Clarissas blade hit the dummy with a bang. Right through the eye. She smirked. Clarissa knew she was good. Hell, Clarissa knew she was bloody fantastic, and she made sure everyone around her knew it too.

Clarissa Adele Morgenstern was not one to be messed with. She was known all through the downworld as a brutal assassin without a shed of mercy. She was feared and respected, for Clarissa that was all she needed. She loved the terror she'd see on her victims faces before she ruined them. She lived for the silence she encountered when she entered a room.

She was beautiful.

She was ruthless.

She was a legend.

She was everything she has aspired to be.

The only person she knew who was more feared than herself was her father. Valentine Morgenstern. Known as a brutal monster throughout all of the downworld, he was also the brave leader of the most dangerous rebels in all of the shadow world. The Circle.

Through she was talented and brutal, and could give any of her father's followers a run for their money, Clarissa barely ever got to go on hunts with her father, most of the time she would be sent to go deal with the low lifes her father just didn't have time for. She didn't mind too much, she still got to be a part of the action and help her father but she was dying for the day her father would acknowledge her skill.

She knew any day now she would be the new leader of the circle, and it was a day she had been looking forward to for years. Most little girls fantasize about their future seraph blades, their first boyfriends and idris. Clarissa on the other hand, dreamed about ripping the life right from her victims eyes, commanding her army of murderers and making her father proud of the ruler she had become.

So she waited for that day. She trained for hours until she was the absolute definition of perfection. She completed every mission her father sent her on with no mistake and no failures. She mastered every tongue spoke in the shadow world, and was skilled in every aspect a shadow hunter could possible be skilled in.

Clarissa found herself in the training room again today, as she did everyday before, and the day before that.

Waiting.

Always Waiting.

Wiping the sweat from her brow she sank down against the wall, closed her eyes and breathed a great sigh of relief.

" ?"

Clarissa squeezed her eyes tight in annoyance, took a deep breath and looked to the small maid in the doorway with a carefully calculated grimace.

Maia, was standing there, as Clarissa has suspected. Maia was a young werewolf her father had kidnapped about a year ago to make her Clarissas new maid. When she had first arrived her spirit was tough to break. Clarissa almost admired Maia for that. Every time she disobeyed and was subjected to the brutal punishment her father bestowed upon her she would scream bloody murder for someone named Jordan, she was so sure this Jordan would come save her. For months all Clarissa heard of was Maia's precious Jordan, but like every other girl and boy they had taken to join them, they were never rescued, left for dead.

"Yes, Maia?" Clarissa was kinder to Maia then most, she admired her spirit, or what was left of it.

"Your father wants you" Maia's eyes were completely glazed over, forever in a day dream.

"Very well" Clarissa turned back to the training room and gathered her things, when she looked back Maia was still standing there emotionlessly staring into nothing.

"You may leave dog" Maia, obviously in a daydream ignored Clarissa and her command. Clarissa rolled her eyes and sighed, picked up her blade and flung it across the room towards the absent minded maid, purposely missing her head by centimetres.

"You may leave dog" Clarissa spit out the word like venom. Maia scowled at the insult and scurried away, murmuring cursing beneath her breath.

Clarissa grabbed her bag and waltzed through the dark, empty halls of her mansion to her father's study.

"Father?" she asked upon entering. He was reading a book, something old and dusty and furiously scribbling down notes. He looked at her briefly, and then back to scribbling. Clarissa waited for him to acknowledge her.

"I need you to deal with a problem for me" He spoke without making eye contact, that always annoyed Clarissa, but what could she do? He was the one person in the world she couldn't make respect her, she had to earn it. Apparently she hadn't done so yet.

"Of course father, who needs to die?" This might sound brutal, but it was her reality.

"I need you to make Robert Lightwood disappear"

"Of the New York Institute? I'll make it happen. Can I ask why?" She wasn't shocked, she honestly didn't care much about anyone, especially Robert Lightwood, who ever he was.

"No, you cannot. Leave tonight, please be back by morning."

More scribbles.

"Very well father" She made her way towards the exit, mentally preparing herself for the task.

"Oh and Clarissa?" He looked up from his notes.

"Yes father?"

"Dispose of the others too."

Now she was surprised.

"The others?"

"Yes, the wife, the children. Kill them. Kill them all."