Better Summary:
2010, all Nephilim and Downworlders have been wiped out. No one knows what has caused it, & the only thing mundanes notice is that all over the world, people have been dying because of an unseen force. They think it's the beginning of the next World War. They're wrong. Demons are on the loose, no one stopping them on their killing-spree.
But there is one Nephilim left. His name is Jace Wayland. He resides in New York and lives like a normal mundane, though sometimes he covers himself in glamour when he doesn't want to be bothered. He kills each demon he comes across, but that's not much help when he's the only Shadowhunter on the planet.
Mundanes find all these deaths as the sign of the apocalypse, the end of the world. They're pretty much correct. Some religious leaders are drifting toward one theory that's pretty interesting though. The return of the Nephilim, the hybrid race created by God. Some believe it's the start of a nuclear war.
But, when a random girl sees through Jace's glamour, his Nephilim-less world is thrown into chaos. It's a sign, Jace thinks, the beginning of the return of the Nephilim.
A/N: In my story, Jace has never met Clary or Simon or Luke. Valentine was captured and killed in 2009, when he tried to take over the Clave.
Also, Jocelyn was killed by Valentine right after she gave birth to Clary, so Clary lives with her adoptive parents.
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Cenophobia: Fear of new things.
"Clary, up, up, up! Big day today," my adoptive mom, Karen shouted from outside my bedroom door. I groaned and sat up, wiping sleep out of my eyes. Stretching my arms over my head, I walked into my bathroom and switched on the water faucet. Stripping down, I let the hot water melt my nerves about my first day of Junior year at St. Xaviers.
After my shower I dried off, pulling on the St. Xavier's uniform: navy blue plaid skirt, white button down shirt with a navy blue tie, red blazer with blue trim, the school emblem in the right corner, red knee high socks, and black ballet flats. I brushed out my thick red curls before clipping back my bangs with a silver hairclip. I slung my black bag over my shoulder and made my way downstairs, into the kitchen.
Karen and Brandon, my adoptive parents, were already there. Karen was mixing her usual cup of coffee while Brandon read the newspaper. The front page headline blared out at me. Babysitter, 3 Children, Found Dead in Brooklyn. I gasped, almost dropping my banana.
"Brooklyn?" I asked out loud. "Did we know them?" My dad shook his head mournfully, running a hand through his graying hair.
"It's terrible," my mom said, clicking her tongue. Right on time, the doorbell rang out.
"That must be Simon," I told them. I kissed them both on the cheek. They wished me luck and I went to answer the door. Simon stood there in his school uniform, his dark hair disheveled and his shirt un-tucked. "You better tuck in your shirt if you don't want Snavely to put you on the list," I told him, mocking the way Principle Snavely threatened kids about "the list". Simon chuckled and we headed out the door. I hailed a taxi and Simon and I settled in, giving the driver directions.
"So, nervous?" Simon asked casually, finishing my banana.
"I don't get nervous," I told him. He smirked at that. "Why, are you nervous?"
"Me? Nah, I've got a good feeling about this school year," he replied. I didn't have a reply for that because, honestly, I thought the exact opposite. It's not that I wouldn't have much friends, which I knew I wouldn't. Simon was enough. And anyways, I hardly had any "girlfriends". All girls I tried to make friends with would backstab me or use me to get to Simon. We rode the rest of the way to school in silence.
Entering the double doors of St. Xavier's, we approached the usual long table filled with class schedules, locker numbers, and school maps. I grabbed a schedule and retrieved my locker key from one of the kids on the Welcome Committee. Simon followed me to my locker. Inside, there were two sets of books. One for me, and one for the person who would share the locker with me.
"Hey, Fray, I better find my locker," Simon explained to me. I frowned.
"You're right. See you at lunch?" I asked him. He nodded and gave me one last smile before being swallowed by the crowd of teenagers. I turned back to my locker, checking my schedule and dumping the right books in my bag. I felt a slight tap on my shoulder and turned to find myself facing a boy who looked to be about my age. I tried not to gasp as I took in his features. He had golden blond hair that was perfectly tousled, golden smoldering eyes and was perfectly built, like a sculpture.
"Yes?" I asked the boy, trying to control my nerves.
"Is this locker 450?" he asked, his tone and expression blank.
"Yeah, it is," I replied.
"Guess I'm your locker mate this year," the boy said, brushing past me to get to his books.
"And you are?" I asked him.
"Jace Wayland, try not to drool on my new shoes," he answered, stuffing books into his bag. I gasped, crossing my arms.
"Don't worry about it," I told him venomously. He zipped his bag shut and slung it over his shoulder. He turned to me with an amused smile.
"What's your name?"
"Clary Fray."
"Nice to meet you Clary Fray," Jace said, offering a hand. I took it loosely. Suddenly, Jace lurched forward, bumping into me. His face was an expression of shock, but he instantly twisted it into a mask of irritation. He turned to face the Senior boy behind him. I recognized him. Frank Lumbert. He was the total King of the Hallways. He got all the girls he wanted with his charm and good looks, and he was the captain of the Lacrosse team. No one dared to rival him. I moved up a bit to stand by Jace. His eyebrow was raised and he smiled arrogantly at Frank. Frank glared back. "Well, I think you owe me an apology," Jace said in a surprisingly bored voice.
"I don't owe you anything, dumbass," Frank sneered at him, stepping closer threateningly.
"Dumbass?" Jace repeated. "That's a big word for you, isn't it?" Jace asked.
"Who do you think you are, Junior?" Frank said, rage in his tone. His hands curled into fists but Jace just smirked at him, crossing his arms.
"I think I'm Jace Wayland, the hottest Junior in this prep school, easily the hottest Junior on the planet. Who do you think you are?" Jace asked him, examining his fingernails. Clary watched him in utter shock.
"Watch yourself hotshot," Frank sneered, giving Jace another threatening glare before turning away and walking off.
"You're obviously new here," I told Jace as I turned back to my locker and sorted through my books.
"What makes you say that?" Jace asked, leaning against the locker next to mine. I mean, ours.
"People never talk to Frank Lambert like that," I reply. "Well, unless they're retarded."
"Who, that toolbag? I can take him," Jace retorted hotly. I shut the locker and started to walk off. Jace fell into step beside me. "What class do you have first?" he asked. I examined my schedule.
"History," I told him.
"Perfect." Jace's smile was confident and cocky. A various amount of girls stared as he walked by. Guess I can't blame them. The bell rings just as we enter the classroom. I don't see Simon, so I'm guessing he doesn't have this class. Jace and I take two seats in the back corner.
"Good morning class," a short lady said from the front of the room. Her crazy curly brown hair suggested she was new. "I'm Ms. Borgof, your history teacher." I pulled out my history textbook. Jace did the same. I glanced at him from the corner of my eye. He still had the overconfident smile on his face, but he looked a little loss, unsure of what to do next.
"What school did you come from?" I asked him as Ms. Borgof drew on the chalkboard.
"Homeschooled." He replied simply. Oh, I mouthed.
"That explains it," I said quietly.
"What does it explain?"
"You're expression. You look lost," I told him with a smile. He contorted his face into an expression of disbelief, the look of lost in his eyes gone.
"I'm Jace Wayland. I don't get lost," he responded irritably.
"Oh, okay you don't get lost," I assured him. "You just become very confused and don't know where to go or what to do."
"Pay attention to the teacher, Clary," Jace said spitefully. I rolled my eyes and looked to the front of the classroom. Class ended eventually and Jace and I exited the classroom.
"Do you plan on following me the whole day?" I asked Jace as we walked down the hall to our next class, English. Jace snorted.
"Oh, I get it," he started, "you don't want to be seen with me, do you?" I blinked and laughed.
"I'm not like that," I told him.
"Truth is, I don't have any friends here," Jace replied. "Yet," he added with a smirk, winking at a passing girl. I rolled my eyes.
"I'm sure any of those girls would die to be your tour guide," I said as we entered the classroom. The teacher wasn't in the room yet.
"So quick to get rid of me?" Jace asked, a hand on his chest, faking shock and hurt. "If you want, I guess…" Jace said, starting to get up. I grabbed his arm quickly.
"No, you can stay," I spit out hastily. "One new friend won't hurt me." Jace gave a small smile before sitting back down. I smiled, my heart fluttering in my chest.
"So, this is English class huh?" he asked, laying his hands on top of the wood desk. "Exciting." Right at that moment, the three girls in front of us turned around. I recognized them. Regina Hewit, Morgan Smith, and Reese Vuntaug. Supposedly the elite of the Junior class. I was friends with them once. And then, of course, they became too full of themselves and cast me out of their square, which is now a triangle. Reese, always in the middle, ever since we were in kindergarten, gave Jace a bright smile. He raised an eyebrow and smiled back. She leaned over on the back of her chair.
"Hey Clare," she addressed me, still looking at Jace. "Why don't you introduce us to your new friend?" she asked, a glint in her eyes. I let out a sharp laugh.
"I'm sure you're capable of introducing yourself," I told her, narrowing my eyes. Now she turned to me, her mouth a thin line.
"Jeeze, Clary, take a chill pill," she said to me.
"Chill pill?" I repeated, incredulous. "Who says that Reese?"
"You know, you're still the stubborn brat we left you as," Morgan sneered.
"And you're still the shallow bitches I used to be friends with," I said, the rage of being out casted spilling into my voice. "But with fatter hips & thighs, you know?" Morgan blanched at that. Reese ignored that and turned back to Jace, who was looking at me with a bit of surprise, but also respect, as if he was impressed.
"I'm Reese," Reese told him, smiling. Jace tore his eyes away from mine.
"I'm Jace," he replied.
"You're new here, huh?" she inquired. Jace just nodded. I tapped my fingernails on the desk and exhaled loudly. "Duh," I said under my breath. I could see Jace's lips turn up in the corner. "Well, tell me if you need a tour guide," Reese told him, a hidden meaning beneath her voice.
"Sure thing," Jace responded. He didn't seem quite interested though. Reese and the two other girls turned back around reluctantly. I kept my head down, looking at my desk as my fingernails tapped out a bland rhythm. I could feel Jace's eyes on me. "You get jealous quickly," he pointed out loftily.
"I do not!" I protested.
"It's okay, I get that a lot," he said, waving a hand.
"Get what a lot?"
"Girls going gaga over me," Jace pointed out, as if I should have known.
"I am not going 'gaga' over you," I told him, my hand slapping the desk. Where the heck was the teacher?
"Not yet, at least," Jace countered plainly. I gasped.
"You don't even know me," I objected.
"Not yet, but I'd love to," he said with a laugh, a bit of sarcasm in his voice.
"I've got a boyfriend," I blurted out without thinking, trying to mask my surprise at what I just said.
"Oh yeah?"
"Yeah."
Jace muttered something under his breath that sounded like, "Bet he's not as gorgeous as me." I sighed, exasperated.
"You're unbelievable."
"That's part of what makes girls go gaga over me."
Well, he's got that right.
A/N: Hope you guys liked it! Review, review, review (: