The demon lurked over her, hissing. It spit at Clary, a drop of acid burning her arm. From behind, Jonathan pulled out his last seraph blade, whispering a name to it. He crept up to the demon, then sliced the blade through its middle, cutting it in half. It left out a short screech before it fell, dead. Jonathan held out his hand to Clary. She grabbed it gratefully and he pulled her up. She smiled at him, "Thanks. I think that was the last of the pack." He nodded at her, "Yeah, they usually only run in packs of 4 or 5, and we killed 6 of those bastards."
"Jonathan! Language!" She teased. He laughed, "What? Just because I don't let you say it doesn't mean I can't." They both laughed as they began walking out of the alleyway. Clary tripped over a trashcan lid, stumbling into a wall. She winced when her burnt arm hit the wall. Jonathan looked at her, concern written on his face. "Here, let me see it." He went over and gently pulled her reluctant arm out so he could get a good look at the wound. "I'm fine Jonathan, honestly. I'll put something on it when we get back to the Institute." He frowned at her, "Or we could give you an iratze now." He pulled out his stele. Clary rolled her eyes but allowed him to give her an iratze.
"When will you stop being so overprotective?" Clary whined as he put the stele away and they began making their way back again.
"When you stop being so reckless." He replied. Clary glared, "It's not my fault those Moloch demons were so hard to kill."
"Well they had a bit of an advantage because of the way you decided to jump on the one farthest away." He said, raising an eyebrow as if daring her to refute him..
"They would've noticed us eventually anyway," She retorted.
"Not quite so soon, no." He replied, stifling a laugh. She shoved him playfully and stalked ahead, ignoring him the rest of the way home.