Back again.

Jace sighed heavily as he inhaled the too-familiar, overly sweet scent that hung heavily and permanently inside the ifrit den. He hated this trip, the trip he made daily just to survive. But he needed it. For Clary, for Alec, for Izzy. For everyone, he needed to live, even if what he needed to do so was killing him anyway.

The scaly-skinned ifrit behind the sales counter looked up, his eyes widening slightly in recognition and pity. He pulled a small package out from underneath the counter, sliding it across the scratched and mutilated wood to Jace. The white cloth was warm beneath Jace's hand, as it always was. Jace nodded once, slipping the small package into his jacket pocket, careful to not let any of the dangerous yet strangely beautiful contents spill out. As quickly as he could, he walked out of the small, hole-in-the-wall building, taking a deep, refreshing breath of the clear early morning New York air. He made his way up the deserted street, back to the Institute.

He walked up the stone steps and pushed the doors open just wide enough to slip through, closing them as quietly as he could behind him. He didn't bother with the ancient, creaky elevator, instead stalking silently up the staircase to his bedroom. Sighing softly, he shut the door behind him with a soft click. Jace walked to the bathroom and closed that door behind him as well, locking it.

He leaned over the counter and looked at his reflection in the mirror. His hair had begun to pale, becoming silver rather than gold. His eyes, too, had become silvery, and his skin seemed to get paler with each passing day. His cheeks seemed gaunt; his bones had become more prominent in his face and hands. He hated this, he hated being so dependent on this drug, but even he knew that there was no cure. The only person to have survived had been saved by Jace's heavenly fire. And now that it was gone…

Jace sighed and pulled a glass from the cabinet beneath the sink, filling it with water and pouring the silver powder from the packet into it. He swirled the water until it was dissolved, then downed the mixture, gagging slightly at the burned sugar taste of it. He put the glass back under the sink. He went back into his room and flopped onto the bed, throwing the cloth that had contained the powder into the fireplace as I passed. The drug made the fire flare briefly blue.

Jace closed his eyes and welcomed the darkness of sleep.

The demon. The blue-skinned bastard that Jace hadn't been able to kill. It paced in front of Jace, who was tied with electrum wire to an iron chair. Blood trickled down his wrists, warm and sticky on his curled fingers. The demon smirked cruelly and flicked its stinger-tipped tail behind it.

"Well, well, little Shadowhunter. I wonder… I've heard that your pain tolerance is higher than a normal human. There are so many things I could do… but what to choose?"

Jace snarled wordlessly, unable to talk through the nasty tasting, tough leather strap secured tightly over his mouth. The demon smirked wider then, it's emotionless eyes cold and cruel.

"Ah, I know! I can use that lovely idea Yanluo shared with me. When was it again… somewhere around 1920? I don't remember; human time goes so fast. I've heard the effects are quite lovely. Do you know of which I speak, Shadowhunter? Do you know what happens when yin fen is injected into one of your kind repeatedly?"

When Jace, glaring coldly at the demon and trying not to show the fear pulsing through his veins, didn't answer, the demon chuckled.

"No, I suppose you wouldn't. After all, not many of you get addicted to such a nasty demon drug. But, lucky for you, you're about to get a bit of first-hand experience."

The demon's tail whipped toward him, lightning fast. The stinger buried itself in Jace's arm and he screamed as he felt the demon drug burst through his body. Over and over again, the stinger stabbed into Jace's flesh, the demon cackling wildly the entire time. Jace's body felt like it was burning, melting, the pain was agonizing. He screamed… and screamed… and screamed…

Jace was pulled from the dream by the harsh impact of his body slamming against the floor. His shirt and hair was pasted to his skin with sweat, the blankets halfway pulled off the bed and tightly tangled, due to his thrashing. He was panting hard, his heart racing. The memory of that, of the reason he was so dependent now on the drug, had haunted his sleep since it had happened almost a month ago. Two days as the demon's prisoner, and the yin fen had completely taken over his body. Two days and his life span had been cut down to four more years, at most.

Jace put his head down, leaning his elbows on his knees. He hadn't told anyone of his addiction yet, but he knew he would have to eventually. Still, he didn't want them thinking they needed to treat him differently just because he had that… condition. Even so, he had seen the changes the drug was bringing and knew that they wouldn't go unnoticed for very much longer. None of his friends were stupid, and knew him well enough to notice when something like this was going on. Eventually, someone would get worried, and they would fine out, and they would end up panicking on his behalf.

Jace knew that he wouldn't say a word until absolutely necessary. Everybody was so happy in the peace after the war, and he didn't want to ruin it just because of some stupid drug addiction.