CHAPTER TEN
OCTOPI DEMON
*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧
"Did you or did you not go and see your mother without me? Be honest. I won't be mad."
Adrian doubted that, considering he actually grunted when Isabelle's practice stick landed against his own. She had swung it so hard that the aftershocks shot up his arms. If he wasn't trained to deal with such blows, he would've dropped his own practice stick completely. Frowning to himself, he shoved her stick off of his own, then pulled it back to circle it above his head. Her eyes flickered up to look at it warily—he was better at such weapons, after all—and as soon as she did, he twisted around and brought his foot up. The heel of his foot landed on her hip in a well-practiced kick, and her gasp of pain echoed throughout the training room. She stumbled, her hand pressing against the spot as she used her practice stick to keep her balance. She glared at him through her hair, which was falling out of the clip she had put it in.
"You sound mad," Adrian pointed out, breathing hard as he lowered his practice stick. He almost wished they were using their real weapons. They were resting on a table nearby, just out of reach. He would've preferred this sparring to be a little more dangerous, just to get his adrenaline pumping. He was on edge as it was. The sight of that dead Shadowhunter wouldn't leave his mind; the sight of that dead man talking, moaning in pain, begging for it to stop. A shudder went through him. Compared to witnessing an act of horrible necromancy—committed by one of his close friends and endorsed by his guardian, no less—his visit with his mother seemed like a walk in the park. A walk in the park that had happened months ago, not days.
"I don't sound mad," Isabelle corrected, still rubbing at her hip. Adrian, feeling a pang of guilt, dug his stele out of his pocket and approached her. Without a word, she held out her arm, and Adrian drew a quick iratze on the inside of her wrist. Her sigh of relief was immediate, and she shot him an ugly look to show she didn't appreciate his kick. He just shrugged. He couldn't tell her about what was truly bothering him—Maryse had ordered him to keep the act of necromancy a secret, and he knew it was coming from the Head of the Institute, not his guardian—so he would let Isabelle think it was the visit to his family that was truly bothering him. For now. Once they were parabatai, he would tell her everything. "I sound like I'm getting my ass kicked by my own future parabatai. What's gotten into you? Was the visit really that bad?"
"It was..." He chewed on the inside of his cheek, glancing away. It was rather hard not to blurt out the fact that Clary had a necromancy rune at her disposal. He sighed and rubbed at his forehead, grimacing. "It's actually not about my family. Not right now, at least. Maryse swore me to secrecy about something and I really want to tell you, but..." He offered her a sheepish shrug when Isabelle pinned him with a harsh glare. "She'll know if I tell you. You know she will. I'll tell you after our parabatai ceremony. Deal?" She pursed her lips, then rolled her eyes.
"Deal," she sighed, sounding disappointed. "So how was the visit?" Adrian pursed his lips and glanced away from her, choosing to play with his practice stick instead. He twirled it around for a moment, stepping away from her so he didn't accidentally whack her on the head. He debated on how to describe the visit. Had it been a good one? Maybe. Had it gone terribly? Adrian certainly felt like it had toward the end. Did he regret it? He didn't know. All he knew was that whenever he remembered the picture of his little sister's birthday—whenever he remembered he had siblings at all—he felt a pang in his chest.
"It was..." Adrian searched for the right word. "...fast." Isabelle was silent for a few moments, clearly expecting more. When he didn't elaborate, she sighed heavily and put her hand on her hip. She didn't even have to say anything. She just raised a single eyebrow, and it made Adrian grimace and tilt his head back to stare up at the rafters of the training room. He could remember learning to balance on them, holding Isabelle's hand as they raced across the high beams, nothing but a rope tied to their waists to save them from falling. He remembered having to learn how to jump from that height after they had mastered balancing, and his breath caught in his throat.
How different his childhood had been compared to his brother and sister. It hadn't really hit him until then, that they all came from the same two people and yet had been raised completely differently.
"I have siblings," Adrian said quietly, still staring up at the rafters, lost in thought. He heard Isabelle suck in a small, startled breath, but thankfully she didn't say anything. A frown pulled at his lips, and he finally righted his head to look at her. "A brother not much younger than me—I don't know his name, my mother didn't say it—and a twelve year old sister named Abigail. That's how my mom recognized us. She was expecting the Clave to arrive and ask Abigail if she wanted to be a Shadowhunter." Adrian paused, then added quietly, "My dad wasn't there. I'm kind of glad he wasn't."
"Why?" Isabelle asked, her voice gentle but curious. Adrian cast her a curious look, so she elaborated. "Why were you glad he wasn't there? I thought you wanted to at least see both of them." Adrian opened his mouth, hesitated, then sighed in frustration and looked away from her.
"I haven't exactly had good experiences with fathers, Izzy," Adrian reminded, keeping his gaze on the far wall. There was a beat of tense silence, and then Isabelle was at his side, turning him to face her and pulling him into a hug, her arms locking around his waist. He hugged her back, resting his chin on top of her head. He released a sigh against her hair. "Meeting my mother was overwhelming enough. I don't think I could've handled being jumpy around my father."
"There's no reason for you to be jumpy around him, Dri," Isabelle mumbled against his shoulder. Adrian just shrugged. "Your mother wouldn't have left everything she knew for a bad man." His heart jerked inside of his chest, and he swallowed the sudden lump in his throat. He was saved from responding by the training room door opening. He and Isabelle pulled away from each other and turned to see who it was. Adrian expected to see Alec, since he was due home from a patrol soon, but it was Maryse instead. She smiled when she saw them.
"So," Maryse started, coming fully into the training room. There was something about her smile that made Adrian and Isabelle share a curious look. "I know the two of you have been chafing under the sudden strict rules in the Institute, and I know you've been itching to just go out and hunt but you haven't exactly been allowed to." Adrian and Isabelle both nodded. Ever since the war, the Clave had come down on all Institutes, pushing for stricter regulations when it came to hunting demons or any other creature that went bump in the night. Adrian couldn't help feeling like he and his friends were at fault. Despite defeating a Greater Demon and helping defeat Valentine, the Clave still disapproved of their methods—and they certainly didn't like Clary or her friends.
"Please tell me this is leading up to you giving us a mission?" Isabelle asked, a grin starting to stretch across her face. Adrian felt a similar expression appearing on his own, familiar excitement and adrenaline forming in his chest.
"Well, as the both of you know, after the Mortal War, the Clave decided to spread out the Nephilim more evenly between all the Institutes. As a result, the New York Conclave has grown immensely—but it's still not enough, and we're stretched thin. Lucky for the two of you. We've gotten reports of suspicious activity in an abandoned building about five blocks from here. I suggested you two, and the rest agreed. Are the two of you good to leave in half an hour?"
Immediately, Isabelle and Adrian both said, "Yes."
*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧
"I know this is a hunt usually assigned to children," Adrian said as they crept inside the abandoned building, "but I'm honestly just happy to be given something. I swear, the Clave didn't care about underage Shadowhunters being sent on missions this much before." He smiled as memories swept through his mind. "We used to be able to just go out whenever."
"I think they're just trying to save as many of us from dying too young as possible," Isabelle muttered. She was at Adrian's back, guarding his back as he led the way, a witchlight in his left hand and his staff held loosely in his right. It wasn't activated, the angelic double-blades staying inside of the handle until Adrian needed them. "We lost a lot of warriors in the Mortal War, so I kinda understand why they've been so strict. We're the future of the Nephilim, or whatever. Doesn't mean I like it, though." Adrian shrugged, knowing she had a point but not wanting to admit it. They were past the foyer of the abandoned building—it was pretty small, what seemed to be an empty restaurant—but the shadows made Adrian a bit uneasy. They lapsed into brief silence, and then Isabelle was asking a quick, "What was the suspicious activity again?"
"Maryse said you'd tell me about it." Adrian stopped in his tracks, then narrowed his eyes. "Didn't Maryse brief you on this?" Isabelle paused, then circled around Adrian to look him in the face.
"She told me she briefed you," Isabelle said, raising her eyebrows. Adrian stared at her in confusion for a moment, then glanced around warily at the shadows. It wasn't like Maryse to make such a mistake, and he was beginning to wonder if it was a mistake at all when he heard something move in the shadows. He whipped around, holding the witchlight higher and willing it to shine brighter. Adrian couldn't see the source of the noise, so he glanced over at Isabelle. She gave him a small shake of his head, telling him she didn't know the source of the noise either—just as the necklace around her neck pulsed a deep red. Adrian made the blades shoot out both ends of his staff at the same time Isabelle's whip started unwinding from her wrist. They moved on instinct, moving far enough away to safely use their long-range weapons but still close to protect each other if necessary.
It came from above, the next sound, a sort of slithering like a snake along the floor. Moving quickly, Adrian looked up and threw his witchlight, the light staying ignited by his touch long enough to illuminate what was on the ceiling. The thing that was clinging above them made Adrian's eyes widen in horror. It was clearly a demon, but the fact that there was a demon at all was what was so shocking to him, even with Isabelle's necklace warning them of demon activity still fresh in his mind. What Maryse had described made both him and Isabelle believe it was a simple thing, maybe a vampire hiding out alone in an abandoned building causing too much suspicion with local mundanes. They thought they'd come in, warn the vampire or other Downworlder about secrecy, offer them a stay in the Sanctuary until they could find a place of their own, and then leave. They certainly hadn't expected to see an octopus-like demon clinging to the ceiling, poisonous barbs lining their tentacles, it's head nothing but a mass of boils and eyes.
Adrian moved immediately, ducking out of the way. He didn't have a weapon to get the demon down from the ceiling, but Isabelle did. He ducked and rolled right when her whip cracked through the air, wrapping around two of it's tentacles and cutting them clean off. The scream the demon let out was high-pitched, hurting Adrian's ear drums, but he didn't have time to process the brief moment of pain. The demon was falling a second later, right on top of the very place Adrian had previously been standing. The demon was about as big as a horse and just as tall, but Adrian now recognized as a pretty minor demon, common in New York. The look of it—or any demon, for that matter—was never an easy thing to look at or process, but this was one of the rare instances where the demon looked worse than it was. They were a slow species of demon, the tentacles poisonous but slow moving, the mass of them too heavy. Adrian darted forward, spinning the staff through the air and slicing a tentacle that was in his way. It gave him access to it's head, and he brought the blade of his staff down quick and hard.
The sound of the blade going through it's head made him gag, but he bit it back and jerked his staff back. Luckily, the demon wasn't the type to burst into ichor and guts when killed, but rather the type to simply disappear into nothingness, like it was never there at all. By the time Adrian was stepping back, any trace of the demon was gone. Isabelle twirled her whip in the air and looked around suspiciously, while Adrian found his witchlight and dusted off the dirt it'd collected from the ground. He and Isabelle didn't speak immediately. They simply listened for more noise, listened for any sign that there was more than one demon in the place. It was odd enough that the demon had been awake during the day; they usually slept since they couldn't be in sunlight anyway, and if sleep wasn't an option, they curled up or nested.
"We should look for a nest—" he started.
"There's probably a nest—" Isabelle said at the same time. They both broke off to turn and stare at each other, and then they were grinning, finding joy in how similar their thinking was. Adrian tilted his head toward the corner they had heard the first noise from, raising his witchlight. Isabelle wrapped her whip back around her wrist, then drew the seraph blade out of her belt. Following her lead, Adrian deactivated his staff, put it back into the holster on his back, then reached for his own seraph blade. He murmured an angel's name—Azrael—and Isabelle followed suit—Barachiel—her own voice a bit louder. Just like when they entered, Adrian led with the witchlight while Isabelle covered his back, though the witchlight was hardly necessary by that point. With both their seraph blades glowing with divine light, most of the shadows around them were receding.
"Bingo," Adrian murmured, grimacing as he lowered his arm, putting the seraph blade back into his pocket. In the corner where they had heard the first noise was a nest made out of what looked like animal bones and ripped mundane clothing, splattered with blood. In the center were three rather large eggs, completely black. One of them was cracking open, a small tentacle slipping through. Adrian grimaced and brought his seraph blade down in a quick, swooping arc, cutting through the eggs like a hot knife through butter. The eggs disintegrated like their demon mother had, leaving nothing behind but the disturbing nest. Adrian poked at it with his seraph blood, trying to see if any human remains were in the nest. There didn't seem to be, so he straightened and turned to look at Isabelle. "And your mother didn't warn us about potential demons because...?"
"We're Shadowhunters," Isabelle pointed out, her grin wide. "It's in the job description. Do you think there's more?" She was still riding the high from the fight, though to call it a real fight was a stretch. They had dispatched the demon very easily, and the ease with which they worked with each other made dispatching the demon even easier than it normally would be. Adrian twirled his seraph blade around his hand and looked around the abandoned restaurant thoughtfully.
"No," he decided, shaking his head. "Octopi demons—don't look at me like that, I can't remember their formal name and I shouldn't have to right now—are usually loners, especially when they're building nests. It seems like we interrupted the thing giving birth, actually. There were only three eggs, and don't they give birth to over a hundred?" There was a brief pause as they stared at each other. Adrian grimaced. "Maybe we should search the rest of the place for more eggs?"
"You think?" Isabelle asked with a scoff, and then they were moving, checking every corner and every room, even checking inside the walls where holes were. There weren't anymore eggs, as far as they could see, and Isabelle's necklace was no longer pulsing. They found their way back to each other in the middle of the room, looked over each other quickly out of habit, then headed for the front door. Isabelle started talking soon after, a skip to her step. "You're going to deal with the report later, right? You do have the better handwriting—Mom?" Adrian had pulled the door open to let Isabelle out ahead of him, and that was when Isabelle mentioned her mother. Adrian glanced up, startled, and saw Maryse standing on the sidewalk outside, clearly waiting for them.
"Maryse, what are you doing here?" Adrian asked, letting the restaurant door fall shut behind him and stepping around Isabelle. His face twisted with concern, his brow furrowing. "Did something happen?" Maryse smiled at him, but when she turned her eyes to Isabelle, her smile widened into a bright grin, until she was positively beaming. Adrian and Isabelle shared a confused look. Maryse didn't beam often. It was a little unnerving.
"The two of you have passed your final test," Maryse revealed, clapping her hands together as she approached them. She kissed Isabelle's head first, then brought Adrian close and kissed his cheek. Adrian couldn't return the gesture. He was in too much shock. Isabelle seemed to be in the same state, because her eyes were wide, her jaw loose.
"Our...final test?" Isabelle stuttered out. "Our final parabatai test?" Maryse nodded, still smiling.
"But—" Adrian stopped, shaking his head. "But what about—what were the other tests? When did any of those happen?" Maryse raised her hand through the air.
"I've been keeping an eye on your training, and training is a huge part of the parabatai ceremony. You two train nearly every day, that was the first thing checked off. As for the other tests..." Maryse shrugged her shoulders. "The trial of water was given to you weeks ago, and I wasn't even allowed to tell you about it." She looked between the two of them, at their blank looks, and laughed. "Remember when the two of you both had those horrible nightmares? Where you had to save each other in your dream? That was the test. The Council advised me to give both of you water from Lake Lyn. It made you both hallucinate—or, in your case, have nightmares—about your potential parabatai being in danger. The purpose was to make sure the two of you would choose each other, even if you had to sacrifice someone else. You both passed. Alec and Jace said as much."
Well, that was something Shadowhunters would do. The specifics of the test didn't surprise him—especially now that he knew Lake Lyn was the Mortal Mirror—though he could admit he felt a little violated knowing about it. He had joked plenty about drinking Lake Lyn water, but it was different now that he knew he had consumed some without knowing. Adrian could remember waking Alec up in the middle of the night two weeks ago, crawling into his bed and sharing the nightmare with him, sharing how Isabelle had been in the middle of the ocean, drowning, drowning, drowning. He had dived into the water after her without a second thought; it hadn't occurred to him that he'd had autonomy in his nightmare until that very moment.
"Was your nightmare in the middle of the ocean?" Adrian asked, just to be sure. Just for the relief he would feel knowing that this was actually happening, that being drugged with Lake Lyn water was worth it, even if he hadn't known about it until now. Isabelle looked at him with wide eyes, then nodded slowly. Adrian let out a shuddering breath and looked at Maryse. "So, this little mission, it was...?"
"One last basic test to review your skills and partnership," Maryse explained patiently, "which you passed with flying colors. As you should have." She sniffed then, putting her hands on her hips as she raised her chin proudly. "I had a hand in your training, after all." Adrian started to grin.
"Wait, so," Isabelle cut in, raising her hands in the air. "That means we're becoming parabatai? Officially?" Maryse's proud smile turned softer, and she reached out a hand to cup Isabelle's cheek.
"Yes," Maryse confirmed. "Your parabatai ceremony is scheduled for Saturday morning." Saturday morning. That was three days away.
He and Isabelle were going to be parabatai in three days.
Maryse barely had enough time to cover her ears before Adrian and Isabelle both started screaming.
*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧
Adrian and Isabelle didn't go home after being told they would officially become parabatai. Maryse gave them the rest of the night off, giving her blessing for them to celebrate in whatever way they wanted. They talked about multiple things to do as they walked down sidewalks and jumped into random taxis. They briefly talked about going to the Downworlder club, Pandemonium, but that was quickly brushed off. They hadn't been there since Clary had tumbled into their lives, and neither were sure the place would be fun anymore or not. They talked about going to various Downworlder bars and restaurants as well, but those were dismissed, too. They were both excited and jumpy, unable to sit still, wanting the cold winter air of New York on their faces.
In the end, they both mutually decided to just walk and walk and walk, talking to each other excitedly, taking random turns and crossing random streets until they were in areas they weren't as familiar with. They stopped to drawn warmth runes on the inside of their wrists at a street corner when Isabelle started glancing around.
"Where'd you lead us?" Isabelle asked, elbow digging gently into Adrian's side. Adrian let out a small sound of complaint, finishing up his rune before looking around. It took him a moment to recognize where they were, to recognize the trees lining the street, the cracked sidewalk and the street sign at the curb. He could see the edge of a white picket fence, could see the outline of an apple tree, though it was bare now, the cold stopping any other apples from growing. They were at Greenwich Road, right on front of Alice Montgomery's lawn.
Why in hell had he led them there?
"Dear God," Adrian said, twisting on his heel and reaching for Isabelle's hand. "We're leaving. Right now. I don't know why—I didn't mean to lead us—Izzy, hurry—" Abruptly, Isabelle stopped moving, rooting herself to the sidewalk and jerking her wrist free of his grip. He turned to see her staring at him sternly, her hands on her hips, echoing her mother's stance from earlier. Adrian stared at her for a moment, then sighed and let his shoulders slump, feeling a tad defeated.
"This is where they live," Isabelle said quietly, "isn't it?" Adrian glanced at her once, then looked away. He glued his gaze to the white picket fence. He didn't want to see the house itself, didn't want to notice any differences. He didn't even want to know if they were home, didn't want to see the windows illuminated with light, or to see them dark. Isabelle stared at him for a few more moments, then dug out her stele and stepped forward. Without a word, she tugged his sleeve up and activated his glamour rune on his forearm before doing the same thing herself. The air rippled around their bodies, and while Adrian could still see her just fine, anyone else without the Sight wouldn't see them at all. She pocketed the stele afterward, then studied his face. Adrian couldn't remember the last time she had looked so serious. "Adrian," Isabelle said slowly, "you came here for a reason. You want to tell her—your mom—about us becoming parabatai, don't you?" Adrian opened his mouth, closed it, then broke completely and turned to look at the house.
"I don't know," he admitted. He saw now that the lights were on in the house, and he saw someone pass across the living room window. He could see the layout in his mind, the dozens of pictures on the walls, the staircase, the kitchen toward the back with glass slide doors leading to the back yard. The wooden dining table, the kitchen island counter, the white china Alice had put their tea in. Adrian found himself stepping closer to the fence. He secured his hands around the wood to keep himself grounded and looked back at Isabelle. "I didn't even realize I was leading us this way. I wasn't even thinking about her—about them. Not really." He reached up to rub the back of his neck, sighing. "C'mon. let's just go. I don't want to disturb them again. Not until I'm sure."
"Are you sure?" Isabelle asked. Neither of them had moved even after Adrian voiced his desire to leave, perhaps for a good reason. Adrian could've left if he had truly wanted to. But he stayed, and he kept staring at the house, wondering why he even was in the first place. Isabelle let him think for a moment, then stepped closer and put her chin on Adrian's shoulder. "I can walk up there. Ask for Alice to come out, and only her, so you two can talk."
"No," Adrian said immediately, shaking his head. "I don't think I'm ready for an actual talk." He paused, then scoffed. "Some brave warrior I am. I can kill a demon no problem, but talking to my own mother? Nope, that seems to be too much for me." He scoffed again, shaking his head. "This is a literal fucking nightmare."
"Hey," Isabelle said, smacking him on the arm. "You just learned you were adopted, during a literal war, at that. So much has happened. You can't expect to just process everything all in one go. Something was going to give eventually, and this—your mom, your secret mundane family, all of it—would be hard on anyone. You're not dealing with this too slowly, Dri. You're just dealing with it as best as you know how. Don't be so hard on yourself, okay?"
"Easy for you to say—"
"What the hell are you doing here?"
Adrian and Isabelle both froze, eyes widening in alarm. As one, they turned on their heels, so startled at being addressed while glamoured that they actually reached for the weapons at their belts. Adrian stopped first, recognizing the boy coming toward them up the sidewalk. There was a sports bag over his shoulder, brown hair cut short. His brown eyes—the same as Adrian's own—were narrowed in annoyance. It was his brother, but Adrian couldn't tell Isabelle that, his throat suddenly clamped shut.
"Who are you?" Isabelle demanded, scowling.
"Michael Montgomery," his brother said, scowling back. Adrian felt his lungs seize in his chest. Michael. Adrian's own middle name was Michael. Had Alice and Adam named his little brother after him, or had they named him after their now-dead godfather, Michael Wayland, to honor him in a different way than when they had named Adrian after him? He couldn't decide if it was touching or cruel either way. "Who are you?"
"Isabelle Lightwood, and watch your tone," Isabelle said immediately, stepping forward almost protectively, her shoulder brushing Adrian's arm. "Judging from how you just greeted us, I'm assuming you know who Adrian is. Am I right?" Michael's scowl deepened.
"He's kinda hard to forget," Michael said through gritted teeth, "considering after he left, my mom cried for literal hours." Adrian sucked in a sharp, startled breath, and the sound made Michael pin him with a cold glare. The worst thing about his obvious antagonism toward Adrian was that Adrian completely understood it. As far as Michael knew, Adrian showed up, made their mother cry, then left. Adrian would've reacted the same way if he was in Michael's position. "What do you want?"
"I—I don't want anything," Adrian said, rather weakly, and was rewarded with a scoff. Adrian tried to fix it by clarifying. "I don't want anything from you, Michael. Or from Alice. I just wanted to..." He trailed off, still insure of what he actually wanted.
"So you decided to come here—you decided to seek us out, find out where we live, show up on our doorstep, disrupt our lives—just to say you don't want anything to do with us?" Michael demanded. Adrian immediately opened his mouth to correct him, wincing. He hadn't meant it that way at all, but it was too late. Michael was too heated about the entire situation to listen to Adrian's explanations, and Adrian couldn't even blame him. Not after learning that Alice had cried for hours after he'd left the house. "You shouldn't have ever stepped foot in our house unless you were going to stay. Unless you meant it. Now my mom is sad all the time because she keeps waiting for you to show back up and you never do. She's miserable—"
"Oh, that's such bullshit," Isabelle snapped. Adrian reached for her arm, tried to stop her, but she was barreling forward, her face turning red. "It's not Adrian's fault the Clave didn't let her take him. It's not Adrian's fault he didn't even know he was adopted until very recently." Her mouth twisted into something a little crueler. "Adrian wasn't the one who left his child in the care of an abusive prick. A man who only saw him once a year, a man who shipped Adrian off to the first Institute who would take him when he didn't want to see him and a man who slapped him around when he did. If your mother wasn't willing to face Adrian after all these years, then maybe she shouldn't have left him a token allowing him to find her in the first place—"
"Isabelle," Adrian snapped, his chest feeling tight with anxiety. He didn't like what was happening, didn't like the anger in the air, the shifting of blame. This was no one's fault. Alice was allowed to feel overwhelmed, allowed to cry, just as much as Adrian was. And he certainly had never wanted to reveal what Malachi Dieudonne had done to him his entire life. He hadn't wanted his mother to know that the man she had trusted had turned out to be a monster. But it was too late to keep that in now. Michael had gone pale at the words, his anger melting away and replaced with something akin to horror. Beneath his angry protectiveness of their mother, it seemed Michael did care about Adrian. Cared about him enough to look like he was going to be sick when hearing about Adrian being abused.
"She always said she left you with someone she trusted," Michael said eventually, after a long moment of silence. His voice was much quieter than before. Adrian studied his face for a moment, then sighed.
"She thought she did," Adrian responded, offering Michael a small smile. Michael seemed confused by the gesture, like he expected Adrian to fight back. He was in for a rude awakening if that was the type of dynamic. Adrian was tired of fighting with people he cared about. "But I'm fine now. I live in the New York Institute. I'm taken care of there. If you tell her about this, don't—don't mention my adoptive dad. Just mention the New York Institute and the Lightwoods. Tell her they love me. That's all."
Adrian didn't wait for Michael's response. He just grabbed Isabelle's wrist and jerked her up the sidewalk, getting as far away from Michael and his family as he could get.
*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Michael and Isabelle both made points, lowkey. Adrian did kinda waltz in, disrupt their family life, and then disappear without a trace. So I can't really blame him for being resentful. Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed, and please go check out my TID fic, "Sweetener." I just posted the first chapter xoxo
INTRODUCING THE MONTGOMERY FAMILY...
paul rudd as adam
arielle kebbel as alice
cody christian as michael
young!talitha bateman as young!abigail