Fragile Hearts (TID - Will Herondale fanfic)

Chapter 32: Ifrits Den

ELEANORA'S POV
"Well, where are you two going?" I say, crossing my arms over my chest.

Jem and Tessa freeze. Upon their hurry to exit Will's room, they failed to notice me leaning against the wall with one leg up next to my door.

Tessa hesitates, and I shake my head. "Of course. Will. I'm going with you."

"Okay then," Jem says. "You're already dressed anyway. Let's go."

I dart into my room and grab my cloak, then head out as I put the hood on.

"We're not telling Charlotte, I suppose?"

"No," Tessa says, her voice urgent.

We head out of the Institute and Cyril is waiting, Balios and Xanthos both ready.

We climb into the carriage, and then we're off into the silent night.

~

During the ride, Tessa and Jem talk softly, but I barely pay attention. My eyes are on the road.

The carriage finally stops and the three of us climb out. Jem looks at Tessa.

"I can't glamour you against the glances of mundanes," he says. "So keep your head down and keep close to me."

"What about Ella?"

"She can take care of herself," Jem says.

"And I can't?"

"Not well enough," I mutter, pushing forward.

I head toward a narrow door painted red. There are steps around it, but unlike all the other steps in the area, they are bare. No one is sitting on them. Jem follows behind me, moving quickly, pulling Tessa up after him, and I knock sharply on the door.

It'a opened after a moment by a woman in a long red dress. Warlock.

  "No," she says, noticing me and Jem. "No Nephilim."

She moves to shut the door, but Jem raises his cane; the blade shoots out from the base of it, holding the door open wide. "No trouble," he says. "We're not here for the Clave. It's personal."

The warlock narrows her eyes.

"We're looking for someone," Jem continues. "A friend. Take us to him, and we won't bother you further."

At that, she throws her head back and laughs. "I know who you're looking for," she says. "There's only one of your kind here." She turns away from the door with a shrug of contempt. Jem's blade slides back into its casing with a hiss, and he ducks under the low lintel, drawing Tessa in after him, me following behind.

Beyond the door is a narrow corridor. A heavy sweet smell hangs on the air, like the smell that hangs about Jem's clothing after he has taken his drug.

"This is where Will comes to buy the- to buy what I need," he whispers, inclining his head to Tessa so that his lips nearly touches her ear. "Although why he would be here now. . ."

The corridor widens out into a large room, its walls painted dark red.

Along the walls are arranged beds, in bunks, like the inside of a ship. A large round table dominates the center of the room. At it sits a number of men, all ifrits.

  I swallow, biting my lower lip as I hear Jem and Tessa whispering to each other.

The warlock returns but I don't pay attention to what she's saying to Tessa and Jem. Instead, my eyes rake across the room.