"Where is he?" demanded Clary, looking expectantly at Brother Zachariah - Jem, she reminded herself. His name is James Carstairs. He was beautiful, she thought, with a hitch in her chest. Stark black hair, dark glistening eyes, pale skin. For some reason the boy reminded her of Alec. "Where's Jace? Is he in there? Can I-can I see him-?"

Clary started forward, but Jem, moving gracefully, blocked her path. He was tall, she realized, probably a few inches shorter than Jace. But still, he seemed to tower over her. "Jace is..." He hesitated. "Not in the best way right now-"

"I have to see him." She moved as if to push past him, but he reached out and placed his hands on her shoulders. She glared up at him. "What is your problem, Zachariah? Just because you lost your parabatia, you suddenly feel the need to have Jace all to yourself? Is it because both he and Will are Herondales? Is that-?"

"William Herondale." When he spoke his name, she noticed with a twinge of guilt, his eyes were full of sadness. He did not free his grasp as he spoke. "Will and I were like brothers," he said. "But it wasn't just because we were parabatia. The bond we bared went deeper than that." He looked down at Clary, blinking, as if snapped awake from his memories.

Clary sighed. She remembered what Tessa Gray had told her of William Herondale, and of their children, whom they'd named after Jem. She forced back tears, imagining how Jace would feel if he lost his parabatia. But of course, she thought sadly, Magnus had made sure no harm would come to Alec. She remembered Alec, cradling Magnus's limp body in his arms, his blue eyes alight with tears. She saw in her minds eye Alec pressing a delicate kiss to his mouth, and Magnus had whispered a breath, his last - and shook her head.

"I'll make a deal," said Clary. "If you let me see Jace, I'll give you the cat. You can have Church."

The corner of Jem's mouth twitched. He pulled away, grinning. "I would do anything for that demented cat," he said. "But that does sound like a tempting offer." He held out his hand, and Clary took it, shook it once. "Deal."

As soon as Clary stepped into the room, bright light stabbed her eyes. She blinked as they adjusted.

Jace's bedroom, as always, was remarkably neat. A stack of books lay atop the windowsill, their ragged pages discoloured from their use. The lace curtains were drawn aside, letting in a square pool of afternoon sun.

For a moment Clary thought the brilliant light was coming from the window, but then she saw Jace, and a gasp rose in her throat. He lay, immobile across the bed, his arms knit tightly to his sides, his hands clenched into tight fists. He was shirtless, his bare torso soaked with sweat. Clary started with a jolt when she saw the unfamiliar rune carved into his skin, glowing with a faint light, as if there were light seeping out of him. A white sheet was pulled up to his waist. His eyes were closed, his hair darkened to a mousy halo with sweat.

"Alec?" He sounded strained, in pain. "Alec, is that you?"

Clary inched forward, sat down on the bed beside him. His chest rose and fell steadily, the pulse pumping in his throat. "It's me. Clary."

He froze, his chest falling with a final breath. For a moment Clary thought he was dead, but then he inhaled a sharp breath, and the pulse in his throat quickened. "Clary," he said, to no one in particular. He opened his eyes, and it was her time to freeze. They were no longer their calming, honey gold, but an orange-red, boring into hers like needles. "Brother Zachariah... He said no visitors-"

"I traded you," said Clary. "For Church."

A smile tugged at his lips. "Well, I'll be damned. I would've thought I'd be more expensive than a cat. Couldn't you have traded me for something a little more... appropriate? Like Buckingham Palace?"

Clary decided to ignore this. Instead she reached for his hand - but Jace, his eyes widening, scrambled off the bed, away from her. "No," he whispered. "Don't touch me."

The sheet fell away from him, exposing his toned abs and the V line of his abdomen. His black jeans rode low on his hips. Clary stared at him, distracted by his beauty. His eyes flared suddenly as he looked down at her. He looked almost... hungry. Predatory.

She rose to her feet. "What is it? What does that mean... on your chest? And your... your eyes..."

"Heavenly Fire," he said. "It's... strength is uncontrollable. I can't control my thoughts, my actions. Jem used a cooling rune to decrease the burning. It isn't... working." The last word was dragged through clenched teeth.

"Jace-" She started toward him, but he backed up against the wall. He looked as if he were about to throw up.

"No, Clary." His voice was urgent, demanding. "Don't come any closer. I'll hurt you. I'll hurt you and I won't even realize I'm doing it."

Clary slowed her pace, approaching him slowly. "You won't hurt me." She sounded more certain than she felt. "You can't possibly hurt me, not after what we've been through together." She thought of Lilith with her coiled whip, Sebastian with his wicked, predatory grin - and shuddered.

"No, Clary-"

But it was too late.

She threw herself at him, her fingers lacing through his hair. His body against hers was like embracing a gigantic flame. He was hot to the touch, burning her skin like lava.

She clenched her teeth, refusing to pull away even as he tried to pry her arms from him. "Clary," he whispered into her hair. His hands stopped tugging, and his arms wrapped around her waist, sternly, the force lifting her off the ground. "You are the most..."

"The most what?"

"The most fearless person to ever walk into my life," he finished. "I was a stranger to you, and you saved me. You saved me... You..."

"Shh." Clary pulled away. Gazing into his eyes was like looking directly at the sun. Her eyes filled with tears from their intensity.

Jace cupped her chin with his hands, catching a tear on the tip of his thumb. He reached down and pressed his lips to her cheek, her eyes, shaping the curve of her jaw, until finally, they found her lips.

The kiss wasn't like any she'd experienced before, even with Jace. Soft lips, hesitant fingers, mumbled protests. But this was different. There was no space between them. His lips forced hers open, aggressive and urgent. He tasted metallic, like burning metal. She was about to pull away, to say his skin was burning her, hurting her, when he moaned low in his throat.

That was it for Clary.

Her fingers tightened in his hair as she hitched her knees around his waist. Her heart hammered inside her chest, thumping against her rib cage, drumming through her ears. All her thoughts were pushed aside, pleasure and desire taking over completely. She fell into the kiss, into the heat of it, like a burning sun, letting it cloak her with its warmth. Jace's hands were clamped around her thighs; his fingernails dug into her skin. In other circumstances it would have made her wince, but it didn't. The pain only made her pull him closer, and she knew, in that instant, that she wanted him. Wanted him so there was no space separating them.

"Clary, Clary, Clary," Jace gasped. He pulled back, breathing hard. His cheeks were suffused with blood, his eyes shining and wavering like flames of red fire. "I don't think this is-"

Clary didn't get to find out what he was going to say, because in that moment, the desire drove her. She smiled against his mouth, forcing his lips apart. Another moan rumbled up from deep in his throat, though it was more of a defeated sound than anything. Gripping her thighs, he carried her over to the bed. They collapsed onto the bedsheets in a mass of gasps and sweat. Her knees hitched around his hips, her fingers lacing through his hair, her nails raking across the length of his back, her hands exploring his body.

Jace lay with his elbows resting on either side of her head, as he always did. She wished he wasn't so careful. "Jace," she breathed, just as his hands found the hem of her shirt and his burning fingers grazed her bare stomach. She flinched at their touch. "You needn't be so careful. I won't break."

He looked down at her, his expression hesitant. His eyes burned with hunger, and Clary was suddenly reminded of her brother, his eyes dark and empty, with only their predatory expressions. But, "I love you," was all he said, and then he was kissing her again, or she was kissing him - she couldn't tell. She was lost in the burning desire, the pleasure of his skin on hers, the closeness of him. His fingers slid up her curves under her shirt, over her rib cage, until they reached her breasts. He fiddled with the bra strap beneath her, his hands slippery with sweat. When he undone the strap, he reached for her shirt, drawing it over her head and tossing it across the room. Clary had never felt so exposed, so vulnerable, but she felt safe and whole and wanted.

She closed her eyes as his lips grazed her neck, teeth biting hard. Her hands slid over his bare chest, her palms sticky with sweat, until they reached his waist. Her fingers hooked into the waistband of his jeans, and she undone the belt. They came loose. Jace kicked them off where they they dropped to the floor.

He looked at her for a moment, breathing hard, his eyes taking her in. "Beautiful," he whispered. And then he gulped. "Are you sure...?"

Clary forced back a chuckle. She had exposed herself to him, and now he was asking if she wanted to stop? No, she thought. It was too late to turn back now. She was tired of saying no to Jace. She reached up, touched his cheek. "I've never been more sure of anything in my life."

He lips found hers again, and he covered her body with his.