Magnus fixed him with a look, brows arched. "Four hundred years, Alexander," he reminded him. "Yes, every once in a while, I wish I could see something different." Even age. He did not want to give up his immortality. He did not want to die. But some change to his face to mark the years: laugh lines, crows feet, a scar. Magnus was vain as a peacock and he knew it, but he would have suffered the ding to his ego for a tiny bit of real change.

He considered his coffee mug, now half full, as he thought about Alec's question about Luke. "I'm saying it's a good thing Luke was able to see what was in front of him," he said. "He could have spent his time here forever thinking of home, unwilling to move on. And, I think, one day he will go home and Jocelyn will be there and he'll be happy. But he's here and so is Spencer and they make each other happy now. That's a good thing."