The Course of True Love (and First Dates) Read Online Free PDF Page A

Magnus could do actual magic, something Shadowhunters liked to forget when they were deep in contemplation of how superior they were. To Alec’s credit, though, he nodded and moved forward. Magnus noted, with slight puzzlement, that whenever Magnus tried to edge ahead, Alec put out an arm or moved slightly faster, staying in front of Magnus in a protective stance.
    The people still in the bar were flattened against the walls as if pinned there, unmoving with terror. Someone was sobbing.
    There was a low, rattling growl coming from the back lounge of the bar.
    Alec crept toward the sound, Shadowhunter-soft and swift, and Magnus followed.
    The lounge was decorated with black-and-white pictures of women from the 1950s and a disco ball that obviously provided no useful light. There was an empty stage made of boxes and a reading lamp that provided the only real illumination. There were couches in the center of the room, chairs at the back, and shadows all around.
    There was a shadow moving and growling among all the other shadows. Alec prowled forward, hunting it, and the werewolf gave a growl of challenge.
    And there was suddenly a slender girl with her hair in long dark coils, trailing ribbons and blood, dashing straight at them. Magnus leaped forward and caught her in his arms before she could distract or be attacked by Alec.
    “Don’t let him hurt her!” she screamed while at the same time Magnus asked, “How badly did she hurt you?”
    Magnus paused and said, “We may be at somewhat of an impasse. Yes or no questions now: Are you badly hurt?”
    He took hold of her shoulders gently and looked her over. She had a long, deep scratch all the way up one smooth brown arm. It was welling with blood, falling in fat drops to the floor as they spoke; she was the source of the blood on the floor outside.
    She glared at him and lied, “No.”
    “You’re a mundane, aren’t you?”
    “Yes—or I’m not a werewolf or anything else, if that’s what you mean.”
    “But you know she’s a werewolf.”
    “Yes, dumbass!” snapped the girl. “She told me. I know all about it. I don’t care. It’s my fault. I encouraged her to go out.”
    “I’m not the one encouraging werewolves to go out at the full moon and attack people on the dance floor,” Magnus said. “But perhaps we can settle which of us is the dumbass at a better time when there are not lives at stake.”
    The girl clutched his arm. She could see Alec, visible as Shadowhunters almost never were to the mundanes. She could see his weapons. She was bleeding too much, and yet her fear was all for someone else.
    Magnus held on to the girl’s arm. He would have done better with ingredients and potions, but he sent blue crackling power twining around her arm to soothe the pain and stop the bleeding. When he opened his eyes he saw the girl’s gaze fixed on him, her lips parted and her face wondering. Magnus wondered if she had even known that there were people who could do magic, that anything but werewolves existed in the world.
    Over her shoulder he saw Alec lunge and join battle with the wolf.
    “One last question,” said Magnus, speaking rapidly and softly. “Can you trust me to see your friend safe?”
    The girl hesitated, and then said, “Yes.”
    “Then go wait outside,” said Magnus. “Outside the bar, not this room. Go wait outside and clear out everyone that you can. Tell people it’s a stray dog that wandered in—give people the excuse they will all want to dismiss this. Tell them you’re not badly hurt. What’s your friend’s name?”
    She swallowed. “Marcy.”
    “Marcy will want to know you’re safe, once we’ve got through to her,” said Magnus. “Go for her sake.”
    The girl nodded, a sharp jerky movement, and then fled from Magnus’s grip. He heard her platform heels hitting the tiles as she went. He was able, finally, to turn back to Alec.
    He saw teeth flash in the dark and did not see Alec, because Alec was a blur of motion,