Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters they belong to Cassandra Clare;)

City of fallen angels rethought

Clary blinked, her eyes adjusting to the darkness. She stood on a rocky plain, whipped by wind, with nothing to break the force of the gale. Patches of grass grew up between slabs of gray rock. In the far distance bleak, screen-covered karst hills rose, black and iron against the night sky. There were lights up ahead. Clary recognized the bobbing white glare of witch light as the door of the apartment swung shut behind them. There was the sound of a dull explosion. Clary whirled around to see that the door had vanished; there was a charred patch of dirt and grass, still smoldering, where it had been.

Sebastian was staring at it in absolute astonishment.

"What—" she laughed. A dark glee rose in her at the look on his face. She had never seen him shocked like that, his pretenses gone, and his expression naked and horrified.

He swung the crossbow back up, inches from her chest. If he fired it at this distance, the bolt would tear through her heart, killing her instantly.

"What have you done?"

Clary gazed at him with dark triumph.

"That rune. The one you thought was an unfinished Opening rune. It wasn't. It just wasn't anything you'd ever seen before. It was a rune I created."

"A rune for what?"

She remembered putting the stele to the wall, the shape of the rune she had invented on the night when Jace had come to her at Luke's house.

"Destroying the apartment the second someone opened the door. The apartment's gone. You can't use it again. No one can."

"Gone?"

The crossbow shook; Sebastian's lips were twitching, his eyes wild.

"You bitch. You little—"

"Kill me," she said. "Go ahead. And explain it to Jace afterward. I dare you."

He looked at her, his chest heaving up and down, his fingers trembling on the trigger. Slowly he slid his hand away from it. His eyes were small and furious. "There are worse things than dying," he said. "And I will do them all to you, little sister, once you've drunk from the Cup. And you will like it."

She spat at him. He jabbed her hard, agonizingly, in the chest with the tip of the bow.

"Turn around," he snarled, and she did, dizzy with a mixture of terror and triumph as he prodded her down a rocky slope. She was wearing thin slippers, and she felt every pebble and crack in the rocks. As they neared the witch light, Clary saw the

Scene laid out before them.

In front of her, the ground rose to a low hill. Atop the hill, facing north was a massive ancient stone tomb. It reminded her slightly of Stonehenge: there were two narrow standing stones that held up a flat capstone, making the whole assemblage resemble a doorway. In front of the tomb a flat sill stone, like the floor of a stage, stretched across the shale and grass. Grouped before the flat stone was a half-circle of about forty Nehalem, robed in red, carrying witch light torches. Within their half-circle, against the dark ground, blazed a blue-white pentagram.

Atop the flat stone stood Jace. He wore scarlet gear like Sebastian; they had never

Looked so alike. Clary could see the brightness of his hair even from a distance. He was pacing the edge of the flat sill stone, and as they grew closer, Clary driven ahead by Sebastian, she could hear what he was saying.

"… Gratitude for your loyalty, even over these last difficult years, and grateful for your belief in our father, and now in his sons. And his daughter."

A murmur ran around the square. Sebastian shoved Clary forward, and they moved through the shadows, and then climbed up onto the stone behind Jace. Jace saw them and inclined his head before turning back to the crowd; he was smiling.

"You are the ones who will be saved," he said. "A thousand years ago the Angel gave us his blood, to make us special, to make us warriors. But it was not enough. A thousand years have passed, and still we hide in the shadows. We protect mundane we do not love from forces of which they remain ignorant, and an ancient, ossified Law prevents us from revealing ourselves as their saviors. We die in our hundreds, unhanded, unmoored but by our own kind, and without recourse to the Angel who created us." He moved closer to the edge of

The rock platform. The Shadow hunters before it were standing in a half-circle. His hair looked like pale fire.

"Yes. I dare to say it. The Angel who created us will not aid us, and

We are alone. More alone even than the mundanes, for as one of their great scientists once said, they are like children playing with pebbles on the seashore, while all around them the great ocean of truth lies undiscovered. But we know the truth. We are the saviors of this earth, and we should be ruling it."

Jace was a good speaker, Clary thought with a sort of pain at her heart, in the same way that Valentine had been. She and Sebastian were behind him now, facing the plain and the crowd on it; she could feel the stares of the gathered Shadowhunters on both of them.

"Yes. Ruling it." He smiled, a lovely easy smile, full of charm, edged with darkness.

"Raziel is cruel and indifferent to our sufferings. It is time to turn from him. Turn to Lilith, Great Mother, who will give us power without punishment, leadership without the Law. Our birthright is power. It is time to claim it."

He looked sideways with a smile as Sebastian moved forward.

"And now I'll let you hear the rest of it from Jonathan, whose dream this is," said Jace smoothly, and he retreated, letting Sebastian slide easily into his place. He took another step back, and now he was beside Clary, his hand reaching down to twine with hers.

"Good speech," she muttered.

Sebastian was speaking; she ignored him, focusing on Jace.

"Very convincing."

"You think? I was going to start off 'Friends, Romans, evildoers…' but I didn't think

they'd see the humor."

"You think they're evildoers?" He shrugged.

"The Clave would." He looked away from Sebastian, down at her.

"You look beautiful," he said, but his voice was oddly flat.

"What happened?" She was caught off guard.

"What do you mean?" He opened his jacket. Underneath he was wearing a white shirt. It was stained at the side and the sleeve with red. She noticed he was careful to turn away from the crowd as he showed her the blood.

"I feel what he feels," he said.

"Or did you forget? I had to iratze myself without anyone noticing. It felt like someone was slicing my skin with a razor blade."

Clary met his gaze. There was no point lying, was there? There was no going back,

literally or figuratively.

"Sebastian and I had a fight." His eyes searched her face.

"Well," he said, letting his jacket fall closed, "I hope you've

worked it out, whatever it was."

"Jace… ," she began, but he had given his attention to Sebastian now. His profile was cold and clear in the moonlight, like a silhouette cut out of dark paper. In front of them Sebastian, who had set down his crossbow, raised his arms.

"Are you with me?" he cried.

A murmur ran around the square, and Clary tensed. One of the group of Nephilim, an older man, threw his hood back and scowled.

"Your father made us many promises. None were fulfilled. Why should we trust you?"

"Because I will bring you the fulfillment of my promises now. Tonight," Sebastian said, and from his tunic he drew the imitation Mortal Cup. It glowed softly white under the moon.

The murmuring was louder now. Under its cover Jace said,

"I hope this goes smoothly. I feel like I didn't sleep last night at all." He was facing the crowd and the pentagram, a look of keen interest on his face. His face was delicately angular in the witchlight. She could see the scar on his cheek, the hollows at his temples, the lovely shape of his mouth. I won't remember this, he had said. When I'm back—like I was, under his control, I won't remember being myself. And it was true. He had forgotten every detail. Somehow, though she had known it, had seen him forget, the pain of the reality was acute.

Sebastian stepped down off the rock and moved toward the pentagram. At the edge of it he began to chant.

"Abyssum invoco. Lilith invoco. Mater mea, invoco."

He drew a thin dagger from his belt. Tucking the Cup into the curve of his arm, he used the edge of the blade to slice into his palm. Blood welled, black in the moonlight. He slid the knife back into his belt and held his bleeding hand over the Cup, still chanting in Latin.

It was now or never. "Jace," Clary whispered.

"I know this isn't really you. I know there's a part of you that can't be all right with this. Try to remember who you are, Jace Lightwood." His head whipped around, and he looked at her in astonishment.

"What are you talking about?"

"Please try to remember, Jace. I love you. You love me—"

"I do love you, Clary," he said, an edge to his voice.

"But you said you understood. This is it. The culmination of everything we've worked toward." Sebastian flung the contents of the Cup into the center of the pentagram.

"Hic est enim calix sanguinis mei."

"Not we," Clary whispered. "I'm not part of this. Neither are you—"

Jace inhaled sharply. For a moment Clary thought it was because of what she'd said— that maybe, somehow, she was breaking through his shell—but she followed his gaze and saw that a spinning ball of fire had appeared in the center of the pentagram. It was about the size of a baseball, but as she gazed, it grew, elongating and shaping itself, until at last it was the outline of a woman, made all of flames.

"Lilith," Sebastian said in a ringing voice.

"As you called me forth, now I call you. As you gave me life, so I give life to you."

Slowly the flames darkened. She stood before them all now, Lilith, half again the height of an ordinary human, stripped naked with her black hair waterfalling down her back to her ankles. Her body was as gray as ash, fissured with black lines like volcanic lava. She turned her eyes to Sebastian, and they were writhing black snakes.

"My child," she breathed.

Sebastian seemed to glow, like witchlight himself—pale skin, pale hair, and his clothes looked black in the moonlight.

"Mother, I have called you up as you wished of me. Tonight you will not just be my mother but mother to a new race." He indicated the

waiting Shadowhunters, who were motionless, probably with shock. It was one thing to know a Greater Demon was going to be called, another to see one in the flesh.

"The Cup," he said, and held it out to her, its pale white rim stained with his blood. Lilith chuckled. It sounded like massive stones grinding against one another. She took the Cup and, as casually as one might pick an insect off a leaf, tore a gash in her ashy gray wrist with her teeth. Very slowly, sludgy black blood trickled forth, spattering into the Cup, which seemed to change, darkening under her touch, its clear translucence turning to mud.

"As the Mortal Cup has been to the Shadowhunters, both a talisman and

a means of transformation, so shall this Infernal Cup be to you," she said in her charred, windblown voice. She knelt, holding out the Cup to Sebastian.

"Take of my blood and drink."

Sebastian took the Cup from her hands. It had turned black now, a shimmering black like hematite.

"As your army grows, so shall my strength," Lilith hissed. "Soon I will be strong enough to truly return—and we shall share the fire of power, my son."

Sebastian inclined his head.

"We proclaim you Death, my mother, and profess your resurrection."

Lilith laughed, raising her arms. Fire licked up her body, and she launched herself into the air, exploding into a dozen spinning particles of light that faded like the embers of a dying fire. When they were gone completely, Sebastian kicked at the pentagram, breaking its continuity, and raised his head. There was an awful smile on his face.

"Cartwright," he said. "Bring forth the first."

The crowd parted, and a robed man pushed forward, a stumbling woman at his side. A chain bound her to his arm, and long, tangled hair hid her face from view. Clary tensed all over.

"Jace, what is this? What's going on?"

"Nothing," he said, looking ahead absently. "No one's going to be hurt. Just changed. Watch." Cartwright, whose name Clary dimly remembered from her time in Idris, put his hand on his captive's head and forced her to their knees. Then he bent and took hold of her hair, jerking her head up. She looked up at Sebastian, blinking in terror and defiance, her face clearly outlined by the moon.

Clary sucked in her breath.

The woman's hood fell, and a blonde shadow hunter was revealed. No one Clary particularly recognized. Her face a mixture of defiance and hatred stared up at Sebastian. She tried to start to her feet, but Cartwright shoved her back down. Sebastian started toward them, the Cup in his hand.

Clary scrambled forward, but Jace caught her by the arm, pulling her back. She kicked at him, but he'd already swung her up into his arms, his hand over her mouth. Sebastian was speaking to the blonde shadow hunter in a low, hypnotic voice. She shook her head violently, but Cartwright caught her by her long hair and jerked her head back. Clary heard her cry out, a thin sound over the wind.

Clary thought of the night she'd stayed up watching Jace's chest rise and fall, thinking how she could end all this with a single knife blow. But all this hadn't had a face, a voice, a plan. Now that it wore a shadow hunters face, now that Clary knew the plan, it was too late. Sebastian had one hand fisted in the back of her hair, the Cup jammed against her mouth. As he forced the contents down her throat, she retched and coughed, black fluid dripping down her chin. Sebastian yanked the Cup back, but it had done its work. The woman made an awful hacking sound, her body jerking upright. Her eyes bulged, turning as dark as Sebastian's. She slapped her hands over her face, a wail escaping her, and Clary saw in astonishment that the Voyance rune was fading from her hand—fading to pallor—and then it was gone. The woman dropped her hands. Her expression had smoothed and her eyes were blue again. They fastened on Sebastian.

"Release her," Clary's brother said to Cartwright, his gaze on the woman.

"Let her come to me."

Cartwright snapped the chain binding him to Amatis and stepped back, a curious

mixture of apprehension and fascination on his face. The woman remained still a moment, her hands lolling at her sides. Then she stood and walked over to Sebastian. She knelt before him, her hair brushing the dirt.

"Master," she said.

"How may I serve you?"

"Rise," Sebastian said, and the woman rose from the ground gracefully. She seemed to have a new way of moving, all of a sudden. All Shadowhunters were adroit, but she moved now with a silent grace that Clary found oddly chilling. She stood straight in front of Sebastian. For the first time Clary saw that what she had taken for a long white dress was a nightgown, as if she had been awakened and spirited out of bed. What a nightmare, to wake up here, among these hooded figures, in this bitter, abandoned place.

"Come here to me," Sebastian beckoned, and she stepped toward him. She was

a head shorter than him at least, and she craned her head up as he whispered to her. A cold smile split her face. Sebastian raised his hand.

"Would you like to fight Cartwright?" Cartwright dropped the chain he had been holding, his hand going to his weapons belt through the gap in his cloak. He was a young man, with fairish hair, and a wide, squarejawed face.

"But I—"

"Surely some demonstration of her power is in order," said Sebastian.

"Come, Cartwright, she is a woman, and older than you are. Are you afraid?"

Cartwright looked bewildered, but he drew a long dagger from his belt. "Jonathan—" Sebastian's eyes flashed.

"Fight him." Her lips curved.

"I would be delighted to," she said, and sprang. Her speed was astonishing. She leaped into the air and swung her foot forward, knocking the dagger from his grip. Clary watched in astonishment as she darted up his body, driving her knee into his stomach. He staggered back, and she slammed her head into his, spinning

around his body to jerk him hard by the back of his robes, yanking him to the ground. He landed at her feet with a sickening crack, and groaned in pain.

"And that's for dragging me out of my bed in the middle of the night," the blonde shadow hunter said, and wiped the back of her hand across her lip, which was bleeding slightly. A faint murmur of strained laughter went around the crowd.

"And there you see it," said Sebastian.

"Even a Shadowhunter of no particular skill or strength—your pardon, miss—can become stronger, swifter, than their seraphically allied counterparts." He slammed one fist into the opposite palm.

"Power. Real power. Who is ready for it?" There was a moment of hesitation, and then Cartwright stumbled to his feet, one hand curved protectively over his stomach.

"I am," he said, shooting a venomous look at the endarkened shadow hunter, who only smiled. Sebastian held up the Infernal Cup.

"Then, come forward." Cartwright moved toward Sebastian, and as he did, the other Shadow hunters broke formation, surging toward the place where Sebastian stood, forming a ragged line. There must have been atleast 80 lined up ready and willing to give up their free will to become Sebastian's dark army. Clary felt a chill in her bones. Jace had taken his hand from her mouth, but she felt no desire to scream. No one here would help her, and the person standing with his arms around her, prisoning her with his body, wasn't Jace. The way that clothes retained the shape of their owner even if they had not been worn for years, or a pillow kept the outline of the head of the person who had once slept there even if they were long dead, that was all he was. An empty shell she had filled with her wishes and love and dreams. And in doing so she had done the real Jace a terrible wrong. In her quest to save him, she had almost forgotten who she was saving. And she remembered what he had said to her during those few moments when he had been himself. I hate the thought of him being with you. Him. That other me. Jace had known they were two different people—that himself with the soul scraped out wasn't himself at all. He had tried to turn himself over to the Clave, and she hadn't let him. She hadn't listened to what he'd wanted. She had made the choice for him—in a moment of flight and panic, but she had made it—not realizing that her Jace would rather die than be like this, and that she'd been not so much saving his life as damning him to an existence he would despise.

She sagged against him, and Jace, taking her sudden shift as an indicator that she wasn't fighting him anymore, loosened his grip on her. The last of the Shadowhunters was in front of Sebastian, reaching eagerly for the Infernal Cup as he held it out.

"Clary—," Jace began. She never found out what he would have said. There was a cry, and the last Shadowhunter reaching for the Cup staggered back, an arrow in his throat. In disbelief Clary whipped her head around and saw, standing on top of the stone dolmen, Alec, in gear, holding his bow. He grinned in satisfaction and reached back over his shoulder for another arrow. And then, coming from behind him, the rest of them poured out onto the plain. A pack of wolves, running low to the ground, their brindled fur shining in the variegated light. Maia and Jordan were among them, she guessed. Behind them walked familiar Shadowhunters in an unbroken line: Isabelle and Maryse Lightwood, Helen Blackthorn

and Aline Penhallow, and Jocelyn, her red hair visible even at a distance. With them was Simon, the hilt of a silver sword protruding over the curve of his shoulder, and Magnus, hands crackling with blue fire.

Her heart leaped in her chest.

"I'm here!" she called out to them. "I'm here!"

"

Can you see her?" Jocelyn demanded. "Is she there?"

Simon tried to focus on the milling darkness ahead of him, his vampire senses

sharpening at the distinct scent of blood. Different kinds of blood, mixing together—Shadowhunter blood, demon blood, and the bitterness of Sebastian's blood.

"I see her," he said. "Jace has hold of her. He's pulling her behind that line of Shadowhunters there."

"If they're loyal to Jonathan like the Circle was to Valentine, they'll make a wall of

bodies to protect him, and Clary and Jace along with him." Jocelyn was all cold maternal fury, her green eyes burning.

"We're going to have to break through it to get to them."

"What we need to get to is Sebastian," said Isabelle. "Simon, we'll hack a path for you. You get to Sebastian and run him through with Glorious. Once he falls—"

"The others will probably scatter," said Magnus.

"Or, depending on how tied they are to Sebastian, they might die or collapse along with him. We can hope, at least." He craned his head back. "Speaking of hope, did you see that shot Alec got off with his bow? That's

my boyfriend." He beamed and wiggled his fingers; blue sparks shot from them. He shone all over. Only Magnus, Simon thought resignedly, would have access to sequined battle armor. Isabelle uncurled her whip from around her wrist. It shot out in front of her, a lick of golden fire.

"Okay, Simon," she said. "Are you ready?" Simon looked out across the field. There were atleast 90 dark shadow hunters and in his far line of vision he could see Clary. Her green eyes glimmering with hope and longing. He looked at his sword and at Sebastian at Clary's side.

"Yeah I'm ready."

It was like diving into a black ocean at night, an ocean filled with sharks and viciously toothed sea creatures colliding against one another. It was not the first battle Simon had ever been in, but during the Mortal War he had been newly Marked with the Mark of Cain. It hadn't quite begun working yet, though many demons had reeled back upon seeing it. He had never thought he would miss it, but he missed it now, as he tried to shove forward through the tightly packed Shadowhunters, who hacked at him with blades. Isabelle was on one side of him, Magnus on the other, protecting him—protecting Glorious. Isabelle's whip sang out strong and sure, and Magnus's hands spat fire, red and green and blue. Lashes of colored fire struck the dark Nephilim, burning them where they

stood. Other Shadowhunters screamed as Luke's wolves slunk among them, nipping and biting, leaping for their throats.

Sebastian watched as his endarkened shadow hunters charged at his enemies. He could see his mother and the rest of Clary's retched friends charge at the front towards his close circle of protection. He turned toward Jace holding Clary,

"Brother let Clary go I will hold her, I want you to release the demons we are allianced with, I don't want Clary's little friends to think they have the upper hand." At that Jace realesed Clary and turned toward the night sky speaking in the demon language Sebastian had taught him. Clary watched in horror as a sea of demons, sprang at the rear of the battle. She could see her family and the werewolves were holding tight in the battle but this mass of demons was going to slow them down. Quickly with her shadow hunting training she kicked out at Sebastian, stunning him. Her hand went to the knife and steele at his belt. Realizing that she was trying to escape he grabbed for her shoulder, but she was faster. She jumped clear over their circle of safety and ran towards the battle.

" Jace go after her NOW!" Sebastian was infuriated, she was not going to escape to her filthy downworlder friends. Not when her place was at his side. Jace parted through the endarkened protecting Sebastian and ran towards Clary's red hair whipping in and out of the battle.

Clary saw her mother first fighting off a drevak demon, she watched as her blade swiftly cut off its head. She immediately ran into her arms.

"Clary! By the angel I never thought I would see you again."

"Mom there's no time we need to kill Sebastian, but first we have to separate his and Jace's connection. Please tell me you guys have the sword."

" Simon has it, Clary if you stab Jace it will sever their connection. But I don't know if we will be able to hold everyone off we are completely outnumbered."

" Mom you don't have to fight everyone, just get close enough to kill Sebastian and this madness will stop. "Clary scanned the battle field and spotted Simon fighting off an Endarkened Shadow Hunter. She made a bee line straight for him and grabbed the sword. Jace hot on her heels grabbed her shoulder and yanked her around just as she grabbed the hilt of Glorious. He looked at her surprised as she shoved the point straight into his chest.

Yellow light burst from his chest and he fell to his knees. She watched as the yellow light burned out the sword fell to ashes at his feet. She fell to look in his eyes. The gold flecks returned to his eyes. Her Jace's eyes, she moved his gear out of the way and searched for Lilith's crimson mark. All that was left was smooth skin next to his star mark. He looked up at her with wonder and longing.

"Clary you really did it. I don't feel connected to him anymore." He reached out and grabbed her by her shoulders. Isabelle and Alec raced over from the fighting. He looked over at his family gathered here and there fighting. " Sorry babe, as much as I want to kiss you right now we need to kill that evil bastard now!" Clary helped him up and together her and the Lightwoods and her Jace braced themselves against the endarkened that proceeded to run towards them. With the knife she stole from Sebastian, she leaped forward.

Just as she ran towards battle Clary leaped upward. A demon with long skeleton like wings caught at her cloak and dragged her into the air. She heard her mother scream her name, but she knew exactly where the demon was taking her. It steered to the right dropping the knife and steele she had in her belt and desposited her down directly in front of Sebastian on the hill where he was protected by a close knit circle of enadarkened warriors. " You may have separated Jace from me, but did you really think I wanted him this whole time? it is the voice of my beloved that knocketh, saying Open to me, my sister, my love." She stared at him in horror as he shook the knife out of her grip and steered here around until he was behind her holding a knife at her throat.

"Enough surround them now!" As he screamed orders Clary could see Endarkened and demons forming a deadly circle around her fellow shadow hunters and friends. At the front line she could see Jace, her mother, Luke, Simon and the rest of her friends bloodied from battle but thankfully alive. Her mother was breathing hard and looking at her with tears in her eyes, Luke beside her hands still clawed from his transformation. Sebastian walked forward the knife digging into her throat. "Enough. As you can see I have you all surrounded by my Endarkened warriors and demons. This is just a mere quarter of the army I have created unless you all want to be slaughtered here tonight stop fighting and join me."

Isabelle was the first to speak,

"I would rather die than serve you, Valentines son." Sebastian whipped his head back and laughed "I thought you might say that. But I can offer you one last thing. For it is not an offer but a promise. I will let the lot of you live and go about your miserable lives and leave from this field for I have everything I desire." At that all the shadow hunters looked stunned and equally confused. " You see this ceremony was held so that I might raise my mother Lillith and create my Endarkened shadow hunters. Which I have they are created to be more fierce and deadly. They were created so that I Jonathan Christopher Morganstern might led them to destroy the race of demons and rule over mundane and downworlders as we rightly should." He looked over at the faces of his enemies across the field. " And I will do all this with my sister Clarissa Morgenstern at my side. Together we will be the deadliest force this earth has ever seen." Clary laughed, " Jonathan your crazy to think I will ever join you, my family will come for me you can't do this. I will find some way to escape." He leaned closer to her and whispered in her ear, "Not once you drink from the infernal cup." At that he turned her around and brought her to her knees. The last image she saw was her family and jace looking helplessly at her as Sebastian was about to do the unthinkable. Then she heard Jaces voice. " Sebastian stop I will come back to you I will help you again, I will be your brother again just let her go. Please."

Sebastian looked over at him and smiled a wicked grin, one that even Valentine himself might even be proud of, " You fool I never wanted you, I took you cause I knew she would follow and try to save you. And she did exactly what I wanted I played her feelings for you against her. Can't you see it was always her I wanted, and now she will be mine forever." At that he raised the Cup and jammed it against Clary's lips, trying to pry open her mouth. She fought him, gritting her teeth. "Drink," Sebastian said in a vicious whisper, so low she doubted Jace could hear it. "I told you by the end of this night you would do whatever I wanted. Drink." His black eyes darkened, and he dug the Cup in, slicing her bottom lip.

She tasted blood, then something else it tasted like battery acid. She felt the brackish liquid go down her throat. Her throat felt like fire and her head snapped back, the last thing she saw before the blackness claimed her was her mother crying for the last of her children. And then darkness…

Jocelyn fell to her knees just as Jace and Simon surged toward Clary but were blocked by the blades of the Endarkened. Jace wanted to run toward her and grab her and hide her from all of Sebastians madness, but he knew in his heart he was too late. Clarys friends and family watched as her crumpled body started to jerk under her crimson cloak. And then she stood up. Sebastian stood next her searching her eyes as she stood up. She was so short she came up to just under his chin but her height was the last of his worries he was searching her eyes looking to see what his sister had turned into. She stood straight up and he moved the hood of her cloak down to reveal what he had created. Standing in front of him was Clarissa. The infernal cup had slightly changed her he was frightened for a moment thinking maybe her angel blood wouldn't be affected by the demon, but then he looked closer. Her red curls seemed to take a dark auburn tint to them instead of the firey red he was used to seeing. Her green eyes darkened to almost an emerald shade. She smiled up at him and looked directly into his eyes. "Clarissa," he reached over and touched her cheek. " Brother, how may I serve you." At that he smiled and felt a dark joy come over him and across the field Jace felt like he might faint. Clary my Clary what have you done to her. Her family watched in utter despair a loud sound resonated through the field the demons that had been circled around them vanished just as the endarkened shadow hunters turned to run backward. Clarys family surged toward her just as she took Sebastian's hand. She turned to them smiled a dark sinister smile and vanished with the endarkened filing suit. Jace stopped running, "Where did they go. What happened?" Magnus reeled up they must have portaled somewhere to another dimension. That's the only way they could have just vanished in thin air like that." He looked at Jace who looked heartbroken and withdrawn. " We need to get her back we need to go after them!"

" Jace I can try to track her but with demon blood she wont be the same shes like Sebastian now."

" I don't care I will find her and I will bring her back "….

Sebastian and Clary arrived in an apartment much like the one she destroyed. She looked at him puzzled, " Did you really think I wouldn't have a back up?"

He reached towards her cupping her face in both hands, "Little sister I have so many plans for us and it all starts now. We will rule this earth together strong." She looked straight in his eyes her green to his black, "And I will be at your side Jonathan forever…"