A/N So the first couple of chapters of this story have been sitting on my computer for ages, and since I just started watching the Shadowhunters TV show, I figured this was as good a time as any to finally post it.

Basically, through a very contrived plot device (sorry) Clary and Jace end up back in 1850s London where they encounter our favorite 19th century British Shadowhunters and must join forces in order to defeat Mortmain and return home.

Disclaimer: Aside from not owning either TMI or TID and making no money off of this story, it has been a while since I've read either of them, so I sincerely apologize for any continuity errors and the like.

This story is set after CoG and Clockwork Prince. Enjoy.


Clary pulled irritably at the Shadowhunter gear she was wearing. She was usually completely comfortable in the leather's firm flexibility, but for some reason that night it just seemed to grate strangely against her skin. Trying to take her mind off her discomfort, she looked around. To her surprise, she saw that Jace was leading her into a part of New York she wasn't familiar with. "Where is this church?" she asked, trying to keep the worst of her irritation out of her voice, but she feared that some had slipped through.

Jace looked down at her, eyebrow raised, no doubt at the irritated tone of the question. "It's not much farther." He answered absently. His face morphed into one of concern. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine." Clary answered. "Just sore from training. Why are we going there again?"

"What, can't a guy take his girlfriend out on a midnight fighting date and not have his motives questioned?" he asked lightly, an easy, teasing grin spreading across his face.

Clary rolled her eyes and slapped his chest half-heartedly.

Jace threw back his head and laughed. It was good to hear him laugh like that. The weight of the war with Valentine was lifting off of everyone's shoulders, but it was taking longer with some. Those who had lost friends and family. Clary knew that Jace blamed himself at least a little bit. He'd had the chance to kill Valentine on Blackwell's Island and hadn't taken it.

Of course, no one else would even consider laying blame on him, but Clary knew that despite everything he had done since then, he still felt that he could have prevented Max's death.

The end of Jace's laugh brought Clary out of her thoughts, and she couldn't prevent herself from rolling her eyes again. "Yeah, laugh all you want, I still don't understand why we have to go there. It's the middle of the night for god's sake!"

Jace chuckled again, but this time he deigned to give her a real answer. "Magnus told Alec that some mundane cult was going to try and raise a demon tonight." His voice lowered as though he were telling a ghost story. "Apparently some strange sort of demons plagued the clave in 1800's London, and this stupid bunch of mundanes worship them."

"Yeah, I know that, but why do we have to be there?" Clary asked.

"It's something we Shadowhunters tend to do. Protect mundanes from demonkind. As you spend more time with us you'll realize that's one of our favorite pass-times."

"Oh come on! They're not Warlocks, they're just normal people. They probably wouldn't be able to raise a flower let alone a demon."

Jace smiled. "You're probably right. Chances are they'll try for a few hours, then go home to their ignorant little lives sorely disappointed by the fact that they failed to get themselves slaughtered." He shook his head. "What you mundanes do for fun."

"I'm not a mundane," Clary said sourly.

"No you're not." Jace bent down and swiftly kissed the small frown that had come over her face. Then his expression turned serious. "They probably won't accomplish anything, but Magnus seemed to think that they were a big enough threat to warn us about them, so that's got to mean something. Besides, I thought it would be a good mission for you. Nothing too dangerous."

Clary frowned again. "You don't need to protect me, Jace! I'm never going to learn to be a Shadowhunter if you don't let me go on dangerous missions!"

"I'm not about to throw you into the middle of demon den and have you fight your way out! You'll get to more serious stuff, but first you have to get more training."

Clary looked down, annoyed, but decided the argument wasn't worth it. They walked the rest of the way in silence. When they reached their destination, a large church that was deteriorating from age, Jace finally broke it.

"We'll go in through the back door and stay in the shadows. The ceremony should already have started. If nothing happens, there's no reason they need to know about our presence."

"Shouldn't we stop them, break it up or something? If nothing happens this time, what's to say that they won't try again later and succeed?" Clary asked.

"The Clave doesn't have resources to monitor all of the mundanes trying stupid stunts like this. If it's not these ones, it'll be someone else. Keeping the Nephilim a secret takes precedence over everything else. Besides, if they don't raise a demon tonight, it's unlikely that they'll get it right next time."

Clary nodded. "Okay. Got it. Let's go in."

The two of them carefully crept into the church through an open basement window. They then proceeded to quietly make their way up the stairs into the main floor, Jace leading the way.

"Shhhh!" Jace said, pressing his forefinger to his lips when Clary accidently creaked a stair.

Clary glared at him, but did put forth a bigger effort in moving silently, like him.

A few more steps, and they reached the doorway. Jace put his ear to the door. "I hear something," he whispered urgently to Clary.

Clary nodded and moved to stand on the step beside him, listening intently. There were definitely muffled voices coming from the room behind the door.

Jace smoothly took his stele out of his pocket and drew a rune on the door, which transformed a section of it into a one-way window.

They were looking into the main room of the church. Hooded figures stood all around, some muttering to one another, others silently drawing on the floor. All the pews had been pushed to the walls, to make room for the ceremony.

"Aren't most church pews bolted to the ground or something?" Clary whispered to Jace.

He nodded. "Most are, but this church was probably built by members of this cult years ago, and they most likely designed it with the ritual in mind. It's not really all that uncommon. You'd be amazed how many churches are cover-ups for demon-worshipping cults and the like."

Clary looked at him incredulously, unable to tell whether or not he was kidding.

They fell easily into silence, both intently focused on their task. After about forty minutes, whatever the figures were drawing on the floor was complete. They all gathered around it and began chanting. A few minutes later, a specific figure (who Clary took for the leader) raised a jeweled knife over his head, showing it off to everyone else in the circle. He then rolled up his sleeve. He brought the knife to forearm and in striking motion, raked it across his skin. He raised the wounded arm up and let the drops of blood fall onto the symbol on the floor. The chanting began again, and he passed the knife to the next person, who did the same thing.

Jace's eyebrows knitted together. "Something's wrong," he muttered, more to himself than to Clary.

"What is it?"

"This is all correct." He turned to Clary, and she saw something flicker in his eyes. "I think they might actually do it!"

"What, raise a demon?"

He nodded. "We need to call Alec and Isabelle. I'm not going to put you in the middle of this!"

Clary was fuming. "But what was the point of bringing me here if I'm not going to actually fight when something happens?"

"Clary, I don't know anything about the demon they're trying to raise, it could be a greater demon, one immune to seraph blades, anything!"

"How am I going to learn to fight like a shadowhunter, if you never let me actually fight?"

Jace put his hand to his head. "Clary, please! Just let us handle this!" he reached into his pocket, and immediately groaned. "Damn it! I left my phone at the institute!"

"Well that was stupid."

Jace glared at Clary. "Well I wasn't exactly thinking we'd need backup."

"We don't! We don't even know what's going on! At least give me a chance!"

Jace opened his mouth, about to say something, but a large whooshing sound from the next room stopped him. They both turned to look through the makeshift window.

A large swirling portal had opened in the middle of the room.

"Damn it!" Jace said again, immediately reaching for his weapons.

Clary did the same, pulling a seraph from her belt. She held it close to her chest, unwilling to name it until she was sure it was necessary. There was no point in wasting a good seraph blade.

Jace motioned for her to be absolutely quiet.

She nodded.

Suddenly, a large form lumbered out of the portal. Clary had never seen anything like it. It seemed to made from clockwork. Before she had time to think about it, Jace burst through the door, muttering "Raphael," as he did. A glowing seraph sprang from the hilt.

Clary murmured a curse under her breath, and quickly followed him. "Azraiel," she whispered, naming her own blade.

Jace had already begun attacking the thing.

The figures had dispersed into corners around the room. In the confusion, many of their hoods had fallen off. All over Clary saw the faces of terrified mundanes. It was amazing how normal they all looked. Ordinary haircuts, some even wore glasses. For the first time she wondered if they'd really been expecting to succeed.

The one who appeared to be the leader stepped forward and, ignoring Jace, made to address the creature. "O lord, we are your loyal servants. We brought you into being in this world. In return we ask nothing and pledge our undying loyal-"

Before he could say anything else, Jace turned from the fight and hit him in the head with the hilt of the knife. As he slumped to the floor, Jace turned to the others, and announced, "If you don't want to die, leave now."

They didn't need telling twice. Most fell over themselves running for the door. Two of them ran over to their fallen leader and quickly pulled him out of the way of the fight. Together, they carried him out of the church. In moment, they had all fled, leaving Clary and Jace alone with the thing.

Clary sprang into action beside Jace, slashing and cutting the creature's metal limbs. Unfortunately, it didn't seem to be doing much damage. "This isn't working," she shouted, ducking under an arm as it came whirling toward her head.

"I know!" Jace yelled back.

"What are we going to-" Clary cut off suddenly, as the thing took another swing at her, this time trying to sweep her legs out from under her. She managed to get one foot over the metal arm, but didn't quite have time to pull the second one out of the way. It met the metal with a sickening crack. Pain went shooting through her leg, and she screamed.

"Clary!" Jace shouted, trying to make his way over to her.

Clary barely heard him. Her entire mind was consumed with the pain. It flowed up her leg in waves. In a second, she lost her balance, and fell over, tumbling to the floor.

"Clary!" Jace screamed again, and in a moment she understood why.

She had been standing too close to the portal. It was sucking her in. She barely had the strength, to shout "Jace!" before getting pulled through.

He leaped, closing the distance between them, just managing to grab her hand before she disappeared completely. But it was too late. Clary was gone. Instead, the portal just sucked Jace through along with her.


A/N and there's the prologue. There'll be more fun next chapter when everyone actually meets up :). Anyway, while I wish that I could promise timely updates, anyone who knows me would no that's a lie. That being said, I have another few chapters written (Albeit not in order) so those should be forthcoming. I'm really not sure whether or not it's worth actually finishing the story, and would love to hear your guys' feedback! Thanks for reading!