SIN CITY - PART 3
There were already two people on the training floor, going at each other, scarcely holding back (if at all), making her insides churn. Before Clary got here she'd never even thrown a punch, let alone slapped anyone, and now, like most, she was expected to put her whole weight behind it.
She watched them spar, and when they were done, slowly made her way up the line of steps to take over the punching bag as Alec had done earlier.
Only, and unlike everyone else, Clary didn't take off her shirt and wasn't wearing any of the usual gear. You had to have it to wear it, and in the past she'd never been into the gym or dance (aside from clubbing) and that was an entirely different sport.
Clary concentrated on the center, on the way she'd closed her fists and how to kick the bag. She repeated this a few times, unsure if she was doing it correctly despite the voice in her head that had replayed all she'd learnt over the last week and a half they'd actually begun to show her.
Hodge took pity on her, still sweaty from his fight with one of the other Shadowhunters, helpfully gifting her with pointers and better ways in which to turn into a punch and to make sure she kept her ground. He was one of the few, aside from the core three (or two, depending on the day) that cared to help. She guessed, as he'd said, because Clary reminded him of her mother.
Both Lightwoods were in the office when Alec came in and stood before their desk. Maryse was sitting at it while Robert stood by the window looking more lenient than Alec's mother, which was usually the case.
"Well," Maryse steepled her fingers before her, observing Alec as if mentally skimming through the list of punishments. "Tell us how this mission turned out to be almost lethal for our best asset and hope to locate the Cup, and one of our best soldiers."
"Isabelle brought it to my attention that the Fairchild girl needed her clothes or new ones, because the garments Isabelle was lending her didn't work to her – and our – best benefit. I was training at the time, so when I went to shower before setting out, I was under the impression Isabelle was coming with us. She was going to, indeed, but by the time I returned, she was engaged otherwise.
"It was up to me to pick another partner, but I decided to go alone, trusting that the cloaking rune would be enough for such a short mission to be a success.
"As it turned out upon our arrival to the Fairchilds' apartment, I was wrong. In order to guarantee Fairchild's safety, I opened the runic portal from her apartment to the Institute and thus sent her directly into the safe zone. After that, I made my escape with minor injuries that have been treated later at the Institute.
"At the apartment, I've encountered two Circle hunters and two demons in their dog form. How they managed to know we were there – which I don't doubt they have – I do not know. My assumption would be that Valentine could have been attempting to track her down using her mother's blood, or a mixture of both.
"As I said before, Isabelle bears no fault for this failure, for it was my decision to not take a partner. The fault is solely mine."
Alec glimpsed a ghost of a smile on his father's face, but it was habitually furtive on his part. It did feel a bit comforting, however Alec meant every word of what he said. The fault was his and his alone.
Maryse contemplated, regarding her son for a long moment of silence. Her husband had every right to hold the judgement equally, but he never spoke before her verdicts. All he ever tried was to smoothen their aftereffects after they had been delivered.
"Isabelle has admitted her lack of proper consideration for this mission," she said. "And I agree with her assessment. When she decided to not accompany you, it was her duty to assign another soldier in her stead. Is that not the correct and safe protocol?" She turned to Robert and was satisfied as he had to nod.
Alec understood she wasn't wrong at this, but the whole matter was up for debating if brought to an actual court. And eventually, it would have been between Isabelle and Alec to take the blame. Alec came here to take it, and they both understood it. Though Isabelle would still be standing here after Alec, even if for mere reprimand – he knew it, as well.
"Is it your intention to take the blame for it?" Robert asked.
"It is, for I feel it's fair."
He nodded and looked at Maryse. "Then so it is. Given it ended with no lethal outcome and all injuries have been treatable, you will walk with a reprimand and a lesson learned, and your mission in Vegas still stands."
"Under the new alarming circumstances and evidence that the Fairchild girl is being tracked," Maryse put in, "we shall have a briefing later tonight with you and Isabelle to work on the best safety solutions. As of right now, you're dismissed."
"Thank you." Alec bowed and left.
Clary had spent a good twenty minutes on the floor with Hodge doing hand to hand combat when she asked him if they could tend to some weapons. Various ones so that she could get the feel of them. He asked her where she wanted to start and she shrugged. He observed her for a second, smirked, and then returned from the weapons stand with throwing stars.
Clary looked at them, then up to him, eyebrows rising. "You're kidding me, right?"
"It's a weapon."
"I know that—"
"But?"
How did she explain that she felt silly and didn't really know the first thing about what to do with them. She knew one threw them, she'd seen it in hundreds of ninja movies, but now that she actually had one in her hand she felt entirely awkward and unsure of what to do with it. "I thought we'd start with something bigger, like the stick—"
"You mean a pole," he corrected.
"Or a sword."
"Seraph blade." He was smiling slightly, amused at her gracelessness. "We'll start small and work our way up."
She glanced down at the steel star she was holding, wondering if it was made of the same stuff that Isabelle's whip was and if it would morph into some deadly hammer-type thing once she threw it. He grabbed a hold of her shoulders, turned her to face the wall and a wooden podium with ridges in it she assumed was created by swords, arrows and whatever else people used for practice. He steered her toward a spot he speculated was far enough and then gestured for her to have at it.
Clary rolled the star around in her hand, getting a feel of it, of the weight, and then threw it – one after the other – none of them hitting the wooden bar.
They'd hit the mirror, the floor, and skidded to wedge themselves beneath a mat.
She glanced at him, saw him shrug and gesture for her to continue, and then he turned on his heels to leave her to it. She heaved a small sigh and went to retrieve them.
Alec didn't feel like returning to his room yet – and face the bag he had to repack. He imagined his sister would be immediately called to the Head Office and face her own talk, so his room would be abandoned. And while that was not a bad thing, given he still could use some extra time for rest and meditation, he didn't feel the pull.
Instead, he wandered through the corridors, strolled through the control room, and then remembered about his hunger. He could use a snack. In fact, he was half a day late with his lunch, and the earlier exhaustion made him hungrier.
As he was passing the training hall, a shade of auburn caught his eye. He stopped, peering through the glass door with amazement as the Fairchild girl toyed with weapons she wasn't supposed to wield without supervision.
He waited a moment before storming in, and observed her throw and miss again and again, how her posture was off, her arm was all wrong, and the way she threw them was totally out-of-the-roof hopeless. When she ran out of ammunition and went to pick them up all over the place, he walked in.
"It's not a toy, you know. You'll hurt yourself, so better stop before you do."
"So, you like her," Isabelle smirked at Jace as she put Alec's best suit jacket in a garment bag, hanging it over the closet door.
He gave her a puzzled look that made her wonder if all males shared the same cluelessness today.
"Clary. You like her." It wasn't a question.
Jace cleared his throat awkwardly. "Sure. I mean she's nice. Ho– … Pretty. Okay to look at."
"Mhmm," Isabelle drawled knowingly, lips still curved in a smirk. It was rare that Jace would hold back his enthusiasm for a girl with her. He never judged Izzy for her 'adventures' and she provided the same for him. A safe space to share and talk about these things that tended to make the third party of their trio highly uncomfortable.
The fact he seemed to be holding back now spoke volumes to her. It was more than just a fling. At least in his mind.
"Think she likes you too?"
He scoffed, assuming his usual cocky expression of a man who was highly attractive and well aware of it. "Why wouldn't she? I'm the best-looking Shadowhunter there ever was."
"And so humble," Isabelle remarked sarcastically.
They shared another amused look just as a knock sounded on the door.
"Isabelle? You in here?"
It was Maria, her parents' personal assistant. Izzy opened the door to face her and she shrank back a little, looking apologetic. "They want to see you."
Isabelle sighed and nodded, resigned to her fate, and left Jace behind.
Clary'd dropped to all fours to free up the stars that had literally gone in every direction and wedged themselves into every single space that could accommodate it.
If they hadn't been attacked today and she wasn't nervous about going to Vegas and possibly getting cornered by the Circle people again – this would be funny.
She hadn't been scrambling around long when the eldest Lightwood appeared, face pinched in its usual manner and without the temporary whiteness contributed by his poisoning. A good thing, she supposed, since he was healthy.
"Until a second ago, there was no one else here…" She gestured to the glass that separated the training room from the rest of the area. Hodge was standing on the opposite side. "And that picks up the slack. Besides, I thought that, if I'm going with you two tomorrow, I want to at least know how to use some of this stuff if I need to step in and help."
She climbed to her feet and moved to stand where she'd been directed before.
"You might want to take like twelve steps back."
What came out of her mouth was such nonsense that struck him as ridiculous, but he didn't feel like laughing.
"No, you might want to put those down where you took them. You can't learn to fight overnight. There's no rune to make you. Stop wasting time and do something that actually can help: go draw something, stimulate your memory."
Wow, if he was trying to shame her, he was doing a damn good job of it.
Only her head wouldn't allow it, that inner voice that was only just beginning to taste independence and hadn't wanted to go from living under one parent's roof (who she couldn't even find) to under the thumb of a bunch of sanctimonious half-breeds.
He was lucky he'd saved her today, or one of these stars would have ended up in his shoe.
"I didn't take them. Hodge gave them to me to use." She threw one of the stars as a means of being defiant, aiming at the wooden post but missing as she had done the first time. The second time it hit the side and ricocheted off into the floor. "Glad to see you're doing better."
Alec heaved an annoyed sigh, folding his arms to squelch the scorching need to punch something (or someone), and leaned back against the wall. She still insisted on continuing her worthless attempts and failing. There was going to be no miracle, and it was going to take eternity to make her understand that.
An eternity they didn't have.
"Don't you realize you're merely wasting time with this?" he asked when she missed another time. "They won't hit the targets by magic or your wish alone. It takes months of practice. You don't have months, we're leaving tomorrow. If you really want to be useful – why not do as you're being asked?"
Of course she realized that what she was doing was futile, Clary could see it every time one of those damn stars missed the post and went sailing into another hidey hole.
She had to start somewhere.
"I thought the mission tomorrow had nothing to do with the Cup or Valentine?"
She paused for a minute, wondering if maybe they'd been lying to her, if they had, in fact, figured something out, not just about the Cup but her mother, as well, and were keeping it from her.
"Not directly," Alec replied, "but we can't rule out his hand in anything we have to investigate around the States. So if you would actually put some efforts into stirring your memory with drawing or whatever there is that works for you, it would help."
When he said it like that, it made more sense to her and sounded half-sensible. Clary wouldn't pick anything up in twenty-four hours—not on the physical side.
Isabelle stepped into her parents' office two minutes later. There was no sign of Alec, so she assumed he'd been dismissed and fled. A wise decision she intended to replicate as soon as possible.
Her mother was seated behind her desk, looking formidable as always, and father stood behind her with one hand resting on the back of her chair. Even though he was the most lenient of the two, Isabelle didn't seek out his gaze or make attempts at gaining his sympathy.
"You got lucky today," Maryse said as Isabelle came to a halt in front of her desk. "Alec could have been seriously hurt. The Fairchild girl could have been taken. Pure luck nothing worse happened."
Just a manner of speech, because Isabelle knew neither of them believed in something as common as luck.
"Luck had nothing to do with it. Alec's skills and quick thinking was what got them out safely."
"Yes, and he got injured in the process."
Isabelle hated that they kept pointing that out. Even if she had come, or someone else had taken her place, there would be no guarantees he and Clary would have come out unharmed. But that didn't seem to matter, and Izzy knew pointing it out would do no good.
"What were you doing while your brother was fighting for his life?"
Isabelle could tell from her tone of voice her mother didn't expect it to have been anything important. She often expected the worst. Probably because Isabelle occasionally went out of her way to show her mother that side of her.
"I was helping with forensic reports to be sent to The Clave," Isabelle stated honestly, relieved that Natalie could back her up on this if it was needed.
Maryse arched an eyebrow. "That couldn't have waited?"
Isabelle inhaled sharply, trying to keep her rising temper in check. "Yes," she said, struggling not to grit her teeth together. "In hindsight, it could have waited."
Maryse tsked and shared a brief look with Robert. "We expect more from you, Isabelle. You're not a child any longer and you need to start showing some responsibility. Do you understand?"
Izzy's fists clenched behind her back. "Yes, Ma'am."
"No more of these 'mistakes' or there will be serious repercussions." Maryse held her daughter's gaze just long enough to make certain Isabelle acknowledged her warning. "Dismissed."
Alec sighed, seeing she wasn't done making a fool out of herself, and stepped toward her, taking her by the wrist she was drawing back to throw another one that would miss the target by a mile.
The contact was surprising and she'd briefly considered resisting, unsure if he was about to manually remove the weapons from her hand and make more of a fool out of her than she did herself.
Thankfully, he didn't.
"You might want to start with darts," he remarked, nudging her into a better posture with another hand on her waist, aligning her against his own body as he stood behind. "Your wrist is stiff. You'll never hit anything with a hand that's like a boiled noodle, either. It should be the golden middle, you should feel it for yourself. Feel it fly and hit the target before it leaves your fingers. Feel its weight and texture and how it should cut through the air. Learning to do this is a meditation, and to succeed with any kind of weapons, you need to study your own body first. You need to be aware of your every cell, of your energy, of how it flows. And shuriken's not the best of starters."
She stiffened, attempting to read his position and hyper-aware of the hand on her waist, although, really, she shouldn't be, there was nothing invasive about it or the tone he was using to explain, and yet, all of it was unwittingly electrifying.
He pulled her wrist, moving her arm back and forth at first, to finally imitate the way her throw should be.
"Don't put too much force into it – you'll miss. Find the middle, the balance."
He let go of her and walked back toward the door. Before she could conjure up the why and figure out the reasoning he'd decided to actually give into her stubbornness, he was on his way out.
Clary followed him with her eyes, sucked in an unnecessary breath and focused on the wood post. She shifted the hand in the motion he'd shown her, over and over, and then let go. Steel sailed past it, as did the next one, and the next. Finding that golden middle wasn't as easy as he'd made it sound, and after a few more attempts she'd decided that ninja stars or shurikens weren't for her.
Isabelle didn't linger, striding out of the office and towards her room where she hoped to shake off this newly risen anger. A regrettable but normal consequence after spending time with her mother. All in all, it could have gone worse. At least they hadn't taken her off tomorrow's mission. Probably because no one else was available.
Inside her room, Isabelle slipped out of her high-heeled boots and leather trousers, unearthing her workout clothes from her closet because even if she had already trained for the day, there was only so much silent meditation she could endure. She needed to punch something.
Isabelle bandaged her hands as she walked the short distance from her room to the training area, intending to take her frustrations out on one of the punching bags. So far this day had sucked, and it didn't seem to get any better.
Alec cast a glance back at her from the door; she was trying to put his words to use, but failing. It was pathetic, all right, but also rather puzzling to him as of why she was persisting when she clearly had no talent for it.
He watched her collect them from the floor again, and read defeat in her movements. She seemed done.
"It wasn't you who picked that, was it," he said, approaching the weapons stand, and peered at her with a meek interest. His point was proven, and with that, irritation abated. "What would you pick?"
Clary had intended to call Hodge over, to thank him for the stars and to possibly try something else, only Alec had beat him to the punch.
Again, she was surprised.
She shook her head though, extending the stars toward him to take. It took her a moment, and then she gestured to the staves. "The polearm looks pretty coo— handy," she amended. "Are you any good with them? Or should I rather be asking what you're not good at?"
His lips twitched in amusement mixed with disdain. He pointed at a long pole with blades on both ends. "That's a polearm." He pointed at a spear-like weapon hanging above it. "As well as that. A staff is a pole with no blades on it. That would be better to start with than anything that cuts. I'm decent with them, but not what I'd call good. That's why we all have weapons of choice – something we can be more than good with."
Good thing he pointed them out since Clary'd believed that polearm and staff were the same thing. She hadn't realized that it was named differently simply because it had a blade.
So much to learn and almost no time.
He pulled one of the training poles from the stand, put it in her hand and led her toward the punching bag attached to the floor at its base.
"Try it here. And mind that the bag sways, so it can kick you down with inertia. It provides better training."
She took the offered pole, testing its weight as she'd done with the star, trying to gauge if she could get it to move as she'd seen in all those karate movies she used to watch with Simon. Not that they were her speed, but he seemed to enjoy them.
The movement at the door drew his attention. It was Jace. He gave a curt nod of greeting but Alec sensed he wasn't pleased to see him in the same room with his target.
Clary smiled slightly, grateful for the bits of help Alec was extending her. "I'll practice my hawk eye," she joked lamely. To prove it, she gave the bag a thwack with the stick and carefully watched it sway. Only he didn't stick around to watch her and a small part of her was disappointed even as Jace arrived.
At least for a second.
Alec backed away and headed for the door once again, this time intending to walk out with no looking back. Isabelle almost bumped into him as he opened the door. She narrowly avoided colliding with him, bracing one hand at his side so she could move past. He looked a little more tired than usual to her, but Isabelle doubted he had just gone for another round of training considering Clair's advice to take it easy.
"You decided to pick a weapon, Clary?" Jace asked, approaching her.
"Sort of," Clary supplied, fixing Jace with an embarrassed smile. She wasn't up to explaining what she was doing for a second time and having it deemed laughable. "Lucky you missed my hand at the ninja stars."
"The what?" he asked, appearing baffled.
Clary glanced behind her, saw if they were anywhere on the shelf that she could see, and when she couldn't decide to save the explanation. Another time.
She gave the bag another hit, following it up with a second that she thought was a pretty cool one-two combination and made Jace grin.
That wasn't a good sign.
Isabelle watched Jace and Clary at the punching bag. She had to admit Fray looked a lot more comfortable out of the stilettos. Couldn't blame her. Isabelle hadn't really felt her feet since she was fourteen.
"You okay?" Isabelle asked her brother, assuming he understood she was asking about his meeting with their parents.
A momentary frown of confusion swept through his face. "Yes, I'm fine." He cast a short look at the pair next to the punching bag through the glass wall, and then it dawned on him. He turned to Izzy with a shrewd squint. "Was it bad?"
Isabelle shrugged. "Not really. Just the usual 'we expect more from you, Isabelle'," she mimicked their mother's cold voice, refastening the bandage on one hand. "You?"
He hemmed, amused, and shook his head. "I had to recite it all from beginning to end and find myself guilty on all accounts, which I actually stand by. And then they… well, she agreed with me. We have a briefing later about Vegas and the safety measures."
He looked at the couple training with the pole once again, feeling a bit melancholic at Jace's obvious enjoyment. A stark contrast to what he oozed before Alec went away leaving them alone. Alec had barely ever been present whenever Jace was wooing his newest contests, but he couldn't remember any hints of animosity or territorial behavior his parabatai was showing more and more during these two weeks she had been stuck with them.
Deep down, it stung. Alec tried to ignore it and pull the needle out, but it was still there, digging deeper.
They may have been reckless in their thinking but the fault was equally Isabelle's, in her book. Alec would never admit that, though. He was used to taking the heat for her whenever he could. Always the protective big brother.
"Can't wait," Isabelle murmured in response to the announcement of the briefing, following his gaze to where Jace was helping Clary pound one of the bags.
"Your stance is wrong," Jace stated.
Clary frowned and glanced down at her feet as if she expected to see what he was referring to.
He chuckled, walked up behind her in much the same fashion Alec had a minute ago, minus the care for personal space as one arm slipped around her waist and pulled her against his chest.
She swallowed, heat travelling to her cheeks, palms becoming sweaty once his hands found her own and closed around them, practically engulfing them, as he showed her where best to hit on the bag (and subsequent enemy) and how hard and which pressure points to acquaint herself with.
A lot of useful stuff, if the heat of his body pressed to her back wasn't so distracting.
After a while, he stepped back and observed her from the sidelines while she laid pretend waste to the punching bag, trying to mimic and put everything he'd shown her into action. Only, unlike with her effort with the stars, this felt more satisfying and as if she were doing something positive.
Probably because the weapon she was using had less chance of missing its target.
"Are you okay with going on the mission tomorrow?" he asked.
She fixed him with a brief look of curiosity and then nodded. "As okay as I'll ever be. Why?"
"You're green."
She gave the bag another thwack and straightened up slightly.
"A novice."
"I know what you mean, Jace."
"I should be going with you. With all of you."
She could agree there, that was usually their shtick, and she imagined they'd feel better about it. "I agree," she replied, seeing his chest puff out slightly and his lips twitch into a smirk.
He'd gone from surly to jaunty in half a second flat and then back to somber.
She scrutinized him for a further moment and then turned back to the bag, trying to apply more force to each hit, having forgotten Alec's warning about the swinging bag and its vengeance and paid for it. Thankfully, she righted herself before she could land on her ass or worse – her face. Jace laughed and took the opportunity to lumber up behind her again.
Once she managed to find a rhythm with the bag and the vigorous music she was making, he stepped back to observe, watching what she assumed was her ass mostly, before eventually concentrating on his family. She had no idea what he was thinking or what they were talking about in the gym's entryway, their heads bent together but, as always, they looked solemn.
The smiles were rare.
Not that being demon hunters since birth gave them much leeway for happiness.
She struck the bag a few more times, working the session until her arms started to feel achy and heavy and each attach appeared to be getting slower and clumsier.
Since she arrived at the institute, Clary'd worked out more than she ever had in her life.
She relaxed her stance, braced a hand against the swinging back and then moved to return the training pole back to its original position in the weapons area.
"You're done?" Jace asked once she returned.
"I guess."
"I'll show you a few key holds and how to break free of them."
He barely gave her time to consider before taking a hold of her, his attention solely fixed on her, explaining the pitfalls of an armlock and the weak spots and what to avoid.
"What did he say to you?" Isabelle asked Alec in a low voice, assuming he'd tell her if Jace had given him another earful about the Fairchild girl.
Alec tore his eyes from them to give Izzy a nonchalant look that was half a mask. "Nothing. He spoke to her, and I left them to it. It's what he wants, isn't it."
He touched a hand to her shoulder in a mute encouragement, and started away toward the cafeteria. It was going to be a takeout and some alone time in his room with packing.
There had been a time when they were children when Isabelle had envied Alec and Jace for their close relationship, and despite them never truly excluding her, she had felt as if she was standing on the outside. But that envy had long since passed and now it simply hurt her to see whenever the two had problems. Like now.
She added that emotion to her repertoire as she made her way over to one of the available punching bags, using it to fuel her motivation to get in a thorough workout. And she did. Combination after combination of punches and kicks were executed, the world around her falling away as if she was in a trance. A different kind of meditation she desperately needed before tonight's briefing.
Jace didn't take it easy on Clary, and before long they were rolling around on the floor together (more like her flailing) and he'd directed her legs across his face and showed her how to squeeze his head between her thighs and what to do with his arm.
When they broke apart, he appeared thoroughly satisfied while she wondered if maybe he'd dislocated her arm or if she'd even learnt anything that was going to stick. She doubted it, and more importantly, she doubted she would be able to make provision for any of it.
How was she going to be able to fall into a roll, snap her legs up over her head and grab her opponent like an upside down koala? He'd attempted to get her to do that twice. Neither had been successful.
"When you guys get back from your mission we'll pick up where we left off," he stated conversationally, appearing chipper for no apparent reason.
"Which is where?" she asked, swiping at her arms and knees, both of which throbbing from the unfamiliar abuse. She needed a deep tissue massage and a possible cry.
"With you on your back."
He was joking, of course, but Clary gave his arm an able punch, anyway. He didn't even try to block it. Maybe because he hadn't expected it. He grinned and averted his attention to Isabelle, admiring her powerful deliveries with the same kind of awe she'd bestowed Alec earlier.
"Let's eat," he announced, steering Clary toward the entrance with an eager shove. "Izzy!" he called before they left, raising his voice to be heard above the repeated sound of her connecting fists with the bag. "Hungry?"
Isabelle took hold of the punching bag, stilling its swaying, a little out of breath and sweat running down her forehead and back of her neck.
"Grab me something," she told him. "Need to shower first."
And she did. She wouldn't be caught dead in the cafeteria looking like this. The two of them left and Isabelle undid the bandages around her hands, flexing her fingers and testing her sore knuckles before following them outside.
She headed for her room where she undressed and went into the bathroom to wash.
Alec was exiting the cafeteria with his takeout container and a cup of tea when Jace and Clary arrived.
"Join us?" Jace offered, nodding toward the tables.
Alec shook his head. "Got to pack a bag and rest before the briefing."
"Okay," Jace grinned and gave Alec a friendly smack in the shoulder. He led her in while Alec walked around them into the corridor, heading for his room.
Sucking in a deep breath, Alec observed the bag and the clothes still lying on the bed, then forced himself to eat first. He took his e-book from the nightstand and settled in the chair, the container sitting next to him on the coffee table.
Considering the attack at the apartment, it sort of surprised Clary that, as a unit, they weren't more concerned with one another. Alec had been poisoned and he was on his feet again. Had it been Simon, she'd have been breathing down his neck.
She guessed this was just another day in the life for them.
Sadly.
Clary grabbed a tray, claimed a plate of pasta and an apple and sat down at one of the tables. A majority of the tables were filled. The whole set up was kind of like high school.
Jace joined her with a tray for himself and another for Isabelle. He sat across from her, set the other down next to him and immediately began to tuck in.
"Is everything okay with Alec?"
"What do you mean?" he asked after a cursory beat of silence, his mouth still full, eyes glinted with interest.
"I mean, is he okay?"
He frowned and she could see that he had no idea what she was referring to, an expression that would have been picked up by anyone who understood an emotional scale. "He's fine."
Clary nodded with less certainty and stabbed a noodle, dismissing the conversation while they ate.
Isabelle showered quickly, more rapidly than she liked, forgoing her usual rituals of pampering and primping since she had people waiting for her and her stomach was rumbling with hunger.
She found Jace and Clary in the cafeteria ten minutes later. Jace had already devoured his meal and appeared to have just returned from a dessert hunt when Isabelle joined them, his tray laden with pudding cups and cookies. Alec would disapprove. Her brother was nowhere in sight, however. He must have chosen to eat in solitude today.
Isabelle flashed the two a smile and sat down at their table, pulling her own tray of pasta closer. "How do you like your training so far, Clary?"
"It's… hard," Clary stated honestly. Jace scooped another bout of pudding into his mouth and smirked. "It's always been hard, I never—this wasn't what I used to do. The closest I got to it was a self-defense class when I became a junior."
Clary shrugged lightly and pushed what remained of her pasta around her plate.
"Do Shadowhunters ever branch out to be anything else? Or is this it?"
Jace scoffed and Clary could that he thought the question was ridiculous. "What else would we want to be? What else could be better than this?"
She hadn't experienced the –this- he was talking about in its full able glory but what she did was pretty intense. She couldn't imagine living life on a dial like that all the time. Maybe the sense of purpose made up for that? Everyone wanted to be a hero.
Isabelle rolled her eyes at Jace who clearly didn't sense Clary's dismay and uncertainty about this whole situation.
"We're not all warriors," Isabelle explained since it seemed he had no intention to. "Most of us start training from an early age, but not everyone decide to become warriors. We can choose to be homemakers taking care of the children – future warriors – or serve The Clave in other ways. There are cooks, medics, weapon makers, historians, teachers, and so on. Though after the Uprising we lost quite a few warriors, so additions to our current ranks are always encouraged."
Clary smiled, thankful for Isabelle's transparency on their history and the few things that weren't clearly indicated in their books. They were so tightly wound, secretive and afraid of letting mundanes (and other outsiders) in on their history that it was all ambiguous. You really knew nothing unless they decided to share.
"Although our intellect always longs for clarity and certainty, our nature often finds uncertainty fascinating," Jace added, recounting the quote as though he were reading directly from the source and outwardly explaining Clary's reasoning for the line of conversation.
She hadn't expected that kind of awareness from him, especially since he appeared to have chosen to overlook what she'd been trying to discuss with him about Alec.
He winked, pushed his dessert and tray together, and rose to his feet. "Take care of this for me, will you, Iz?"
He left before she could answer, heading for what Clary assumed was the control room.
"Is he always like that?"
Isabelle followed Jace with her gaze as she shoveled some pasta into her mouth, a slight smile playing on the corner of her lips. "Arrogant, flirty, sarcastic, and defensive? That's our Jace." On the outside, anyway. The part of him he rarely allowed anyone other than Izzy and Alec to see was quite different. "He becomes more humble when you smack him around on the training mat, but… only for a minute or so."
Clary laughed softly, doubting there would be a time where she would even reach that kind of opportunity. They literally had years of combat and everything else under their belt. Not that she thought she'd be around that long.
Once the Mortal Cup thing was dealt with, Clary found her mother and Valentine was just gone – that would be it. She'd be left to go back to her life and attend Brooklyn Art Academy.
Isabelle grinned, taking a sip of her water. "What do you think of him?"
"Jace?" Clary asked dumbly, breaking her line of meditative thinking, confirming she'd heard the correct thing and slightly embarrassed her head had spaced for a second. "He's okay."
"Just okay?" Isabelle pressed, trying to gauge her reaction, wondering if she felt the same attraction to him as he clearly did for her. Most women did where Jace was involved. But maybe she wasn't used to such brashness.
A small smile twitched at the corner of Clary's mouth. This conversation reminded her of many she'd had over the years with various friends in like. Clary guessed that didn't change. "Well, maybe more than okay. But just a smidgen. He did save me."
"Mhmm. A knight in not so shiny armor," Isabelle agreed, silent a few moments so she could get another bite in before continuing. "Do you date a lot? What are the boys like where you're from?"
Oddly phrased considering they were still in New York, but Isabelle assumed Clary knew what she meant.
Isabelle walked among humans enough (even if it was unseen) you'd think she'd have a fair idea on that particular subject, Clary thought.
"From what I know, most boys can be quite juvenile, especially at our age – assuming we're the same age. They're also forward, awkward and horny. I don't know, I—I haven't really dove into the subject matter as of late as I've been focused on my art. What about you? Do you date?"
Isabelle supposed mundane boys weren't so different from Shadowhunters, except her kind tended to hide their urges and emotions better than the humans.
Izzy squinted, shifting a little in her chair as she attempted to find the right description for her situation. "I don't so much 'date' as I have… encounters with the opposite sex." She leaned in over the table, lowering her voice despite the sly gleam in her eyes, "It's wildly frowned upon."
"The dating or the encounters?" Clary asked and leaned forward to accommodate the fact that Izzy was privately sharing something with her.
"Sex," Isabelle clarified. "When it's not with your one, true mate, anyway. Many of our kind see it as a disturbance to our energy, our bodies. Like alcohol or caffeine. As Shadowhunters we want to stay as pure as possible for our angelic heritage."
"You've never been on a date? Have you had a boyfriend? Do Shadowhunters even have such… mundane labels?"
Isabelle leaned back a little, considering her questions. "Depends on what you mean by boyfriend? I've been with the same person several times, and we are friendly and can enjoy spending time together in other situations as well. But not to the point where we interfere in each other's lives. I suppose the right description would be 'casual'?"
"A boyfriend is usually someone who is there for you, whose company you enjoy, who can make you laugh and also who you have sex with – if, if that's what you want." In comparison, Clary felt ludicrous trying to explain it when their views seemed so unconventional. "How do you know who your one true mate is? Do you have to do some kind of ritual? Are you allowed to date outside of well—" She gestured around to indicate the inside of the Institute and its people. Isabelle was offering her information and she was grasping with both hands.
"Then no, I have never had a boyfriend."
In fact, Clary's descriptions (sans the sex) sounded a lot like Isabelle's relationship with Alec and Jace. Which would explain why she'd never felt she needed more than sex from anyone else.
"You fall in love, I suppose. Get married. There are no guarantees it will last, but usually, it does."
Divorces were rare in their community. Not because spouses always got along, but because their stubborn nature and loyalty often ran deeper than personal desires.
"We're allowed to fall in love with whomever we want, but there might be consequences depending on the situation. Interbreeding between the races is not permitted."
There didn't sound like much of a difference to their way of finding love than there was in Clary's world—her ex-world. Except for the rising divorce rate.
"What kind of consequences?" Isabelle had her now, and Clary was finding it hard to just let the topic slide.
"From the few stories I've heard of Shadowhunters who have fallen in love with mundanes, they can either choose to split from the mundane or stay with them, have their runes removed, and live as a mundane."
The ultimate sacrifice which explained one of the reasons most Shadowhunters didn't feel like engaging in the lives of mundanes beyond protecting them from demons.
Clary hadn't thought that they could remove the runes. They looked like tattoos and since they were magic Clary assumed that they would be perfect fixtures. That gave a bit of a relief since the one on her neck was still something she was growing accustomed to and unsure she liked.
But did that mean that the demon venom would take over her body again? Did that even pertain to her or was it just a consequential thing that happened to certain individuals?
"Has Jace had many girlfriends?" she asked. "Alec?"
Isabelle grinned at her next question, pushed her plate aside and had another sip of her water. "That's for them to answer. So you and Simon have never… got it on?"
"No, no, no," Clary answered, disturbed by the imagery, chuckling softly. "He's like my brother."
"Does he know that?" Isabelle asked, because despite her limited time in the presence of Simon Lewis even Izzy had noticed how he looked at Clary. Like she was the sun and moon and all the stars.
"It never came up," Clary offered with the slightest of frown. Nor was she sure she wanted it to. She'd never thought about him like that.
Clary wanted to ask her why she'd brought up the Simon thing but she wasn't ready to tackle that can of worms. She really wasn't ready. Not on top of what she was already dealing with in regards to her mom and the fact that she was a possible Shadowhunter herself – well, not possible – she was.
She'd have died otherwise due to that demon bite.
At least that was what she'd been told by Jace.
Isabelle shrugged, deciding it wasn't important unless it was something she wanted to talk about. "Alec and I will receive some more information about the mission this evening. If there is anything new and important for you to know, we can stop by your room later?"
She got to her feet and gathered her tray along with Jace's, heading over to the clearing-station where she disposed of the food scraps and sorted the plates and cutlery to be washed.
Clary watched her clear her tray and their plates and waited a beat before doing the same.
When Alec was done with fixing what Izzy had tried to pack, he felt even more like resting. If not for that briefing later, he would have grabbed those extra hours of sleep and not even felt guilty for using that time in favor of laziness instead of training.
But if sleep was out of his immediate list of options, he settled for meditation. He sat back in his chair, putting his feet on the corner of his bed, and closed his eyes, focusing within him to calm his mind.
They might have to equip Clary with some more runes, as well, depending on how the Heads chose to deal with cloaking her from Valentine and his men, but Isabelle decided not to bring that up unless it was necessary. Clary hadn't reacted all that happily the first time around, and Izzy doubted additional runes would be very welcome.
"You managed to get some clothes from home, right?"
"Yeah, Alec… made sure I got everything I needed." She didn't bother to mention that she'd been ready to go and that it was the extra three minutes he gave her that kind of screwed them over. "I'll wash these—" she said, glancing down at her attire she was sure was speckled with dirt and blood. "Before I give them back."
Isabelle waved a hand, unconcerned with the state of the clothes she'd borrowed. "Whenever you have time. There's no hurry. I have plenty. Just make sure you have everything packed tonight, because if I know my parents they will demand we leave at first light tomorrow."
"How long do you think we'll be there?" Clary asked, setting aside the tray on top where the kitchen staff could take care of it when they were ready.
She headed toward the exit, assuming Isabelle would follow, and that they could talk while walking.
"Depends. Unless we get exceptionally lucky and gain all the information we need at once, I suspect it will be a few days at the least." Isabelle sauntered behind her out of the cafeteria, heading in the direction of the wing where most of the bedrooms were located. She still had packing to do. "You nervous?"
"After what happened today?" Clary nodded. "Pretty much a default setting. At least I now know how to get caught in an armlock. And use a stick. I'm going to be great back up."
Jace had meant well (Clary assumed) with what he'd been trying to teach her, but really, she'd sucked so much in trying to mimic his actions that she hadn't really understood any of it. She couldn't see how she'd be able to put it into action.
"Don't worry about it," Isabelle said, patting her shoulder gently. "I'm sure you'll be great bait." A grin took hold of her lips, teasing but well-meaning in nature. They came to a halt outside of her room. "I'm going to pack. I'll see you later, okay? And really, try not to worry. Alec and I won't let anything happen to you."
"I'm already such a natural at being bait," Clary retorted, returning her grin although the idea made her stomach all jumbly.
Clary gave a nod and mouthed the word okay, waiting until Isabelle had disappeared into her room before slowly making the trek to the guest room on the opposite side of the church.
She hadn't made it all the way there before a set of footsteps rushed up behind her.
"Fairchild," the voice said from behind her.
Everyone had been referring to her as Fairchild because of her mother's apparent Shadowhunter name and Clary was still getting used to it. She'd been Fray for eighteen years and they were suddenly trying to change it up along with the rest of her shambled life.
"Fray," she corrected as she turned to face the person. She'd recognized her as one of the administrators. "Clary Fray."
"The Heads would like to see you."
The Lightwoods.
Fantastic.
Clary hadn't thought she'd get pulled into the office but she supposed nearly getting their son killed for a pair of jeans called for some kind of scolding.
She nodded and followed the messenger back through the residential block and broke away to head toward their office. Space they temporarily shared while Robert visited. Apparently, he usually stayed in some other world with their youngest son Max. That had to be hard on a marriage.
She knocked lightly and heard the man in question from inside, "Enter."
Clary did and did so with an adept smile. She walked over to one of the chairs in front of their desk. Robert was seated while Maryse stood to his right like every political wife ever. Like their oldest, they weren't smiling – at least she wasn't. Robert appeared to be better at reading the room.
"You've been informed of your trip to Vegas?"
"Yes, Sir."
Robert seemed pleased, Maryse not so much. She had a striking resemblance to Alec. "Do you have any questions?"
"I'd just like to know what's expected of me."
"Apart from helping with the Mortal Cup – nothing. Isabelle and Alec will take care of everything. You're just expected to listen and follow their guidance."
A sentiment that echoed what his daughter had said a short while ago.
"And not to repeat what happened today," Maryse added.
"I—"
"You put my son at risk."
"Yes, ma'am—I-I know and I'm sorry."
Robert speared his wife with a look, one that had her shift back to composed and settled and away from the temporary mother she'd become in the face of nearly having lost her son to someone else's stupidity.
"How are you getting on with Jace?" Robert asked.
Clary frowned slightly, wondering if they were similarly asking her if she had a crush on him as Izzy had done in the cafeteria and what might have happened if Clary said yes.
"Good," she offered, choosing to assume that they were talking about something else entirely. The two shared a look, referred to a page on the desk and then pressed on.
"And Izzy? Alec?"
"Everyone's been really incredible, I've learnt a lot from them."
Both appeared to preen, as if she'd complimented them instead of their children. They pushed some pages around and then Robert rolled his chair away from the desk and stood, Maryse took his place.
"Before you go, maybe you could tell me in your own words what happened today. Starting with why Isabelle Lightwood didn't join you on your mission."
Clary cast a glance at Robert who'd turned his back to them, focusing on the window, resigned to the fact that his wife wasn't going to let the transgression go until all three stories lined up. She believed that Alec would do just about anything to protect Isabelle and that her incompetence, despite its outcome, should have some kind of reprimand or punishment. Deciding its outcome and when it was to happen felt like it landed on Clary's shoulders. Clary repeated what Isabelle had said in the infirmary when her mother first arrived to snipe at her, including her step to step movements with Alec when they got there, the fact that Clary'd taken a little longer than was necessary and that he'd been quick thinking. When Clary was done, Robert had turned to face her again and laid a satisfied hand on his wife's shoulder, an 'it's over, let's move on now' sort of signal that was unmissable. Maryse almost seemed disappointed. For the life of her, Clary couldn't figure out why. They thanked her for her truth and then said she was free to go.
She made her way out of the office and slowly found herself heading to Alec's room.
Ten minutes later, she knocked on his door.
The knock yanked Alec from the meditation, and it occurred to him he nearly nodded off.
He rubbed his eyes, getting off the chair with a bit of reluctance, and stretched, working the kinks out of his neck as he went to get the door. He expected Izzy or Jace, but there was the Fairchild girl, looking like a lost kitten under the rain.
"Something happened?"
"No, nothing happened, nothing serious." She didn't want him to think that the only reason she was knocking on his door was because the place was suddenly under attack and he needed to be on guard. "I was just called in to talk to your parents—the er… the Heads." It was so weird to refer to someone's parents with such authority. "I… would you mind if I come in?"
Alec frowned, uncertain what to make of the Heads' desire to speak to her, but assumed there might be a few questions they had collected since the girl's last visit to them a week ago.
Her request made him cringe, but he stepped aside, waving a come-in hand, and closed the door as she did.
Clary hadn't been in his bedroom before and she found that it was all a bit strict and orderly, a lot like who he was on the outside. Usually a person's personal space gave you insight into what they were like, what they were really like, and yet here, there wasn't even a contradicting hint.
She turned to face him, making a point of not venturing too far since she didn't want him to feel like she was taking over or had come to intrude, they were already on such thin ice.
How are we going to handle Vegas?
"They… or, well, your mother, she questioned me on what happened today. With the apartment, the demons, and more importantly your sister. I got the impression she was trying to dig for something. Not that I'm saying she is. It's just a vibe."
Alec folded his arms, a frown crossing his face as he tried to see what she was insinuating. There was nothing strange about the Heads asking for her insight, but apparently, the Fairchild kid felt suspicious. It rang slightly funny to him, almost enough to smile. "Digging for what, exactly?"
Surely he was aware of his mother's animosity toward his sister? Unless he was trying to make Clary believe that it was just the way Shadowhunter parents dealt with their children.
"I don't know," she admitted honestly. "But I feel like they… she was trying to figure out if Izzy intentionally botched the mission."
Alec knew for a fact that Maryse Lightwood would never search for a reason to believe Izzy could intentionally screw up a mission and put him in danger. It would rather be the opposite hope on her part. However, to someone who had never faced those Head Office moments, it could be hard to understand or perceive the right way.
"They know she didn't. All they were trying to get from you is your version – with the sole goal to see the whole picture and collect all the information. It's just strange for you, given your mother's raised you as a mundane."
He regarded her with interest. Seemed like she came to him for protection for Izzy. It was silly to assume Alec wouldn't have done his part already, but she didn't know any better. Just as about anything else concerning their lifestyle.
"I've been there first and told them the mistake was solely mine. You don't need to worry about Izzy. No one's going to punish her wrongly."
Clary couldn't tell if he actually believed that or if he was just defending his parents so that they didn't come off like a bunch of assholes.
He was right, though, it was strange and it didn't sit right in the pit of her stomach. Clary also didn't like the idea that something she could have said might have hurt Isabelle in some way.
All of this had been Clary's fault, anyway.
She nodded, satisfied that what he was saying was true, having found that she could rely on their word. Not that they hadn't given her physical reason for that, but emotionally, she also just knew.
Maybe it was their angel energy?
"Good," she mused. "And you? Did you get in much trouble for taking me?"
Alec chuckled and returned to his chair, waving at the other one out of courtesy. "No one got in trouble more serious than a reprimand for not following the protocol. It would have been more serious had either of us died or gotten hurt more severely. The judgement in our world is as fair as possible. You need to understand that. What you're used to in the world you've been raised in has little in common with our ways of doing things."
The fact that he'd invited her to sit was another surprise. Clary accepted the offer with a smile of thanks and slipped her hands onto her knees as she sat. "That's becoming more and more obvious every day," she agreed. "What would have happened if you had died?"
"A funeral ceremony," Alec said simply, leaning back into the chair, wondering what made her come here and even decide to stay. He was under the impression she was reading him right and thus preferred to avoid him in favor of Jace and Izzy who welcomed all her child-like questions of why and how and what.
"That's not what I meant," she said, refraining from rolling her eyes considering how close he'd come to that very thing – for her. "I meant to Isabelle. Would she have been held accountable?"
Clary knew emotionally Isabelle would have blamed herself, but that wasn't what Clary was asking. She was trying to figure out the law and their way of viewing things. How strict and bad would it have been for her and how was Clary going to prevent it in future. She barely even understood their laws and whether they even applied to her when she wasn't really a part of them to begin with?
Alec thought about it a moment, and shrugged. "Given I wouldn't be there to tell them I chose to go alone, she would probably be held accountable for not assigning her own replacement before attending another task. But in all fairness, the blame would still not be solely on her, but on me, as well. The fact that I haven't picked another hunter to go with us wouldn't have changed. The fact that it was my decision wouldn't have changed."
That didn't really make her feel better, reminding her how easily all of this could have gone wrong had he not gotten her out as he did and how close they'd come to whatever the circle had in store for her. God, she hoped it wasn't torture. Clary would bend like a wet noodle and had nothing to offer them. Not a stitch of information.
Maybe it was better she stuck to the amnesia bit.
"Lesson learned," she murmured.
Not for him – he had it together – but for her.
She inhaled slightly, glanced at her fingernails and the one she'd damaged with her nervousness, and then met his gaze again. "I haven't actually had the time to say it yet, but uh… thank you for getting me out."
"I was doing my job."
It was strange to him that she viewed it like he did her a favor that was his choice. But then again, they belonged to different cultures. He didn't put too much efforts into the intricacies of socializing norms among mundanes.
"You're welcome," he added, just in case it was what she expected to hear.
Clary smiled at his courtesy, feeling the concerns she had about them butting heads at a constant sweep away. Oh, she didn't doubt that it would happen a lot – it had since she got here – but it was nice to know that they'd reached a kind of common ground where he could be polite in a way that didn't have him go all grumpy-face or eye-rolly.
She imagined if she stayed a few more minutes and dove off into random topic land that he would.
'Baby steps, Clary.'
Like the ninja stars Hodge had given her.
"Anyway," she said before things could get socially awkward, "I'm kind of beat. I'll take a shower and get an early jump-start on my sleep. Isabelle said if we were to leave it would be pretty early in the morning." She slapped her hands to her knees gently and then stood. "One of you will wake me?"
"We won't leave without you, unfortunately, so don't worry. No one's allowed to leave you behind." He stood up when she did. "It is going to be early, though."
Clary gave him a look that made her wonder if he'd been able to read her mind and what she'd been thinking half a second ago about the status of their fragile alliance.
"I can deal with early," she said, still smiling. "I can't promise I'll be nice though. I'm not known to be a morning person."
A warning that was meant to be a joke despite its truth. She walked toward the door and opened it, gasping softly when she came face to face with Jace. She hadn't expected anyone.
"Cozy?"
"Not yet," she retorted, glad she hadn't lost her composure completely by being jumpy. She extended a hand and steered Jace back a step so that she could exit, casting Alec a last look as she did. "I'll see you in the morning."
She didn't wait on his reply or linger to hear what else Jace could possibly insinuate as she made her way to the guest rooms.
Alec made no response to her tirade as she exited, and focused his attention on Jace as soon as the redhead was out of his space.
Jace gave him a sharp, probing look, and went in past him, plopped in the chair Fairchild had been occupying a minute ago. He looked around and saw Alec's bag sitting next to the bookcase, all ready.
"Packed already?"
"Yes, Izzy's choices needed to be rectified."
He laughed. "Oh yeah, God forbid you wear anything she deems sexy."
Alec rolled his eyes and sat back in his chair. "You two are unbelievable."
"You're gonna miss it, brother. You'll see." He put his hands behind his head, leaning back, grinning. "I'd give anything to see how they combine efforts to push you off your beloved balance."
"I'd suggest you gain a little faith in my balance." Alec gave him a mock chiding look, and they laughed.
"Seriously though, I should be coming with you, and she's better off here. Why would they decide otherwise?"
Alec rubbed his neck, sighing. "I don't know. I'm not sure I want to know. It's so much easier to just take the orders and go with it."
"Yeah, for you. I'd like to know why I have to do what they order. It's nice to see the reasoning, am I wrong?"
"They want us to be with her in case she remembers something, and I guess it's not unreasonable. Sending her to another city, however, is not something I would've done. But it's not my decision to make, and frankly, I'm glad it isn't."
Jace leaned forward, propping his elbows on the knees. "Actually, I wanted to hear your thoughts about something. I'm staying behind and have to investigate how they found out when and where she would be. How did they know you went to her apartment?"
"I already told the Heads, they must be tracking her with her parents' blood. We'll have to find a way to hide her better, which is tricky without her wearing runes."
"Yes! Tell me, how is it wise for her to leave the Institute before her initiation? It's basically using her as a bait. Of course she can get hurt. It's a matter of time, and there needs to be more people coming with you. With just the two of you, it's like a suicide mission. It's stupid."
Alec saw his agenda as clear as day. But even though Jace was bending the arguments in its favor, Alec didn't see them as utterly wrong. He wasn't too far from a fair assessment, and perhaps it needed to be discussed on the upcoming briefing. "I'll tell them when they call us again."
"Put a word in for me?" Jace smiled as if they had a common secret. "I still don't see how it'd be wiser to keep me here when we're a team, the three of us. I thought the whole point of that and our bond was to use it to our advantage. And we're perfect together. They can't be oblivious to that."
"I'm sure they aren't. We'll see how it goes."
Jace reflected, his eyes traveling across the rug under his feet, then looked up at Alec, pensive. "Think there is a way to disrupt the blood tracking?"
"If it's not her blood, it's not perfect. But without her runes, it's a tricky business to protect her from it. We need mages for it. But even that would require a lot of magical tricks, I'm sure. Valentine's pretty determined, from the looks of it."
Jace squinted, eyeballing Alec as he was mulling it over. "He doesn't necessarily want her – just like those hulks told us, they want her for The Cup."
Alec narrowed his eyes, unwittingly mimicking him as he saw where Jace was going with it. "Which she doesn't know where to get because she doesn't remember. Think they know about Bane's block? I sort of doubt it, unless her mother told them before drinking the potion."
"That potion would prevent her from telling them anything, and I doubt she has. I doubt they know. Means they think Clary knows where The Cup is."
"And why wouldn't we have taken it already then?"
Jace winced and dropped his gaze downward, pondering. "Maybe she didn't tell us right away, either? Because she doesn't trust us? Or getting it requires some other manipulations we haven't gotten to yet."
"They can as well decide we're going to Vegas to get it, then," Alec scowled. "In case they find out about that."
"With blood tracking, they probably will. Are there any hunters in Vegas?"
"There's a headquarters with maybe a dozen."
"Better than nothing. But compared to Valentine's resources, you're outnumbered. There should be a plan, must be something we can do to throw them off. What if…" He looked at Alec, a sly glint in his eye. "What if they think we already have what they want?"
"Faking it?" Alec began to smile. "If it's all they need her for, it might work to get their target off her back. If we're lucky. But it will put a huge target on each and every one of us and the Institute. Means they will bring war on every hunter's head once they step outside the Institute's wards. Think it's a better outcome?"
Jace shrugged. "If she would've really delivered The Cup – would it be different?"
"No. No, it wouldn't."
"So if we trick them, the only thing we lose is a breather before they'd be all over us anyway."
Alec had to agree and nodded. "I think you should be at that briefing. And Izzy has to be in on it."
Jace grinned. "Thanks, brother. We gotta fill her in, then, shall we?"
He produced his phone and texted Izzy to come over.