Bright green eyes, like little lights, cutting sharply through the swirling smoke. His hair was electric blue, gelled into spikes, the only abnormal thing about him. His skin was pale and covered in a sheen of sweat, just like a regular mundie. But the long, razor sharp blade in his hand spoke otherwise.

An Eidolon demon, noted Jace Wayland. Shape-shifter. Hard to spot, especially in public places. But easy to kill, not worth much. Still, it was a demon and had to be disposed of. The catching would be the hard part.

But that was what Isabelle Lightwood was for. Her dress, bell-sleeved and the color of ivory, shone through the dim lighting like a beacon. The fabric was fine and delicate, but still opaque enough to hide from view the Marks that covered her limbs. The red pendant at her throat pulsed with a scarlet glow, drawing attention to her like moths to a lamp. There was no way the demon would miss her. She would be an excellent meal.

"Come on," Jace murmured. His parabatai, Alec Lightwood, glanced over at him.

"But the demon isn't following-no, he is." whispered Alec as he peered between the dancing mundies at Isabelle and the Eidolon. "They're going to that storage room over there. Do you have your knife, Jace?"

In one smooth motion Jace flicked a seraph blade from his belt and held it up. The silvery surface caught the light and sent rays of red and green and neon pink dancing through the air. It would've drawn attention to them, if not for the fact that both boys had glamour runes inked on their arms.

They began to move across the floor, weaving through the crowd with the smooth, slinking grace that came naturally to Shadowhunters. Jace held the blade loosely, running his finger over the edge lightly as he followed the demon away from the mundanes and into the storage room.

The room was dark, almost pitch-black. Wires were strewn across the floor, the thin snakes. A small shaft of light that came from the bottom door crack cast eerie shadows over the cement walls. In the center of the room stood Isabelle and the demon, making small talk. A crooked smile stole over Jace's lips as he listened in.

"What's your name?" That was the demon, his face dimly lit by moonlight from the barred windows.

"Isabelle." Her voice was smooth, soft, seductive. There was an undercurrent of amusement to her tone, almost undistinguishable. She was enjoying this, the last few moments of the charade before it came to time for the demon to go home.

He walked towards her, carefully avoiding the wires on the ground. "That's a nice name." He paused and smiled at her, obviously relishing the angelically beautiful sight of her seemingly defenceless before him. "I haven't seen you here before."

Classic, thought Jace wryly. The classic line. Almost boring, but he had to admit that it usually worked. He'd used the line before at nightclubs on unsuspecting mundies. But Isabelle knew what was going on, and was far from unsuspecting.

"You're asking me if I come here often?" She let out a soft giggle, covering her mouth with one slim hand. The action pulled her sleeve from her wrist, exposing pale skin covered in the black ink of her Marks. The charade was up.

The demon tried speaking, opening and closing his mouth like a fish as he stumbled back. But Isabelle was too fast; striking him to shake his balance and sending him sprawling with pain as her electrum whip coiled around his ankle. Agony twisted his features grotesquely.

"He's all yours, boys."

The words. Jace relished the sound of them as he rose from his hiding place and caught the demon's shoulders in his hands. His fingers twisted into the fabric of the Eidolon's jacket and he hauled the creature upright, dragging him to a stone pillar and securing him with wire.

Pain. Clear and sharp, visible in every part of the demon but mostly in his eyes. It shone out and Jace loved it, loved the look so much. The best part of being a Shadowhunter was victory.

"So, are there any more of you?"

"Any other what?" It was cute, it really was. The fact that even now the demon was denying what he was. Face-to-face with his enemy and lying about the obvious.

"Come on, now." Jace held up his hands. The black sleeves, made of the fabric that all Shadowhunters used for hunting, slipped down. Black lines of ink marked his hands, arms, wrists. The demon flinched at the sight of them, and Jace grinned a toothy smile. "You know what I am."

"Shadowhunter." The Eidolon forced the word through his teeth, layering hatred over every syllable. He was trapped and he knew it. It was over.

And that was when the trouble started.

"So," Jace said, folding his arms over his chest. He made sure to keep his eyes on the demon, watching every move. Deliberating was fun, but dangerous. "You still haven't told me if there are any other of your kind with you."

The Eidolon was sulking, his ego bruised. "I don't know what you're talking about," he muttered.

Alec spoke up finally. "He means other demons." There was a sarcastic lilt to his tone that sent a smile across Jace's lips. "You do know what a demon is, don't you?"

The demon turned away, mouth working. He had the familiar tells of an Eidolon in mundane form: unusually arching eyebrows, slightly transparent skin, abnormal eye color. In his case, the iris of the eyes was a brilliant green, antifreeze color. Here, in a club of the 21st century, these did not stand out. If anything, they were common-place, something that made it all the more harder to catch the devil spawn.

Jace smiled lazily, drinking up the demon's discomfort. Let him writhe in pain. Let him feel the consequences for leaving his dead world and occupying a living one, one where he was not welcome. "Demons." He traced the accursed word in the air with a finger, and loops and curves for dramatic effect. All of this was for dramatic effect.

"Religiously defined as hell's denizens, the servants of Satan, but understood here, for the purposes of the Clave, to be any malevolent spirit whose origin is outside our own home dimension-"

Isabelle frowned at him, clearly disapproving of the way he carried on. "That's enough, Jace."

Alec, ever the responsible and practical one, nodded his head in agreement. "Isabelle's right," he said, pursing his lips at Jace. "Nobody here needs a lesson in semantics - or demonology." Sometimes, Alec was annoying.

They were right, though. He did get carried away sometimes. Entirely understandable, of course. He was not a Shadowhunter, he was the Shadowhunter. Best of the lot. Who could blame him for spreading his fame among the n'ere living? "Isabelle and Alec think I talk too much," Jace told the demon. He kept his tone mockingly confiding, as if sharing a great secret. "Do you think I talk too much?"

The demon was thinking fast, trying to buy time. The familiar look of desperation was crossing his features. "I could give you information," he burst out. "I-I know where Valentine is."

Scorn rose up inside Jace. The name was a cursed one, and shameful to every Shadowhunter who heard it. For the old, it meant memories of a bloody war that tore the Clave in half. For the young, it meant a threat, hovering just out of sight. Quirking his lip disdainfully, he glanced back at Alec for a moment. His parabatai shrugged, slightly uncomfortable. Maryse and Robert Lightwood had been part of Valentine's Circle, and it still embarrassed Alec.

"Valentine's in the ground," Jace said. "The thing's just toying with us." As all demon's like to do.

Isabelle tossed her hair with a look of scorn. She didn't have as close of a relationship with her parents as Alec did, and considered their treachery nothing more than a dark, cloudy history, something found in old dusty textbooks. "Kill it, Jace," she said. "It's not going to tell us anything."

The fun little game they'd been playing was up. It was time to take care of business and leave. Jace flicked his wrist and the seraph blade he'd been concealing appeared in his hand. The red stones on the hilt glittered like fire in the light of the pale moon. The blade was translucent and clear as a crystal. The adamas shone with a silvery sheen in the dim light.

The demon let out a strangled sound of panic, a sort of cross between a gasp and a yell. It was a desperate sound, the sound of someone who was trapped in the most frightening moment of their life. "Valentine is back!" he cried out, tugging frantically at his bonds. "All the Infernal Worlds know it - I know it - I can tell you where he is-"

Jace had had enough. The demon's always brought up Valentine, offering an exchange of lies for their life. Every single time. "By the Angel, every time we catch one of you bastards-" -Alec flinched- "-you claim you know where Valentine is." He regarded the demon scornfully, turning the seraph blade over. The moonlight caught the edge of the blade and made it spark like a line of fire. "Well, we know where he is too. He's in hell. And you-" He smirked. "You can join him there."

"Stop!" a strange voice cried. "You can't do this!"

Shock fairly slammed into Jace, practically knocking the wind from his lungs. The seraph blade slipped from his grip and clattered against the floor, spinning away from him. At first he thought it was another Shadowhunter. But that was ridiculous; they three were the only New York Shadowhunters, the only occupants of the NY Institute other than Hodge. It couldn't be a foreign Shadowhunter, because they'd have received notice. Besides, it was a girl's voice, with a slight New York accent.

Alec spoke first, his tone indignant and demanding. "What's this?" He looked at Isabelle and Jace as if they might know what was going on.

Jace regained his composure quickly and focused on the newcomer. She was small, with thick coppery curls and pale skin. Didn't look like the type that came to the club; fairly normal, wearing white midi-shorts and a purple T-shirt. Her eyes were a bright, vivid green, like emeralds or jade. Her small fists were clenched, whether in fear or anger Jace didn't know. What struck him was the fact that she was so tiny, a little red-headed bundle of fire. A little girl, maybe fourteen or less.

"It's a girl," he said finally. "Surely you've seen girls before, Alec. Your sister Isabelle is one." He took a step towards the girl, examining her. She was shaking slightly, as if she realized how much she was out of her depth. "A mundie girl," he murmured, half in shock and half in slight awe. "And she can see us."

She frowned at him. "Of course I can see you," she said. "I'm not blind, you know."

Jace suddenly wanted to burst out laughing. The way she said was hilarious, so self-confident when in reality she had no idea. "Oh, but you are," he said, smirking as he picked up his knife. "You just don't know it." He cocked his head and observed her for a moment. "You'd better get out of here, if you know what's good for you."

She scowled. "I'm not going anywhere." There was a haughty tone to her voice that challenged him, something that hadn't happened for a long time. He found himself enjoying the verbal fight. "If I do, you'll kill him." She pointed at the Eidolon, who was watching her appraisingly.

Jace twirled the knife between his fingers. He was showing off to her and he knew it. Why was what he didn't know. "That's true. What do you care if I kill him or not?"

The girl seemed startled. "Be-because-" she spluttered. "You can't just go around killing people."

"You're right," he said, spreading his hands wide. The seraph blade glinted in the moonlight and reflected in the girl's clear, bright eyes. "You can't go around killing people." He pointed towards the demon, who was still watching them closely. "That is not a person, little girl." He spoke the words scornfully, showing her how superior he was to her. "It may look like a person and talk like a person and maybe even bleed like a person. But it's a monster."

Isabelle shot him a warning look. She and Alec had not yet lowered their respective weapons, unsure of the girl's identity and intentions. "Jace," she hissed. "That's enough."

The girl was regarding them all with a sort of disgusted fear, the kind of fear one has when approached with mad people. "You're crazy," she spat, backing away from him. "I-I've called the police, you know. They'll be here any second."

Jace cursed inwardly. The police were a nuisance. Always asking questions and giving suspicious looks. If they girl was telling the truth, which he suspected she wasn't, then they'd have to get the job done quickly.

"She's lying," Alec said, but it mostly sounded like he was convincing himself. "Jace, do you-"

At the moment, the Eidolon tore himself free of his bonds and launched himself at Jace. For such a small demon, he sure weighed a lot. The two rolled on the ground, grappling. The demon tore at his chest with razor-sharp finger, sending pain shooting in sparks all over his body. Blood wet his hands, warm and wet. The demon slashed at Jace's face and he just managed to fend off the blow with a raised arm. The claws raked his arm, leaving deep cuts that throbbed and stung. Blood splattered everywhere.

The demon lunged again, claws outstretched, but at the last minute rolled away with a pained shriek. Isabelle's whip rose for another strike and Jace took advantage of the demon's preoccupied state. He rolled to the side and sprang up, ignoring the pain in his chest and his arm. Nothing an iratze couldn't heal. He picked up his seraph blade and plunged it into the demon's chest, sending a fountain of black blood spurting into the air. The demon gurgled and twisted, writhing in pain.

Jace rose, grimacing. He glanced down at the twisted form at his feet and felt a grim triumph feel his veins with warmth. He bent and pulled the knife from the boyd. It slid easily out and dripped black blood on the concrete floor. The demon's eyes flickered open. Pain was clear in them, agony in every vein. His eyes were red with hatred. "So be it," he snarled. "The Forsaken will take you all."

He felt a shiver of dread at that. What could the cursed creature mean? But Alec and Isabelle were watching him, waiting, so he snarled the last

words. "Redeunt unde venisti." Go back from whence you came.

The demon's body seemed to fold in on itself, becoming smaller and smaller until it disappeared altogether. Alec rushed to Jace's side, concern etched in his face. "Are you okay?"

"I'll be fine," Jace muttered, shoving Alec's arm away. "All I need is an iratze."

Alec fumbled in his pockets for his stele. "Do you want me to draw it? My stele's here somewhere-"

"Not," interrupted Jace, "In front of her."

Alec stopped short and cast a glance back, where the girl stood pinned in place by Isabelle's whip. "Stupid little mundie," Isabelle was saying. "You could've gotten Jace killed."

"He's crazy," said the girl, trying to pull the whip from her wrist. "You're all crazy. What do you think you are, vigilante killers? The police-"

Back to the imaginary police officers again. "The police aren't usually interested unless you can produce a body," Jace told her. He picked his way cautiously across the wire-strewn floor towards the girl. Now that he was closer to her, he could see that there was a certain innocence about her, a certain charm the coupled well with her petite features. She was, in a way, pretty.

She glanced at the spot where the demon had been and her eyes widened. Jace smiled. "They return to their home dimensions when they die. In case you were wondering."

Alec drew in a sharp breath. "Jace," he hissed warningly. "Be careful."

Jace drew his arm away from his face and studied the girl. She was intelligent, it was visible in the way she held herself, the way she spoke. She knew about them, knew their names, their kind. Knew about demons and Shadowhunters and seraph blades and God knows what else. "She can see us, Alec," he said softly. "She already knows too much."

"So?" Isabelle demanded loudly. "What do you want me to do with her?"

So many choices. Injure her, knock her unconscious, threaten her, wipe her memory. His answer surprised them all. "Let her go."

That was the first time Jace's heart made a decision for him, and it would certainly not be the last.