City of Sin

Chapter 1:

Vegas, 1955

The sun had set on the city hours ago, but the night was still young. The moon hung low in the sky, blanketing the streets in its white-ish glow even in the darkest of corners. A signal pedestrian could be seen walking the streets; head hung low in quiet thought, his boots scuffing against the hardened sidewalk. His boot falls came in a steady, but determined pace a sign that the gentlemen knew where he was going.

It wasn't long before the young man's attention was distracted by the faint sound of heels clicking against the same pavement. The footsteps were light and from the sound of it, there were two sets of feet coming his gentlemen raised his head and sure enough, two women could be seen walking in his direction.

"Evening, ladies," the young man said, tipping his hat in greeting towards the women. Both women gasped and quickly crossed the narrow street, giggling as they looked back at the handsome stranger.

The man smiled as he heard the women giggling about the "notorious criminal who had the face of an angel." Having your face in the papers every other week sure did enough for a man's ego and apparently, his reputation.

The man continued his pace until he came upon his destination: Edom. Edom, notorious for it's charm as a speakeasy, stood out as one of Sin City's best nightclubs for business or pleasure. Tonight, the young man was here for pleasure.

Stepping up to the front entrance, the golden-haired male spoke the word "Raziel" and was granted access into the club. The moment he stepped inside, a cloud of tobacco smoke surrounded him and the smell of alcohol stung the back of his throat.

Making his way into the main seating area, the young man sat at his usual spot at the bar and ordered his usual house beer. He thanked the bartender once his beer was in his hand and turned in his seat towards the main dancing stage where a young woman danced to the beat of the music.

This girl was tall, her legs stretching forever, her raven-black hair coming down to the middle of her back. She was a very stunning woman, almost too beautiful in the young man's mind. He watched her as she danced, her hips swinging sensuously to the beat until the music quieted and the dance was over.

When the next dancer came out, the young man straightened in his chair. This is what he had been waiting for all night, in fact, the very reason he attended this club every night for the past week. On stage, was a young, woman with fiery, red hair took the stage with an energy that took the young man's breath away. He watched as she worked the stage as if she'd done this for years, and perhaps, she had.

The young woman's eyes searched the crowd and fell into his, as they had the past week. Neither one of them spoke or smiled; they just stared into each other's eyes as she danced to the music. Every night, for a solid week, this went on. And then the music would end and the dancer would disappear behind that curtain and neither one of them would see each other again until the next night.

Time seemed to stand still when their eyes met and when the music stopped, it was as if they were cruelly ripped back to reality. And so again tonight, when the music stopped, the young man took his eyes away from her's and looked into his half empty beer bottle, already looking forward to the next night.

The young woman sat in front of the vanity table, starring at herself in the mirror. She tried focusing on her long, red hair curling down her shoulder, but flashes of the man with the face of an angel kept clouding her vision. His hair was as golden as the sun, blinding her to his beauty. She tried to shrug the thought of him from her mind, focusing on her eyes shadow, but it only reminded her of the warm, brown eyes she saw every night starring back at her.

"If you don't go talk to him, I will," a voice teasingly called across the room. The young woman looked at the other girl through the mirror, a smile across her face. She watched as the raven-haired girl walked across the room and stood behind her.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Izzy," she said, feeling the blush creep along her cheeks. She bowed her head in slight embarrassment, but the dark, young woman known as Isabelle, Izzy to her friends, wasn't buying it.

"Oh please," she said, rolling her eyes, "You're practically undressing each other with your eyes everynight!"

"What?! We are not," the young woman said incredulously. She thought about it for a second and then started laughing, "Is it really that bad?"

"Yes, but I don't blame you," Izzy smiled, "He's hot! Go get him!"

The young man stood up from his seat, paid the bartender for his drink and turned to walk out of the bar, but was suddenly blocked from his exit by a petit, young red head.

"Hi," she said, feeling the warming of her cheeks, making her blush even harder.

The young man just starred for second, surprised at her sudden appearance, but then smiled down at her blushing cheeks, and responded with, "Hi."

"Every night you come to watch me dance, I'd say I've more than earned a drink, don't you?" she asked, walking around him to sit at the bar.

The young man quirked his eye brow at the young woman's forwardness and decided he liked it… a lot.

"What can I say? I enjoy the beautiful art of dance," he offered, holding two fingers up signaling the bar tender to bring him two beers.

The young woman laughed, accepting her beer with a nod of thanks and turned to he beautiful man whose eyes hadn't left her's.

"What?" she asked, suddenly breathless under his stare.

"You're very beautiful," he said, his eyes nearly drilling a hole into her soul. She willed herself not to blush for the third time this night. She lost.

The young man decidied that the young woman looked even more stunning when she was blushing, it almost made his heart beat out of his chest when her cheeks turned that rosy hue.

"Now, I normally don't make it a habit of buying drinks for total strangers," he said, a small smile dancing at the corners of his mouth. He extended his hand in greeting, "I'm Jonathan Herondale, but everyone calls me Jace."

The young woman took his hand, firmly, and shook it, "I'm Clarissa Morgenstern, but I like my friends to call me Clary."

"Clary," Jace said, rolling her name around in his head, "A beautiful name for a beautiful woman."

Clary laughed, nearly spitting her beer through her nose, "You're quite the charmer, Jace Herondale."

Later that night, Jace walked out of the club a huge smile on his face. He'd had a great conversation with Clary and they'd made plans to meet up with each other after her dance tomorrow night as well.

On his way down the stairs, someone fell into step with him, matching his strides step by step.

"So, what did you think?" Izzy said, a bounciness in her voice that made Jace smile, "Isn't she just so adorable."

"She is beautiful," Jace agreed, "We just talked, Izzy, nothing to get overly excited about."

"Oh, I'm beyond excited, Jace," she squealed, hugging his bicep with her own arm, "I knew you two would hit it off. Am I good or what?!"

Jace rolled his eyes, "Just stick to the mission, Iz, we don't need either one of us screwing this up."

"You're such a stick in the mud," Izzy complained, sticking her tongue out at the golden boy.

"But I'm your favorite stick in the mud," he laughed, kissing the top of her head. Jace smiled, thinking back on the night's events. Having the chance to meet and talk with Clary had been the highlight of his day. He already couldn't wait until tomorrow. He didn't know if he'd be able to sleep or not tonight, but even if his mind granted him peace, he knew that he would see nothing but red hair and emerald green eyes.