I do not own The Mortal Instruments.
Black smoke billowed from the windows of the Hotel du Mort as bright flames licked out from the decaying facade. Water seemed to be totally ineffective in battling the blaze. About two hours after the fire department arrived, fire crews tried chemical remedies but to no avail.
Frantic people streamed into the streets and could do nothing but watch the blaze. "Well," they comforted each other, "At least that old place is abandoned so no one will get hurt." This both was and wasn't true. While technically there were no people inside, the Hotel du Mort was one of the largest vampire nests in New York City. Hundreds of living beings called it home.
When a shrieking noise became audible from inside the building, the people on the street told themselves the sound must have been collapsing scaffolding or maybe a side effect of whatever combustion process was causing the du Mort to burn white hot yet leave the neighboring buildings miraculously unaffected.
Given that the fire could trace its origin to a source whose alliance had nothing to do with angels and the divine, "miraculous" was the wrong word to describe the force that left the rest of the street unscathed. And those noises were definitely screams of agony, Lily thought with no small amount of satisfaction.
These modern day vampires with their reliance on animal blood, obsession with not murdering people, and touchy-feely treaties with the Nephilim. They needed to be reminded of the good old days when vampires were vampires, not sniveling apologists. The other day Alex had told her about a series of books where the vampires sparkled and obsessively hung around high schools actively trying *not* to eat people.
Lily shook her head in disgust just remembering the conversation. The whole thing was just infuriating. To a real vampire, the world was full of free range snacks that were permitted to go about their lives in a more or less natural fashion because factory farming produced inferior food products.
Through a crack in the blinds of an apartment across the street, Lily watched as her old home burned. Presented with the choice between instantly burning to death in the daylight or slowly burning to death in the hotel, her former clan mates had chosen to stay inside and hold out hope that the fire could be brought under control while some shelter from the daylight still remained. Relying on mundane fire crews. Typical modern ridiculousness. Would Vlad the Impaler have done that? Hell no. He was a real vampire with a proper nickname. He would have found a way to impale people until it got him out of the situation.
Besides Lily knew the du Mort vampires' hope was in vain. All underground exits had been blocked and the hotel would burn to the ground well before sunset. She'd paid a warlock handsomely to make sure of it.
The pocket of her expertly distressed jeans beeped. She withdrew a sleek iPhone and tapped the screen.
Reminders:
- send human subjugate to pick up dry cleaning
- release demon fire on Hotel du Mort
- decide on final monogram font for towels
Looking over her shoulder at a coffee skinned vampire with dreadlocks, Lily smiled. "Well, Alex. The ball is rolling. Raphael. Camille. Everyone. Gone. Just like that."
Alex raised an eyebrow, "I don't know if I'd say, 'Just like that.' That's exactly the kind of thing you say right before you discover that half the nest picked today to have a sleepover in an abandoned warehouse by the river or something. Plus there's the Daylighter. We know he's not in there."
Lily cocked her head to the side and gave a brief nod, "True." She turned her attention to a man tied to a chair in the corner of the now spotless apartment. His crew cut was impeccable as it damn well better have been. She'd turned a hair stylist specifically so her food didn't have that bedraggled look. She tilted her appetizer's head to the side, let down her fangs, and bit its neck, taking a long drink as muffled whimpers escaped from the artfully arranged washi tape covering his mouth.
She wasn't worried. If nothing else, Lily was disciplined. She valued tradition and she had her pride. Why shame-facedly gnaw on trashy take away when you could create a well thought out dinner party experience complete with glamorous personalized details?
Lily blotted her mouth with a handkerchief, more out of decorum than actual necessity, and straightened the collar of the man's crisp white shirt. "Don't you think he looks just adorable in this new sweater vest? J. Crew has a fantastic collection this year."
"Dress the food however you want, Lil. I don't really care about plating. As long as we feed and water it conscientiously."
Lily furrowed her delicate brows at him. Alex understood that being a vampire was all about bite, drain, kill, repeat but she didn't really think he grasped the importance of maintaining your dignity. "Taking pride in the aesthetics of your life is very important. A clean, stylish home is the jumping off point for an elegant, accomplished life."
"Uh-huh," Alex grunted noncommittally.
Lily rolled her dark eyes, inserted a needle into the food's carotid artery, and withdrew a syringe full of blood. She carefully squirted the deep red liquid into two wine glasses resting on the vintage credenza to her side and handed a glass to Alex. "To traditional vampiric values and our rightful place at the top of the food chain!" she said as she raised her own glass.
They both looked out the window as the Hotel du Mort's roof collapsed, engulfing the remainder of the building in the flames.
"Oooh! And!" Lily raised her goblet again, "To our 'guardians of law and order' who are so consumed with their own rune covered navel gazing that they never notice what's really going on in the Downworld. To the Shadowhunters and their truly jaw dropping level of self involvement and lack of planning! Without them none of this would be possible!"
Alex laughed and took another drink, "Oh, they'll notice eventually," he said. "But by then it'll be too late."
As she circled around the training mat Clary stared into Jace's golden eyes and sternly reminded herself to focus. She wondered if demons ever got distracted by his leanly muscled torso and maybe that was part of why he had such an impressive kill record.
"Hey!" Jace whistled. "Up here! What is it with you ladies and treating me like a piece of meat?" A mock thoughtful expression crossed his face. "Oh. That's right. It's my incredible handsomeness. Try not to let it overwhelm you. Now." He tapped a finger to his temple. "Watch your opponent's EYES. Watch your opponent's breath. Get to know the rhythm of their movements."
"What if my opponent doesn't have eyes? Don't some demons have, you know…" Clary mentally cast around for the right words. Sensors? Antennae? Some kind of magical third eye? Moments like this drove home exactly how little she knew about demons. Unnerved, she looked down at the curling silver scars on Jace's hands.
The next thing she knew she was up against the wall of the training room, her body pinned to the rich mahogany panel with Jace's hips, her wrists restrained above her head with his right hand. Clary let out a gasp and tried to squirm away. Jace's breath hitched. He slid both of his hands down to her hips and shifted her body up so her eyes could meet his with only a slight upward tilt of her chin.
He lifted a hand up to stroke her cheek and smiled. "Even a second's inattention can have disastrous results."
His mouth was very close to hers and she could feel the heat of his breath. "I don't know… This doesn't really seem like too much of a disaster…" She licked her lips as she moved her arm around his neck.
Chuckling he brought his mouth down on hers for a leisurely kiss that before too long increased in intensity. He slipped his tongue into her mouth and groaned as she wrapped her legs around his waist.
"What do you mean this isn't a disaster?" Jace smiled against her throat. "Clearly this is the most." He kissed her jaw line. "Disastrous thing." He kissed the base of her collar bone. "Ever." His lips move back up her throat. She closed her eyes and let herself get lost in the sensation of his lips on her skin.
"Well, it's definitely disastrous for anyone who doesn't enjoy seeing you two groping each other in public all the time," came Alec's voice from the training room door.
Clary flushed as she and Jace broke apart. He shifted his body so it was behind hers and let his hands slide around her waist. She could feel his breath in her hair.
"This coming from the guy who made out with a warlock in front of the whole Council," smirked Jace.
Alec turned red but his lips quirked up in a shy smile which Clary felt sure Jace returned with a grin. Alec chuckled and shook his head. "I would try to dissuade you guys from being all over each other constantly but since I'm not one to waste my breath…" He shrugged and ambled out of the training room.
"You're a wise man," Jace called after him, "I knew we were parabatai for a reason…"
As soon as the door closed Jace's arms tightened around Clary. His hand swept her hair away from her neck and his lips found her earlobe. "Now…" he said, "Where were we?" Clary closed her eyes and leaned against him as Jace's fingers slipped under her t-shirt, gently running over the skin just above the waistband of her jeans, making her shiver.
The distinctive click of Maryse's heels sounded against the worn hardwood of the Institute's floors and Jace snarled softly under his breath. Clary straightened her shirt and stepped a few inches away from Jace willing herself not to blush.
Maryse raked her eyes over them, shaking her head almost imperceptibly. "You know. In some ways I preferred it when you two thought you were related."
Jace just grinned at his adoptive mother. Maryse's expression softened as she looked from Jace to Clary though dark circles bloomed under her eyes and her skin stretched tightly across her already gaunt face. A few days ago Clary had seen a tear stained Maryse bolt out of the library as soon as she'd noticed Clary's presence. Max's loss was still a fresh wound. Still, Maryse had never begrudged Jace the happiness he'd been able to find in his relationship with Clary. It made Clary think more fondly of the serious, often intimidating leader of the Institute.
"Jace," said Maryse, abruptly all business. "I need you, Alec, and Isabelle in the library." She swept out of the room.
Clary brought her forearms up so they rested on Jace's shoulders. Gently he pressed his forehead to hers and they smiled at each other. "You know, my Shadowhunter skills are always in demand. Such is the burden of the fantastically gifted."
"Yeah," she said. "How on earth do you cope?" He slanted his mouth down onto hers and they let themselves get lost in the kiss.
A/N: ::: waves hi ::: This is my first fic. I really admire a lot of the other writers on here and am looking to learn my way around. Please read, review, favorite, follow, sing, dance, tell jokes, or give any other kind of feedback. Thanks for your time!