The Evil We Love (Tales from the Shadowhunter Academy, #5)

“Can’t you just see it?” Michael said. “Daddy Valentine, knee deep in diapers. A busload of kids.”


“However many Jocelyn wants.” Valentine’s expression softened, as it always did when he said her name. They’d only been together a couple of months—since his father died—but no one questioned that they were together for good. The way he looked at her . . . like she was a different species than the rest of them, a higher species. “Can’t you see it?” Valentine had confided once, early on, when Robert asked him how he could be so sure of love, so soon. “There’s more of the Angel in her than in the rest of us. There’s greatness in her. She shines like Raziel himself.”

“You just want to flood the gene pool,” Michael said. “I imagine you think the world would be better off if every Shadowhunter had a little Morgenstern in them.”

Valentine grinned. “I’m told false modesty doesn’t suit me, so . . . no comment.”

“While we’re on the subject,” Stephen said, a blush rising in his cheeks. “I’ve asked Amatis. And she said yes.”

“Asked what?” Robert said.

Michael and Valentine only laughed, as Stephen’s cheeks took fire. “To marry me,” he admitted. “What do you think?”

The question was ostensibly directed to all of them, but his gaze was fixed on Valentine, who hesitated an impossibly long time before answering.

“Amatis?” he said finally, furrowing his brow as if he’d have to give the matter some serious thought.

Stephen caught his breath, and in that moment, Robert almost thought it was possible that he needed Valentine’s approval—that despite proposing to Amatis, despite loving her so deeply and desperately that he nearly vibrated with emotion whenever she came near, despite writing her that abominable love song Robert had once found crumpled under his bed, Stephen would cast her aside if Valentine commanded it.

In that moment, Robert almost thought it was possible that Valentine would command it, just to see what happened.

Then Valentine’s face relaxed into a wide smile, and he threw an arm around Stephen, saying, “It’s about time. I don’t know what you were waiting for, you idiot. When you’re lucky enough to have a Graymark by your side, you do whatever you can to make sure it’s forever. I should know.”

Then everyone was laughing and toasting and plotting bachelor party schemes and teasing Stephen about his short-lived attempts at songwriting, and it was Robert who felt like the idiot, imagining even for a second that Stephen’s love for Amatis could waver, or that Valentine had anything but their best interests at heart.

These were his friends, the best he would ever have, or anyone could ever have.

These were his comrades in arms, and nights like these, bursts of joy beneath starry skies, were their reward for the special obligation they’d taken upon themselves.

To imagine otherwise was only a symptom of Robert’s secret weakness, his inveterate lack of conviction, and he resolved not to let himself do so again.

“And you, old man?” Valentine asked Robert. “As if I even have to ask. We all know Maryse does what she wants.”

“And inexplicably, she seems to want you,” Stephen added.

Michael, who had fallen unusually silent, caught Robert’s eye. Only Michael knew how little Robert liked to think about the future, especially this part of it. How much he dreaded being forced into marriage, parenting, responsibility. If it were up to Robert, he would stay at the Academy forever. It made little sense. Because of what had happened when he was a kid, he was a couple of years older than his friends—he should have been chafing at the restrictions of youth. But maybe—because of what had happened—part of him would always feel cheated and want that time back. He’d spent so long wanting the life he had now. He wasn’t ready to let go of it quite yet.