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—Alec choosing Magnus over the Clave every time, without hesitation. Alec turning against the Laws he had always lived by to protect Magnus and keep his secrets.

Magnus had never thought he would need protecting. He had thought it would make him weak. He had been wrong.

Dread died away. Shaking, hardly able to move, with darkness bearing down upon him, Magnus felt only gratitude for his life.

He wasn’t ready for death, but if it came today, he would face it with his head held high and Alexander Lightwood’s name on his lips.

—The Red Scrolls of Magic

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He did not want to die like this, by the hand of a raging wounded warlock, in front of misguided and badly dressed fools, with all the stupid mistakes of his past coming to swallow the possibility of his future. If he did die, he did not want regret to be the last thing he felt.

So he thought about Alec.

Alec, with his heartbreaking contradictions, shy and brave, relentless and tender. Alec’s midnight-blue eyes, and the look on his face when they had their first kiss. And their last. Magnus had not thought today’s kiss would be their last. But nobody ever did know, when the last kiss came.

—The Red Scrolls of Magic

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Bernard shoved him upright, gripping him by the arms. Magnus gazed out at the implacable crowd through pain-hazed eyes.

“Behold, the Great Poison!” Shinyun shouted. “Our founder. The prophet who brought us together and then led us astray.”

“It’s just an honor to be nominated,” Magnus gasped.

—The Red Scrolls of Magic

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“Robe him in white,” said Shinyun, “so the mark of the crimson hand will show upon him.”

Magnus crossed his arms and raised his voice and his eyebrows. “You can poison me and throw me in a dungeon. You can beat me and even sacrifice me to a Greater Demon. But I draw the line at wearing a white suit for an evening event.”

—The Red Scrolls of Magic

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“But, Alec, did you say that the leader of the Crimson Hand told us to be here?”

He nodded. “There was a warlock who traveled with us named Shinyun Jung. She said she was a reformed Crimson Hand cultist and was trying to put an end to them—but I think she’s the leader we’ve been searching for. We need to find Magnus. He’s in danger.”

“Wait,” said Helen. “So you’re saying that your boyfriend isn’t the leader of the Crimson Hand, but you have another travel companion who is? Like, do you always insist on traveling with cultists?”

Alec glanced at Aline for support, but she only spread her hands, as if to indicate that she felt Helen was making a fair point.

“No, I always insist on traveling with cult leaders,” said Alec.

—The Red Scrolls of Magic

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“Helen,” said Aline, panting, “are you all right?”

“I am,” Helen answered. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” said Alec. “Not that anyone asked.”

—The Red Scrolls of Magic

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“One last thing,” said Shinyun, and she sounded like she was smiling.

She stepped close to Magnus.

“I led you to a place where you could not receive calls. I rendered your phone unusable. And I contacted Alec myself on your behalf.” She smiled. “I set a trap for each of you. Alec Lightwood should be dead shortly.”

Magnus could face anything, if Alec was safe.

It was a dark explosion in Magnus’s mind, a howling scream of agony and rage. A rage that he rarely if ever allowed himself to feel. A rage that came from his father. He lunged for Shinyun. Bernard and the other cult members grabbed his arms, holding him back as he struggled. Blue sparks, faint and pale, appeared at his fingertips.

Shinyun patted Magnus’s face, the gesture almost hard enough to be a slap.

“I do hope you said a proper farewell to your child of the Angel, Magnus Bane,” she murmured. “I can’t imagine you two are going to the same afterlife.”

—The Red Scrolls of Magic

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“I’ve become very skilled at pretending, over the centuries, in the service of my father. My face is a gift given to me, that I might serve Asmodeus better. People cannot see what I truly feel. They project onto a mask what they wish for, and never think that I am real beneath the mask. I give them what they want to see and tell them what they want to hear. But that Shadowhunter didn’t want anything from me, and the only thing that worked on you was making you feel sorry for me. I hated doing that so much, I hated you so much, and I still couldn’t stop him watching you, protecting you, always at the ready. I realized that the only way I could take you down was if I got you away from Alexander Lightwood first.”

Magnus thought of his regret earlier that day that Alec had felt driven to go to the Rome Institute. Now he was only grateful. Alec would be safe there, and Magnus could face anything, if Alec was safe.

—The Red Scrolls of Magic

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“Why?” He choked. “All this time you were helping us, you were just leading us into this trap. Why didn’t you just grab me in Paris or on the train, or at any other opportunity you had? Why go through this charade?”

“Alec.” Shinyun said his name as if it was poison. “Every time I was close to seizing you, he got in the way. I had you cornered in the Paris Shadow Market until he arrived at the alley. We actually had you in our grasp on the train until he began cutting down all my demons like chaff. Alec took out the pack of Raum demons and most of the Ravener swarm. All that was left was my maimed brood mother. I couldn’t trust her to finish the job, and I couldn’t risk losing track of you. I decided I had to stay as close to you as possible.”

—The Red Scrolls of Magic

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“My glorious destiny?” Magnus asked. “It’s always a glorious destiny. Have you noticed that? Nobody ever references the mediocre destinies.”

Shinyun said, “No. Mine is the destiny that will be glorious. You do not deserve glory. You started this cult as a joke. You had people pull pranks and heal the sick. You made a mockery of the name of Asmodeus.”

“Mockery is the best use I’ve found for his name,” Magnus murmured.

Shinyun’s voice was furious. “We should both have been loyal to Asmodeus. He favored you so greatly. You are not worthy of him.”

“He’s not worthy of me,” Magnus remarked.

—The Red Scrolls of Magic

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“How could you do that?” Shinyun asked softly. “How did you get to be so strong? Surely now you have no power left.”

Magnus forced himself to stand and began to stagger toward the blasted-open exit.

“I’m leaving.”

Just as he was about to pass Shinyun, she threw an arm out and grabbed him by the front of the shirt. “I don’t think so.”

Magnus studied her still face in the shadowed light. His heartbeat rang in his own ears, signaling danger far too late.

“I see that my beautiful trusting nature has been imposed on,” he said. “Again.”

—The Red Scrolls of Magic

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They entered the villa through what had evidently once been a stable and searched their way through a series of rooms. The building had long since been ransacked. Broken cabinets, torn tapestries, shattered glass littered the floors. Nature had already begun the slow process of consuming the villa. Weeds and vines infiltrated the cracks in the walls and windows. The strong scent of stagnant water lingered in the air. Everything was damp. The dank smell was making Magnus light-headed. He was finding it a little difficult to breathe.

“Evil can be excused, sometimes. Squalor, though, never,” Magnus murmured.

Shinyun murmured back, “Will you stop making jokes?”

“Unlikely,” said Magnus.

—The Red Scrolls of Magic

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“Don’t worry about it,” said Helen. “It’s not a secret that I like girls as well as boys. Too bad if it bothers Aline.” She sneaked a look at Aline over her shoulder, then shrugged. “Pity. That girl is hot like hellfire.”

Alec ducked his head and smiled. He was a bit surprised, but it was nice to talk with Helen about this, to see how calm and fearless she was.

“Probably,” he said. “I wouldn’t know.” He added shyly, “I think my boyfriend’s pretty hot, though.”

—The Red Scrolls of Magic

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He had a few bruises and scrapes left over from the night on the train, and the night the mansion collapsed on them. By now they were faint, and ached only if he moved in a particular way. He could have healed himself anytime, but chose to let time heal the wounds. Not because he enjoyed the pain; far from it. When he had first learned to heal himself, he’d spent copious amounts of time and magic doing away with every single little hurt. Over the centuries, though, he’d learned that these minor injuries were part of life. Suffering through them made him appreciate being whole and well.

—The Red Scrolls of Magic

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Alec had spent so long with a desperate, impossible crush on Jace. He had thought it was a secret: now he knew everyone had always known, especially Jace. Jace had never minded. He had understood Alec needed to have a crush on someone who was safe. On a boy who if Alec said, “I like you,” to him, would not have punched Alec in the face or dragged him in front of the Clave. People could be horrendously, violently awful about anyone who was different.

That crush was a memory now. It had seemed part of his overall love for Jace once, the love that made them parabatai, but now it seemed more like the passing touch of light on metal. The gleam was gone, but the gold of friendship remained, pure and true.

—The Red Scrolls of Magic

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“When this is over, I could come to New York,” Leon suggested. “You could show me a good time.”

He winked.

“Please tell me you’re getting the implications this time,” Leon added.

“I am,” said Alec.

“Fantastic!” Leon told him. “We’d have to keep it quiet, but I think we could have fun. You have so much going for you, Alec. You can do better than some Downworlder with a shady past. Hey, do you have any time tonight?”

Leon was handsome, Alec guessed. If Leon had come to New York when Alec was angry and miserable and thought nothing was ever going to happen for him, Alec might have taken him up on his offer.

“No,” he said. He turned away, then looked over his shoulder. “I want to be clear,” he added. “No, I have plans for tonight that don’t include you. No, I’m not interested in fun on the quiet. And no. I can’t do better than Magnus. There isn’t better than Magnus.”

—The Red Scrolls of Magic

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“What do you know about the Crimson Hand?” Helen demanded. “Where is Magnus Bane? What happened in Venice?”

Helen was clearly about to level several more questions when Aline waved a hand in between them. “Excuse me.”

“What!” Helen seemed to notice her for the first time. Their eyes met.

“Hey,” said Aline.

There was a momentary pause.

“Hi,” said Helen.

More silence followed.

“Um, sorry,” said Alec. “I was too busy getting interrogated to make proper introductions. Helen Blackthorn, Aline Penhallow. Aline, this is Helen.”

“And I’m Leon,” said Leon. Aline did not even glance at him.

—The Red Scrolls of Magic