Anddddd I'm back! But this time I'm not alone. I'm happy to announce that foolishmundanes and I will be co-writing this story together! Oh and I applaud her for beautifully crafting the cover image for this fic from Cassandra Jean's portraits of the TLH characters :)

This is basically our take on what happens in TLH. Do not read if you haven't read The Midnight Heir. Otherwise you will be heavily spoiled!

So we have the prologue ready for you all. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: no, we are not Cassandra Clare. But we sure wish we were!

Prologue

There was a knock at the door. Tatiana stood up from the study in Lightwood manor, her skirts swishing about around her. As she made her way towards the door, she spotted Grace in the corner of her eye, and she quickly told her, "Be sure to behave yourself, Grace. We'll be having another visitor." She put emphasis on the word 'visitor' with a certain amount of warning, and Grace nodded in confirmation, shrinking back into the shadows.

Tatiana smoothed her worn, fuschia dress as she stumbled down the long, winding staircase towards the door. Carefully, she opened it. This wouldn't be the first time Tatiana Blackthorn had requested to meet with a warlock. Many of them had refused her offer, even at the mention of a grand amount of money. Unfortunately, each visit was the same; they'd all refused, leaving the manor as fast as they could.

She eyed the warlock with contempt, and opened the door wide enough to let him in. He entered with his eyes roaming about the room, a hint of surprise in them.

"Come, warlock," Tatiana said before the warlock could comment on the dilapidated manor. "I believe we have business to discuss."

The warlock stepped inside the foyer of the manor. Tatiana did a quick survey of the gardens outside before shutting the door and driving the lock home. She watched him as his eyes fell on Grace, who had peaked out of the darkness and appeared at the top of the stairs. She smiled triumphantly at him. His mouth was parted in astonishment. Just like the rest of them. Grace was strikingly beautiful after all.

Tatiana looked over to him, still smiling. "Magnificent, yes? My Grace."

The warlock snapped out of his trance, and then bowed courteously. "Pleasure," he muttered. Tatiana led him up the deteriorating staircase, the warlock being careful to avoid any rough patches. They reached the top and Tatiana ushered him into the foyer, Grace on their heels.

"I would actually prefer if we had this conversation alone," the warlock said curtly.

Tatiana made an irritated sound. "Very well," she scoffed, "Grace, if you please."

Grace gave them a look of silent inquiry, before nodding. "Yes, Mama." And she wandered off without a second glance and disappeared into the house, until she was no longer visible.

"Do not touch any of the doors or drawers," Tatiana instructed to the warlock, voice echoing in the vast manor, "while you are here." She crossed the room and shut the door, more as a precaution to keep Grace out. Meanwhile, the warlock had thrown himself onto a nearby armchair and began to make himself comfortable. He snapped his fingers and flames spewed out, illuminating the room, giving it a warm glow contrary to its atmosphere.

"What do you want?" the warlock asked lazily. "You called for me at the most unfortunate hour. Now, this better be important."

"I want a favor," Tatiana said, giving him a cold glare.

"A favor?" the warlock asked, raising his singular brow. Like most warlocks, he had an unusual appearance. He was unusually tall with his skin and hair in a nearly matching shade of light blue. On top of that, he had an extra digit to each hand. This all unnerved Tatiana, but she kept her focus. "What makes you think I would do you a favor?"

"I have a handsome price I'm willing to pay," Tatiana slid him a conniving smile, "and I know that you will accept it." She gestured to the desk at the corner, where a huge pile of coins sat at, more than one could imagine. The warlock followed her hand and his eyes widened in disbelief.

He smiled at her. "Very well. What shall it be?"

"Do you remember that day? It was twenty-five years ago, the day that my father was ruthlessly murdered." The warlock jerked back, taken completely by surprise.

"Why, yes," the warlock cleared his throat, "a tragic loss indeed it was for Benedict Lightwood."

"Yes, it was," Tatiana brushed him off and continued, "well, certain Shadowhunters were responsible for killing an innocent, defenseless man. I want you to end them."

"And how do you propose I do it?" the warlock inquired, suddenly looking very intrigued.

Tatiana gave him a satisfied look. "I want you to kill me five Shadowhunters."

"Revenge isn't always the best answer," the warlock shook his head, increasingly growing wary with each moment.

"Are you sure about that, warlock?" Tatiana retorted. "Because, this could make or break your career. You certainly do not want your lifeline teetering off the edge." She indicated towards the desk and then his eyes shifted back to the money. He seemed to be waging a mental war within himself. Then, he slid his gaze back to Tatiana, levelling his eyes with hers.

"I think we have reached an agreement, Mrs. Blackthorn," he said, grinning to reveal pointy teeth.

"I am glad we finally have. You will enjoy your reward, Cyrus Fade."

"How would you like me to do it? And when do you propose I should start?"

"Do whatever you must to complete the job," Tatiana said with a flourish of her hand, "and start as soon as possible. We must surprise them. They must feel the same pain that I felt when their parents killed my father. And may they burn in Hell."

"One last question. Who is in service?"

Tatiana smiled wickedly. "Christopher Lightwood. Lucie Herondale. Thomas Lightwood. Matthew Fairchild. And James Herondale."

There you have it! So what do you think? It's not much, but trust us, this is imperative for the entire story. Could we get 3 reviews for the next chappie?

Thanks!

~ The Pale Red Queen and foolishmundanes