The Angels and Demons of New York

Chapter 1

To love is to destroy, and to be loved is to be destroyed.

The chink of my cup against it's china saucer brings me back from my momentary distraction. I straighten, plastering the smile back on my face, as the Seelie Queen sips delicately at her tea.

'Your father sends his good wishes,' I say calmly, and her eyes flicker to mine, then away almost as quickly.

She is afraid of me. No, wary.

'I trust that he is well?' she says, placing her cup on the little table between us that's being supported by little sprites.

'Indeed, unless some tragedy has befallen him in the short period we have not spoken. I shall ask my brother when I next see him.'

'I thank you.'

'There is no need,' I assure her. She folds her hands in her lap and tries to look convincingly calm. We are alone in her quarters, the only time I have ever seen her by herself.

I drain the last of my tea before setting it down, lounging back on the sofa cushions of her satin recliner. She does not, and remains tense and alert.

'Your journey here was easy I hope,' she coughs delicately to clear her throat. I nod.

'Magnus Bane, for all his faults, is a powerful wizard.'

'He is at that.'

'We have already made a pact with the warlocks ensuring their full support in this matter. My brother went on to the werewolves, but I thought it a better idea to see you myself,' I say slowly. I flicker my gaze over her, gauging her reaction.

'We, of course, have a history,' I add.

The Queen takes her time answering.

'This matter...doesn't it make more sense letting the nephilim deal with it. This is, of course, their area of expertise, and-'

'I will not trust something as delicate as this in their destructive hands,' I snap, and my wings flutter nervously against my back.

'My apologies,' the Queen says stiffly. I take a deep breath to calm the churning anger in my chest.

'A matter as big as this will of course be, at least, noticed by the mortal realm, which is exactly what the nephilim strive to avoid. I cannot let their constant hushing interrupt our deceit. Do you understand?'

'Yes.'

I lean forwards, eyes blazing.

'Will you consent?'

The Queen licks her lips, then-

'I do consent.'

A smile curls across my lips like a cat unfurling on a sunny patch of floor. I stand, brushing my red hair back off my face with a triumphant sigh.

'Thank you my Queen. Expect a visit from my brother within the week. Your help is greatly appreciated by all of us.'

I turn to leave, but just as I push back the vines of the doorway the Queen stands.

'Miss Mogernstern, what will become of our world after this is over?' she cries, fear seeping into her flowery voice. I turn and put on my most convincingly innocent smile.

'I do not know, my liege. And please, my friends call me Clary.'

*

Central Park is cool and brightly lit. The street lamps on either side of the main path throw large circles of light out onto the pavement, so I skip around them, sticking to the shadows like a weird game of hopscotch. There are no late-night walkers, but just to be safe I change my form, morphing my body of smoke to become boots and skinny jeans, a large parka and hood. The red hair burns as brightly as a flame, so I pull my hood up and stuff my hands into my pockets. I come to the base of a large sycamore tree, and, glancing around to check I'm alone, look up.