Forbidden Parabatai | ✓

(7) Magnus Bane

“No way are you going in that,” Laressa looked at Chantelle disapprovingly as she stepped out of the room.

“What? Ares is in Hell now and you’re worried about my fashion choices?”

“Since when did you get so grumpy? I thought that was Ares’ job and your job was to shut him up.”

“You make me sound like I’m your servant.” Groaned Chantelle, but Laressa caught a glint of a smile. “Ah, there she is. The Chantelle Carstairs I know is back.”

Chantelle rolled her eyes teasingly. “Whatever. And you liked my fashion choices.”

“To be honest, yours is the best I met, not counting me of course. And wear something—how do I put this nicely—sluttier.”

“Ew. Just ew. And no way, this is the best I can go.” Chantelle tugged at her v-shape and short red dress that wrapped around her legs tightly. “This already makes me look like a slut.”

“You’re going to the High Warlock’s party. You can’t be the pure Chantelle Carstairs you are.” A grin crept up her face. “Hey, they say Clarissa Herondale and Isabelle Lightwood had a conversation like this before, then went to crash Magnus’ party.”

“We aren’t exactly crashing it, and how did you know?”

Laressa examined a fingernail in a mighty sort of manner. “I have my sources.” She said in a British accent, and Chantelle couldn’t help but laugh.

“Oh, Laressa Sophia Lightwood, go get your own TV show.”

***

They stood just outside Magnus Bane’s door and Chantelle took out her stele.

“I wish Ares was here.” Chantelle sighed softly to Zachary as she drew a rune with her stele. Last night she had met with Ares and told him the plan, but only briefly, for Chantelle needed rest for today’s challenge—convincing the High Warlock of Los Angeles.

“Bear with it.” Zachary gave her an encouraging smile. The last time he met Ares, Ares wanted him to take good care of Chantelle, and so he shall.

After drawing the rune, the person in front of it was ‘distracted’, and they snuck into the party. Today they didn’t come as Shadowhunters, so they tried not to wear black (though it was the color they were used to) and made sure to fit in the best they could. Each of them were to split up, and they had different features of their own to make them blend in. Chantelle and Laressa were dressed up as faeries, and Zachary and Andre, werewolves. Of course, the others would not recognize them, so they could only hope for the alcohol to have excellent effects, and that the fact that they were trained for stealth.

“Take this side.” Laressa said as Zachary and Andre broke away from the group. Luckily, the werewolves decided to keep their human state under control today, and Zachary and Andre looked almost like one of them. But a conscious sniff could distinguish the brothers as Nephilim.

Suddenly, Laressa felt her eyes flicker by themselves to a tank of pink liquid. It was glittery— and something about it was attractive, and Laressa found herself stepping forward. All her defences went down—she was making an unconscious effort to get to that tank. “It’s… so pretty.” She said in a high-pitched tone, walking forward, as though something was pulling forward. Someone nearby—Laressa was too distracted to notice his features—grinned, but it was an evil one. He dipped a glass inside and handed the now-filled glass to Laressa, who rocked it gently to see a gentle swirl. It was beautiful, so extremely beautiful—

“Laressa!” Came a hiss and someone snatched the glass away. Laressa snapped out of her earlier attractions. “By the—I leave you to check on someone for a second and you fall into the faeries’ ploy.” Chantelle corrected her ‘by the angel’ words that were nearly uttered, for only Nephilim said that. She gave a disapproving look to Laressa, before walking over to someone who was drunk, but away. She gave a sweet smile, tilting her head a little. “Oh dear, I seem to be unable to finish this drink! Would you care to drink this for me?”