Just a maybe idea I'm putting out here: this story is generally new and my "free time" is shortening as the school year goes on, so I'm thinking that the updates will be shorter but maybe more frequent? I don't know how I'm going to manage this all, but please try to bear with me! To all my supporters, you guys are AWESOME beyond anything :) Seriously, what would I do without your encouraging words?

Songs:

Catch Me-Demi Lovato (I don't know why...but this song inspired this chapter? Hmm...I wonder why...)


"…And I swear, she was snoring his name and–"

"No fucking way man! I'm calling BS on that one!"

"Well, what do you think, Jace?"

Jace was busy staring off into space during breakfast, his appetite long gone––and not because of the disturbing story that Sebastian was telling. He was with her a few minutes ago up in his room, watching as the sunlight played on her skin peacefully until she woke up. Then she had snapped at him for whatever reason and stormed off, narrowly evading Warden Lightingale, who did his daily dorm check-up routine at least six times a day.

It wasn't the abruptness of her anger that startled him––he was used to that by now since he had experience in that field––but the words that she had spewed at him: "I can't believe that after all this time, you still don't know!" What was it that he didn't know? She had to be the forty-ish something girl he had brought to his dorm and the fifth serious relationship he had (serious meaning "brought back to his dorm more than once"). That left him somewhat more enabled than most guys in the field of women…right? So what did she mean by "you still don't know"?

And as of now, he was nowhere near as close to decoding her vague outburst as he was the moment she screamed it at him and it frustrated him beyond belief. "What do I think about you being a liar and an insecure creep? I agree on that one––sorry Sebastian."

Sebastian narrowed his eyes and Jace reveled in the look of unadulterated rage with a silver lining of humiliation in his expression while the others roared in laughter.

"Funny, Herondale," Sebastian said calmly, slowly regaining composure. "Though I'm sure you're one to speak seeing as it was your femme fatale that I happen to run into early this morning."

Jace felt his blood run cold but didn't dare say a thing to betray his emotions. So Sebastian saw her of all people this morning, did he? Jace didn't show it, but this small fact unnerved him , especially because she had a tendency to pour her heart out to anyone who bothered to listen. And when it came to Jace, Sebastian was more than willing to listen. To call her his "femme fatale" was very appropriate in this case, indeed.

"Are you sure that she ran into you and not the other way around?" Alec sneered, his chair pushed back as he stood up.

"Boys," Warden Kelly barked from the corner of the dining hall, his hawk-like gaze fixed on their table permanently. "Do we have a problem here?"

Jace fixed his look to a notch above boredom as he shifted it to the Warden's gaze and tossed him a lazy smile. "Not at all, sir. Although, Sebastian seems to be suffering from amnesia seeing as he believes that we actually care about his childish whining."

The Warden didn't even bother suppressing his smirk as he glanced at a beet-red Sebastian. "This true, Verlac?"

Sebastian fixed his murderous glare at Jace––the only thing about him that portrayed any emotion at all––as he replied, "Yes, sir. I also seem to have forgotten how much of a complete tool Jace–"

"Language, Verlac," Warden Kelly growled. "Now go sit your fanny somewhere else before I have to walk over there and make you."

"As if you could," Sebastian scoffed under his breath as he hitched his backpack up higher on his shoulder before turning about face and walking away.

"I wonder what his problem is," Alec snorted before shoveling another spoonful of cereal in his mouth.

"I think I already know," Jace answered as he shook his head in attempt to both physically and mentally clear Sebastian from his mind.


First days of school were almost intimidating for her, it seemed. But now, sitting in the back of a limo instead the back of a yellow bus with her mentor beside her, she felt like a kindergartener about to be kicked to the curb of the cruel reality that was the real world.

"You're nervous," Magnus said softly as he took her hand in his. She glanced at him from her periphery and nodded, knowing that even though she shouldn't, she always considered him her almost-brother. Jonathan, her real-life brother, didn't actually know they were siblings––she was taken at the hospital after she was born so that her mother and brother were convinced she had died after birth. And the bittersweet ironic fact was that he attended Viktor's Academy––the school she was now enrolled in. It all just added up to make one big happy cake didn't it?

"Is it wrong to admit that I am?" she mumbled, her voice lost to her ears over the noise of her pounding heart.

"To me, no," Magnus chuckled. "But to anyone else, yes. You're a top ranking agent for your age class all across these wonderful fifty states, my dear, if you need any reminder. You passed your Standardized Agency Assessment Tests with flying colors and––"

"Just because I passed the SAATs and can do pretty cool stuff doesn't mean I can't get nervous," she argued, earning herself an inquiring eyebrow from Magnus. "I'm just…this is my first out-of-academic range mission. If I screw up…"

"…Which you won't," he chimed in.

She gave him a hard look. "There's no 'oh, tough luck later kid, maybe next time' warning at the end. I could end up dead or worse!"

"There's something worse than death?" Magnus questioned, earning himself another cold look from her. "Okay, I get your point, dear, I really do. But you won't mess up because I know who you are and what you're capable of. And you should, too."

With those comforting words as his final message, the limo crawled to a stop. She glanced up at him with pleading eyes, which caused him to roll his own eyes. "Don't give me that look, agent. It's about time you man up––or woman up, whichever you prefer––and get to your job. Or else I'm going to revoke your license."

That got her attention; as soon as the trunk popped open, she opened her door and tossed Magnus a "goodbye" over her shoulder before running around the back of the limo to claim her things. Hoisting her duffle bag over her shoulder, she looked up to face the grand edifice before her.

Viktor's Academy for Young Men was one of the most prestigious academies in the entire country, its rival being Raziel Academy––her old school. Both schools had legacies that could be traced back to the dawn of time that entitled both to bragging rights; so-and-so became the President while what's-her-face opened up her own business and has held the title of the richest woman in the world for five years running now. But the rivalry wasn't why she dreaded her first assignment; it was the fact that she was the daughter of the Headmaster of Raziel while her target was the son of the Headmaster of Viktor's. It only made sense from there that she would be selected as a legacy to be in charge of the other's downfall, especially when lives could be at stake if no one in her agency took action.

In her defense, the mission was fairly simple––all she had to do was get in, find evidence to confirm the rumors and get out before she would be discovered. So it wasn't like if she failed, there would be serious consequences. Her father made sure her tracks would be covered six feet underground, never to be unearthed. The nerves she had were probably just left over excitement that had yet to leave her body from last night's party that her best friend had thrown her.

Stop it, she told herself. You need to focus on the mission at hand. Closing her eyes, she inhaled the crisp November air and opened her eyes again to watch her breath leave in a wispy cloud before them. "Hi, my name is Christopher Wayland," she rehearsed as she climbed the magnificent white marble steps, a hand on the cold gold railing. "And I hope to God no one will bite my head off."


Jace couldn't contain his boredom during his fifth hour gym class. Warden Kelly was in charge officially, but since the bastard was lazy as ever and Jace was his "teacher's pet", Jace taught the class whatever way he chose to. Today he decided to show the boys how to wrestle and as he watched some of the non-athletic types wriggle on the mats together, he made a mental note to never teach wrestling ever again.

"Verlac," Jace hollered from the other side of the gym. He smirked when the familiar head of dark hair perked up and watched as the head bobbed around until the boy stood before him.

"Herondale," Sebastian sneered as he spat into the bucket beside Jace. "What more could you want from me?"

"Well I already have your soul," he mused. "And your head on my mantel would be a lovely addition, but I need to show Raphael here how to properly get out of a headlock."

"Fantastic," Sebastian scoffed. "So would you rather I grab you from behind standing or lying down?"

Jace made a face. "I'd prefer you don't neglect to use certain words in order to avoid any innuendos. And standing up––just to answer your sick question."

With a final roll of his eyes, Sebastian walked around Jace and snaked his arms under his armpits to interlock them behind his head. "Now Raphael, pay close attention because I'm only going to do this three times to bother Verlac over here."

"Uh, Jace?" Raphael piped up, his hand raised with his finger pointed behind Jace.

"Not now, Raphael," Jace scolded. "I'm about to dem–" With a grunt, he reached behind him, grabbed two handfuls of Sebastian's shirt and squatted his knees before pulling Sebastian off his back and launching him in the air. "–onstrate one of my favorite ways to get a pest off your back."

A "holy shi–" came from behind Jace, which caused him to spin around and freeze in place. Now in front of him was a boy–short, sort of lanky with bright red hair like fire and green eyes like emeralds–that he had never seen before. And judging by the terrified expression on his face, he figured he almost hurt the poor kid on his first day of school.

"Haven't you gotten the memo?" Jace asked gravely. "You're not supposed to stand within ten feet of a god. For your own good and my own as well."

But if he figured intimidation was a good way to leave a first impression, he was disappointed. The boy didn't look unnerved in the slightest, and judging by the look on his face, he wasn't impressed either.

"I don't see a god anywhere," the boy remarked, "but thanks for the memo, I guess."

"So you must be blind then," Jace said cheerily. "Which would explain how you clearly missed seeing me and almost got hit in the face with a projectile subordinate."

"Herondale!" Warden Kelly bellowed as he made his way towards them, stepping over the writhing bodies on the way. "I see we have a new student here. Name?"

Jace scrutinized the boy as he sized up the warden before he spoke. "Christopher Wayland, sir."

"Sir," Warden repeated, a smile on his face. "I like you already, Wayland. I'm Warden Kelly––though, you can call me 'sir'––and I'm the head of the athletics department here at Viktor's Academy. Welcome."

"Thank you, sir," Christopher responded with an impassive look on his face. Jace kept his eyes on him even as the warden left, mixed feelings in his gut telling him something seemed…off. He didn't know what, but something about this boy didn't rub him the right way. And when Christopher shifted his gaze to him––green sizing up gold––Jace promised himself he would find out what before letting the boy get anywhere near him.