CHAPTER TWO.

Clarissa Fray regained her conciousness in a dimly lit cell. Her first thought was of how cliché the whole situation was, what with her being bound by chains to the wall, the only scenery available to her being another cell through iron bars.

Then it hit her, how she had been kidnapped from the safety of her home.

Thinking back, Clary recalled the whole scenario. One moment, she was on the bed, drawing a portrait – of whom, she did not quite know, as the whole head area was left blank save for roughly sketched frame– and the next, a stranger had broken in through her window. A scuffle ensured, a blade was drawn and then knocked out of hand, then somehow the intruder had hit her on the head and that was the last thing she knew.

Lost in her thoughts, Clary didn't notice the figure that had stepped up to her cell on the other side of the iron bars.

"Clarissa."

Her head snapped up, and she glared when she realized it was the same person who had abducted her – black hair, pale skin and all. "What do you want?" she snapped, putting on more bravado than she thought she could manage.

"How straightforward. Well then, I shall indulge you." When he sat down on the ground as if ready for a campfire storytime session, Clary made up her mind that the guy was a nutcase. "I'm a Shadowhunter like you, and your father was my mentor at one point in time."

Clary stilled, but when she said nothing, he continued.

"I'm sorry for the loss of your father," he said, knowing full well that she thought nothing of Valentine. "But fret not, I'm around to carry out his mission. Although I must say, the time spent with your brother Jonathan has... changed my view on certain things, so it might not be exactly how your father wanted it. But no matter – for this, I need your help, Clarissa. Yours, and your peers."

"Valentine was a sad excuse of a father, and an even worse one of a human. I want nothing to do with his or your warped ideals, and neither will my peers help you," she hissed. "They're not even in the country. You could even say we're not even friends anymore." Clary wasn't lying. Things were tense between them all, maybe except for Isabelle and Magnus, but even then, she hadn't seen them in a while.

"I'm aware of that, yes," the man nodded sympathetically. "Though, I'll give them some time, maybe when they get back. But the warlock though... he's the interesting one. I have an associate who's just dying to reunite with him," he chuckled at what Clary presumed to be a twisted joke he was having with himself. "I suppose you should make yourself feel comfortable, since there's no way of knowing how long you might be here. It all depends on how your friends cooperate." He stood. "I'll see you again soon, Clarissa."

Once the man had left, Clary leaned back against the wall with a sigh. As courteous as he seemed to be, she was sure that he was someone who wouldn't hesitate to end a life if he wasn't pleased. From their conversation, she could gather that he was evidently dangerous, having worked with Valentine. Besides that, he also had at least one accomplice, if not more.

Though, the real question was what he was planning. A mixture of Valentine and Jonathan's ideals was bound to be sick and deadly, and the fact that this man had kept himself hidden all the while gave her a bad feeling. It was horrible, being locked up and not being able to do anything, but moping around was useless. With a refreshed sense of purpose, Clary put her head to use. If and when her friends did come for her, she hoped there would be at least something useful she could tell them.

. . .

A sharp rap on the door did little to stir Magnus from his sleep, but a noise cause by kicking down a door did, and suffice to say, the warlock was not pleased. Hair disheveled as he sat up, Magnus watched three Shadowhunters file into his room.

"It's only six in the morning," he glared through half shut eyes.

"Sorry," Jace said, clearly not feeling guilty. "This was the fastest flight we could get."

Magnus sighed, then shifted the thick quilt away before swinging his legs over the edge of the massive bed. Isabelle raised an eyebrow at the blue silk boxers the warlock had on, but said nothing more. Anyone who knew Magnus Bane would understand that it made perfect sense to him to use a quilt to keep warm yet not have any pants on.

"Out," Magnus ordered, half dragging his feet to the bathroom. "I'll be ready in a bit. And do something about my door."

About half an hour later, the warlock stepped out into the street, having donned on a pair of bright red pants and a maroon jacket, make-up and glitter all on, hair spiked and glossy. He looked back at the fixed door – if simply placing the large wooden board against the opening could be called fixed – and raised an eyebrow.

"There's no time to properly fix it unless you do it yourself," Jace said, clearly not sorry about the state of the door. "We need to get Clary. Now."

Oh, so the boy still loved Clary. Now Magnus was interested as to why they broke up. But speaking of break ups... He stole a quick glance at Alec Lightwood, who had not said a word since they met. The boy's eyes were trained away from Magnus, and that elicited a smirk from the warlock. It would seem that he didn't have as much luck as Magnus when it came to putting everything behind him – if there had been anything to put behind to begin with.

"You're right. Only I can do it," Magnus waved his hand and the door attached itself back to the hinges, splintered bits piecing back together. "Now," he clapped his hands together, "let's go."

It took over an hour for the four to reach the building which Magnus had pinpointed – the map was still on the floor in his apartment, and right before they had left, he had checked to see that the iron shavings had not moved. They had stopped at a cafe diagonally opposite to the building which, to their surprise, had not been glamoured. It was just a plain, albeit large warehourse block, though there were no openings for them to see what was inside.

"So, Jace," Magnus started, "fastest, deadliest Shadowhunter of our time. What do you propose we do to get your girlfriend back?"

"She's not my girlfriend anymore," Jace brushed it off, though Magnus could see the emotion flicker through his eyes for the briefest of seconds. "And I say, we go in head on from different sides. If Clary's in there, we kill all of them. Otherwise, take one alive."

"Fine by me," Isabelle stood. Clarissa was a friend to her, and whatever happened between her and Jace, that fact didn't change.

"Usually I don't like working in the morning but oh well," Magnus sighed as they walked out.

"Where's her vampire friend?" Alec asked, that being the first time he had spoken since his arrival.

Magnus shrugged. "According to Jocelyn, they had no one to turn to, so I'm presuming that he's... not within the radar. I was their only hope."

"And I thought that you didn't want anything to do with Shadowhunters anymore," Isabelle teased.

"Clary's different," was all the warlock said. Unbeknownst to him, as he was walking ahead, Alec and Jace both tensed slightly. The blond one even stopped for a bit. Isabelle merely raised an eyebrow.

As they moved on, the two male Shadowhunters kept their eyes on the tall warlock, both minds furiously trying to compute what he had meant, but put their emotional issues aside when they reached the warehouse.

A minute or so later, the Shadowhunters burst into the building, only to see it dark and bare save for a lone figure sitting in the centre, cross-legged on the ground. With a single look, it was evident that the figure was a male, with a head of dark hair and a slender build. When he failed to show any outward signs of acknowledging their presence, the Shadowhunters edged closer.

Then, he looked up, and Jace, who was approaching from the front, took in the dark eyes and pale skin which had been shown. He was an adult, but young, maybe in his early 20's. Then the man stood, and smiled.

"It's a pleasure to meet you all," he spoke, his voice smooth. "Though I must say, I wasn't quite expecting the three of you. You were supposed to be in Paris," he shook his head.

"Then who were you expecting?" Jace asked. "There's no greater honour than having Jace Lightwood personally come for you, if I'm being honest."

The man chuckled softly. "I suppose it's true, but I guess I was merely hoping to have to deal with one of you first. More precisely, your pet warlock."

"We don't have a pet warlock," Alec frowned, his voice betraying nothing.

"Ah, but you see, even if he isn't yours to command, Magnus Bane has proved to be quite a hindrance, what with him helping you lot. On his own free will on top of that, as you tell me. I was hoping that he would come. I suppose I was wrong to think that Clarissa Fray was that important to him." His voice held a tinge of disappointment.

"Ouch, I'm offended by that." Magnus stepped in from a large hole in the back wall. "I've lived for centuries and seen people come and go, but it doesn't mean I don't hold any value in them."

"Magnus Bane," he seemed genuinely happy. "I'm delighted."

"Cut the crap," Jace growled. "Where's Clary?"

"Oh, how rude of me. Yes, Clary. Clarissa Fray. Your friend is safe. She was unconscious for a bit at the start, and I was beginning to worry, but she's fine now."

"Who are you and what do you want?" Isabelle glared, her blade poised to strike.

"Ah. Another mistake of mine. Very well— my name is Corvus Ravenlore, Shadowhunter and one time apprentice to the late Valentine Morgenstern."


AUTHOR'S NOTE.

And so this brings the second chapter to a close.

Herdcat, thank you so much for your comment. I'm delighted to know that you find this story promising, and I hope I won't disappoint.

Also, to any who may have concerns that I might drop this fic, please don't worry. I always finish my fics, however long they may take.

This chapter is a little shorter than the first, and I apologize, but I like to cut off my chapters at appropriate points rather than at a set word count.