The One That Got Away (The Bounty Hunter Trilogy)

Chapter twelve

Driving towards the abandoned mine, Magnus's mind was buzzing. Alexander had kissed him. He certainly hadn't expected that, and even more so - he hadn't expected himself to kiss him back. He had tried to deny the fact, that even though he played the flirting off as a part of his own nature, he had started to feel something towards the bounty hunter. It was not just an attraction, but something more, like a pull of some sort. Alexander trusted him, that was the first thing that made Magnus let his guard down, and he still regretted it. He had always managed to be alone - the key to having no fear is having nothing to lose, so he never gave his heart to anyone. But Alec... he had managed to say just the right words to make Magnus doubt that and he did not like it. Why? Because now, he had not just himself to think about. 

He couldn't let this sway him. They had a plan, a mission and he was supposed to save Catarina and Ragnor, that was the endgame. And after that, he would leave. He felt his chest ache, a familiar feeling. He couldn't fathom how on earth Alec had made his way into his heart, so quickly, but he knew it was a dumb move, letting it all happen, letting Alec kiss him. They were on opposite sides and the fact remained, that Alec had considered him an enemy, up until they had to work together. Whatever he felt or might have felt for the taller man, had to be brushed aside. Alec's soft voice was still in his mind and the way his lips felt against Magnus's... the conman touched his lower lip absentmindedly, when he pulled over to his destination. Shaking his head, he gazed at his reflection in the mirror. His eyes betrayed no fear, although his heart was beating fast. If this didn't work... But it was going to. He grabbed the photo, phone and made sure his gun was tucked in. He knew that Valentine will expect him to carry a weapon, but it didn't matter. He would've been a fool not to.

When he got out of the car, he couldn't help but look back into the distance, where he could see only and empty road and faraway hills. He knew Isabelle and Alec were keeping an eye on him, and that made him feel a little better. Even though he was used to working alone, there was something comforting in knowing, that if he were to die, he wouldn't be alone. He pulled his coat closer to himself and went towards the abandoned mine. The place was windy and the cold air hit his face, slashing at it. The only lights were the dim laterns beside the mouth of the 'cave', where and old railroad track disappeared. He saw three figures standing there and he raised an eyebrow. Valentine came with just two bodyguards? That's very brave of him. Not that Magnus would try and take him down, but he could easily do it, if he wanted to. He would also get killed in the process, which is why he just stood a few feet away from them, his eyes fixed on the man in the middle.

Valentine stood with his hands behind his back and a hood on his head, but Magnus knew it was him. He'd seen that face many times, to recognize the large scar on his face, making its way from his brow to the corner of his mouth on the left side, even in the dark. He opened his arms wide as if greeting him, inviting him in for a hug. The smile on his face was as cold as his eyes, as he removed the hood. "Magnus Bane. The man no one can find and yet, here you are." he said, his voice dark, but cutting through the night. Magnus noticed that on his right, there was Raphael Santiago. He was staring at Magnus with empty, uninterested eyes, his figure small next  to Valentine, and he looked like he didn't even notice what was going on around him. Magnus had become great at masking his emotions, so the fact that he knew about Raphael, and that Cat had probably approached him, didn't reflect in his face. He forced himself to appear just as uninterested as the younger boy. On Valentine's left, there was a woman. Her hood was up, so Magnus couldn't quite see her face, but she had a long ponytail, coming over her shoulder all the way to her waist, a shade of dirty blond, almost white. Her hands were occupied with a knife, that she carelessly, but obviously professionally flicked in her hand. The blade seemed sharp enough to cut through bone.