++++++ Yeah I know...another fic...I can't help it. I've been meaning to do a Mortal Instruments fic for a while and the recent release of Shadowhunters had helped me spit one out.

This will have canon pairings:

JacexClary

SimonxIzzy

AlecxMagnus

JocelynxLuke

I'll work on relationships later.

A special thanks to Suki Uchiha Lamprouge for letting me bounce ideas and listening to my insane ramblings when I need a mind to bounce them off.

I hope you enjoy.

I do not own ++++++

One

"Oh my God it's raining!" she squealed in delight as a raindrop fell on her nose. "Babe it's raining!"

He laughed to himself whilst the two of them made their way through the abandoned church courtyard. "We've seen it rain before."

She giggled. "Yes I know. But this is American." She spun around and screamed with excitement before she started to dance angelically through the pouring rain.

He watched her with a look of love and adoration on his face. "It's just rain," he told her with a smile.

She stopped, grinning as happily as a child on Christmas. As she went to open her mouth to speak, a soft musical melody wafted through the abandoned church yard.

The two of then glanced around searching for the source of the music before finally settling on an entryway that used to be a doorway, the wooden doors were rotted away leaving only the huge metal hinges that used to hold them in place.

"What on earth is that?" she questioned. "Is there someone here? The tour guide said this place was deserted."

"Has been for thousands of years," he told her. "Makes me wonder why the American's haven't knocked it down and built an apartment building yet."

She got up and grabbed his arm. "Let's go check it out!" she grinned before dragging him into the church.

"This guy at the hostel said to be back before midnight," he argued as she dragged him inside.

She frowned but ignored him.

He did however have to admit the melody was infectious. He followed her as she followed the music through the church. This place would have been beautiful once upon a time. He could imagine the men and women of the clothe rushing about to serve their god, their prayers, their wishes for peace on earth.

Now days the idea of religion was a fleeting thing, nothing what it used to be like but the idea still had it fanatics and true believers.

"What ya thinking about?" she asked him after she pushed him up against the wall to kiss him.

"Church life," he answered.

"How boring," she huffed. "Nobility…now there is something much more exciting…sitting around fucking each other all day?" she grinned. "And boy that gives me an idea." She kissed him again.

He pulled away. "I can't," he answered. "I'm Catholic."

She pushed herself away from him. "You know I'm not going to wait forever. I have needs you know."

"Let's just find the source of the music," he frowned.

"I wanna go back to the hostel," she scowled before she stormed off into the darkness.

He sighed before he went to follow her.

Then she screamed.

He took off running into the darkness, tripping when his foot caught on something. He cried out when he hit the ground, somewhere close to him he could hear a gurgling sound.

Suddenly the old torches on the walls burst into life.

His eyes widened in horror as he watched as something held up the leg of his girlfriend and was drinking the blood that was flowing from the limb. He looked backwards to see her lying on the ground bleeding from a savage wound in her throat and the left leg below the knee had been ripped off.

He screamed.

"Music to my ears," laughed a woman's voice from behind him.

He turned.

The thing that had attacked his girlfriend now had a form.

He gulped. "Are you-will you kill me?"

It laughed. "No, but I have plans for you. Virgins are so very hard to come by in this day and age."

He blinked, suddenly he found himself very afraid.

"Lights out leach!" came a voice from behind him. He barely managed to get out of the way as a wooden tipped arrow shot past him and buried itself in the chest of the young woman in front of him.

"Jesus!" he screamed, stumbling backwards.

Out of the shadows came a young woman…no…a teenager dressed head to toe in black leathers holding a bow in her hands. She crossed the hall and stood over his girlfriend's body drawing a glass sword from her side. Before he could object, she raised the sword and stabbed it through the still heart of his dying love.

"NO!" he screamed, rushing towards her.

She flung the bloodied sword out, stopping inches from his throat. "Leave this place, now." Watching as he stumbled back, a cocky smirk appeared on her face seconds before he ran off into the darkness. "Tragic," she muttered, staring at the bodies in the hall. "Yet entirely inconvenient. I'm going to be late."

Turning on her heels, Esme Ravenscar walked casually from the abandoned church like she'd never been there in the first place. There were other things to do besides killing demons that night for tonight, a party was happening, one of the greatest parties New York City…well more importantly Brooklyn, had ever seen.

Twirling her bow in her hands she made her way through the crowded city streets, the people around her completely oblivious to the warrior armed to the teeth walking amongst them.

At the age of eighteen, Esme Ravenscar, formally Nighthallow was a Shadowhunter in exile.

Born as the first girl in a hundred years to the Nighthallow line, her birth had been a celebrated affair. For months and months, the Nighthallow's celebrated, a girl, at last. Growing up she received the best of the best education in everything-art, weaponry, combat, tactics, strategy, myth and lore but when she turned sixteen, everything changed.

Suddenly finding herself hunted, Esme was forced from the only home she'd ever known and out into the mundane world where life was hard, harder than anything she'd ever faced before. By chance, Esme managed to find herself employment with a warlock, a rather infamous warlock by the name of Magnus Bane, self-proclaimed High Warlock of Brooklyn, whom she was reduced from Shadowhunter to messenger but it gave her a roof over her head and the warlock was quite funny in certain ways. Sometimes her job description varied from what she liked but it was a job and she had no reason to complain.

Technically Esme wasn't considered a Shadowhunter, but she hadn't been stupid enough to stay and let them strip her of the marks she already had, making her vulnerable. She still called herself a Shadowhunter and that was all that counted in her mind. Stuff the rest.

Standing at five feet, two inches tall with dark brown hair and frighteningly clear blue eyes, Esme was considered rather striking for a teenager. Her striking looks matched her sharp wit and even sharper personality, there was nothing she couldn't do if she put her mind to it.

With her last errand for the evening complete, Esme was heading home when she came across the mundane couple and the vampire which is why she was now late, later than she would have liked.

As she stood in a crowd of mundanes, waiting for them to cross the street, a cold shiver ran down her spine. Turning her head, she gasped. "Mother?" Esme whispered.

Standing through the crowd stood her mother but not what she knew her to be. Growing up, her mother had been a quiet woman but very, very stern. She would have never worn what she was wearing now…a blood red silk dress that left barely anything to the imagination.

"Esme…" Her voice echoed on the wind. It was everywhere and nowhere at the same time.

"Mother?" Esme whispered again. She'd always thought that her mother was back in Idris with the rest of her family, pretending that she never existed in the first place. Clearly this was not the case. The woman bore the marks of a Shadowhunter but there was also some kind of symbol marked into the flesh of her neck, one which the exile had never seen before.

"He's coming, Esme," she answered in an ethereal tone. "He's coming, Esme…it's time to pick a side…pick the right one." Esme blinked and suddenly her mother stood in front of her…this woman was wrong…simply wrong. "So pretty…" she whispered, "those eyes…they're the eyes of the devil…I want to rip them out." Extending her hands, those blood red fingernails turned into sharp, deadly claws.

Esme backed away and fell into the group behind her. Left there on her ass, Esme realized she was looking at nothing but thin air. "Oh mother….what have you done?"