“Dad,” Alec had said. “I’m going.”
A reflex response interrupted his time within his memories, as his eyes caught Magnus’s red velvet blazer flash by in the distance. Alec returned to himself and hurried in the direction he’d seen the jacket go.
When he caught up, he saw Magnus turning into a dark alley behind a row of stalls, and then a figure in a cloak appeared from a hiding place and carefully followed Magnus down the alley.
Alec did not have time to slowly follow; he’d already lost sight of Magnus and would soon lose sight of the cloaked figure as well. He broke into a run, squeezing in between a vampire and a peri locked in an embrace and pushing aside a group of werewolves rolling sticks. He reached the entrance of the alley and pressed his back against the wall. He peered around the corner and saw the figure halfway down the alley, headed for Magnus’s unprotected back.
He nocked an arrow onto his bow and swung inside the alley.
He spoke, just loud enough for his voice to carry.
“Don’t move. Turn around slowly.”
The cloaked figure froze, its hands slowly reaching outward as if to comply with his orders. Alec inched closer, moving to his left to get a better view of the person’s face. He just caught a glimpse of a narrow chin—human, a woman, by the looks of it, with a sandy complexion—when she whirled toward him, her fingers outstretched. Alec staggered backward as a bright flash slammed into him, obscuring his vision with white static, save for the woman’s shadow, a dark stamp superimposed on the dazzling light. He loosed the arrow blind, trusting his training to keep his aim steady. The arrow leaped from his bow and was about to hit its mark when she somehow blurred out of its path. “Blurring” was the only way to describe it. One moment his arrow was flying toward her, the next her silhouette had twisted and stretched and she was standing at the opposite wall of the alley.
The woman blurred again, appearing right next to him. Alec leaped away, barely avoiding the slashing blade of a sword. He blocked another attack with his bow. Adamas-treated wood clattered against metal and Alec, still half-blind, swung his bow low and hooked his assailant’s ankles, sweeping her off her feet. He raised his bow high in the air and was about to bring it down on her head when she blurred away again, this time reappearing at the entrance to the alley.
A gust howled past behind her and whipped her cloak sideways. Part of her hood flapped back, revealing the left half of her face under the light of the lamppost. A woman with deep brown eyes and thin lips. Straight shoulder-length black hair fell down the side of her face and curved around her chin. The blade she carried was a Korean samgakdo, three-sided, the kind designed to inflict irreparable damage on human flesh.
Alec squinted. Her face looked completely human, but there was something peculiar about it. It was her expression; there was a strange blankness to it, as if she were always gazing off into a faraway place.
A screech of metal grinding against brick pierced the air behind him. Alec’s attention flickered for an instant.
The mystery woman took advantage of this slight distraction. She twirled her sword over her head while calling out words in a language Alec didn’t understand, and then pointed it at him. Orange spiraling light shot from its tip, and then the ground at his feet erupted, nearly knocking him over. Alec dove away, pulled another arrow out of his quiver, and nocked it. He brought his aim up to where she had last stood, but she was gone.
Alec swept the bow across the entrance of the alley and then caught sight of his target crouching on the lip of a building ledge. He loosed the arrow and was on the move, bursting out of the alleyway almost as fast as the arrow could fly. The woman blurred and reappeared on a higher ledge of the same building. The arrow clanged against the stone. The cloaked woman jumped, rolling gracefully across the roof of a stall, and she came up running. She began to bound across the tops of the stalls.
Alec gave chase, sprinting down the path behind those stalls, jumping over garbage bags and bins of goods, ropes and stakes and crates. The woman was fast, but Alec’s speed drew from the power of angels. He was gaining.
The woman reached a dead end at the edge of the Market and blurred to the ground. She began to call out more demonic language, and the air before her shimmered and tore. The outlines of a rough Portal began to emerge.
Alec drew an arrow and held it between his fingers. He lunged at her and she turned toward him, expecting an attack. Instead the sharp edge of the arrow pierced her cloak, pinning her to the side of a Market stall.
“Got you.” Alec drew his bow fast, another arrow pointing dead center at her.
The woman shook her head. “I don’t think you do.”
He kept his eyes trained on her weapon. This was his mistake. Light blasted from her other hand and Alec felt himself flying, flailing, falling. He saw the wall barreling straight at him and twisted his body so his feet struck first. He flipped forward, landing in a crouch in the mud.
He shot up, his bow miraculously not broken, and he reflexively moved to bring it back into position. The woman—the warlock—had disappeared. All that was left were the remnants of the Portal as it closed and blinked out of existence. Alec kept his bow drawn as he pivoted in a full circle. It was only after he was sure she was gone that he let his guard down.
This woman was a warlock, but also a trained fighter. She was a serious threat.
“Magnus,” Alec breathed. It suddenly occurred to him that there was no guarantee the warlock was working alone. What if she had been trying to lure him away from Magnus? He backtracked to the alley, barreling through the narrow path, not bothering to hurdle any of the things in his way as he uprooted stakes and collapsed tents. Outraged shouts from the people of the Shadow Market followed him as he went.