Clockwork Heart | ✓

septem.

London, 1903

Brooklyn found that when her dresses came, she was happy with how perfectly they fit. Her taller-than-the-average-girl height made it difficult to find jeans that actually fit her, but these dresses were made for her. At Lucie and Cordelia's insistence, she wore the yellow dress the first day.

After breakfast, Tessa pulled her aside and quietly explained that they would be having a visitor--Magnus Bane, the warlock helping them. He said he thought he found something.

The warlock never showed.

James, sitting with her in the library, grinned. "Since our dearest Magnus hasn't shown, would you like me to show you around the city?" He asked.

"Jamie," Tessa said with distaste. "He might show at any moment."

"He isn't coming, Mother." James said. "And if the poor girl is going to leave, at least let me show her around. She'll be the only person living in 2015 that will be able to say that she's seen London in 1903 in the summer."

"Except for Magnus and myself, of course." Tessa reminded him.

"Of course," James said. "But I would like to show her around a little. Please?"

Tessa sighed. "Be back by dinner, and take some money if you're going to be out all day."

Cordelia hopped up from the couch. "I have a parasol that would nicely match your dress. Wait here." She and James left and returned at the same time. Cordelia handed her a pale yellow parasol that actually did match her dress. She thanked her, and Cordelia teasingly warned her not to ruin her good parasol.

James shook his head on the way out. "Crazy lot, aren't they?"

Brooklyn laughed, and she didn't miss how his eyes lingered on her for longer than what seemed socially acceptable. He offered his arm and she took it, and off they went.

"So," she said, "how heavily armed are you?"

"Is that a question you really would like to know the answer to?"

"By that question, I can assume that the answer is very heavily armed."

He chuckled, shaking his head. "Oh, Brooklyn. You have a lot to learn about us Shadowhunters."

James took her all over the place. He pointed out every building and every person, and he even taught her how to see through a glamour. The last place he took her was Blackfriars Bridge.

James stood, legs spread wide, in one spot and stared out over the murky Thames. He straightened and motioned for Brooklyn to stand beside him. "Right here," James said. "Right here is where my father's parabatai, James Carstairs, stood with my mother when they came."

"Who?"

"The automatons. The creation of the Magister, Axel Mortmain. They came for her. Jem--that was what they called him--nearly died that night. So did Mother." He pointed down the opposite end of the bridge. "They came from that way, those infernal creatures. Stood right down there. They talked like humans, but they were not. Not a thing of Heaven or Hell. Mother never comes down here. She says the memory is too bright, too painful still."

"Is he dead?"

"No," James said. "He's a Silent Brother. You've read of them. It was the only way to save him. He was a dying man, you see. That, too, is a long story. Just trust me. He was dying swiftly. Mother said that he was the Silent Brother that delivered both me and Lucie, the one that stood in for when we were given our first Marks. They named me after him, you know. They say he wept when my parents told him." He stares off down that opposite end of the bridge, as if he was seeing the automatons now, years after they were gone. "I wish I could meet him. I hear he was a remarkable man."

"He must have been." Brooklyn said. "He must have been a brilliant Shadowhunter."

"Father tells me he was the best man he had ever met. Beside himself, of course."

Brooklyn giggled, although the story itself made her want to cry. "You and your father are very much alike, James."

"Magnus Bane, the first time we met, assumed that I was my father until he saw my eyes." He said. "We are apparently startlingly alike. From what I understand, I am just like my father at his age, although he thought he was cursed, so he had a good reasoning for his stupid actions."

Brooklyn leaned her head against his shoulder. "Your actions were reckless, not stupid."

"Oh, Brooklyn," James sighed. "You are far too kind for your own good. Your world must not be a cruel one, because that kindness would have been crushed out of you in mine."

"Oh, James," she teased. "You are far too pessimistic. It's a miracle that the horrors of my world have not crushed me like a roach yet."

James simply shook his head. "What am I going to do with you?"

"I would rather you not throw me into the Thames or feed me to a pack of rabid demons." Brooklyn said.

"Don't be ridiculous!" James exclaimed. "Demons do not catch rabies, nor do they travel in packs." He paused to think about this for a minute. "Although throwing you into the Thames, that is an idea..."

"James Herondale, don't you dare." She took a step back.

He threw his head back and laughed, but his eyes slowly darkened. "Uncle Jem would like you," he said quietly. "You're just the kind of girl he would want me to marry."

"Marriage? So soon? You could at least take me on a date first!"

"I did," He said. "We ate lunch together, did we not? And all of today?"

Brooklyn shook her head. "My first date was with a boy that's somewhere around a hundred years older than me."

"I'm only seventeen!" He protested.

"And so am I," Brooklyn said. "But I was born in 1998, and you were born...when were you born?"

"1886," He grinned.

"That's--that's 112 years!"

James shrugged and grinned lazily at her. "Well, I do prefer my women younger..."

She smacked his arm. "James Herondale, that was way out of line."

"Brooklyn Mathis, you are antagonizing me and it is causing passersby to stare."

"Good. Let them."

James shook his head, a baffled look on his face. "And to think, I was going to kiss you."

"I--what?" He smirked and started to walk away, and she chased after him. "James Herondale, you get back here and repeat what you just said."

He turned and looked at her innocently, his eyes widened. "What? That I was going to kiss you?"

"Yes, that." She stopped, smoothing out the skirt of her dress. "Were you really?"

"Well, not now. That would be absurd." He said. "You would be expecting it, and besides, we'll be late to dinner." They had not taken five more steps before James grabbed her arm and turned her, pulling her against his chest. He grinned. "Now you're not expecting it." He leaned down and pressed his lips against hers.