The worst night of my life began with demon hunting.

I stalked silently behind Jason, my sword drawn. I heard him name his seraph blade as the lights in the abandoned warehouse dimmed as if there was something sucking away all of the power from the building.

Jason turned around, pulling his hood down. His bright blue eyes were like a lighthouse in the shady warehouse, and full of excitement.

Jason had been my best friend for as long as I could remember. We grew up together in the New York Institute. My parents had welcomed him into the Institute when his parents moved to Idris permanently and Jason hadn't wanted to leave New York.

His parents left when Jason was twelve, and he had argued that he was old enough to make his own decisions concerning his training. Jason's parents were not pleased, but my mother and father spoke with them and then Jason's parents begrudgingly agreed for my family to train him here in the United States.

I never really questioned why Jason wanted to stay instead of going to the beautiful Idris, but I never pried. He never pried with me, so why would I bother him?

Either way, Jason loved training with my parents. They were Shadowhunting legends, people with extraordinary amount of angelic blood. That passed on to me, Kathryn Herondale, and now I am one of the best Shadowhunters of my age. I'm not trying to be self-centered, but it's true. I have an amazing talent for runes, and while I couldn't create new ones like my mother, I could understand and draw incredibly powerful ones. That's not even mentioning my physical prowess, my lean, muscular build and my great ability handling weapons.

Jason named two more blades and stuck them into his belt, running a hand into his thick brown hair. His face was flushed with anticipation for the fight and his breathing was quick.

I was completely relaxed. Marks twined my arms and seraph blades and my sword were stuck into my belt. I lived for the fight, lived for the adrenaline rush that came with the slash of a seraph blade or the lunge of a sword.

I was just finishing a strength rune on the back of my hand when I heard a rustling noise. I whipped around, exchanging my stele for a seraph blade in the blink of an eye. "Raphael," I whispered, holding the blade out for light. I kept staring for a few minutes until Jason called my name softly and I reluctantly turned around.

Jason motioned with his hand quickly for me to peer through a couple of boxes, giving me a view of the demon.

It looked like an orb covered in mucus, or at least that was my first impression. Then I saw the serrated teeth and thick legs sticking from the bottom of the orb. Upon closer examination, I realized that it was covered in tiny teeth.

I grimaced. I'd never seen a demon like this before, but it wasn't something I couldn't handle.

"That mucus may be like that of the Behemoth demon," I whispered to Jason. I wasn't sure if the thing could hear or not, but I wasn't willing to take a chance. "So let's not use seraph blades."

He nodded, and exchanged his seraph blade for a sword at his belt. Then, as I unsheathed my sword, he worked on slowly inching the boxes farther and farther apart until we could squeeze through.

I held my sword at my side as I followed Jason through the boxes. It was my constant companion, a matte black blade and plain leather hilt that meant the world to me. I had owned the sword since I started Shadowhunting training years ago at the age of ten, and it was like my parabatai. The blade was designed with a pattern of small silver birds flying, a nod to my family name, Herondale. It was a gift to me by my father, which made it even more special.

I squeezed between the boxes after Jason, and turned to face the demon. It was now turning slowly in place, and Jason was slowly circling the demon so where he was constantly behind it.

The second I saw a beady black eye fix its glare on me, I lunged forward with the sword. It split open at the middle and I saw a gaping bloody mouth full of serrated teeth.

I drove my blade downward and Jason came behind the demon, slicing it in half right as I yanked out my sword. It burst into ashes and I stepped back, grinning.

"Easy peasy," I laughed, sheathing my blade. Jason was wiping ashes and ichor off of his knife on the sleeve of his gear and he nodded, smiling.

A few minutes later, we were packed and ready to leave the warehouse. I slid the now-dulled seraph blades into my gear. I walked ahead of Jason as he flicked his hood up again.

"I'm kind of disappointed," Jason confessed, his tone light. "I expected more. I at least wanted some blood and gore, you know?"

Of course, he was kidding. Only just last year he suffered a devastating injury from a Scorpios demon, and had only resumed his duties in the last couple of months.

"Yeah, sure. I'd love to spend more time at your bedside in the Institute," I joked, drawing a seraph blade to wipe a smudge from the glossy surface.

Jason was about to say something when a furry mass leapt out in front of me, and a jolting pain rocked my left shoulder.

I named the blade with a gasp and tried to sink it into the creature, but missed because now the pain was spreading. I collapsed, only aware of a tinny ringing in my ear.

Jason was screaming something, and a shining arc flew into my line of vision. I heard a whimper but the thing kept attacking, clawing at my abdomen and throat, biting at anything it could. A scream ripped from my throat, and unearthly wail that tore at my vocal cords.

I felt a ripping near my ankle, and hot liquid spread up my leg. Jason had begun slashing at the thing on top of me, and I felt hot drops of blood – it's or mine, I wasn't sure – drip onto my stomach. I felt only one sensation: Pain. White-hot pain lanced up my body when I tried to turn my head, so I held still.

I heard a yowl and felt the immense pressure of the being lifted off of me as Jason stabbed it once more and knelt down beside me, three long diagonal scratches passing over his nose and onto his cheeks.

"By the Angel… Kathryn. Kathryn, talk to me. Now." His voice was pleading and high-pitched, as if he was fighting back tears.

I couldn't talk to him, though. I could only look into his blue eyes as small as puddle and wide as oceans, and then I did something I never did. I cried.

Tears flowed freely down my cheeks as I made soft whimpering sounds as I cried, my entire body shaking with pain and fear. I was supposed to be the best. I didn't cry.

"Oh, no, Kathryn, please hang on," Jason pleaded, tears now dripping from his face. He had gotten out his cell phone, a slim black device, and was dialing the Institute even as he talked to me.

"Kathryn, don't close your eyes." My eyes drifted together, but snapped open as the urging continued. I wondered why the world was spinning. I wondered why it felt like I was lying in a puddle of water. I wondered why I couldn't feel my legs.

And I shut my eyes.