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A Kind of Magic

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In this moment Thomas had one goal and that was to make it to the Devil Tavern. As fast as possible.

It wasn't because he was running from something but because he needed to be alone. This was the closest place he could think of where he could be alone for now. He knew that James and Matthew were training together in the Institute and Christopher was with Henry doing their new experiment with that ichor. So their room should be empty, right?

When he entered the establishment he barely looked at the people there. He smiled at Polly and nodded at a few other Downworlders but didn't stop to chat like usual.

Thomas tramped upstairs to their room, wanting air. He opened some of the old windows and looked at Fleet Street. It was almost lunch. He had to meet with Lucie soon.

By the Angel, Thomas had to calm down and to put himself together. He couldn't do anything in his current state. He ran a hand through his hair and took a deep breath.

The problem was one particular person. One person with sharp tongue, fair hair and black eyes. His face was in front of Tom's sight. This one vision he just couldn't escape.

The Carstairs arrival shouldn't have been be surprising. At all. It was common knowledge that Lucie and Cordelia are gonna be parabatai. He just hadn't think about it much. Because thinking about the Carstairs means thinking about Alastair. And this always reminded him of Paris. And how confused he was after that. Thomas still was confused. Just less then before.

Love is confusing, Thomas thought. And strange. Like some spell on you which makes you dizzy. Some dark magic that stretches your heart with killing hope.

Yes, this should be. A kind of magic.

When Thomas finally arrived at the Institute Lucie was already waiting for him in the ballroom. Many books and papers were in the big table which they usually used when they're here.

“Sorry for being late” said Thomas guiltily.

Lucie just smiled at him, clearly in a good mood.
“Don’t worry. I'm not in hurry.”

Thomas pulled a chair to sit, facing Lucie.
“You said you need help with a translation?”

“That's right,” she said excitedly. Lucie bring in front of him few papers which he knew were drafts of Lucie's tales. She liked this paper and used it to write on.
“So, you know about the Carstairs arrival, right?”

Thomas managed to nod. His heart was beating fast.
“Anna told me about an hour ago.”

Lucie smiled happily.
“I heard about it today as well. And wanted to do something special for Daisy.” Lucie took a few other papers and two books. Dictionaries, Thomas realized. “And I came up with this: to translate The Beautiful Cordelia in Persian.”

Thomas raised eyebrows, distracted from his thoughts of Alastair for a moment.
“Luce, you have been writing it since you were twelve. To translate it all... it would take weeks. Months.

“I know,” she sighed. “Four years writing. I know there no chance to do it before their arrival. But I thought it may be ready for our parabatai ceremony.” Lucie looked at all the paper on the table and smiled hopefully at him. “However, that's why I wanted your help, Tom. With you beside me it would be so much faster! So... Will you help?” asked Lucie, pleading.

“Of course Luce!” said Thomas without hesitation. “No need to ask. But do you know when will be your ceremony?”

“No idea” said Lucie honestly. “But I believe we can choose the date. I will convince Cordelia to be in a time after we are ready.”

“You thought about everything, didn't you?” Thomas smiled.

Lucie laughed.
“We are talking about my parabatai after all. Now, let's begin!”

“Let's begin,” Thomas repeated. There were a lot of work to be done.

When Thomas entered the Devil Tavern for the second time this day it was almost evening. 

He was with Matthew and James. Together they left the Institute, already in gear, ready to hunt demons. They had to take Christopher before the fall of the night to start patrolling London's streets.

“I just have to pick up some knifes I forgot the last time,” James said. “It won't take long.”

“Jamie loves his knifes too much sometimes” sighed his parabatai.

So now Matthew and Thomas were waiting for him. Matthew ordered one drink for himself but Thomas didn't want. He prefered his mind to be clear before a battle.

His charming friend chated with Polly who was already laughing.

Thomas aksed  himself if he should take something to eat. He hadn't eat anything since he met with Lucie. Maybe this could stop his thoughts to wander around Alastair Carstairs.

“Hey Tom,” Matthew called him. Thomas didn't realize when his conversion with Polly ended. “Isn't Christopher the one who usually isn't here?” he asked with a smile.

Thomas tried to smile back but Matthew was right. His mind was elsewhere.

“I'm fine,” he said. He hoped he was not a liar.
Matthew drank from the drink a little, still looking at Thomas.

“Is there someone special?” he asked, curious.

Thomas didn't answer.

“Is it that werewolf girl who was running after you for while?”

“By the Angel, Matthew,” he sighed.

Thomas still felt a little embarrassed thinking about the whole situation. Her name was Bella. She was chasing him for a few weeks and was absolutely shameless. In the end Thomas forced himself to tell her that he liked another person and didn't want she to get hurt, which was true. Bella was very disappointed but said she's fine. Asked about this person though but Thomas refused to tell her anything. It felt too private to share it with someone else.

He thought about Alastair again. For long, maybe longer then Thomas wanted to admit, the Persian was the only one he thought about this way.

There was thousand little things about him. Flash of light in his eyes. The sweet illusion of his hands. His voice. His everything. One heart. One soul. He was the glimpse of the brightest dream in the dark rains.
Thomas felt breathless. The love wasn't what he ever imagined it would be. There's no black and no white. It was all the colors at one.


He startled and looked at Matthew. He forgot that his friend was still there.

“There is definitely someone,” Matthew said, already grinning.

“Are you hungry?” Thomas asked, desperate to change the topic.

Polly came near them, rising an eyebrow.

“Do I know this person? Is it a lady or a gentleman?” the blond keep asking, ignoring Tom's question.

Thomas looked at Polly, trying not to blush.
“Just gimme fried chicken,” he murmured.