"Run, Aline! Hurry!" I could hear my mother's frantic voice screaming at me from upstairs. The Institute, my home, was burning all around me. How could this have happened? Who'd done this to us? I heard a scream and a crash, and then silence mingled with the crackling of the flames.

"Mum?" I yelled at the top of my lungs, trying to run upstairs. My foot went through one of the steps and I bit back a yelp of pain. I tried jerking myself from the hole but it wasn't working. I was stuck. I wiggled around and felt my stele in my back pocket, taking it out and drawing a quick rune on the ground. I lifted my foot up easily. There. I was free. Grabbing hold of the stair rail, I kept running upstairs. The hallway was burning and I couldn't see through the flames that well. Squinting, I called for my mother again, this time in French. I heard nothing. I called for my father. Silence.

There was a hissing noise behind me and I turned quickly, gasping at what seemed to be a demon. I backed up, looking around for a weapon. But it wasn't attacking me. It was talking to me, his horrible, low, hissing voice smooth as poison and twice as deadly.

"Your fault…" it kept saying, "Your fault…" I shook my head, trying to shout over it but my voice wasn't working. I knew it was right. It had stopped walking towards me now and was still talking, but I hadn't stopped backing up. I saw it give me a nasty smile, its fangs dripping with poison and blood. It lunged at me then and I gasped, falling backwards.

Ali woke with a gasp, panting, her forehead covered in sweat. It was happening again, the nightmares. It was the same one over and over again, with different variations at times. She was always in the burning house, but sometimes she'd watch her father die before hearing her mother's screams. Sometimes she'd try to save her cat, Midnight, from being engulfed in the flames. And sometimes the dream would start with that morning, when a mysterious stranger showed up at her front door, asking for her help. But she couldn't help waking with the same feeling every time. Guilt. It stirred in her stomach and made her sick. She was to blame for her parents' deaths, for the burning of her Institute.

The Institute. Ali looked around and blinked for a second. But that's impossible, she thought, it burned to the ground. And so it had. Everything came back to Ali then. I'm not in my Institute, she told herself. I'm in a new, strange place. She fought back the lump that formed in her throat as she thought this, looking at the time to occupy herself. It was one in the morning, and she was wide awake. Lovely. Ali lay back on the bed and stared up at the ceiling, humming the lullaby her mother used to sing to her under her breath.

"Moon river, wider than a mile…

I'm crossing you in style, someday.

Oh dream maker, you heart breaker…

Where ever you're going, I'm going your way."

She sighed restlessly. It wasn't working. Well, as long as she was up, she should go try and get the feel of the Institute. Getting out of bed, she quickly strode across the room to her small bag and pulled out a pair of jeans and a sweater that she'd borrowed from an Enclave member. The Lightwood girl, Isabelle, had promised to take her shopping. Somehow, she didn't look forward to it at all. She'd never really liked shopping in the first place. She flattened down her silvery hair and sighed at how pale her skin was. I suppose I can't help genetics, she thought, and opened her door quietly. Poking her head out into the hallway, she was comforted at how similar this Institute and her Institute looked at night.

Her bare feet padded along on the thickly carpeted floor. There was a sudden hiss in the dark and she gasped as a large gray cat stepped out of the shadows. Ali couldn't help but smile a little. She loved animals. Her mother always called her "the animal whisperer" because of her way with animals. She was always taking in pets and nursing them back to health, then releasing them back into the wild. Crouching down the cat's level, Ali held out her hand.

"Hello, little one," she whispered, "I won't hurt you." The cat looked at her imperiously, then strutted over and bumped his nose against her fingertips, brushing himself up against her hand. Ali sighed with relief and sat down, the cat crawling into her lap. She petted him slowly, hearing his low purr. She managed a small smile, comforted by this sound, however little it was. Ali sat like this for awhile, just petting the cat, when she heard muffled footsteps behind her. Immediately she pushed the cat out of her arms and stood up, twisting around on her ankle. She heard a chuckle.

"It's okay," a boy's voice said, clearly amused. "It's just me." Oh. It was the blond boy, Jace. Ali relaxed, somewhat. He made her uncomfortable.

"What're you doing up?" Jace asked, examining her with amused and curious eyes. Go ahead, Ali, tell him you had a nightmare and that you're sickened with yourself. That'll make you seem like a great Shadowhunter.

"I could ask you the same thing," Ali said, crossing her arms tightly across her chest. Jace was the only person she'd ever met that was taller than her, and she didn't like it at all. He seemed to like this answer, and shrugged.

"I heard noises, and then Church purring and wondered what on Earth he was doing that about. He never purrs," he looked at the cat, then at Ali. "You have a way with animals."

"So I've been told," she said tightly, wondering what he was getting at.

"Well, if you can't sleep, I could always give you a tour. If you like. I've got nothing better to do, and I don't think you do either." He smiled at her. He did have a point. She didn't have anything better to do, and she didn't want to seem like she wasn't up to the challenge of carrying on a conversation with someone as frustrating as he was.

"Okay," she said slowly. "Why not?" Jace turned on his heel and started down the hall, and Ali had no choice but to follow.