Disclaimer: I do not own the characters from the Mortal Instruments. The lovely characters belong to Cassandra Clare, I just play with them. The plot line and imagined characters are my creation.
The story contains sensitive material, language, and lemons. This material is not suited for children 17 and under. (Well depending on how your parents feel about reading about murder and sexy times).
It was silent, too silent. She felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. "Simon." "Simon?" She radioed. Where is he? There is no way I'm losing this lead. I can do this. I have to do this.
She pushed open the door. "SIMON!" It was too late. A shot rang out and she hit the ground. Blood pooled around her face darkening her already red hair.
"Clary?" Simon pleaded. Please, please, let him be ok. Please. "Simon. Are you hit?" Clary said exasperated. He didn't answer.
"This is detective Clarissa Fairchild 2217. My partner, Detective Simon Lewis has been shot. Officer down, I repeat officer down. 275 Morgan Avenue. Send a bus immediately. I'm in pursuit of the attacker on foot."
"Detective, we advise, we strongly advise that you do not proceed without back up. We repeat, do not proceed."
Clary turned off her radio. She was not going to lose this lead. Simon would understand he had to. She exited the warehouse straining her eyes against the dimly lit street. She heard a shuffle behind her and felt a sharp pain in the back of her head. She fell to her knees dropping her gun. As she groped the dank the street, a voice spoke, "You nosy little bitch. You can't catch me. You saw what I did to your partner in there. Now, I'm not going to kill you, you don't deserve that kindness. I'm going to take it nice and slow. I don't just want you to feel everything, I want you to remember." The suspect moved to hoist Clary over his shoulder. She could feel the threatening darkness ebbing at her consciousness.
Lights flashed and sirens blared. She fell with a sickening thud as her head hit the concrete. "You got lucky this time, it won't happen again. Remember…I'll be watching." Everything faded to black.
Clary woke with a start. She was covered in a thin sheen of sweat with her hair plastered to her skin. It was always the same dream every night. Her hand fluttered to the locket around her neck. I miss you Mom. I miss you so much it hurts.
She looked at the alarm clock. 4 am. She rose from bed deciding that since it was her first day back she might as well get a head start on the day. Walking into the bathroom, she looked at her reflection in the mirror. Her eyes always traveled to the small circular would on her shoulder. Dark circles under her eyes, her jutting collar bone, and the dark empty look in her eyes. She looked tired yes but she was so much more. She was ready to get back to her job. She was restless and that made her dangerous.