Chapter One

There were rumors about that church. There was talk on the street about a demon-worshipping sect that lived there like a tribe. Some people said Freemasons convened there sometimes. But no, none of those rumors were true. She was the only one that could see. The only one that saw many things. The only one that dared entered… ever. The rain lashing down on her, pasting her long brown hair to her skin seemed like an omen. And the white-hot lightning and bone-shaking thunder almost made her turn back. But she didn't. This was the only safe place where she could live. No one even came in that place. People crossed to the other side of the street so as to not pass it. It was abandoned, wet, cold… just like her.

She opened the steel, black gate and a straining wail disrupted the suddenly quiet night; it had stopped raining abruptly. She walked up the steps and saw the image of the abandoned and shabby church and saw it was now a majestic structure. Clean, sharp… but still cold. No wonder people didn't even want to look at the forlorn church; the edifice gave off an imperious, almost ominous feeling. The church door was very large, a huge troll could've passed through with no problem.

There she went again. Why did I always have to think about mythical creatures and supernatural people and angels and demons, she thought. The nuns waved it off as an over-active imagination back when she was little but as she got older they reproached her when she talked about it, saying she should stop daydreaming and keep her feet on the ground, to grow up.

She sighed and went to open the large door. It was locked. She sighed and placed both hands on the wet, slippery wood and pushed. Nothing. She groaned and pushed with all her strength yet it didn't budge. Let me in. Just let me in. I just want refuge. Let me in. Suddenly, with a loud creak the wooden church door opened wide into a large parlor room. It was simple, not much, but it surprised her. The furniture didn't look old, sure, maybe a little worn out but they were clean and kept up-to-date. Maybe Freemasons did meet up in here. She saw a black, impermeable jacket lying on the floor near a coat-hanger and pair of bright pink stilettos on the hall. Where was I? she thought. She walked silently towards the hall where the pink heels lay haphazardly, almost as if they didn't belong. She saw an antique elevator with black railing covered in rust on some parts. She opened the railing and a loud creaking made her flinch. If anyone was here they must've heard her. She walked inside the elevator where it was cool. With yet another groaning creaking the elevator jerked upwards. She waited and the railing opened and a huge ball of fur lunged towards my face. She caught it when it was millimeters from her and gasped when she saw it was a blue Persian cat.

"Hello, boy?" she said checking his sex. "Yes, boy."

Te cat purred and snuggled towards her neck where it's soft fur tickled her.

"Well, that's a first," said a voice from outside the elevator.

She lowered the fluffy cat and met with a pair of beautiful, golden eyes, messy, curly blonde hair and the face of an angel.

"Wh-what are you doing here?" she asked a little nervously but with a firm I-take-no-shit-from-no-one voice.

The golden boy lifted an eyebrow and smirked. "I could ask you the same question."

"Tell me your name and I'll tell you mine," she said boldly, stepping out of the elevator and putting the Persian down on the floor.

He smiled the most enchanting and charming smile. She didn't meet or talked with many boys, only the ones at the orphanage and they were mostly little children and the oldest one was two years younger and he suffered schizophrenia. Thinking of the orphanage made her heart clench and her eyes water.

Golden boy's face softened and took a step closer. "Easy, you don't have to cry, I'll tell you. My name is Jace—" he hesitated for a second and his eyes grew dark. "Jace Lightwood," he said vehemently, as if daring someone to deny it.

She stared at him studiously. "Hello, Jace Lightwood," she said extending a small, pale, wet, shivering hand and he shook it with his own large, warm and soft one. "I'm Dru Dukas."

"And you're a Shadowhunter," he said with an incriminating smile.

She gaped at him not processing his words. "Excuse me?"

"Oh, come one," he said crossing his arms. "Don't play dumb."

"I-I'm sorry but I don't know what you're talk—"

"Where are your Marks anyways?"

"What?" she asked genuinely baffled.

Jace realized, by the honestly confused look on her face, that this girl truly didn't know what she was. "You're one of us," he said extending his hand motioning the church. "You're part of a demon-killing race."

She took two steps back. "What are you talking about? You're crazy," she said, already looking for an escape route.

"You don't have to be afraid," he said mesmerizingly. She wanted to believe everything he said… but she couldn't.

"Yes I do! Get away from me!" she yelled as he grabbed her arm. His grip was iron-strong and she struggled to free herself from him.

"I'm not going to hurt you, Dru!" he yelled. "Please, I can explain all the things you see!"

How did he know that I could see… things? she thought. "SHUT UP!" She kicked him on his left rib and he staggered back and tripped.

She ran towards the church door but an arm circled her waist and another one muffled her mouth.

"Getfawymfromme!" she yelled but obviously Jace didn't, or wouldn't, understand.

"I'm sorry, Dru," he whispered in her ear. "I didn't want to do this."

He dragged her through the hall and pushed her in a room as he closed the door behind him.

"What are you doing?" she yelled storming towards him but he held her away. "This is kidnap!"

He rolled his eyes. "Would you stop throwing yourself at me. It's not as attractive as it may seem."

Dru was fuming. "Who do you think you are?" she said through clenched teeth.

He gave her a blinding smile. "I think I'm Jace Lightwood but next thing you know I might really be Jace— oh, I don't know— Bane?"

"What are you talking about?" she yelled exasperated, crossing her arms.

"Can you sit? And I'll explain everything. It's a lot to take in, Dru."

She stared at him. He looked sincere enough. Of course, his angelic looks did help to his advantage. "Fine—"

"JACE!" yelled a girl's voice from down the hall.

Jace turned pale and grabbed her arm and pushed her inside his bathroom putting a finger on his lips to shush her. Dru was about to protest but he had already slammed the door on her face.

She sighed and sat on the toilet seat. She heard Jace talk with a very loud girl. She seemed to be angry about a pair of shoes she couldn't find. She thought about the pink heels downstairs and she was pretty sure those were the lost shoes the girl was talking about.

A loud slam sounded through the room and Jace opened the door looking shaken, mostly in an annoyed and confused way.

"You're all wet," he said abruptly as Dru stood up from the cold toilet seat.

"Yes, I was in the rain just now," she said giving him a weird look.

"Dang, I'm sorry," he said walking to his drawers. "You must be freezing."

"Ain't that the truth," she murmured and he looked up.

"Why were you in the rain?"

"Um… it's just that—oh, dear—," she stammered and felt like a lowly fool in his godlike presence. "I'm a—"

Right then Jace noticed her sickly skin, purple shadows under her eyes from lack of sleep and gaunt figure; she looked unhealthily skinny. Her long dark brown hair was matted and in knots. She looked like a mess. "Where have you been?" he whispered.

Dru looked down at her feet and played with the broken zipper of her damp jacket. "I'm… I've been in the streets this past week," she said meekly.

Jace's eyes widened. "Alone? Unprotected? But you're a Shadowhunter!"

She looked at him with a mixture of skepticism, fear and tiredness. "Actually, I escaped from my… orphanage and have I been trying to survive…"

"Weren't you attacked? Not even once?" Jace asked astounded at her being alive.

Dru shook her head slowly, her teeth chattering.

He sighed and ran a hand trough his head. "Oh dear Raziel," he whispered and walked around the room only to find himself exactly where he had been, crouched by his drawers.

He turned towards me and threw me some clothes. "You can change and give me your wet clothes, I'll take care of 'em." He looked me up and down. "You're pretty tall so—"

"W-wait!" she said interrupting his whirlwind. "What- I can't… Why—?"

He grinned and his whole face lit up. "Are you afraid I might try something?" he said coolly. "Take a shower, relax. There's shampoo on the cabinet under the skin. I'll bring you some food. Don't worry, you'll be safe here."

She had a feeling she was blushing. But no, she never blushed. Well, she did but people never saw it. You couldn't see the blood rushing to her cheeks. Thank God, she thought. He must've noticed her hesitating 'cause he rolled his eyes with a cocky smirk on his lips and he shut the bathroom door. She waited until she heard the main door close. She sighed and stripped off her clingy, cold, wet clothes and piled them in a mushy mount. She stepped inside the cream-tiled shower and started it. Freezing cold water hit her and she flinched. She quickly stepped out of the shower and someone knocked on the door.

"I need your clothes if you want me to wash them," said Jace in a sing-song voice.

"Wait a minute!" she yelled back, annoyed.

She picked up the little wet pile and opened the door to a slit. She slipped her arm through it and Jace took the clothes. He pushed the door close but she stooped it.

"Wait!"

"What?" he groaned.

"I-I need… um… underwear," she whispered shakily.

"What do you want me to do?" he said and she could hear a smirk on his mouth.

"You wouldn't have a bra perhaps… or panties—"

"Don't say that word!" he yelled.

"Sorry! Well, do you have pan—?"

"What did I just say, woman?" he yelled opening the door a little wider. He leaned his head closer and whispered. "Look, no one can know you're here yet, okay? There are four very annoying people in this Institute—"

"Institute?" she asked.

He made an impatient sound. "I'll explain later but no one must know about you… yet. So, you're gonna spend, like, two days, three days tops, without proper underwear."

"But I can't go around without a bra! Let alone pan—"

"Ah-ah!" Jace interjected. "Do not say the word."

"Gosh, you're so immature," she muttered.

He stepped away from the door and she went to feel the water. It was searing hot. Just the way se liked it. She heard Jace's steps and she pressed the side of her body on the bathroom door while opening it a tiny slit.

"Here," he said handing her a pair of…

"Boxers? Are you crazy?"

"Shhh! They might hear you!" he said knocking on the door.

"Someone's grumpy," she said earning her a middle finger from Jace. She thumped his forearm which was disturbingly close to her naked body. "I am not wearing your underwear!" she spat at him.

"They're brand-new! I just got them from the pack," he said shoving them on her face.

"Stop! Stop it," she said snatching the blue, plaid boxers from his hand. She felt the stiff fabric meaning they were new. She sniffed them for good measure and they smelled like plastic. Good, she thought.

"Okay, fine, thanks," she said closing the door softly.

He chuckled and she heard the door to his room open and close quietly. She was smiling as she slipped into the steamy shower.

***

The bathroom door opened slowly, letting out a cloud of steam and Dru walked out wearing a slightly over-sized long-sleeved shirt with the sleeves past her fingers and a pair of green basket ball shorts that grazed the bottom of her knees. Actually, those pants grazed the bottom of Jace's knees. She was tall. She crossed her arms over her chest as she averted her gaze.

Jace smiled and placed the copy of The Plague by Albert Camus that he was reading. "I'm not going to rape you," he said pointing at a big bowl of hot, chicken noodle soup on his dresser. Dru's pupils dilated at the sight of her first decent meal in a week and Jace watched as she ravenously drank it.

She sighed and glared at him while slurping on a noodle. "I know that. I just don't like being alone with a boy in his room wearing his clothes and underwear. Without a bra!"

Jace grinned amused and patted his bed as he stood up and walked to an armchair on the far corner of the room.

She looked at him curiously as he plopped down on the cold chair. "You're giving up your bed?" she said impressed.

"To help a damsel in distress? Always," he said with a wink.

She uncrossed her arms and he stared at her. She saw him looking and crossed them back furiously. "You're such a perv!" she said sitting down on his bed. Her long, tan legs splayed on the starched, white sheets.

He smirked. "No, I'm just a seventeen-year old boy."

She rolled her eyes and looked at the copy of The Plague. She opened it on her lap and began reading where he left off while taking the last spoonfuls of the soup. The girl had been hungry.

"You might want to start on page one," Jace said patronizingly.

She didn't look up. "I already read it," she said softly.

"You don't strike me as a reader," he said honestly.

This time she looked up. "Neither do you," she said giving him a friendly smile and slipping her hair behind her ear.

"Touché."

A knock, or more like a pounding, on the door startled Jace and he looked up at Dru. She nodded and ran to the bathroom.

He walked to the door and opened it. A blur of red shot past him and he turned around to see Clary rummaging through his things.

"Can I help you?" he asked a little offended at this invasion of privacy.

She looked up and stared at him with those sweet, green eyes of hers. "I can't find my sketch pad!"

Jace leaned on the wall as he amused himself with watching Clary fly through his room like a little, redheaded bumblebee searching for honey.

"And why on earth would your sketch pad be here?" he asked.

"I don't know but I can't find it anywhere!" she said storming towards the bathroom.

In a second he had blocked her path making her jump. "Jesus, Jace! What is your problem?"

"Yeah, your sketchpad's not here," he said pushing her away from the bathroom door.

"Uh… can't I look?" she asked as he walked her out of the room.

"Yeah, not really."

"Jace, you let me—"

Jace din't hear the rest of the sentence because he slammed the door in her face before she could say anything else he might regret hearing. He sighed and locked the door just in case.

"You can come out now," he said and Dru walked out of the bathroom giving him a suspicious look.

"Was that the same girl that was looking for her shoes?" she asked returning to the place on Jace's bed as she fingered The Plague looking for the page she was on.

"No, that's Clary," he said softly. "The one looking for her shoes is Isabelle," He said, emphasizing Isabelle's name in a way it clearly let you know she was something.

"Oh," she said noticing his hesitating on Clary. "So is Isabelle your…?" she left the question hang.

"She's my sister," he said.

"Oh," she repeated but didn't ask anything else.

Jace sat on the armchair and tried to get comfortable. "Are you planning on sleeping there?" she asked surprised.

"Uh, yes," he said turning on his side.

"Oh, no," she said getting up. "Thank you but… I thought you were joking. Oh, please, no—"

He held up a hand. "Don't even think about it. You're sleeping on the bed and that's that."

She sighed but slipped under the sheets. "Are you sure—?"

"Yes," he muttered in an annoyed voice.

"Sorry," she whispered.

He hugged his knees to his chest and laid his head on the hand rest where it lay in an uncomfortable position. He sighed and sucked it up and was finally getting sleepy when…

"Hey, Jace," she called in the darkness of the room.

"What?" he groaned groggily.

"Aren't you going to explain everything to me? After all, you're just a boy living on a church with four other people I haven't met and you're holding me hostage in your room," she said neither approvingly or disapprovingly, more like she was stating a fact.

He looked up and a sharp pain shot on the said of his neck. "I'll tell you in the morning, Dru."

She sighed and he heard the bed creak. "Fine, but please don't rape me."

He chuckled. "It wouldn't be rape if you agreed to it."

She gasped offended and sat up. "And how would you know I'd agree to it."

"Just a feeling," he said with a smile and he actually heard her laugh. For the first time. It was a ringing laugh. Joyous and true.

"Good night, Jace," she whispered softly. Her voice as smooth as a drop of morning dew on a leaf.

"Good night, Dru. Sweet dreams."