Son of the Dawn (Ghosts of the Shadow Market #1)

“Maybe I wanted to rip my shirt for Brother Let-him-see-my-rack-ariah.”

Raphael lifted his eyes to heaven. Since he was not looking at her, Lily could look at him. She did. Brother Zachariah saw her lift a hand, her fingernails painted red and gold, and almost touch his curly hair. Her hand moved as if she might stroke the shadows over his head, then curled into a fist. She did not permit herself the luxury.

Raphael motioned her away and got to his feet.

“Let’s go find the yin fen.”

It was not difficult to locate. It was in a large box in a cabin belowdecks. Lily and Brother Zachariah carried the box up between them, Lily clearly ready to make a scene if Raphael tried to help.

Even after all these years, seeing the glimmer of yin fen in the moonlight made Zachariah’s stomach lurch and turn, as if the sight pitched him onto a boat on a different sea, one in which he could never keep his balance.

Lily moved to tip the box over the side, and let it be swallowed by the hungry waters.

“No, Lily!” said Raphael. “I will not have drug-addled mermaids infesting the rivers of my city. What if we end up with glowing silver alligators in the sewers? Nobody will be surprised, but I will know it is your fault, and I will be extremely disappointed in you.”

“You never let me have any fun,” Lily grumbled.

“I never let anyone have any fun,” said Raphael, and looked smug.

Brother Zachariah stared into the box full of silver powder. It had meant the difference between quick and slow death to him once. He set the fire using a rune known only to the Silent Brothers, a rune meant to burn away harmful magic. Life and death were nothing but ashes in the air.

Thank you for telling me about the yin fen, he told Raphael.

“From my perspective, I took advantage of your weakness over the stuff,” said Raphael. “You used to take it to keep yourself alive once, as I understand it. Didn’t work, I see. Anyway, your emotional state is no concern of mine, and my city is safe. Mission accomplished.”

He wiped his hands, gleaming with blood and silver, over the lapping waves.

Does your leader know anything about this mission? Zachariah asked Lily.

She was watching Raphael.

“Of course,” she said. “My leader told you all about it. Didn’t he?”

“Lily! That is stupidity and treason.” Raphael’s voice was chill as the sea breeze. “If I was ordered to execute you for it, make no mistake, I would do so. I would not hesitate.”

Lily bit her lip and tried to pass off how hurt she clearly was. “Oh, but I have a good feeling about Brother Zacharide-him-like-a-bad-pony. He won’t tell.”

“Is there a place here for a vampire to be stowed away safely from the sunrise?” Raphael asked.

Brother Zachariah had not considered that the protracted fight with the werewolves meant the sun was close to rising. Raphael glanced at him sharply when he did not answer.

“Is there only room for one? Lily needs to be secured. I am responsible for her.”

Lily turned her face away so Raphael did not see her expression, but Zachariah saw it. He recognized her expression from a time when he had been able to feel that way himself. She looked sick with love.

There was room for both vampires in the cargo hold. On their way to examine the hold, Lily almost tripped over the dead Shadowhunter woman.

“Oooh, Raphael!” she exclaimed brightly. “It’s Catherine Ashdown!”

It was like the faint cold spray of seawater, to see how utterly indifferent she was to human life. Brother Zachariah saw her belatedly recall his presence.

“Oh no,” she added in not terribly convincing tones. “What a senseless tragedy.”

“Go to the hold, Lily,” Raphael commanded.

Will you not both go? asked Brother Zachariah.

“I prefer to wait as long as I can before dawn to test myself,” said Raphael.

Lily sighed. “He’s Catholic. So very, very Catholic.”

Her hand moved restlessly by her side, as if she wanted to reach out and pull Raphael along with her. Instead, she used it to give Zachariah another little wave, the same one she had given when they first met.

“Brother Sixpackariah,” she said. “It’s been a pleasure.”

And for me, said Brother Zachariah, and listened to her skip lightly down the stairs.

She had, at least, given him the woman’s name. Brother Zachariah could take her back to her family and the City of Bones, where she could rest and he could not.

He knelt down by the dead woman’s side and closed her staring eyes.

Ave atque vale, Catherine Ashdown, he murmured.

He rose to find Raphael still by his side, though not looking at him or the dead woman. Raphael’s eyes rested on the black sea touched with moonlight, the black sky edged with the faintest line of silver.

I am glad to have met you both, Zachariah added.

“I can’t imagine why,” said Raphael. “Those names Lily came up with were very bad.”

People do not joke with the Silent Brothers often.

The prospect of not being joked around with made Raphael look wistful. “It must be nice to be a Silent Brother. Aside from the fact Shadowhunters are annoying and pathetic. And I don’t know that she was joking. I’d watch yourself next time you’re in New York.”

Of course she was joking, said Brother Zachariah. She is in love with you.

Raphael’s face twisted. “Why do Shadowhunters always want to talk about feelings? Why can nobody ever be a professional? For your information, I do not have any interest in romance of any kind and never will. Now can you drop this revolting subject?”

I can, said Brother Zachariah. Perhaps you would like to talk about the gang of boys you claim to have killed?

“I’ve killed many people,” said Raphael distantly.

A group of children? said Zachariah. In your city? Did this happen in the 1950s?

Maryse Lightwood might have been fooled. Brother Zachariah was familiar with what it looked like when someone blamed and hated themselves for what had happened to those they loved.

“There was a vampire hunting children on the streets where my brothers played,” Raphael said, his voice still distant. “I led my gang to his lair to stop him. None of us survived.”

Brother Zachariah tried to be gentle.

When a vampire is newborn they cannot control themselves.

“I was the leader,” said Raphael, his steely voice brooking no argument. “I was responsible. Well. We did stop the vampire, and my family lived to grow up.”

All but one.

“I generally do accomplish what I set my mind on,” said Raphael.

That is extremely clear, said Brother Zachariah.

He listened to the sound of the waves hitting the side of the boat, carrying them to the city. On the night of the Market he had been detached from the city and everyone in it, and certainly he had felt nothing for a vampire determined to feel nothing himself.

But then had come a laugh, and the sound had woken things inside him that he had feared dead. Once woken to the world, Zachariah did not want to be blind to any of it.

You saved people today. The Shadowhunters saved people, even though they did not save you when you were a child trying to fight monsters.

Raphael twitched as if this implication of why he disliked Shadowhunters was a fly landing on him.

“Few are saved,” said Raphael. “Nobody is spared. Somebody tried to save me once, and I will pay him back one day. I don’t choose to owe another debt, or for anyone to owe me. We all got what we wanted. The Shadowhunters and I are done.”

There might always be another time for help or cooperation, said Brother Zachariah. The Lightwoods are trying. Consider letting the other Downworlders know you survived dealing with them.

Raphael made a noncommittal sound.

There are more kinds of love than stars, said Brother Zachariah. If you do not feel one, there are many others. You know what it is to care for family and friends. What we keep sacred, keeps us safe. Consider that by trying to cut yourself off from the possibility of being hurt, you shut the door on love and live in darkness.