Vampires, Scones, and Edmund Herondale (The Bane Chronicles 3)

"No ones ever really hurt you, have they?" said Magnus, who saw no point in beating about the bush.

Edmund looked alarmed. "Why, are you about to?"

"With all those whips on your person? Hardly. I merely meant that you seem like someone who has never had his heart broken. "

"I lost my parents as a child," said Edmund candidly. "But rare is the Shadowhunter with an intact family. I was taken in by the Fairchilds and raised in the Institute. Its halls have ever been my home. And if you mean love, then no, my heart has never been broken. Nor do I foresee that it will be. "

"Dont you believe in love?"

"Love, marriage, the whole business is extremely overrated. For instance, this chap I know called Benedict Lightwood recently got leg-shackled, and the affair is hideous-"

"Your friends moving forward into a different era of their lives can be difficult,"

Magnus said sympathetically.

Edmund made a face. "Benedict is not my friend. Its the poor young lady I feel sorry for. The man is peculiar in his habits, if you see what Im trying to say. "

"I dont," Magnus said noindentatly.

"Bit of a deviant, is what Im getting at. "

Magnus regarded him with a cold air.

"Bad News Benedict, we call him," said Edmund. "Mostly due to his habit of consorting with demons. The more tentacles, the better, if you catch my meaning. "

"Oh," Magnus said, enlightened. "I know who you mean. I have a friend from whom he bought some most unusual woodcuts. Also a couple of engravings. Said friend is simply an honest tradesman, and I have never bought anything from him myself, mind you. "

"Also Benedict Lightworm. And Bestial Benedict," Edmund continued bitterly. "But he sneaks about while the rest of us get up to honest larks, and the Clave all think that hes superlatively well behaved. Poor Barbara. Im afraid she acted hastily because of her broken heart. "

Magnus leaned back in his chair. "And who broke her heart, might I ask?" he asked, amused.

"Ladies hearts are like bits of china on a mantelpiece. There are so many of them, and it is so easy to break them without noticing. " Edmund shrugged, a little rueful but mostly amused, and then a man in an unfortunate waistcoat walked into his armchair.

"I beg your pardon," said the gentleman. "I believe I am somewhat foxed!"

"I am prepared to charitably believe you were drunk when you got dressed," Magnus said under his breath.

"Eh?" said the man. "The names Alvanley. You aint one of those Indian nabobs, are you?"

Though he never much felt like explaining his origins to white-skinned Europeans who didnt care to know the difference between Shanghai and Rangoon, given the troubles in India, it was not actually a good idea for Magnus to be taken for Indian. He sighed and disclaimed, made his introduction and his bow.

"Herondale," said Edmund, bowing too. Edmunds golden assurance and open smile did their work.

"New to the club?" Alvanley asked, suddenly benevolent. "Well, well. Its a celebration. May I offer you both another drink?"

Alvanleys friends, some at the card table and some milling about, raised a discreet cheer. Queen Victoria had, so the happy report went, risen safe from childbed, and both mother and daughter were doing admirably.

"Drink to the health of our new Princess Beatrice, and to the queen!"

"Doesnt the poor woman have nine children?" asked Magnus. "By the ninth I would think she would be too exhausted to think of a new name, and certainly too fatigued to rule a country. I will drink to her health by all means. "

Edmund was very ready to be plied with more drinks, though at one point he slipped up and referred to the queen as Vanessa rather than Victoria.

"Ahahaha," said Magnus. "He is on the ran-tan, and no mistake!"

Edmund was noindentushed with drink and almost immediately got absorbed in a card game. Magnus joined in playing Macao as well, but he found himself observing the Shadowhunter with some concern. People who blithely believed that the world owed them good luck could be dangerous at the gaming table. Add to that the fact that Edmund clearly craved excitement, and his kind of temperament was the very one most suited for disaster at play. There was something unsettling about the glitter of the boys eyes suddenly, changed by the light of the clubs wax candles, from being like a sky to being like a sea an instant before a storm.

Edmund, Magnus decided, put him in mind of nothing so much as a boat-a shining beautiful thing, buffeted by the whims of the water and winds. Only time would tell if he would find anchor and harbor, or if all that beauty and charm would be reduced to a wreck.

All imaginings aside, there was no need for Magnus to play nursemaid to Shadowhunters. Edmund was a man full-grown and able to care for himself. It was Magnus who grew bored in the end, and coaxed Edmund out of Whites for a sobering walk in the night air.

break

They had not wandered far from St. Jamess Street when Magnus paused in his retelling of a certain incident in Peru because he felt Edmund come to attention next to him, every line of that angelic athletes body suddenly tensed. He brought to mind forcibly a pointer dog hearing an animal in the undergrowth.

Magnus followed the line of Edmunds sight until he saw what the Shadowhunter was seeing: a man in a bowler hat, his hand set firmly on a carriage door, having what appeared to be an altercation with the occupants of the carriage.

It was shockingly uncivil, and but a moment later it became worse. The man had hold of a womans arm, Magnus saw. She was dressed plainly, as befit an abigail or ladys maid. The man tried to wrench her from the carriage by main force.

He would have succeeded but for the interference of the other occupant of the carriage, a small dark lady, this one in a gown that rustled like silk as her voice rang out like thunder.

"Unhand her, you wretch!" said the lady, and she belabored the man about the head with her bonnet.

The man started at the unexpected onslaught and let go of the woman, but turned his attention to the lady and grasped the hand holding the bonnet instead. The woman gave a shout that seemed more outrage than terror, and struck him in the nose. The mans face turned slightly at the blow, and Magnus and Edmund were both able to see his eyes.

There was no mistaking the void behind those brilliant poison-green eyes. Demon, Magnus thought. A demon, and a hungry one, to be trying to abduct women from carriages in a London street.

A demon, and a very unlucky one, to do so in front of a Shadowhunter.

It did occur to Magnus that Shadowhunters generally hunted in groups, and that Edmund Herondale was inebriated.

"Very well," Magnus said. "Let us pause for a moment and consider- Oh, you have already run off. Splendid. "