a glass of red wine in one hand, his eyes half-lidded. Sprawled across his chest, Tessa saw to her shock, was a woman—or at least it had the form of a woman. Long black hair worn loose, a low-cut black velvet gown—and the heads of little serpents poking out from her eyes, hissing. As Tessa watched, one of them extended a long, forked tongue and licked the side of Benedict Lightwood’s face.
“That’s a demon,” Tessa breathed, forgetting for a moment to be Jessamine. “Isn’t it?”
Fortunately Nate seemed to find nothing odd about the question. “Of course it is, sil y bunny. That’s what Benedict fancies. Demon women.”
Wil ’s voice echoed in Tessa’s ears, I would be surprised if some of the elder Lightwood’s nocturnal visits to certain houses in Shadwell haven’t left him with a nasty case of demon pox. “Oh, ugh,” she said.
“Indeed,” said Nate. “Ironic, considering the high-and-mighty manner in which the Nephilim conduct themselves. I ask myself often why Mortmain favors him so and wishes to see him instal ed in the Institute so badly.” Nate sounded peevish.
Tessa had already guessed as much, but the knowledge that Mortmain was most assuredly behind Benedict’s fierce determination to take the Institute from Charlotte stil felt like a blow. “I just don’t see,” she said, trying her best to adopt Jessie’s lightly peevish demeanor, “what use it wil be to the Magister. It’s just a big stuffy old building. . . .”
Nate laughed indulgently. “It’s not the building, sil y thing. It’s the position. The head of the London Institute is one of the most powerful Shadowhunters in England, and the Magister controls Benedict as if he were a puppet. Using him, he can destroy the Council from within, while the automaton army destroys them from without.” He spun her expertly as the dance required; only Tessa’s years of practice dancing with Nate kept her from fal ing over, so distracted was she by shock. “Besides, it’s not quite true that the Institute contains nothing of value. Access to the Great Library alone wil be invaluable for the Magister. Not to mention the weapons room . . .”
“And Tessa.” She clamped down on her voice so it wouldn’t tremble.
“Tessa?”
“Your sister. The Magister stil wants her, doesn’t he?”
For the first time Nate looked at her with a puzzled surprise. “We’ve been over this, Jessamine,” he said. “Tessa wil be arrested for il egal possession of articles of dark magic, and sent to the Silent City. Benedict wil bring her forth from there and deliver her to the Magister. It is al part of whatever bargain they struck, though what Benedict is getting from it is not clear to me yet. It must be something quite significant, or he would not be so wil ing to turn on his own.”
A rrested? Possession of articles of dark magic? Tessa’s head spun.
Nate’s hand slipped around the back of her neck. He was wearing gloves, but Tessa couldn’t rid herself of the feeling that something slimy was touching her skin. “My little Jessie,” he murmured. “You behave almost as if you’ve forgotten your own part in this. You did hide the Book of the White in my sister’s room as we asked you to, did you not?”
“Of—of course I did. I was only joking, Nate.”
“That’s my good girl.” He was leaning closer. He was definitely going to kiss her. It was most improper, but then nothing about this place could be considered proper. In a state of absolute horror, Tessa sputtered:
“Nate—I feel dizzy—as if I might faint. I think it’s the heat. If you could fetch me a lemonade?”
He looked down at her for a moment, his mouth tight with bottled annoyance, but Tessa knew he could not refuse. No gentleman would. He straightened up, brushed off his cuffs, and smiled. “Of course,” he said with a bow. “Let me help you to a seat first.”
She protested, but his hand was already on her elbow, guiding her toward one of the chairs lined up along the wal s. He settled her into it and vanished into the crowd. She watched him go, trembling al over. Dark magic. She felt sick, and angry. She wanted to slap her brother, shake him til he told her the rest of the truth, but she knew she couldn’t.