“That was occupying us, too,” said Alec, as they walked down the front steps.

A huge chunk of fallen marble blocked the bottom of the staircase. Malcolm was looking weary, but he and Magnus made a simultaneous gesture, and the marble began to slowly slide away.

The fading night painted the marble violet. There were still a few stragglers from the party waiting in the cobbled street outside the palazzo. Juliette gave a small cheer when she saw Alec and the others emerge. Raphael did not cheer.

“The important thing,” said Magnus, “is that I don’t think there were any casualties.”

The marble slid away, and they all saw the man lying beneath, facedown on the marble steps to the ruined mansion. He was dark-haired and middle-aged, his skin blue-tinged from the blood loss that had soaked and stiffened his clothes.

A phoenix mask was still clutched in his hand, an incongruous reminder of past festivity.

“Spoke too soon,” Malcolm said softly.

Magnus knelt down and gently turned the broken body over, though the man was long past caring. He closed the man’s open eyes.

Shinyun’s breath hissed in between her teeth.

“That’s him,” she said. “That’s Mori Shu.”

Horror washed over Alec as well. They would never get any answers from Mori Shu, lying still and silent forever in the cobbled streets.

“And he wasn’t killed by the building falling on him,” Shinyun continued, the horror in her voice turning to fury as she spoke. “He was murdered by vampires.”

They could all see the holes in his throat, the blood glimmering darkly in the moonlight. The New York vampires took several steps back.

“It wasn’t us,” said Lily, after a moment. “Let me look at the body.”

“No, Lily.” Raphael flung his hand out to arrest her step. “This has nothing to do with us. We’re leaving now.”

“They were with me,” said Alec.

“The whole night?” asked Shinyun. “Looks like he’s been dead a while.”

Alec was silent. There was blood on Elliott’s shirt, though it was not the color of human blood. The idea of a vampire feeding on someone helpless made him feel sick.

“We don’t feed on warlocks,” Lily said.

“Shut up,” Raphael snarled at her. “Don’t run your mouth in front of Nephilim!”

“Vampires don’t feed on warlocks,” said Magnus. “Nobody killed Mori Shu out of hunger. Someone killed him to silence him. Raphael and his people don’t have any reason to do that.”

“We don’t even know him,” Elliott said.

“This is literally the first time I’ve ever seen him,” said Lily.

“There were a lot of vampires on my guest list,” Malcolm remarked, “who have already left. And a lot of party crashers. Including the offensive one who sent the party crashing about our ears. I’m going to have to find a whole new palazzo for tomorrow night.”

“Tomorrow night?” Alec demanded.

“Of course,” said Malcolm. “You thought this was a one night victory party? The show must go on!”

Alec shook his head. He couldn’t imagine anyone wanting to keep partying at this point.

Shinyun was kneeling over Mori Shu’s body, searching for clues. Mori Shu had been a warlock—immortal. But no warlock was invulnerable. Any warlock could be hurt or killed.

Magnus, his silver mask pushed back into his hair, intercepted the New York vampires before they could fully depart. Alec heard Magnus pitch his voice low.

Alec felt guilty for listening in, but he couldn’t just turn off his Shadowhunter instincts.

“How are you, Raphael?” asked Magnus.

“Annoyed,” said Raphael. “As usual.”

“I’m familiar with the emotion,” said Magnus. “I experience it whenever we speak. What I meant was, I know that you and Ragnor were often in contact.”

There was a beat, in which Magnus studied Raphael with an expression of concern, and Raphael regarded Magnus with obvious scorn.

“Oh, you’re asking if I am prostrate with grief over the warlock that the Shadowhunters killed?”

Alec opened his mouth to point out the evil Shadowhunter Sebastian Morgenstern had killed the warlock Ragnor Fell in the recent war, as he had killed Alec’s own brother.

Then he remembered Raphael sitting alone and texting a number saved as RF, and never getting any texts back.

Ragnor Fell.

Alec felt a sudden and unexpected pang of sympathy for Raphael, recognizing his loneliness. He was at a party surrounded by hundreds of people, and there he sat texting a dead man over and over, knowing he’d never get a message back.

There must have been very few people in Raphael’s life he’d ever counted as friends.

“I do not like it,” said Raphael, “when Shadowhunters murder my colleagues, but it’s not as if that hasn’t happened before. It happens all the time. It’s their hobby. Thank you for asking. Of course one wishes to break down on a heart-shaped sofa and weep into one’s lace handkerchief, but I am somehow managing to hold it together. After all, I still have a warlock contact.”

Magnus inclined his head with a slight smile.

“Tessa Gray,” said Raphael. “Very dignified lady. Very well-read. I think you know her?”