Disclaimer-I own nothing but the plot
Here it is and on time. It's a pretty short chapter and I'm sorry about that but I like it and well I can't think of anything else to add. I don't think I'll have the next chapter up on Sunday for this story and 'Joy Ride' because I have a lot going on this next week. ACT testing, prom, family coming in, pet sitting. So sorry. I will have one, hopefully a longer one for you the next Sunday after that. Anyway, thanks for all the favs, follows, reviews, and those who just read it. Well here it is, hope you like it.
Chapter 3
Clary pulled her unruly, curly hair back into a pony tail biting back a heavy sigh as she reached forward for a set a blades. They just didn't feel right in her hands, not like her guns did. The blades, balanced almost perfectly, just didn't feel right. They were made of the wrong metal, had the wrong texture, the wrong metallic smell. It was just all wrong but she gritted her teeth and held onto them anyway. She was a Morgenstern and they never stepped down just because they were slightly uncomfortable.
Being uncomfortable didn't stop her from wearing those dresses her mother made her wear to the balls and events in the city. Didn't stop her from dancing with Alec Lightwood or his little brother Max whenever they asked or Sebastian Valrec. She just put on a small, fake smile and nodded with appropriate. If there was anything she could do it was put on a fake smile and make the world believe it was genuine. Just another part of her that existed that she didn't know about. She'd put up with anything anyone threw at her as long as her secret was kept and she was able to continue with it.
"Are you going to do anything with those or just stand there with them in your hand and look like they are something alien?" Jon. Asked, startling Clary from her thoughts.
"Why are you here Jon?" Clary asked, moving one arm back and snapping it forward to hit the target near the middle just like she aimed too. She may not be the most comfortable with a knife instead of a gun but that didn't mean she hadn't trained herself to use them like anyone else could.
"Training. Keeping up the appearance. Same as you." He told her quietly as he stepped up beside her, picking up his own set of knifes to throw. Clary couldn't help it but let out a small snort. Jon shot her a small smile before repeating the same actions she had used. His landed perfectly in the center and Clary couldn't help but feel jealous. Maybe it was because Jon could hold a knife without comparing it to a gun and could throw them and use them the way they were supposed to.
"Don't do that Clare." Jon said sharply, releasing another knife. They had forged an odd but close and dependable relationship the past few years. It had to do with being Valentine's children to an extent but also that they each held the others' secret close to their hearts. If either one of them were found out by anyone else, well things would certainly be rather unsavory.
Clary had gotten sloppy, not that she'd ever admit it but she had. She had left one of her floor boards up and Jon being the ever curious brother he was, peeked. He was shocked by what he saw, scrambling backwards like the gun hidden under the floor was a disease ridden animal. He had seen pictures that his father had shown him and he knew exactly it was under her floor. But what he didn't understand was why it was under her floor. Clary was everything Valentine wanted wasn't she? A happy, strong, powerful, drive young girl who did almost anything to please her parents.
But the, that, that thing that wasn't wrapped like it was supposed to be nestled down in a space carved out in the floor said otherwise. Why would Clary have gun? The word sounded like a horrible curse even as he said it in his mind, unable to stop the flinch that accompanied the thought. The sound of someone opening Clary's bedroom door caused him to jump, it was only Clary.
That's what made it so terrible, it was Clary. Her eyes widened when she saw him and then flicked instantly to where her gun was hidden. Jon saw her sharp intake of breath when she saw the floorboard up. The color drained form her face and her expression morphed from surprise to worry to extreme anger, a look that mirrored Valentine's. The door swung shut quietly behind her and everything seemed to slow down for Jon as he stared up at his sister.
She launched herself at him, tackling him to the ground. They rolled a few times, Jon moving in a way he could only describe as sluggish as he tried to push her away, to get away from this, this person who wore his sister's face. Clary pinned him, her red hair falling down and into Jon's face, his arms held down in a grip so tight it was almost painful.
"What are you doing in here?!" Clary asked him, her face filled with a mix of anger and fear. Jon took a moment to answer.
"Why do you have that, that thing?!" He almost yelled back and Clary slapped a hand over his mouth, to stop him from yelling again.
"Not so loud!" She hissed and Jon could only stare at her wide eyed. This was his sister. A sixteen year old girl who was barely over five feet with bright red hair and green eyes and a dirty habit, a dirty secret. He couldn't believe it. This was who she really was. A strong, powerful, driven young woman who played with guns, of all things.
"Why?" He repeated although it was still a bit muffled from her hand. She stared at him for a moment, a look so calculating Jon could only stare.
"You won't tell?" She asked and Jon continued to stare. "You won't tell?" She repeated, pressed down on with the hand that still held his wrist in place.
"I won't tell." He said finally and something changed in her gaze, something almost softened and she looked more like the little sister he thought he knew. Her shoulders sagged and it almost looked like a weight had been lifted from her shoulders at his words. She let him up and quickly replaced the floorboard, turning to look at him knowing now that he could use this as leverage and he probably would being who he was and who their father was but Clary was okay with that. It would be nice to have someone else know, even if it was about something as looked down upon as this. So she motioned for him to sit down and told him everything.
"Sorry." She muttered before tossing another blade in the air and catching it out of habit. Something she had begun to do without thought.
"Careful Clarissa, wouldn't want you to mark up your pretty skin." Valentine said behind her, causing her to once against startle a bit but it didn't stop her from catching the blade with ease or doing it again in the same manner. Valentine smiled down at his daughter and towards his son.
"I see you found the new ones." He commented and Clary and Jon nodded, their faces impassive. Valentine waved his hand and both children turned and threw knives again. Clary's hit dead center while Jon's was just a hair off, he wasn't quite as good at working under pressure as Clary was. Valentine nodded before retreating from the room.
"Keep it up." He said before disappearing from sight fully. Both Clary and Jon sucked in a deep breath before continuing. Clary looked over at Jon as he continued with the knife throwing, a small frown gracing her face. She shot while Jon shot up and that was something that she wished was different, for him at least. She had found out his secret by accident, stumbling in on him in the act and being who she was, she looked at him for a while before nodding and walking back out. She had her dirty secret and he had his and while his was more harming in some ways than hers was, it would be like the kettle calling the cup black if she told him to stop.
"I've got to go. Have a run planned with Jace." Jon said suddenly as he exited the training room. Jace Herondale, that was an unlikely friendship, if that's what it was called, to say the least. Valentine had always told his children to be better than the Herondale brat and that made Clary resent the blonde boy who caught her attention but was a total ass and made Jon form a friendship. They trained together and sparred and all that and sometimes hung out but it was just weird for Clary to see them.
Jace Herondale. If there was anyone else more annoying than him, Clary would probably die from shock. He was an ass who always got what he wanted and had a string of girls trailing behind him. It was almost sickening and Clary couldn't stand it. She didn't like the blonde hair, golden eyed, rather attractive, tall, muscular, ass of a boy and she planned to keep it that way. Even if he was slighlty more interesting than she would like to admit.
