It was past midnight, and the stars were barely visible under the city lights. Vehicles raced across the street careless, the drivers steering horrendously, but that was the technique in Miami. Drive like you don't know how to. Although the city lights were so bright, the streets shrank from the streetlight. Shadows were beginning to crawl into the sidewalks and pedestrians seemed to be engulfed by it. Walking gracefully under the pale moonlight in an oversized hood was a young Shadowhunter clothed in mundane attire. Shady men whistled across the street with an empty bottle of beer in their hands and the homeless mumbling unconsciously as they pushed their cart of items.
Tahlia kept her head down as she walked across the street with the bright red hand flashing at her otherwise. Brickell was the it place to be in the city, oblivious teenagers chaotically trudged across the courtyard singing some pop song on the radio. Tahlia watched with a smile on her face unable to forget the time when she'd do that with her friends as a child. But that before she knew anything of the shadow world. That was before she had to step up to her duty as a Nephilim. Before she had to forget everything of her mundane life.
But what the Consul doesn't understand is that some things just can't be forgotten.
Overtime Tahlia carefully walked into the expensive building, towering over all with bright flashy lights and polished windows reflecting the full moon tonight. The lobby was full with florescent lighting. Polished tiles mirrored all of the interior designing on the walls. The antique vases and the designer furniture placed to the far right of the lobby by the piano. It was clear for tonight. Mostly because the owners of these expensive condos were all asleep.
"Good evening, Miss----"
Tahlia ignored the man behind the desk and crossed over to the elevators. She pressed number 57, swiping a card across the monitor simultaneously. The elevator beeped in response and soon enough she was rising to the floor. The doors bounced her reflection almost horrifyingly. Her charcoal black hair was loose around her head, the flowing curls gently caressing her shoulders. Her face had a glossy coat of sweat since she chose public transpiration and walking rather than stealing Xavier's car. Her plump full lips were dry and chapped. Her olive skin tone seemed drained from color into a horrifyingly milky flesh tone. Worst of all, her blue eyes seemed dead. Like a flat ocean, strokes of colors painted across the water but unmoving and still. She glanced away, looking at the wooden walls before the elevator dinged and she was able to rush out.
It took her a few seconds to knock on apartment 579.
"Who the hell is knocking on the door at one o'clock in the morning?" A husky voice whined. "Shit, I mean," as if realizing how immature that sounded he cleared his throat. "WHO DARES CALLS UPON THE HIGH WARLOCK!"
"Tahlia," She said. "Tahlia Black."
The door was unlocked instantly--a silent permission for the young Nephilim to enter the condo. When she walked in, the balcony was open. The full moon was splashed in the night sky with the grayest of clouds and the light speckles of stars that were visible to see in the city. Tahlia always imagined what it'd be like to go away into the country and see the stars. But then the runes on her hand reminded her of her responsibilities, and the people she'd have to leave behind. She finally noticed Quentin Martez leaning by the counter of the kitchen.
He seemed more casual than usual. His ruffled blonde hair was tied into a bun and looked drowsy; his face, even with his glowing neon eyes, very young. He wore a JUST DO IT t-shirt with no bottoms. His bold white boxers clear in her line of sight. Her eyes flickered back once more before she kept her eyes trained on his. Not daring to look down.
"Tahlia," He said, his voice husky and drowsy, his boldly intense eyes glowed otherwise. "What can I do for you at such a late hour?"
She knew what he was inferring and she rolled her eyes. "You know what I'm here for."
He smiled, like a wolf would smile at the fox. "Very well, come with me." He twirled around, gracefully disappearing into one of the rooms. She stood by the door hesitantly. This was reckless, she thought, no, not just reckless. It was just stupid.
But even after the internal argument, she complied.
"You're awfully slow today, Tatty," Her parabatai said, jogging around her. "Is there a reason why?"
His chestnut brown curls clung on his forehead, sweat glistening off his body. His white shirt was soaked in it, revealing the defined muscles on his abdomen, earning complimenting stares from young mundane girls admiring the boy jogging in Lincoln Park with his parabatai.
Tahlia rolled her eyes, nudging him out of her way as she jogged in a faster pace, huffing lightly. Soon enough he was by her side, running at the same pace. Parabatais never had to worry about the other being left behind because they each fed on each other. One strength was the others strength, too. One's speed slowly equalized the other's pace as well. Together they were the warriors---a bond that could never, ever be broken. She will belong to Alexi as he will belong to her.
It was the way it was. And she was glad it was him.
The sun was beating on their flesh, heat causing more humidity in the clammy summer air. By the angel, why does it have to be so hot? "I'm just thinking." She said, and she was. About last night.
He didn't push further. "Did you spot the faerie?"
Since the Cold War, laws were made to cut off any relationship for the faeries, and that meant their restriction of stepping into the mundane world as well. It was strictly forbidden for them to receive help from any of the Downworlders, and even the mundanes.
It's their own fault, she heard when the law was being made, they made their bed, not they have to lay in it.
She remembered seeing Julian Blackthorn in the room with the other adults, Emma Carstairs by his side staring bewildered. She glanced at Helen, one of the Blackthorns who was also part faerie. Helen was calm, but you couldn't miss the surprise sketched on her face. That's when she realized that this wasn't fair---the laws they had just weren't fair.
Let it be so: a bad law is no law.
Tahlia glanced around once more, the area filled with obvlivious mundanes. How could she have been one of them? "Nope, like I said before The Lavern just likes to make our lives hell," She sneered. "Damn werewolves."
"I thought it'd be for real this time." Alexi said as he winked at one of the blonde mundanes admiring him by one of the coffee tables outside Starbucks. "I mean, eventually they have to realize that they're going to get in trouble."
"Yeah, until then it's the wolf who cried boy."
Alexi barked a laugh. "That was corny."
She exhaled a breath of air, a smile playing on her face. "I couldn't miss the opportunity."
"Do you think they'd do it?"
Tahlia glanced at him in confusion. "Do what?"
"Come out," He said, a distance in his tone. "Would they really play with fire like that?"
Tahlia looked forward. Mostly because she didn't want to say this while meeting his eyes. "Yes, I honestly believe so."