Author's Note: I haven't looked at this story in a while, but I noticed it was on my computer so here ya go.

The moment Clary materializes outside my shop, my fingers grow cold. The two men with her are tall, lean, with runes dancing across their skin. They're huddled together, whispering amongst themselves, muffled by the heavy door that keeps me safe from them. If she's with the shadowhunters, I'm no longer safe.

When the bolt clicks in place, they glance through the window, and I draw the curtain. My hands shake, the deep brown of my skin swirling into a lighter golden. Damnit. I can't keep the glamour anymore. With a flick of my wrist, invisible gates slam down around my shop.

"Nyx," Clary calls my name, banging against the door. "Please open the door. We just want to talk."

"I don't talk to shadowhunters," I say. And even if I did, I wouldn't be talking to the Lightwoods. The clock above the backdoor clicks with Clary's banging. A glow seeps in through the cracks in the door. If I don't get out soon, their runes are going to fry my gates. I tuck a shawl around my shoulders to keep out the bitter chill that comes with early spring.

"You've talked to me before," she whines.

The locks in the front door are clicking, each tick a reminder that I'm running out of time to get out.

I throw the back door open, and take a step back. I'm blinded by panic, adrenaline seeping through my veins. The tree-line is just a few meters away. I can make it. My foot touches the deck and I'm thrust back.

Pain erupts from my backside, spreading up to my shoulders. My body is pinned beneath a force, an invisible cloak anchoring me to the floor. I'd know that power anywhere. "Magnus," I force out a breath. It's hard to breathe beneath the weight of such power.

"Nyxie." I can hear the smile in his voice. "It's so good to see you again." He's just outside the door, physically unable to get past my gates. "Your magic has gotten stronger."

"I wish I could say the same." My shoulder grinds against the ground, and I grit my teeth. "And unfortunately, my magic doesn't seem to be quite strong enough."

The front door slams against the wall. Clary's footsteps are always the same, clacking against the hardwood floors in heels. "Magnus, don't hurt her."

Alec and Jace Lightwood are at her side. Legendary Parabatai shadowhunters. I doubt there's a Downworlder who hasn't heard of them. And ever since their breakup, Magnus has been a loose cannon; Alec puts all of his energy into catching demons. That's the word on the street, anyway.

I press my palms against the cold floor, pushing my power into it. Slowly. Just enough to get by unnoticed. The floorboards creak and fold into themselves. It starts at my spine, the middle of my back, and expands to my head and feet. The weight of Magnus' cloak makes it easier.

I'm sinking through the cracks. Their voices are muffled by the pounding of magic through my ears as its power courses through my veins. It starts in the veins and flows through to the arteries. Then follows the blood to muscle tissue. It expands until every inch of my skin is lightning. White hot, burning.

I haven't screamed because of the pain in years.

The floor swallows me, folding over my body, and again I'm separated from the threat.

My feet splash when I hit the floor of my basement. Dust leaves nothing uncovered down here. It's pretty empty, save for a few extra herbs that haven't seen the light of day since Magnus used to come around for no reason other than to catch up. I guess some things do change.

Something was very funny that day. Funny enough and sentimental enough that I started looking at Magnus differently. In a way I wasn't supposed to. He had this melodramatic charm about him that I couldn't seem to tear my eyes away from.

Martini in hand, he sat back in his chair. His chair—the one that sat in the corner of my basement. It was for him, and him alone.

"We're going to be in so much trouble," I giggled, my martini sloshing around. I wasn't sure if I was drunk or high, or perhaps I was both. The room spun fire. A gold and red tapestry hung behind Magnus, a silhouette against his body.

"By who?" he asked, and took a sip of his drink. "Who is going to tell, little duck? Are you?"

I shook my head, hair flinging in my eyes. "I won't tell a soul." And I never did. There were some secrets that needed to stay buried.

They say the past is the past, but they also say our pasts come back to haunt us. Which is it? It can't be one if it's the other.

Unless that's the real chaos of mundane life.

I shove my foot behind a dusty book shelf and nudge it just enough to fit behind it. I secure it back behind me.

The tunnels connected to the basement of my shop stretch on for miles. The whole tunnel system is spread throughout the entire city of Brooklyn. I can get from one side of town to the other in a matter of minutes, depending on how fast I run.

Unfortunately, I'm not the only one that knows about the tunnels. Once I reach a certain depth in the tunnels, there's no light. I veer off the main pathway to a tunnel I know will take me just to the outskirts of the city.

A ladder is plastered against the wall with some sort of slime. Raising a hand, I push up, and the sewer grating comes loose. It lands in the grass, thump.

The smell of grass is the smell of freedom. I'm out of Magnus' range on Staten Island. But I'll have to keep moving. My freedom won't last for long. He knows me better than anyone. He'll find me before anyone even knows I'm gone.

I could always track his magic, but he'd sense me doing it. And when he does, he'll come looking for me on Staten Island, and I'll portal back to Brooklyn. It's foolproof. It has to be. This has to work. If nothing else, it'll buy me enough time to pack a bag, get a passport, something, anything that'll keep me off the radar and keep me alive.

I close my eyes and place my arms at my side, palms up, fingers spread wide.

"It's no use."

The blood in my veins goes cold, and I freeze. But the voice compels me to turn, to face it. And so I do.

Alec Lightwood is the most lethal of all shadowhunters. He'll cut down a demon without a second thought. Unfortunately, that includes me.

I raise my hands in peace. I don't want to die today.

"Don't move," Alec says. "Nyxie Brooks, you're coming with me." His biceps strain against the weight of the bow string. His eyes are powerful, commanding. They can cut me to pieces with a single glance. Beneath such a heavy stare, I am powerless.