There might simply be nothing going on that might activate it. Perhaps there isn't anything here that Alec is afraid of."
Magnus glanced at Alec and raised his eyebrows. "Boo."
Luke and Magnus, pg. 285

... We are Nephilim; we fight our own battles."
"That's not precisely true, is it?" said a velvety voice. It was Magnus Bane, wearing a long and glittering coat, multiple hoops in his ears, and a roguish expression. Clary had no idea where he'd come from. "You lot have used the help of warlocks on more than one occasion in the past, and paid handsomely for it too."
Malachi scowled. "I don't remember the Clave inviting you into the Glass City, Magnus Bane."
"They didn't," Magnus said. "Your wards are down."
"Really?" the Consul's voice dripped sarcasm. "I hadn't noticed."
Magnus looked concerned. "That's terrible. Someone should have told you." He glanced at Luke. "Tell him the wards are down.

Magnus, you were trying to flirt with your own plate."

"I'm a very open-minded sort of fellow!

Black hair and blue eyes are my favorite combination.

Magnus gazed dreamily in his direction. "You should leave him here. I could hang hats on him and things.

Speaking of hope, did you see that shot Alec got off with his bow? That's my boyfriend.