Overwhelmed [3] 《SHADOWHUNTERS》

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Hardly an hour of daylight had gone by before Alec and Andy arrived back home. They felt rushed by their deep distrust in the elite guards who had been left to their own devices. The pair knew they were right to ignore Magnus' comments about their "purposeless frenzy" as soon as they stepped into the front hall. Their focus was thrown by the barrage of chatter that shouldn't have been present with their small, local forces. More soldiers must have been invited into their home without the Head of the Institute's permission. 

Alec looked down to his second-in-command, finding her jaw shifting as she sucked on her cheek, a small way to mitigate the anger that flared. "It's not even seven," she let the ordinary complaint escape her when she noticed his eyes on her. Suddenly, all the attempts to convince herself that it would be a good day went out the window. Her plans to make a pie diminished, as well as the fantasy that Jace was already back and had sorted everything out with the Clave on his own.

Alec's gaze trailed off as he lost her to her thoughts. He knew he needed to exert his authority, and he'd gotten better at it, but on four hours of sleep, his mind ticked by like a watch in need of a battery change. He forced himself to peer into the doorway towards mission control, where unknown Shadowhunters swept in the way of those he knew well. He didn't catch sight of the intruders' leaders and decided to head back to where they had failed to snoop the night before.

Andy hardly registered when he walked in front of her, an afterthought as she shuffled in his shadow. All she knew was that it lead her away from the sea of strangers that she did not wish to greet. She rubbed her eyes and failed to stifle an oddly pitched yawn that took over her shoulders. Alec couldn't help but glance at her, a bit concerned by the noise. She just offered him a heavy-lidded glance; he of all people should have understood her exhaustion. 

They carried on towards the library's main entrance that allowed one to gaze upon the edges of the room that weren't tucked behind shelves. The Angel's statue was touched by the delicate hue of dawn. Papers ruffled softly and a scattering of footsteps explored the place, but the individuals could not be seen as Alec descended the stairs. He only found the welcome sight of Megan Rhozeit, a short teenager hardly older than Max that had just been moved to the city with her family this past month. Her father had volunteered to assist the Institute in its Downworld Council, and the child's presence was a glaring reminder of why they really needed to interview tutors.

She was nuzzled into one of the couches that was strewn about the space, legs claiming the rest of the cushions. A mug was perched precariously on the semi-precious furniture that her elbow edged dangerously close as she turned a page of the book in her lap. Andy brushed Alec's arm gently as she caught up to his dwindled pace, well aware of why he stared. It was a gentle image so close to his younger brother's old habits, a sweet reminder of growing up in this building.

But the sweetness did not last long. As he walked, he gained a better view of what else went on within the room. Four guards shuffled through papers that neither he nor Andy had given them permission to touch – it made Alec guiltily glad that the documents they'd found at the old asylum from the Circle were still at Magnus'. He stepped forward to confront two soldiers that struggled to install a security camera, one holding a wavering chair as he failed to decipher instructions whilst the other balanced himself with a screwdriver in hand. Alec was abrasive as he barked, "What are you doing?"

The soldiers' attention was gained quickly. Andy sneered when the one on the chair looked at her as if she may hold Alec back or jump in to save them. They had severely misjudged her if they believed that. The other stranger defended themselves, "We're working on orders–."

"To do what?" Alec snapped, and Andy's brow raised a bit. It had been a while since she'd seen him so short. When they were told that it was to look through the logs, the Head of the Institute was ready to gnash his teeth against his tongue. He didn't have to voice to them that they had acted out of line and needed to leave, though it took effort to curb temptation to yell. He watched them go with a hawkish-look, well-versed from his parents in the act of asserting oneself.