Lady Midnight (The Dark Artifices 1)

"We're Nephilim," said Julian. "We're not even supposed to know about the Avengers. Besides," he added, "Iron Man is obviously the best-looking."

"Can I finish my story?" Emma demanded. "I was at the Market with Cameron, and I remember now, I saw a booth that had a placard up that said something like 'Sign Up for the Lottery.' So I think it's something supernatural, not experimental theater or whatever."

"I have no idea who the Avengers are," observed Mark, who had finished his strawberries and was eating sugar out of a packet. Ty looked gratified--he had no time for superheroes. "But I agree with you. This is a lead. Someone murdered Stanley Wells, and now his girlfriend is dead too. Even if it is in a completely different way."

"I think we can all agree it can't be a coincidence," said Emma. "Them both dying."

"I don't think it is," said Mark. "But she could have been killed because she knew something, not because she was a sacrifice like he was or part of the same ritual. Death breeds death, after all." He looked thoughtful. "She was invited to this Lottery performance. She thought it was important enough to carry the ticket around with her. I think it could be a thread to follow."

"Or it could be nothing," said Jules.

"We don't have much else to investigate," pointed out Emma.

"We do, actually," said Jules. "We've still got your photos from the inside of the cave at the convergence. And now we have whoever was at Wells's house and shot at me--we've still got my gear jacket with whatever poison he used on it. Maybe Malcolm could look into that, find out if it's associated with a particular demon or warlock who might sell it."

"Great," Emma said. "We can do both. August eleventh is tomorrow night." She frowned at the ticket. "Oh God, semiformal. Fancy. I don't think I have any dresses that fancy, and Mark will need a suit. . . ."

"Mark doesn't have to go," Julian said quickly. "He can stay at the Institute."

"No," Mark said. His voice was calm, but his eyes sparked. "I will not. I was brought here to help you investigate these murders, and that is what I will do."

Julian sat back. "Not if we can't rune you. It's not safe."

"I have protected myself without runes for many years. If I do not go with you, then those in Faerie who sent me here will learn of it, and they will not be pleased. The punishment will be severe."

"Oh, let him go," Livvy said, looking anxious. "Jules--"

Julian touched the edge of his shirt, the gesture half-unconscious. "How will they know to punish you," he said, "if you don't tell them?"

"You think it is easy to lie when you have grown up around people who do not lie?" Mark said, cheeks flushing with anger. "And do you think they do not have their own ways to ferret out lies when humans tell them?"

"You're human," Julian said hotly. "You're not one of them, you don't act like one of them--"

Mark flung himself up from the table and stalked across the room.

"What's he doing?" Emma stared. Mark had made his way to a neighboring table of pierced and tattooed mundane girls who looked like they'd just come from a nightclub and were giggling madly as he talked to them.

"By the Angel." Julian threw down some money on the table and scrambled to his feet, ducking out of the booth. Emma scraped everything back into Ava's handbag and hastily followed Julian, the others at her heels.

"Might I make free with your lettuce, my lady?" Mark was saying to a girl with bright pink hair and a pile of salad on her plate. She pushed it toward him, grinning.

"You're gorgeous," she said. "Even with the fake elf ears. Forget the lettuce, you can make free with my--"

"All right, you've made your point, enough." Julian took Mark--who was cheerfully eating a baby carrot--by the wrist and tried to draw him toward the door. "Sorry, ladies," he said as a chorus of protests rose.

The girl with pink hair stood up. "If he wants to stay, he can stay," she said. "Who are you, anyway?"

"I'm his brother," Julian said.

"Boy, do you two not look alike," she said in a way that made Emma bristle. She'd called Mark gorgeous--Julian was just as gorgeous, just in a quieter, less flashy way. He didn't have Mark's sharp cheekbones or faerie charm, but he had luminous eyes and a beautiful mouth that--

She goggled at herself. What was wrong with her? What was wrong with her thoughts?

Livvy made an exasperated noise, stomped forward, and seized Mark by the back of the shirt. "You don't want him," she said to the pink-haired girl. "He has syphilis."

The girl stared. "Syphilis?"

"Five percent of people in America have it," said Ty helpfully.

"I do not have syphilis," Mark said angrily. "There are no sexually transmitted diseases in Faerieland!"

The mundane girls fell instantly silent.

"Sorry," Jules said. "You know how syphilis is. Attacks the brain." The table of girls were open-mouthed as Livvy hauled Mark by his shirt through the restaurant and into the parking lot, the rest of them following.

The moment they were outside and the door had closed behind them, Emma burst out laughing. She leaned against Cristina, who was also giggling, as Livvy let go of Mark and smoothed down her skirt, looking unruffled. "Sorry," Emma said. "It's just--syphilis?"

"Ty was reading about it today," said Livvy.

Julian, who had been trying to hide a smile, looked over at Ty. "Why have you been reading about syphilis?"

Ty shrugged. "Research."

"Was that really necessary?" Mark demanded. "I was merely making conversation. I thought I would practice my gentry speech on them."

"You were being ridiculous on purpose," said Emma. "I'm beginning to get the feeling you think faeries sound silly."

"I did at first," said Mark candidly. "Then you get used to it. Now . . . Now I don't know what to think." He sounded a little lost.

"We're not supposed to talk to mundanes," Julian said, his smile vanishing. "It's--it's basic, Mark. One of the first things we learn. Especially not about things like Faerieland."

"I spoke to those mundanes, and no one exploded or caught on fire," said Mark. "No doom came down upon us. They thought I was wearing a costume." He ducked his head, then looked up at Julian. "You are right that I will stand out, but people see what they want to see."

"Maybe the rules about not going out in battle without runes are stupid rules," said Ty, and Emma thought of the way Mark had spoken to Ty in the training room. Now we both have hurt hands.

"Maybe a lot of the rules are stupid rules," said Julian, and there was an edge of bitterness to his voice that surprised Emma. "Maybe we just have to follow them anyway. Maybe that's what makes us Shadowhunters."

Livvy looked puzzled. "Having to follow stupid rules makes us Shadowhunters?"

"Not the rules," said Julian. "The penalty for breaking them."

"The penalty for breaking the rules of Faerie are just as severe, if not more so," said Mark. "You must trust me on this, Julian. If they think I am not part of the investigation, they will punish not just me, but also all of you. They do not require me to tell them. They will know." His eyes burned. "You understand me?"

"I understand, Mark. And I trust you." Julian smiled at his brother, then, unexpectedly, that smile that was all the more bright for its unpredictability. "Anyway. Everyone into the car, okay? We're heading back."

"I must return with the steed," said Mark. "I cannot leave him--it--here. If it were lost, the Wild Hunt would take it amiss."

"Fine," said Julian. "Take it back alone. Ty and Livvy aren't getting onto it again, understood? Too dangerous."

Livvy looked disappointed, Ty relieved. Mark nodded almost imperceptibly.

"I'll go with Mark," Cristina said suddenly. Emma saw Mark's face light up in a way that surprised her.

"I shall fetch the steed," Mark said. "I find I desire to fly."

"And go the speed limit!" Julian yelled as Mark disappeared around the side of the building.

"It's the sky, Julian," said Emma. "There isn't really a speed limit

."

"I know," he said, and smiled. It was the smile Emma loved, the one she felt like was just for her, the one that said that although life often forced him to be serious, Julian wasn't actually serious by nature. She wanted to hug him suddenly or touch his shoulder, so badly that she forced her hands down and clasped them together. She looked down at her fingers; for some reason she had intertwined them, as if they made a cage that would hold her feelings in.