Jace releases my hand and we both turn back to face Seelie. I've got a sinking feeling in my gut like we're eight again and just got called out by our third grade teacher, Sister Hodge, at Saint Xavier's. And just like when we were kids, caught blue handed dying the school's breakfast oatmeal a vibrant shade of cornflower blue, Jace takes a step in front of me. Of course I know what he's doing. He's trying to shield me and it reminds me why I love the guy, despite all the incessant aggravation thar comes with him.
"Get outta here," he quickly whispers at me before he directs his full attention to Seelie.
As if. No way in hell I'm leaving him alone in a scrape. He should know better but he's clearly not thinking about me anymore. He's in full charm mode, a blinding white smile on his undaunted face.
"Excuse me, fair lady," he speaks in a voice both friendly and flirtatious. "I'm bowing out of today's frolic."
Seelie lifts one immaculately groomed eyebrow and one equally immaculately manicured hand lands lightly on her hip. "And why is that?" she asks in a soft yet imperious voice.
You can honestly hear a pin drop. I want to do something but I know Seelie won't take kindly to anything I have to say. I suppose I haven't kowtowed enough to her. I can tell she doesn't like me and that normally doesn't bother me cause the feeling is mutual. I know I'm only invited to her festivities because of Jace. We're like polar opposites except for the same unfortunate shade of red hair. Although it clearly does not detract from her model perfect looks whereas I'm quite sure any other color would suit me better but my mom refuses to let me change it.
"Stakes are just a little too high on this one, darling," Jace chuckles, exuding a relaxed nonchalance but I can tell he's not so laissez faire.
I can feel the tension emanating from his shoulders and want to at least give his hand a squeeze to let him know I'm there, I've got his back, but I've got a feeling that wouldn't help. Probably just set Seelie off seeing me in the periphery.
The air between them seems to vibrate.
"What ever are you talking of?" Seelie finally speaks. "What stakes? It's all just fun and games and you've always been such a good sport about my recreational activities."
"I apologize," Jace appears duly abashed, "Not purposely trying to be obtuse with my language. I suppose the lines in this game are drawn just a little too far for my taste, but that's just me, of course."
"But Jace, darling, I'm counting on you," Seelie says almost imploringly, which translates to a marginally less haughty tone. "How about this," she continues. "If you are convincingly affectionate during the public display, I will modify your private hour terms. Does that suit you?"
"So, does that mean I will not be required to give and receive a mouth sucking induced mark where the sun doesn't usually shine?" Jace asks in a calmly modulated tone.
"As long as the pda is sufficient, then you will not be required to spend a private hour alone with your paired companion," Seelie nods with a beneficent smile. It would be quite lovely if her eyes were not so predatory.
"And who will decide if the pda is sufficient?" Jace asks agreeably.
"I will," Seelie answers indignantly. "And I can assure you I will be perfectly reasonable in my assessment. Do you doubt me?"
"Oh, not at all," Jace shakes his head remorsefully. "It's only that this is a fairly subjective call and your opinion of sufficient pda may be markedly different from my own."
Seelie's green eyes flash. "This is getting a little tedious, darling, but since you seem to demand minute instructions ... constant contact, at least ten open mouthed tongue kisses, each at least a minute long, and some heavy petting should do."
Jace stands still for a long moment but finally nods his agreement. His playfulness returns with a grand bow. "As always, my pleasure to serve you, fair lady."
"I suppose these special arrangements only apply to Jace," Jonathan remarks good naturedly.
Seelie's head whips around to Jonathan and I swear the daggers are out. I almost laugh but manage to stifle it with just a few silent hiccups.
"That's right," Seelie answers with a snap. "All the other participants will adhere to the original rules."
"Of course," Jonathan smiles. "Oh, Jace," he calls out, oddly jovial.
Jace shifts his head, regarding Jonathan quizzically. I've never actually seen the two of them interact, which only now strikes me as a little odd. They're the most popular and best-looking boys at school. You'd think there would be some male bonding over their commonalities but, no. Well, it's a big school. Over five hundred kids in our junior class alone and Jonathan's a year older anyway.
"That's not strictly true, what you were saying, that this particular game crossed the line, just for you?" Jonathan questions affably.
Jace doesn't answer but the slight movement of his head telegraphs his unspoken confusion.
"Well, it just seemed like you were dragging your little friend out with you," Jonathan adds. "What's her name again?"
"Her name is Clary," Seelie answers. She looks annoyed just saying my name. I'm not surprised she knows it though, if only to include on her shit list.
"Very nice," Jonathan gives Seelie a grateful look and scribbles a name onto a purple post it before he drops it into the fish bowl set on the blue green tiled mosaic table between them.
Seelie looks momentarily surprised but then her expression changes. She seems to grow taller, her face glows with genuine delight. She's preening.
"Well, that does it for me," Jonathan rubs his hands together. "How about you, Seelie? Are you done?"
Seelie collects a small pile of green slips and with an elegant sweep of her hands, drops them into the same fishbowl. "Yes, I am."
"What was that?" Jace speaks in a strange voice.
"What was what?" Jonathan responds innocently.
"That last post-it. That wasn'tâ" Jace stops.
I'm relieved he's stopped. I'm not sure what's going on. Why Jonathan wanted to know my name. Why Seelie looks as pleased as punch. It's all bizarre but I know for sure I don't like the way Jace sounds. Dangerous. I've only ever heard him sound like that once before, months ago and it preceded an awful fight when some drunk college goon wouldn't take his hands off me. We'd snuck out to hang at some midnight beach party. I was actually grateful for Jace's aggression at first since I was honestly scared when the idiot wouldn't back off even after I'd slapped him hard across the face. But I felt horrible when the cops showed up and ended up hauling Jace away in handcuffs. So yeah, he's gotta stay on his best behavior unless he wants a permanent black mark on his record and end up in juvie or something worse.
But why is this happening now? Why does Jace sound like that when he asked Jonathan about that post-it? â and then logic slams into my stupid head.
"You can't put her name in the bowl," Jace enunciates slowly. "The rules. She's gotta be in your sightline."
I feel numb, staring straight into Jace's back. He's got a nice back. Almost as nice as his front. It's really quite impressive.
Jonathan scowls mockingly and suddenly it makes me feel a little sick.
"She's right behind you," Jonathan smirks while Seelie studies Jace.
She's enjoying this, there's no doubt. She's like some kind of soul sucking vampire, feeding off people. I would like to run up to her and scratch her eyes out but I'm much more concerned with watching Jace. He stiffens all over and slowly turns his head.
Exasperation is clear in his narrowed golden eyes and lips thinned in a grimace.
"What are you doing here?" Jace hisses at me.
Guilt rises up in me and it's galling. I'm about to go on autopilot and make some snide response explaining my theories on existential metaphysics when he straightens his head and turns back to Seelie. I'm wondering if he honestly thinks I'll just disappear behind him.
"Well, that's it for me," Jace shrugs at Seelie. "I guess we're leaving and don't worry we're not expecting an invitation back anytime soon."
Seelie widens her eyes, her expression blazing. I'm pretty sure if she could shoot laser beams from her eyes, we'd both be burnt toast. "Do you really think that's all you'd suffer for ... disappointing me?" she says in such a polite lyrical voice I'm convinced she really meant to offer us tea.
Jace sighs unconcernedly, "Ostracism, bullying, possibly a beatdown, maybe a slow and torturous death? I think I'll get over it."
"Why don't you let Clary decide if she wants to leave or not," Jonathan interjects and I'm overwhelmed by his black gaze.
I can't believe I entertained a twinge of nausea looking at him just a minute ago. There's a dark, stupid sexy promise in his onyx eyes and the fullness of his lips. There's an outright challenge the way he's looking down at me but at the same time an exhilarating invitation as well.
I try to speak but something's blocking my throat.
"C'mon Clary," Jace grabs my hand heading toward the gate.
"I think I'll stay," I manage to cough out.
Jace looks at me incredulously. "Are you serious?" he mutters at me. "I can't bail you out once you're in this shit show." He looks a little upset and I try to reassure him with a smile.
"It's just a game," I tell him. "Yolo?"