Hey guys! I just want you to know that I'm really enjoying writing this story, but please R&R so I know what to change or add! :) I will try and post often, maybe once or twice a week depending on my work load at school. Please enjoy the story! Xoxo!

Disclaimer: I don't own the main characters in this story! (Tessa, Will, Jem, etc.) They belong to Cassandra Clare! :)

Part 1: The Nightmares Never Stop ~ Tessa

Tessa Gray was bolting down the wet streets of London completely terrified. She knew she had to find a place to hide. The sky above was pitch black, the clouds concealing what little sliver of moon there was. It was pouring down rain and wind whistled all around her, creating a biting chill in the air.

Tessa's dark brown hair was flying behind her in wet strands, the wind whipping around and hitting her in the face. Tears were pouring down her dirt-stained cheeks, the warmth and saltiness of them mixing with the cold, fresh raindrops.

As she ran, she frantically looked over her shoulder to see if it was following her. Her hair was getting in the way, though, and it was making it hard for her to see. Suddenly, she slipped on a patch of mud and went tumbling toward the cement below her. She landed hard on her elbows and knees, and the shock of the impact spread through her body. The sound of her jeans ripping at the knees tore through the air.

Come on, Tessa, you need to get up. It's coming after you! A voice in her head shouted at her.

Tessa tried with all her might to push herself up from the ground, but she couldn't move. She collapsed, rolling on her back, sobs wracking her body violently.

She heard a terrible screeching noise above her. Her eyes flew open and she saw the worm-like thing torpedo down toward her, its mouth agape as it descended upon her head. Before it could reach her, she smelled the foulness of its breath; like rotten meat mixed with curdled milk.

And then its barbed teeth pierced her skin and everything went black.

Tessa awoke with a start. She sat straight up in her bed, drenched in cold sweat and her heart racing a million miles a minute. She looked across her room into her mirror; her wavy brown hair was a ratted nest around her head, her steel-grey doe-eyes now wide and frenetic, her nightgown twisted, and her white sheets tangled around her body

"Holy crap," she gasped. "It was just a bad dream, Tess. It was just a bad dream."

No matter how many times she repeated this mantra to herself, though, she knew she was telling herself a lie. She had been having dreams like this every night for the past month, since she came to London from New York City.

Lately, however, she had been feeling like these dreams were less like nightmares and more like a reality both day in and day out. Just yesterday she was at work at the bookstore down the block from her apartment. She had glanced up from behind the checkout counter and swore she saw a person standing there, watching her, a forked tongue flickering through its—their?—teeth. It put her on edge the rest of the day.

Just last week, walking home from getting a cup of coffee, she could swear she saw the worm-like monster lurking in the shadows in an alleyway. She nearly screamed and had run the rest of the way to her apartment.

The week before that, two women—one short and plump, the other tall and rail-thin—both with talon-like hands, stopped her on the side of the street on the way to work. They had pulled Tessa into a dark alley, hissing to her that she "belonged to them" and that they worked with Nate. Tessa heard them refer to each other as "Mrs. Black" and "Mrs. Dark". As they were bickering to each about who would bring her to "the Magister", Tessa bolted and ducked into a highly populated coffee shop.

Now, Tessa leaned over to her bedside table and flipped on her lamp. The dark had long since begun to terrify her. She no longer felt safe anywhere she went, even if she was among a large crowd of people.

She fell back against her pillows. She wished Nate, her brother, could witness these night terrors. She knew he could calm her down. Unfortunately for her, though, Nate was always in and out because of his job. He was a businessman for Mortmain Parts Inc. and was always going away to do business for Mr. Mortmain.

Tessa had met Mr. Axel Mortmain a few times upon Nate's insistence. The first time had been a few hours after her arrival in London. She remembered Mr. Mortmain as a short, bald man. He didn't seem very intimidating by appearance but Tessa got a feeling whenever she was around him that the man was very powerful. She knew that Nate knew that and that's why Nate was such a loyal worker for Mortmain.

She reflected back to when she first got to London. She had just graduated from Manhattan High School. Her Aunt Harriett and Nate had both been there when she delivered her graduation speech. A week later, her Aunt Harriett had suffered a fatal heart attack, and Tessa, wanting to be somewhere where her last living relative lived, had asked Nate if she could live with him. He accepted, of course, and they bought her a plane ticket. She packed up all of her things, which wasn't much, and hopped on a plan to London. Nate had greeted her at the gates, and off she went to his apartment with three suitcases of clothing and three suitcases filled with books.

She recalled Mortmain telling her if she ever needed her brother, just to call either Nate or himself. She was curious about that now. Mortmain had always taken such a keen interest in Tessa…

Before Tessa could think anymore, she reached over to her dresser and picked up her cell phone. She dialed Nate's number, but there was no answer. She sighed, desperate now, and dialed Mortmain's number.

"Axel Mortmain speaking," he barked into the phone.

Tessa took a deep, shaky breath. "Mr. Mortmain, this is Theresa Gray, Nathaniel Gray's sister. Is Nate around by any chance? I need to speak with him. It's urgent."

Part 2: Will

William Herondale sat at his desk in his bedroom reading The Great Expectations by Charles Dickens. It was well past midnight and yet he was having trouble sleeping, despite the exhaustion his body and mind were feeling. He knew he desperately needed a good night's sleep, but he hadn't slept in days.

Perhaps it was because of the dreams he kept having of a certain young woman? Will kept having these terrible dreams where a beautiful young woman with frightened gray eyes and wavy brown hair is running for her life away from… something. It always ended the same way: she falls and the demon catches her.

Will shook his head to clear the images from his mind. He tried to focus once again on the book he was reading, but he couldn't stay focused for long. He felt his eyes drooping, and he rested his head on his desk. He quickly fell asleep.

In Will's dream, he saw the young woman rush out of a book store, ducking her head to avoid the rain. She walked quickly down the block and stopped at an apartment building. Will could hear a whispering voice talk to her, and she froze.

"Come with us, young one. The Magister wants to speak with you. He has Nate. We know you've wanted to speak with him about the nightmares you've been having," the voice hissed. Then it cackled—a long, throaty laugh.

The girl stepped back from the apartment building and peered into an alley adjacent to the building. It was too dark outside to see anything. Suddenly, the all-too familiar worm-like thing leaped out at her and she screamed. She started running.

And she kept running.

But she fell, and Will knew this was the end of it.

Something was different, though. She picked herself back up and kept running. She rounded a corner, and Will recognized the road she was on. She was running on the docks of the slums of Thames. It was only a couple of streets away from the Institute. She took another turn, but it was a wrong turn. She ran into an alley to hide.

She thought she was safe.

Run! Will could hear himself thinking. Why couldn't she hear him?

But the demon found her.

Will sprang to his feet, and instantly regretted doing so. All the blood rushed from his head and his vision went black momentarily. He gripped the desk until the dizziness passed.

He stretched out, feeling the effects of sleeping hunched over in all the wrong ways. He frowned when he saw the sunlight streaming through the window.

He'd slept most of the night?

He glanced down at his phone charging on the desk beside the spot he'd just been sleeping. It was eleven o'clock in the morning. The others were probably getting worried about him.

Will gathered his shower items and clothes to go take a shower. As the water ran over his body, he couldn't help but feel freaked out by the nightmare he kept having.

Is someone trying to tell me something? He couldn't help but think. Will stepped out of the shower and got dressed.

"No, it's just my mind playing tricks on me. Like I could ever get my panties twisted over the girl of my dreams." He chuckled at his own joke and went downstairs to eat something because, by the Angel, a teenage boy needs to eat!

Will strolled into the kitchen after checking to see that no one was in the dining along with no food. Will both saw and heard the cook dancing and singing along to the radio while preparing the next meal.

Will cleared his throat. "Bonnie?"

Bonnie jumped and spun around, holding a knife out in front of her. When she saw it was Will, she placed a hand over her heart and lowered the knife. "Mr. Will," she gasped in her Russian accent. "You startled me!"

Will smirked. "I didn't mean to startle you, Bonnie. I was just coming to ask if you had anything I could eat."

Bonnie raised an eyebrow; she'd always appreciated Will's appearance, but had never been too fond of his attitude and his lack of thankfulness. "Where were you during breakfast time, Mr. Will?"

Will rubbed the back of his neck. "I overslept," was all he said.

Bonnie turned toward the pantry and searched the shelves for a few moments, her plump figure struggling a bit. A moment later, she pulled out some Pop Tarts and handed them to Will, which he took gratefully.

"Thank you, Bonnie." She nodded in his direction and turned her attention back on the meal she was preparing. Will spun on his heel to head down the hallway when he saw his parabatai, James Carstairs.

"Jem!" he called out, a grin breaking across his face.

Jem beamed. "Will! Where were you at breakfast?" As Jem got closer, he got a better look at Will.

"I overslept, I guess," Will admitted.

"You guess? Well you look much more rested than you have been lately. Have the dreams stopped? The ones about that girl?"

Will looked over at his friend, meeting his gaze with somber eyes. "No, Jem. I still get them every night."