Murmuring to herself, her red hair splayed across the pillow, the young Shadowhunter shifted in her sleep. Crouched on the broad windowsill, Leo caught his breath, but she didn't wake. He cast his ears farther afield; downstairs, the quiet breathing of the older Shadowhunter mingled with that of the old wolf. Leo's lips twitched back in an instinctive sneer at the thought of his old enemy. Looking again at the young woman in the bed, his eyes tracing her slender body under the thin sheet, Leo licked his lips, anticipating the sweetness of revenge.
Clary woke to the vibrating of her phone on the bedside table. Pouting, still half asleep, she pawed at it, and brought it awkwardly to her ear.
"Yes?"
Jace's bright voice was tinged with amusement. "Rise and shine, sleeping beauty. You and I have a mission today."
Clary frowned into her pillow. "What?"
Jace rolled his eyes. She could hear it over the phone. "Remember, Miss Newly Initiated Shadowhunter? A mission? With me? Your two favourite things in the world, danger and myself, all bundled together in one convenient package. I'll be at Luke's in five minutes. If you're not dressed, I'm coming in anyway." He laughed, and hung up, ignoring her mumbled outrage.
Yawning, but more awake now, Clary rolled out of bed, shivering. Blinking at the bright morning light, she crossed to close the window, rubbing her arms. Her Shadowhunter leathers were laid on the end of her bed, and various weapons were scattered across her bedroom floor.
There was a knock at the door, and Jocelyn came in. "Good morning," she said, eyeing the state of the room with a raised eyebrow. "You know, it's not every mother who has to remind her daughter to tidy up the deadly weapons scattered all over her room."
Clary smiled sheepishly. "I was trying to pick something for today, but I couldn't think what to take."
Her mother smiled back, indulgent. "Right! Your first official mission. I imagine Jace is raring to go."
Clary rolled her eyes. "As always."
Her mother bent to examine the arsenal. "The tried and true is two Seraph blades and a handful of knives. These more… esoteric items need a bit more expertise than you've got at the moment."
Clary sighed. "I know! But I wanted something special… something impressive."
Jocelyn smoothed her daughter's hair. "I wouldn't worry about that. Just stick to the basics. You're with Jace, odds are you won't even get the chance to use them, you know how quick off the mark that boy is when it comes to killing demons."
Clary grinned, despite herself. "Okay."
Jocelyn kissed her forehead. "Get dressed. Luke's making pancakes, come eat something before you go."
Hurrying into her gear, she made it down to the table, and started gobbling pancakes at a ferocious rate. Luke raised an eyebrow. "Usually I'm the only one wolfing things down around here." He smiled slightly at his own pun. Jocelyn pinched his butt behind the counter, out of Clary's line of sight. He jumped, ever so slightly, and she smiled.
Clary was just eating her last bite when they heard Jace pulling up outside. Clary bolted up the stairs. "Just gonna brush my teeth," she called back, "send him upstairs!"
Luke brought her plate to the sink, and shook his grizzled head slightly. "Those two…" he murmured.
Jocelyn tousled his hair affectionately. "What? If you ask me, they remind me of us back in the day."
Luke grinned at her, slightly. "You remember what we got up to, back in the day? You better hope they're not following too closely in our footsteps."
Jace walked in just then, his black leather tight over his arms and chest. His stele was strapped to his forearm, and a row of long-bladed knives hung at his waist. "Morning!" He drawled.
Luke grinned. "She's upstairs, getting ready."
Jace hesitated a moment, unsure of himself suddenly. He glanced towards Jocelyn. "Should I…"
The older Shadowhunter raised an eyebrow. "She said to send you up after her."
Jace flushed. "Okay. Um… thanks."
Luke kept a straight face until the younger man had disappeared upstairs. Then, he and Jocelyn both burst out laughing.
Clary came out of the bathroom, straightening an errant lock of red hair, to find Jace standing squarely in front of her, his eyes teasing, his smiled crooked and confidant as ever. Despite herself, she caught her breath at the sight of him. She raised a hand and laid it against the curve of his chest. The leather was hard and smooth under her hand, and she felt the warmth of his body, even through the Shadowhunter armour.
"Hi," she breathed.
Jace chuckled, a low, rich sound in the back of his throat. "Hey," he answered, just as quietly. His fingers ran through her hair, and down her back, and he angled her face towards his, leaning down to brush his lips, tantalizingly, against hers.
For a moment, they stood there, his hands cradling her jaw and back, his lips pressed against hers, their tongues teasing each other across the divide between their mouths. Then, her heart racing, Clary took a half step back, her eyes flicking up to find his.
A spark of desire had banished his usual nonchalance. His eyes were hungry as his gaze met hers. As she watched, he managed, with an effort, to bring himself back under control. His smile returned, flickering across his face with his customary ease.
"Good to see you," he quipped, breaking the tension a little.
She laughed, still breathless, and made herself turn away from the lingering flame behind his eyes. She picked up her stele from the bed, took a few steadying breaths, then turned back.
His shirt was off, the planes of his chest gleaming in the morning light from the windows. Her heart skipped a beat. For a moment, her only thought was how much she wanted to run a soft hand across his muscled chest, feel the strength and warmth, pull him closer…
She caught her breath, and glanced at his face. His eyes were measuring, amused. "We're hunting down a rogue were-wolf," he said. "I thought, since your runes are stronger, you might mark me?"
She glanced down at the stele in her hand, and nodded. "Alright. I guess that makes sense." Her voice was light; she felt almost dizzy. He took a step closer, offering the skin on his arms and chest. The dark swirls of his permanent runes stood out sharply against his bronze skin.
He didn't wince when she set the tip of her stele to his skin. Though she knew it was painful, as she drew runes for strength, endurance, speed, and skill on his chest and arms, his eyes stayed locked with hers. She breathed in the scent of his skin as she bent her head over her work. She couldn't meet his eyes.
When she finished, she glanced at him. He was still watching her with the same, intense expression. "Do me?" She asked quietly, thrilling at the thought.
He chuckled. "Anytime."
She smiled, and rolled up her sleeve to her shoulder. His eyebrows furrowed, concerned, as she winced. "Sorry, I know I should be used to that by now," she said through clenched teeth.
When he finished, he kissed the sensitive skin he'd marked, his lips soft and warm. Their touch sent shivers across her body, spreading from the point, warming her. "Sorry," he whispered.
She looked back at him, over her shoulder. He winked, and she smiled. "Okay," she said, cheerfully, dispelling the tension which had been slowly growing in the bedroom. "Rogue were-wolves. Sounds like fun! Let's go!"
Jocelyn and Luke watched them leave. Luke's face had a slight frown on it. His wife turned to him, frowning herself. "What's the matter?"
He glanced at her, his eyes shadowed. "They're hunting down a rogue wolf," he said softly.
She hesitated. "How do you know?"
Luke turned away, hunching his shoulders slightly. "I heard them talking upstairs." Jocelyn sighed. Of course he would have, with his enhanced hearing. It still took some getting used to, even after all these years, remembering the young, slight boy he'd been, trying to reconcile that with the grizzled, dangerous wolf he was now.
"One of yours?" she asked. They rarely spoke about Luke's pack. He was fiercely protective, and loyal, to the wolves under his care, and despite their mutual love and trust, he still seemed leery to share too much with a Shadowhunter. He also, even after all this time, seemed slightly ashamed of his were-wolf alter-ego when talking with her.
"No," he replied, a little harshly, "we deal with our own." She was quiet for a moment, and he turned to look at her, his expression softening somewhat. "I'm sorry," he said softly. "I… know you care too."
She smiled at him, and put a gentle hand against his chest. "We don't have to talk about it."
Luke shrugged. "It's alright. I heard from some of the pack, there have been a few attacks in the city. Mundanes dead, mauled. They figure it has to be a wolf, too messy for a vampire, too vicious for a mundane."
Jocelyn hissed. "Oh no."
Luke sighed. "I would like to be allowed to do it myself, take some wolves, and figure this out on our own. But the Clave still doesn't trust us to govern our own people."
Jocelyn laid her hand gently across his cheek. "We'll bring them around."
Luke glanced up at her, looking almost startled for a moment. In some ways, despite being married to her, he still saw her as other. The wolf blood in his veins ran deep. Then, he smiled. "Thank you."
She kissed him, softly. "You're welcome."