Aspen forced herself to breathe naturally even though her heart was trying to pound its way out of her chest as she laid on her back, staring up at the night sky. Just be cool, Herondale. She casually wiggled a bit, pretending to get more comfortable on one of the white sheets she had swiped from the manor as she edged closer to the boy laying next to her.

Tea lights flickered dimly in cut crystal tumblers she had 'borrowed' from a cabinet filled with tableware and glasses, and she wondered idly how hard it would be to get any errant wax out of them before Sera and Rayce noticed. The dozen or so candles circled their patch of grass near the edge of the Morgenstern property on a small rise that faced west and overlooked a bit of the apple orchard that had grown wild during the decades the manor had lain dormant. She felt slightly smug about finding a bag of the tea lights on a sideboard earlier in the evening. She told herself that it was a clear sign that some higher power wanted her date to go well.

Date. A flutter went through her stomach.

"...and that's Andromeda," Lucas said as he pointed at a constellation overhead, the stars unbelievably clear in Idris as they could never be in Santa Barbara. "She was the daughter of King Cepheus and Queen Cassiopeia. Her mom bragged about being more beautiful than the sea nymphs, which pissed off Poseidon. He sent the giant sea monster, Cetus, to flood their lands, and then some oracles told the King that he had to sacrifice his daughter to the beast to stop the devastation."

"That sucks," Aspen commented, trying to bring herself back into the present and out of her daydreams. "Why do the daughters always get screwed in these stories?"

Lucas laughed and it sent a thrill through her. Guys were not supposed to have that kind of low, throaty laugh. It wasn't fair. Why didn't he sound like an idiot, like Hunter?

"Actually, it works out pretty well for her." He rolled over onto his elbows and the candlelight played off one side of his face, drawing out his gorgeous colouring. "She gets rescued by a hero named Perseus and they get married. Happily ever after."

Yes, please.

She tried to stay focused. "Do you have a favourite?"

He bit his lip while he thought and Aspen screamed internally.

"Yeah, I think so. But you can't really see it from here at this time of year. I know the 'real' story for it, but I think I like the one my dad told me better. It's for the Gemini constellation." He picked at some crumbs that had fallen on the sheet from their late-night dessert, pilfered cheesecake. Aspen fleetingly wondered how badly Sera was going to murder her for swiping the leftovers. Pay attention! "If you read the Greek story, it says it was named for the famous twins, Castor and Pollux. When Castor died as a mortal, Pollux begged Zeus to give him immortality, and so they were united in the Heavens forever."

Aspen rolled up to her elbows as well so that their shoulders were nearly touching. "What's your dad's version?"

"He says the one he learned was older than the Greek story. He said it was about the Great Twins, Meshlamtaea and Lugalirra, which meant 'The One Who Has Arisen From The Underworld' and 'The Mighty King'. It's kinda long, but the gist of it is that their people are threatened by a terrible sickness of the land, and Meshlamtaea volunteers to sacrifice himself to end their suffering by cleansing the earth with his immortal blood. Lugalirra cannot bear to let him go, and secretly takes his place so that his brother can live."

Her eyes drank in the lines of his face and the curve of his shoulder in the muscle shirt he was wearing. He wasn't stacked like Hunter, but she was definitely appreciative of his runner's build. Further on the topic of things that aren't fair, why does he have to be so deep?

Electing not to ask her unspoken question in exactly those words, Aspen blinked and tried not to wonder if her mouth was hanging open or not. "How do you know so much about this stuff?"

In response, Lucas grinned sheepishly. "My dad. He tells us all these stories; I guess now I know where the 'older' stories come from." He ran a hand back through his black hair, spiking up the front again. "I figure they're probably like, Faerie versions of our stuff, you know? Or I guess..." He frowned. "Our stories are probably more like Mundane versions of their stuff... I don't know. Dad's kind of obsessed with stars."

He gave her an embarrassed, sideways grin that tried to apologize for his dad's weirdness, but she just shook her head and nudged her shoulder into his.

"At least stars are cool. It could be worse. Your dad could be obsessed with ducks, like mine."

Lucas burst out laughing. "Ducks?!"

She laughed with him and shrugged. "Yeah. I don't get it either."

When they had recovered from the absurdity of a full-grown man having a full-blown case of anatidaephobia, Aspen decided to veer the conversation away from her father and back toward the deliciously-attractive guy whose face was all too close to hers now. She tried not to imagine what it would be like to just lean... in... a little...

"So..." She ducked her head a bit and looked back at him through a few strands of gold-blond hair. "What are you into?"

He gave her a seductive grin. "Besides you?"

Aspen's heart flip-flopped in her chest. Are. You. SERIOUS? Her internal screaming intensified.

"Wow... just wow," she stammered. "Are you always this smooth?"

"Nope. Just for you." He winked wickedly.

WAS THAT A HINT? SHOULD I JUST DO IT? WHAT DO I DO? OH, RAZIEL, HE'S WAITING FOR ME TO SAY SOMETHING!

She took a quick breath and then leaned forward to kiss him without another thought. His lips were warm under hers, and she could taste a hint of sweetness from the strawberries on the cheesecake. She felt him inhale in surprise, and then he was kissing her back, and she was dying.

His hand came up to brush back her hair and his cool fingertips trailed along the side of her face, setting it afire as she blushed madly in response. She felt his lips part slightly and she tried to remember how to breathe as her mouth haltingly yielded to his lead. OhmigodamIdoingthisrightwheredoesmynosego??

Lucas pulled back slowly, unable and unwilling to hide his amused smile as he broke their first kiss more out of necessity than desire.

"Aspen... are you hyperventilating?"

The Shadowhunter giggled nervously in between pants and rolled off her elbows back onto the sheet so that she could have an excuse to look away from him. The night air was refreshingly cool on her flaming-hot face. Holy hell.

"Um..." She didn't think her cheeks could get any redder, and she briefly considered accidentally-on-purpose knocking over some of the glasses that held the tea lights to give herself a bit more cover under darkness. But I'll probably just end up burning down the orchard or something instead. She swallowed nervously. "Would it be sad if I said that was kind of my first kiss?"

Lucas did a double take. "Not at all. In fact," he said slowly as he crawled toward her on his elbows, "I'm actually pretty happy that you said 'first'. That implies that there will be a second... and a third..." He skimmed his fingers down the inside of her forearm until he could lift her hand to his lips. She began to seriously worry about spontaneous combustion. It could be possible.

The sensual curve of his upper lip twisted up for a moment. "Maybe I should be grateful to the moose for keeping guys away from you for so long."

She turned her head to frown at him. "You can't call Hunter a moose."

"No? Maybe some other big, dumb animal?" He thought for a moment. "What about a llama?"

Aspen pushed herself back up to one elbow and got a grip on her giddiness. "Seriously, Lucas. He's my best friend and my parabatai. We're a package deal. If you want to be with me then you guys are gonna have to be friends."

He leaned in and brushed a kiss across her still-burning cheek and whispered in her ear, "Worth it." He drew back to gauge her reaction to his advance and saw the stunned expression on her face. Quite independently of her, he also started worrying about the possibility of spontaneous human combustion. He decided to diffuse a bit of the tension. "Besides, I could get used to having a pet moose."

With a playful shove, Aspen steered the conversation away from her parabatai. "So, aside from me, what else are you into?"

"Ah," he sighed, dropping back to lay on the sheet next to her. "I'm a huge fan of classic rock. Have you ever heard of this old band called The Mortal Instruments? Their drummer, Eric Hillchurch, is a god. I wish I..." He trailed off when she started howling with laughter, his face twisted into a bewildered stare. "What's so funny?"

Later, in front of the door to Aspen's guest bedroom in the manor, a courtesy she and Hunter had been extended by Sera and Rayce while they helped with the restorations, Lucas jammed his hands in his pockets and casually leaned against the door frame.

"Thanks for taking me out tonight... it's been kinda messed up for the last few days and it was nice to get out for a bit." He threw a glance down the empty hall toward where the impressive variety of other house guests were no doubt slumbering away behind closed doors. "It's kinda... tense."

Arynessa had been put up in a room that was as far away from Sera as possible, leaving her in the east wing with Zeke, albeit in separate rooms. Lucas' family was in the west wing near Sera and Rayce, and he had to admit that he had caught himself staring at the Faerie Queen even as she stared at his father. She had called him 'Nerissa's son' in the kitchen, and Lucas had a feeling there was more going on there than he could understand. He knew it was making his father uncomfortable, especially since his mother didn't seem to approve of the Queen for some reason. It seemed complicated.

"Psh," Aspen said dismissively. "Don't worry about it. My family has a long history of saving the world - they'll figure it out."

Lucas sighed internally. These... Shadowhunters... were so different. He looked into her golden-hued eyes and felt the same tug in his chest that had been pulling at him from the minute they had locked eyes. What was it about her?

He cocked his head to one side. "Have you?"

"Have I what?"

"Saved the world?"

She gave him a devilish grin and darted forward to give him a quick peck on the cheek. "Not yet. Good night, Lucas."

"Good night, Aspen."

Lucas let his eyes linger on her as she slipped into her room and closed the door with a giggle, and then he sank back against the wall as he exhaled shallowly. He wondered what it would have been like if he had grown up as one of them, if he could so casually discuss saving the world. Before that Faerie had taken his family captive, his biggest problem had been how he was going to pass calculus next year.

If he could be really honest with himself in his heart of hearts, a very tiny part of him was glad that it had happened. He felt terrible about his sister's hands, but the cuts had been cleaned and dressed, and she was already starting to heal. She would probably have scars, but nothing more serious. If the Faerie hadn't come, he might never have found out about his parents' other life. Now that he had... he never wanted to leave.

"Hey, bro," a voice called quietly from down the hall.

Lucas turned and found Hunter padding toward him silently. Man, I wish I could do that. He remembered Aspen's warning that he would have to be friends with Hunter if he wanted to date her, and he stopped himself from responding with a curt, 'I'm not your bro.' "What's up?"

Hunter's teeth gleamed when he flashed him a smile. "Nice night for a walk." He pulled out a pocket and knife and ran the edge under one of his nails.

"Uhh... yeah. I guess." Lucas eyed the small blade. It didn't look deadly... He edged past the bigger guy, intent on making it back to his room before he got shanked.

"Sleep tight," Hunter bade him darkly.

Yep... with one eye open. "You too," he replied unsteadily when he was safely out of melee range.

"And Lucas?"

The Mundane turned questioningly.

"I'm not a moose."

Rayce finished lighting the last of the tea lights on the bedside tables and stepped back to admire his handy work. The bed was turned down, the pillows were fluffed up, and he had a bottle of white wine from the abandoned wine cellar under the manor chilling in an ice bucket next to a pair of glasses. He paused for a moment. Does she even like white? What if she likes red? He gasped when his thoughts jogged one more step forward. The babes! Footsteps were approaching on the other side of the door, and he quickly stashed the bucket behind the black, floor-length curtains that were tied back from the open windows with braided cords. He tried not to look guilty when Sera opened the door and froze on the threshold.

"What...?" She took in the candles, the bed, and her somewhat sheepish-looking husband. "What's all this?"

He casually strode away from the curtains. "I know it's been hard to sneak some time to ourselves with a house full of guests, but..." He shrugged. "I did marry you, and I still want to fulfil my husbandly duties. You deserved a better honeymoon than this."

Sera smiled seductively. "Is that so?" She pushed the door closed behind her with one foot. "Because I can think of one particular husbandly duty that I'd like to make use of..."

The candles burned steadily, and Rayce congratulated himself on finding them the previous day. When he had seen Aspen sneaking around and gathering what was clearly intended to be late-night picnic materials, he had surreptitiously left the bag where he knew she would find them. The more time she spent courting Lucas, the less time she would spend panting after him. He regretted sacrificing the leftover cheesecake to the cause, but he figured it was well-spent. The real trick would be convincing Sera of that.

He held out his hand to her and slipped his other around her waist to guide them in a slow circle to music only he could hear, moving as if they had danced together for ages. His eyes closed lightly and Sera saw a small smile creep up the left side of his face.

"Where are you right now?" She whispered.

"Back at our wedding," he murmured, "before we ever touched the gifts. We could have danced until dawn."

Sera felt slightly envious of his Court training, but grateful, as he effortlessly led them in a tight box. The soft glow threw shadows from their inherited Morgenstern furniture across the room, the graceful lines of the four-poster bed carved with falling stars that spiralled down the dark walnut piece left silhouetted against the soft grey walls. It was hard not to quietly eye the bed, but she stubbornly refused to ruin this for him. He seemed so... at peace.

"Then what?"

He nuzzled his temple into her hair gently. "Then I would have carried you off like I was supposed to. Wherever you wanted. What do you see when you think of a honeymoon?"

"A beach," she sighed back. "Sand and sun, sea breeze and drinks... probably an exceedingly minimal dress code..." She winced internally. "Maybe scratch the drinks for now, all things considered."

Rayce paused to lift her chin, his eyes alight with concern. "Sera, I promise, we-"

A quick ratta-tatta knock on their door cut him off.

Sera swore under her breath and muttered to the obviously-deaf gods who were watching over her, "Are you serious right now?" She disentangled herself from Rayce and wrenched the door open a bit more forcibly than necessary.

Jace bounced up and down on his toes energetically, a little breathless with excitement. It took him a fraction of a second to register the candlelight and the carefully arranged bed. He blinked.

"Am I interrupting something?"

"Usually," Sera answered through clenched teeth.

"Ah... sorry about that." He ran his left hand back through his hair and gave her an apologetic smile. "I need to borrow Rayce."

Rayce came to the door curiously. "For what?" Sera was pretty sure that neither of them heard her mutter, 'Now?' under her breath.

"I just got a message from the Scholomance - the Centurions finally managed to bag a pair of Hunters. They're being held for interrogation, and I figured you're kind of our go-to guy for all things Hunt-related right now. I need you to come with me and see if you can catch them lying by omission, or spinning half-truths, or whatever else they do to twist their words. We have to learn as much as we can if we're going to have any hope of tracking down the others."

Rayce bit the inside of his lip and looked to Sera for her opinion. He didn't dare to suggest that Mark go in his place; it was bad enough that Fiorinor had found the Unbound, no need to drag him in deeper. Sera lifted her eyebrow at him in return.

"If you're going, I'm going."

"Oh, excellent," Jace said brightly. "It'll be a sort-of honeymoon for you guys! The castle really has this Gothic-romance vibe once you get used to it. We have to leave quickly, though; the access window they gave me for the Portal there won't last long, and you definitely don't want to make the walk from outside the wards." He turned on his heel and hurried back down the hall, still carrying on, "It's freezing up in the mountains at night, and the passes probably still have snow..."

Sera squeezed her eyes shut. "No," she said quietly. "That's the exact opposite of a honeymoon." She shot a pained look at Rayce. "How is he still married?"

He shrugged back. "My aunt is a saint."

Less than ten minutes later, they were steadying themselves after stepping through a Portal that took them into the depths of the Scholomance. A familiar dark-haired man was waiting for them, and his eye widened in surprise when he saw the two younger Nephilim emerge after Jace.

"Sera, Rayce," Diego greeted them cordially, "I wasn't expecting you."

Jace gave him a smug look and tapped his finger to his temple knowingly. "I thought it might be good to have an expert along. Betcha didn't think about that, Rosales."

"Indeed," the Executor answered dryly. "I was too concerned with how unbelievably tactless I would seem if I interrupted them during what should be a joyous time in their lives. How silly of me." He nodded to the couple. "Congratulations, by the way."

"Thanks." Sera gave Jace a very pointed look and left him standing with his mouth hanging open as she turned to follow Diego.

Witchlight burned with a cold, pale, light in iron brackets that may have once held torches in another era along the dark stone walls. Frost grew in damp patches that mottled the long corridor, and Sera could see her breath when she exhaled. She wrapped her arms around herself and rubbed the sleeves of her thin, zip-up sweater. There hadn't been much to choose from in the way of warm clothes in the manor, given that she had barely moved in a summer wardrobe, let alone a winter one. She had belted on Heosphoros, and was pleased with the satisfying weight of it on one hip. It felt like it had always been there. Rayce wore his distinctive double-bladed staff across his back as always. Well, at least we have our wardrobe priorities straight.

Diego led them deeper under the castle that served as both barracks and school for the fabled Centurions, their order resurrected a quarter-century earlier in the aftermath of the Dark War. Their jurisdiction incorporated anything that related to the Fey, and on occasion, they had been used to conduct internal investigations within the Clave. It was rare for outsiders to be invited within its walls.

Diego pushed open an iron-banded door that looked to be made of solid oak, its ancient face studded in even lines of reinforcement. Inside the dimly-lit interior, the far wall was dominated by a wide panel of partitioned two-way glass that looked into what appeared to be three separate holding cells. A long desk sat underneath the window, and a few rolling office chairs were scattered in front of the pages and pages of reports neatly organized across the tabletop. Only one of the chairs was occupied at the moment, and the man rose swiftly when Diego entered.

"Executor," he murmured respectfully. Sera eyed his unruly dark hair and caught a quick glimpse of stormy grey eyes before he looked away almost restlessly, avoiding eye contact with the new arrivals. He folded his left hand behind his back while his right hand slipped a thin chain out of his pocket. He started cycling the links through his thumb and forefinger idly, a slow, steady movement that he didn't even seem to be aware of as he traced the smooth edges of each one and moved on to the next.

With an open palm, Diego bid the two younger Nephilim to come forward. "It's my pleasure to introduce Sera and Rayce Morgenstern." He gestured to the Shadowhunter standing in front of the desk. "This is Tiberius Blackthorn, the Centurion who was able to track down and capture our two errant Hunters in Prague."

Rayce offered his hand in greeting, but the other man made no move to take it. Rayce felt his heart sink. Not everyone will accept a Morgenstern. He let his hand fall uncertainly. "Blackthorn? Like Mark?"

The Centurion's eyes narrowed. "How do you know about my brother? No one is supposed to know. The Clave said so." His words were curt, and Rayce felt the sting.

"It's a bit of a long story, Ty," Jace cut in gently, "but-"

"He saved my life," Rayce answered quietly as he met the Centurion's challenging stare. "He knew... knows... what it means to serve the Hunt, and he defended me from those who could not understand what I had to do to answer the call of the Eternal Forest."

Ty scrutinized Rayce, staring hard at the pair of dark green eyes below the shock of white hair, and he slowly shook his head in denial. "Your eyes are the same colour. My brother's are different."

Rayce found Sera's hand and squeezed it. "I was freed."

"Faeries don't give back what they take," Ty whispered stubbornly. "We tried. We tried so hard." He blinked rapidly for a moment, trying to digest what it all meant. "But if what you say is true, then there's a way. You can free him, too. Fully. Not like the other Unbound." He nodded his head back toward the brightly-lit rooms on the other side of the two-way glass.

A strained silence passed between the four newcomers and Ty as each of them sent silent looks to the others. They had been on Wrangel Island, had seen what Sera and Rayce had had to do to open up the window of opportunity and snatch him back from the other side of the veil. It could never be repeated.

Diego assumed control once more. "It was a unique situation, and cannot be replicated for your brother. I'm sorry, Ty. We should focus on learning what we can from these Hunters. Rayce has kindly agreed to sit in and listen for what we may be missing in between the words they speak. He may be able to use his inside knowledge of the Hunt to catch any evasions."

Ty's breathing quickened and he looked away, frustrated, and Sera watched curiously as the previously slow stroking of the chain links sped up as well. She felt Jace lightly touch the back of her arm, and he gave her the faintest shake of his head, silently asking her to wait. Diego stood patiently with his hands laced behind his back.

It didn't take long for Ty to recover his composure. He turned his back on them and moved closer to the glass, his shoulders set rigidly as he braced himself on his palms. The four Shadowhunters followed his lead and looked through the windows into the three rooms that were partitioned off on the other side. The centre cell was empty, but they could see a Faerie crouched in the left chamber, huddled against the side wall and wrapped in chains like Marley's ghost. His long black hair was slashed through with dull silver streaks, and it hung in a tangle around his naked shoulders. He had been stripped to his small clothes to remove the danger of any hidden weapons, revealing a body that was smooth and unmarred by the scars that so typically marked those who served the Eternal Forest. The Hunter had his head down, buried under his arms as if to block out the harsh witchlight that illuminated the inside of the cell.

"I thought you said you got a pair," Jace pointed out.

Ty leaned in toward the glass on the right side of the desk and pointed straight down. "This one prefers to stay out of sight as much as possible." Diego hung back, but the other three followed Ty's example and peered downward, their faces almost pressed to the glass to get a look at the second Hunter.

Rayce hissed in disapproval when he saw the black and midnight-blue hair, the dusky skin. "Azad."

The Executor nodded encouragingly. "You know this one?"

"Know of," Rayce clarified. "My time with the Hunt was short, but I still have Gwyn's fading memories of the others, passed on to me through the mantle we both shared."

"That's intense," Jace breathed. "How much can you remember as him?"

A dark shadow passed behind Rayce's eyes and he closed them for a moment. He exhaled. "Too much. Not enough." He shrugged helplessly. "It comes and goes."

Diego lifted his chin to the glass on the left. "And the other?"

The half-Faerie moved down the desk, past the painstakingly-organized reports that were laid out, and he narrowed his eyes at the second figure. He reached absently for Gwyn in his mind. What do you see? The big Faerie had been silent since vanishing with Veralysia from the Nightlands, and Rayce was beginning to suspect that whatever live connection they had shared had dissolved as well. All that remained now were the remnants of the past that had been transferred with the cloak. No help from him anymore. As much as he had wanted Gwyn and Sebastian to leave him alone before, they had been useful from time to time.

The Hunter in the far cell shifted to find a more comfortable position, and Rayce heard the clank of the chains as they slid across the stone floor. The long lengths of links were secured to a pin in the wall that would only allow a modicum of free movement, but it was enough slack to be concerned if anyone had to go into the room with him. Rayce knew all too well how dangerous the Hunters could be in close quarters.

As if sensing the scrutiny, the second Faerie lifted his face to stare into what would only appear to be a mirror on his side. One dead black eye and a brilliant teal one burned with an intensity that startled Rayce. Hatred smouldered in that gaze, rage and anger that promised retribution.

And yet... Rayce strained at the edges of his own memories and Gwyn's, reaching for any recollection of the Hunter who had been brought low by the strange Centurion. Scores of condemned Faeries had been sentenced to serve the Hunt over the centuries, and dozens had survived to ride under Rayce's command. But...

"This one has never ridden with the Hunt," Rayce exclaimed in a low voice, shaken by his own certainty. Neither he nor Gwyn had any recollection of the Faerie who stared so balefully back at where his captors were hidden.

Diego cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Surely, you must be mistaken. His eyes..." The Executor gestured toward the cells. "Those chains are cold iron. If he were not a Hunter, he would be in agony right now."

Shaking his head slowly, Rayce couldn't take his eyes off the Faerie behind the glass. There wasn't a shadow of doubt in his mind. It was no accident that he had taken note of the other man's unblemished body; no Hunter remained unscathed for long. His stomach lurched as one of Gwyn's memories of Mark's bloodied face surfaced. Too many of them liked to play violent games. He reflected again on what little he knew of Azad, of how the Unseelie had kept himself apart from the others, content to observe and mark the movements of all the other players. What had he seen? Rayce felt a sinking sensation in his gut.

"I need to speak to him."

Ty's brow furrowed. "I thought you were here to listen. This is my investigation - I'm the one who figured out where to find them and how to capture them once I did."

"Ty," Diego warned. "Rayce is here as a courtesy, and you would do well to remember that. You may go with him if you wish."

The younger Centurion scowled and shoved away from the desk to leave the room and circle around to the doors that led into the cells from the other side. He snatched up a meticulously-carved quarterstaff from where it was resting against the wall near the iron-banded door.

Sera watched him go suspiciously and then grabbed a handful of Rayce's shirt before he could follow. "I don't like this. Let him ask whatever questions you have."

"This is my mess, Sera," he told her gently. "I have to clean it up." She rolled her eyes and started to protest, but he laid a finger across her lips. "I know you're going to try to say that it's your fault for freeing me, but I'm the one who was dumb enough to get caught in the first place. But it all happened for a reason. If the wards are healed now, then we just need to take care of the monsters left inside them to be able to move on." He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her forehead. "My brother, the Hunters, even my sister... I'm the connection, Sera. I can't just stand aside and let others fight in my place."

She groaned under her breath. "If you could just have a bit more of that trademark Morgenstern selfishness right now, that'd be great."

"What?" He gave her a look of bewilderment and she felt her face flush in response.

"Nothing. Go, but be quick, okay?"

He nodded once, confusion still playing across his face, and then he turned to follow the same path Ty had taken.

Jace pulled out a chair and offered it to Sera. "He'll be alright." He threw himself into one of the others so that it sailed all the way to the right side of the desk and then he swivelled to watch through the glass.

"That guy... Ty..." Sera began hesitantly. "Is he...?" She didn't know how to ask her question delicately, and Diego spared her the trouble.

"He's the best investigator we've ever had at the Scholomance. That's all that matters." His tone of finality brooked no further curiosity on the subject, and Sera backed off guiltily and took the proffered chair. What the hell is wrong with me? She shook her head and started to wonder just how much her poor sleep and bad dreams were starting to affect her.

Through the glass, Sera watched as the door on the far side of the cell opened to admit Rayce and Ty, and the Centurion quickly secured it behind them after entering. His distrustful eyes flickered calculatingly between the other two as he took their measure.

Azad looked up when he heard the squeal of the hinges, and no matter how much practice he had had during his nearly four centuries in this world, even he was unable to mask his surprise at seeing Rayce once more.

"The prodigal son returns," the Hunter greeted him cryptically.

Rayce narrowed his eyes in response. "I think the time for playing games has passed, Azad. You've backed yourself into a corner and now there's nowhere left to hide. Your only chance for leniency now is to tell the truth." He didn't pause or otherwise tip his hand. He knew that if he wanted to catch the Hunter off balance, he had to act like he already knew the answers. His brother's old lessons came creeping back. "How long did it take you to Turn him?"

The faint smile on Azad's face was all the confirmation Rayce needed. The sinking feeling grew into a gnawing pit inside of him, but he kept his face still and willed his breathing to remain steady. Since the inception of the Hunt, only its commander had held the power to Turn others, to bring them under the thrall of the cloak. It had started with Gwyn and Matias all those years ago and trickled down through the centuries until Rayce had been compelled to visit the same curse on Baelerithon. But that power was ours alone, a part of the burden of the cloak, to shear away that part of each man and leave it forever out of reach, alone in the darkness.

"Not long at all," Azad confessed. He lifted his head proudly, completely unconcerned about the chains clasped around his wrists and ankles. "As the Mortals are so fond of saying, when the cat's away, the mice will play...." He spread his strong hands as much as the manacles would allow. "Can you truly blame me?"

Rayce was aghast at the bold-faced bravado of the other. To so casually damn another... to think of it as playing... "Yes," he breathed. "How could you do it?" Not just morally, but physically.

"How could I not?" Azad threw back imperiously. "Look at what we are now! I would expect even a dull-witted half-breed like you to be able see it, even if you would never have had the stomach to do it."

Ty's hand tightened into a fist around the shaft of his signature quarterstaff, temporarily halting his thumb's steady progress as he traced the raised ridges of the intricate carving along its length. Mark was a 'half-breed', too, and the insult to his brother made his blood race.

"Do what?" Rayce's voice was bitter. "Curse someone to be half a man? Steal a piece of their soul and condemn them to that life for all time? Make slaves of them?" He couldn't see the effect his words were having on the Centurion behind him.

The slightly pointed tips of Azad's canines gleamed when he gave Rayce a feral smile in response. "Curse them? No. Bless them." He closed his eyes and tilted his head back to rest against the wall below the glass. "You are utterly hopeless, Rayce Morgenstern. You cannot even see the truth when it is staring you in the face."

Rayce growled low in his throat and shifted forward in an instant. He dragged the Hunter to his feet with one swift jerk and slammed him back against the mirror. A flash of his own snarling face in the reflection reminded him uncomfortably of his father's fierce excitement during the final confrontation with Everett in the Consul's office.

Inside the observation room, the three Nephilim flinched back from the window reflexively. Sera rose halfway out of her chair, startled by her husband's ferocity. He no longer had the excuse of the Hunt's taint, and she was forcibly reminded of her dark dreams of him.

"Last chance," Rayce warned the Hunter softly.

"We are free, you fool," Azad hissed, unsurprised by Rayce's sudden assault, almost seeming to welcome it. "We serve no master now. With the blood of the Hunt in our veins, we need not fear the touch of cold iron, nor suffer the annoyance of grave dirt and salt." A thin trickle of blood spilled from the corner of his mouth where he had bitten his lip, and it stained his smile red. "We heal faster than our brethren and may ride the winds of the world from out of the ether. This was never about our extinction," he breathed excitedly, "it's about our evolution. The Fey can take this dark embrace and usher in a new era with all of our weaknesses washed away." His laughter filled the holding cell, and his shaking shoulders masked the trembling in Rayce's hands. The revelation both horrified and stunned him, and he lost his focus for the one moment that Azad needed to strike, providing the opening the other had so patiently cultivated by luring Rayce in closer.

In a blindingly-fast movement, the Hunter whipped up one of the lengths of chain that dangled from his wrists and looped it around Rayce's neck. He pulled on it savagely and twisted the Nephilim around to shield himself from any retaliatory strikes from the Centurion.

Rayce choked as the links dug into his flesh and his hands flew to where the chain was compressing his vulnerable carotid artery. He tried to shift out of the Hunter's grasp, but nothing happened. Cold...iron... Dizzying blackness crashed through him, and his entire body tingled dangerously as his vision narrowed. He didn't hear Ty's shout or see the Centurion spin his quarterstaff up defensively. He didn't feel himself hit the ground when Azad dropped his now-unconscious shield and freed Rayce's staff from its harness.

Electrum and adamas blades arced down at the anchoring pin of the Hunter's chains in the second before Ty attacked. The steelwood shaft spun in Azad's hands as he slipped sideways and kicked out powerfully. Ty dodged backwards, well-clear of the arched foot that lashed out in his direction, but he failed to factor in the trailing length of chain that followed, and he took a hard hit to the face. Blood spurted from his nose and the Hunter pressed his advantage immediately. Twin blades sliced in toward the Centurion with murderous intent.

The mirror shattered in a spray of glass that showered all three occupants of the holding cell, and Sera burst through with Jace a heartbeat behind her. Jace launched himself horizontally at the Hunter in a flying Superman tackle that brought them both crashing down and sent Rayce's deadly staff skittering away through the shards to slide into the wall near the door.

Sera dropped to her knees next to husband, heedless of the glass, and shook him. "Rayce? Rayce!" His eyelids fluttered for a moment and then he opened his eyes slowly.

"What happened?"

Jace was swearing violently as he struggled to get a handle on the loose ends of the chains that still bound the Hunter and caught an elbow to his ribs instead. The Faerie bucked wildly and would probably have thrown Jace off himself if Ty hadn't swung the butt end of his staff into the back of Azad's head. The prisoner immediately went limp and Jace disentangled himself in an unbroken stream of profanities that impressed even Sera. She looked back down at where Rayce was still looking a bit stunned and gave him a tiny, relieved smile.

"I think you just learned what cerebral hypoxia feels like."

He sat up with a groan as his head started pounding in protest. "I don't think I much care for it."

When the Hunter had been moved to the centre cell and secured once more, the Shadowhunters retreated to the observation room. Rayce sank into one of the chairs gratefully and let his head fall into his hands while he braced his elbows on his knees. Sera rubbed her hand across his back sympathetically. This probably wasn't how he had intended the night to go when he had been lighting candles an hour earlier. She wondered if they would still have time to salvage some part of it.

"Let me make sure I've got this straight, " Jace said as he leaned back against the desk in front of the hole on the right side. "That guy," he flung out his right arm to point toward the as-yet unnamed Hunter in the far cell, "wasn't a Hunter a few weeks ago when you were in charge?"

"No, he wasn't," Rayce answered in muffled voice from his palms.

"But the whole thing with joining the Hunt was that only Gwyn could make new Hunters, right?"

Rayce lifted his head wearily. "And then me, when I took the cloak. I..." He shook his head. "Everything Azad said - the immunities, the healing, the mobility... I gave all of that to Baelerithon when my sister sentenced him to the Hunt. And now he's out there somewhere, Unbound, with the Unseelie crown in his hands and a lust for vengeance in his heart."

"But how can there be a new Hunter without the cloak?" Jace pressed. Agitation was stamped across his features, and he pushed away from the desk restlessly to pace. "Are you saying that this could spread? That this crazy 'evolution' plan could actually work?" He stopped in front of Rayce and gripped the younger Shadowhunter's shoulder. "Can they all create new Hunters now? Turn the whole goddamn race if they wanted to?"

"I don't know," Rayce whispered. "I don't know how many of the others would even think to try. They're selfish by nature. But when the power of the cloak was broken... the ability may have dissolved into all of them."

"Raziel save us," Jace breathed.

"Then they must all be destroyed," Diego declared in a low voice, "and quickly."

Ty threw down his staff. "No! My brother is one of them! Or have you forgotten," he practically spat in anger, "Perfect Diego?"

The Executor's face darkened and he drew himself up to his full height. The hard line of his jaw could have cracked stone, but the younger Centurion refused to back down.

"Diego... Ty..." Jace flung his arms out between the pair and held them apart. "We need... we need to... to stop and think about this!" It was hard to get a word in over the shouting match that broke out between them, but he tried anyway. A Herondale was nothing if not stubborn. "We need... Alec! We have to tell Alec!"

While the men acted like... well... men, Sera looked over her shoulder at the crumpled form of the deadly Hunter in the holding cell. She knew that face, recognized it from the Bone Chandelier in her younger days. Her mnemosyne rune wouldn't let her forget it. He was one of the ones she had seen there, one of the reasons she had even thought to go there for answers when faced with the impossible task of freeing Rayce. Frustration threatened to overwhelm her. She just wanted this to be over! She had never meant for it all to spiral so far out of hand.

The Hunter's body was marked by the centuries of his life, but it was the odd scar at the base of his spine that made her pause in the slow circles she had been tracing across her husband's back. She squinted more closely. It looks like he used to have a tail. A shudder ran through her when she imagined what it must have felt like to have it cut off. It reminded her too much of... her thoughts stalled... of rows and rows of trophies on display.

Remembering her failed meeting with Jiahao rekindled the shame and anger she had felt when she had been so utterly dismissed by the former Seelie Lord. And that bastard never did answer my goddamn questions about the Hunt, she swore. With a lurch, she saw again the beautiful expanse of the lone, leathery wing so carefully displayed behind the Faerie's desk and her hands tightened. She heard Rayce hiss faintly as her nails dug into his shoulder, and she relaxed her grip with an apologetic pat.

"What is it?" He asked her in a low voice, unwilling the interrupt the argument between the others.

"I've got a score to settle, and I'm not going alone this time."