“I’m not a ninja,” he muttered.
A pretty girl with butterfly clips in her dreadlocks put her hand on his arm. “You were amazing,” she told him, her voice fluting. “You have the reflexes of a striking snake. You should be a stuntman. Really, with your cheekbones, you should be an actor. A lot of people are looking for someone as pretty as you who’d do his own stunts.”
Alec threw Magnus a terrified and beseeching look. Magnus took pity on him, putting a hand on the small of Alec’s back and leaning against him. His attitude and the glance he shot at the girl clearly communicated my date.
“No offense,” said the girl, rapidly removing her hand so she could dig in her bag. “Let me give you my card. I work in a talent agency. You could be a star.”
“He’s foreign,” Magnus told the girl. “He doesn’t have a social security number. You can’t hire him.”
The girl regarded Alec’s bowed head wistfully. “That’s a shame. He could be huge. Those eyes!”
“I realize he’s a knockout,” Magnus said. “But I am afraid I have to whisk him away. He is wanted by Interpol.”
Alec shot him a strange look. “Interpol?”
Magnus shrugged.
“Knockout?” Alec said.
Magnus raised an eyebrow at him. “You had to know I thought so. Why else would I agree to go on a date with you?”
Apparently Alec had not known for sure, even though he’d said Isabelle and Jace had both commented on it. Maybe the vampires had all gone home and gossiped about the fact Magnus thought one of the Shadowhunters was a dreamboat. Magnus possibly needed to learn subtlety, and Alec possibly was not allowed access to mirrors at the Institute. He looked startled and pleased.
“I thought maybe—you know you said you weren’t unsympathetic—”
“I don’t do charity,” said Magnus. “In any area of my life.”
“I’ll give the wallet back,” piped up a helpful voice.
The red-haired mugger interrupted what might have become a nice moment by scrambling to his feet, digging out Magnus’s wallet, and then dropping Magnus’s wallet on the ground with a pained yelp.
“That wallet bit me!”
That’ll show you not to steal warlocks’ wallets, Magnus thought, bending down to retrieve the wallet from a forest of sparkling high heels on the concrete.
Aloud he said, “This just isn’t your lucky night, is it?”
“Your wallet bites people?” Alec asked.
“This one bites people,” said Magnus, pocketing it. He was glad to have it back, not only because he liked money but because the wallet matched his red crocodile-skin pants. “The John Varvatos wallet bursts into flames.”
“Who?” said Alec.
Magnus gazed at Alec sadly.
“Totally cool designer,” chipped in the girl with butterfly clips. “You know, they give you designer stuff free when you’re a movie star.”
“I can always flog a Varvatos wallet,” agreed the red-haired mugger. “Not that I’d steal and sell anything belonging to anyone on this platform. Specially not you guys.” He shot Alec a look that bordered on hero worship. “I didn’t know gay dudes could fight like that. Like, no offense. It was badass.”
“You have been taught two important lessons about tolerance and honesty,” Magnus informed him severely. “And you still have all your fingers after trying to mug me on a first date, so this was the best outcome you could expect.”
There was a murmur of sympathy. Magnus stared around and saw Alec looking a little wild-eyed and everyone else looking concerned. Apparently the crowd they had gathered truly believed in their love.
“Aw, man, I’m really sorry,” said the mugger. “I wouldn’t want to mess up anybody’s first date with a ninja.”
“WE ARE LEAVING NOW,” said Magnus, in his best High Warlock voice. He was worried that Alexander was planning to fling himself into the path of an oncoming train.
“Have fun on your date, boys,” said Butterfly Clips, stuffing her card into the pocket of Alec’s jeans. Alec jumped like a startled hare. “Call me if you change your mind about wanting fame and fortune!”
“Sorry again!” said their former mugger, waving a cheerful good-bye.
They left the platform amid a chorus of well-wishers. Alec looked as if he wished only for the sweet release of death.
The restaurant was on East 13th and 3rd, near an American Apparel store and among a row of tired-looking redbrick buildings. It was an Ethiopian and Italian fusion restaurant run by Downworlders. It was on the shady, shabby side, so Shadowhunters did not frequent it. Magnus had strongly suspected that Alec would not want to risk any Nephilim seeing them together.
He’d also brought many mundane dates there, as a way of easing them into his world. The restaurant wanted mundane custom but in the main the clientele were Downworlders, so glamours were used but fairly minimal.