Johnny shrugged. “How much can I get?”
“I guess that depends on how much you know,” said Magnus.
Magnus was surprised Johnny hadn’t made a specific request; he usually tried to be in control of negotiations. For whatever reason, Johnny was desperate to get his hands on this stuff. It was not Magnus’s business why. It wasn’t a crime to avoid Shadowhunters. Magnus had met many Shadowhunters he’d prefer to avoid. They weren’t all as charming as Alec.
“My information says the Crimson Hand recently left their headquarters in Venice,” said Magnus. “Any idea where they went?”
“No,” said Johnny. “I do know that the Crimson Hand had a secret sanctum in the Venice headquarters where they kept their holy book. It’s called the Chamber.” Johnny’s smile got wider and toothier. “There’s a secret password to get inside. I’ll give it to you for ten bottles of the potion.”
“It’s an ointment.”
“Ten bottles of the ointment.”
“One.”
“Three.”
“Done.” They shook hands. That was how you did business.
“Okay. You find the stone head of the goat, and speak the word ‘Asmodeus.’?”
One of Magnus’s eyebrows rose. “The password to get into the lair of the Asmodeus-worshipping cult is ‘Asmodeus’?”
“I don’t know if you’ve noticed this,” Johnny said thoughtfully, “but cultists aren’t usually the brightest the mundane world has to offer.”
“I have noticed that,” said Magnus. “I also need to know—who’s your source?”
“I never said I would tell you that!” said Johnny.
“But you will,” said Magnus, “because you want three jars of ointment, and because you are compulsively disloyal.”
Johnny hesitated, but only for a moment. “Warlock called Mori Shu. He’s a former member of the Crimson Hand.”
“What’s a warlock doing in a mundane cult? He should know better.”
“Who knows? Word is, he offended the new leader and he’s on the run, looking for protection. He’d know more about the Crimson Hand than anyone who isn’t still in it. He was in Paris not long ago, but I hear he’s headed to Venice now. He’d tell you anything, if you helped him out.”
Just when the Crimson Hand was leaving Venice, Mori Shu was headed there.
“Thanks, Johnny. I’ll have the ointment sent to you in L.A. right when I get back from vacation.”
The yellow bubble began to dissolve into gold flakes that drifted glitteringly into the breeze. As it went, Johnny grabbed hold of Magnus’s sleeve and hissed with unexpected intensity: “There have been a lot of faerie disappearances in Shadow Markets lately. Everybody’s on edge. People are saying the Crimson Hand is responsible. I hate the idea of people hunting down faeries. Stop them.” There was a look on Johnny’s face Magnus couldn’t remember seeing before, a mix of anger and fear.
Then the cacophony of the Paris Shadow Market returned in a rush.
“Now,” Magnus murmured. “Where is Alec?”
“That your Shadowhunter?” Johnny said, grinning wickedly, all hint of his previous expression gone. “You do know how to make a stir in a public place, my friend.”
“We’re not friends, Johnny,” said Magnus absently, scanning the crowd. Johnny barked a laugh.
Alec appeared like a rabbit from a hat, out from behind the corner of a nearby stall. He looked as though he had been rolling in the mud.
“Your Shadowhunter is filthy,” observed Johnny.
“Well, he cleans up nice,” said Magnus.
“I’m sure he’s a real special dreamboat, but by a total coincidence, I have an urgent appointment elsewhere. Until next time, High Warlock.”
Johnny threw him a casual salute and vanished into the crowd. Magnus let him go. He was more concerned with the state of his boyfriend. He looked Alec up and down, taking in the mud caked over his clothes and liberally sprinkled in his black hair. Alec was carrying his bow close to his body, and his chest was rising and falling hard.
“Hey, honey,” said Magnus. “What’s new?”
CHAPTER SIX
* * *
Clash by Night
FIVE MINUTES AFTER LEAVING MAGNUS’S side, Alec watched Magnus put his hand into a cage of sharp-clawed, poisonous, demonic monkeys. Alec gripped his seraph blade lightly but held back.
He was in the Shadow Market. The rules were different here. He knew that.
Fortunately, Magnus only patted one snarling creature with a careless ringed hand, then backed away from that stall and toward another that was being picketed by disgruntled werewolves.
“Stop the oppression of werewolves by the undead!” said one werewolf woman, waving a DOWNWORLDER UNITY sign. Magnus took a pamphlet and gave the werewolf a smile, leaving her dazzled. Magnus had that effect on people. Alec recalled how the vampire blood merchant had looked at Magnus earlier. Before Alec met Magnus he used to sneak nervous glances at guys sometimes: at Jace, or Shadowhunters visiting the Institute, or mundanes in the busy New York streets. Now when Magnus was in a room, it was difficult for Alec to notice anybody but him. Did Magnus still notice men were handsome, or think women were beautiful? Alec felt a sharp prickle of nerves at the thought of how many people might be delighted if Alec did fail this relationship test.