Her hand whipped out, faster than she’d ever imagined she could have moved, and caught de Quincey’s wrist. “My darling, no,” she said, a wheedling tone in her voice. “I’d so like to keep him to myself for just a little while. You know how your appetite runs away with you sometimes.” She lowered her eyelids.
De Quincey chuckled. “For you, Camille, I will exercise my restraint.” He drew his wrist away, and for a moment, under the flirtatious poise, Tessa thought she saw a flash of anger in his eyes, quickly masked. “In honor of our long acquaintance.”
“Thank you, Alexei.”
“Have you given any further thought, my dear,” he said, “to my offer of a membership in the Pandemonium Club? I know the mundanes bore you, but they are a source of funds, nothing more. Those of us on the board are on the verge of some very . . . exciting discoveries. Power beyond your wildest dreams, Camille.”
Tessa waited, but Camille’s inner voice was silent. Why? She fought down panic and managed to smile at de Quincey. “My dreams,” she said, and hoped he would think the hoarseness in her voice was from amusement and not fear, “may be more wild already than you imagine.”
Beside her, she could tell that Will had shot her a surprised look; he quickly schooled his features to blandness, though, and glanced away. De Quincey, his eyes gleaming, only smiled.
“I ask only that you consider my offer, Camille. And now I must attend to my other guests. I trust I will see you at the ceremony?”
Dazed, she simply nodded. “Of course.”
De Quincey bowed, turned, and vanished into the crowd. Tessa let her breath out. She hadn’t realized she’d been holding it.
“Don’t,” said Will softly at her side. “Vampires don’t need to breathe, remember.”
“My God, Will.” Tessa realized she was shaking. “He would have bitten you.”
Will’s eyes were dark with rage. “I would have killed him first.”
A voice spoke at Tessa’s elbow. “And then you would both be dead.”
She whirled and saw that a tall man had appeared just behind her, as soundlessly as if he had drifted there like smoke. He wore an elaborate brocade jacket, like something out of the previous century, with a riot of white lace at his collar and cuffs. Below the long jacket Tessa glimpsed knee breeches, and high buckled shoes. His hair was like rough black silk, so dark it had a bluish sheen to it; his skin was brown, the cast of his features like Jem’s. She wondered if perhaps, like Jem, he was of foreign extraction. In one ear he sported a silver loop from which dangled a diamond pendant the size of a finger, which sparkled brilliantly under the lights, and there were diamonds set into the head of his silver walking stick. He seemed to gleam all over, like witchlight. Tessa stared; she had never seen anyone dressed in such a mad fashion.
“This is Magnus,” said Will quietly, sounding relieved. “Magnus Bane.”
“My darling Camille,” Magnus said, bending to kiss her gloved hand. “We have been parted too long.”
The moment he touched her, Camille’s memories came rushing up in a flood—memories of Magnus holding her, kissing her, touching her in a distinctly intimate and personal manner. Tessa jerked her hand back with a squeak. And now you reappear, she thought resentfully in Camille’s direction.
“I see,” he murmured, straightening. His eyes, when he raised them to Tessa’s, nearly made her lose her composure: They were gold-green with slit pupils, the eyes of a cat set in a distinctly human face. They were full of shimmering amusement. Unlike Will, whose eyes held a trace of sadness even when he was amused, Magnus’s eyes were full of a surprising joy. They darted sideways, and he jerked his chin toward the far side of the room, indicating that Tessa should follow him. “Come along, then. There’s a private room where we can talk.”
In a daze Tessa followed him, Will at her side. Was she imagining it, or did the white faces of the vampires turn to follow her as she passed? A redheaded female vampire in an elaborate blue dress glared at her as she went; Camille’s voice whispered that the woman was jealous of de Quincey’s regard for her. Tessa was grateful when Magnus finally reached a door—so cleverly set into the paneled wall that she didn’t realize it was a door until the warlock had produced a key. He slid the door open with a soft click. Will and Tessa followed him inside.
The room was a library, obviously rarely used; though volumes lined the walls, they were grimed with dust, as were the velvet curtains that hung across the windows. When the door shut behind them, the light in the room dimmed; before Tessa could say anything, Magnus snapped his fingers and twin fires leaped up in the fireplaces on either side of the room. The flames of the fire were blue, and the fire itself had a strong scent, like burning joss sticks.
“Oh!” Tessa could not stop a small exclamation of surprise from passing her lips.
With a grin Magnus flung himself onto the great marble-topped table in the center of the room, and lay down on his side, his head propped on his hand. “Have you never seen a warlock do magic before?”
Will gave an exaggerated sigh. “Please refrain from teasing her, Magnus. I expect Camille told you she knows very little of the Shadow World.”
“Indeed,” Magnus said unrepentantly, “but it’s hard to believe, considering what she can do.” His eyes were on Tessa. “I saw your face when I kissed your hand. You knew who I was immediately, didn’t you? You know what Camille knows. There are some warlocks and demons who can shift—take on any shape. But I have never heard of one who could do what you do.”
“It cannot be said for certain that I’m a warlock,” Tessa said. “Charlotte says I’m not marked like a warlock would be marked.”
“Oh, you’re a warlock. Depend on it. Just because you don’t have bat ears . . .” Magnus saw Tessa frown, and raised his eyebrows. “Oh, you don’t want to be a warlock, do you? You despise the idea.”
“I just never thought . . . ,” Tessa said in a whisper. “That I was anything other than human.”
Magnus’s tone was not unsympathetic. “Poor thing. Now that you know the truth, you can never go back.”
“Leave her alone, Magnus.” Will’s tone was sharp. “I must search the room. If you won’t help, at least try not to torment Tessa while I do it.” He moved toward the big oak desk in the corner of the room and began rummaging among the papers atop it.
Magnus glanced toward Tessa and winked. “I think he’s jealous,” he said in a conspiratorial whisper.
Tessa shook her head and moved toward the nearest bookshelf. There was a book propped open on the middle shelf as if to display it. The pages were covered with bright, intricate figures, some parts of the illustrations gleaming as if they had been painted onto the parchment with gold. Tessa exclaimed in surprise. “It’s a Bible.”
“Does that astonish you?” Magnus inquired.
“I thought vampires couldn’t touch holy things.”
“It depends on the vampire—how long they’ve been alive, what kind of faith they have. De Quincey actually collects old Bibles. He says there’s hardly another book out there with so much blood on the pages.”
Tessa glanced toward the closed door. The faint swell of voices on the other side was audible. “Won’t we excite some sort of comment, hiding in here like this? The others—the vampires—I’m sure they were staring at us as we came in.”
“They were staring at Will.” In some ways Magnus’s smile was as unnerving as a vampire’s, even though he didn’t have fangs. “Will looks wrong.”
Tessa glanced over at Will, who was rummaging through the desk drawers with gloved hands. “I find that hard to credit coming from someone dressed as you are,” Will said.
Magnus ignored this. “Will doesn’t behave like the other human subjugates. He doesn’t stare at his mistress with blind adoration, for instance.”
“It’s that monstrous hat of hers,” said Will. “Puts me off.”
Clockwork Angel (The Infernal Devices #1)
Cassandra Clare's books
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- The Rise of the Hotel Dumort (The Bane Chronicles, #5)
- The Runaway Queen (The Bane Chronicles #2)
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