Hey!
I'm back. Sorry this chapter isn't as long, but my computer keeps crashing. The next one will be longer. Promise. Shout out to: coreppinda5o3. And yes, this will be a Clace story. They're one of my OTPs! Also, thank you-roseEbelikov. Please, please review. It makes all the difference in the world to a writer to get any feedback.
Q. What's your favorite line in the entire shadowhunters franchise?
Please R/F/F!
Love, BookwormWRITINGwhiz
"How did he get there?" demanded Michael Wayland.
A council had been declared the very moment Starkweather's body had been found in the courtyard. The ten or so men now lay seated on the adorned chairs arguing, it was well past midnight and yet no conclusion had been reached.
"Who were the kidnappers?" asked George Penhallow, timidly, one of the younger courtiers, appointed only because of his uncle's reach, the young man was yet to prove himself useful at anything.
"The Morgensterns", replied Robert Lightwood gruffly, "It is obvious they tortured him for information. And being the treasonous coward he is, the man must have given it."
"But what are we to do? What is their next move?" asked bespectacled Marcus Lovelace.
"I think we should ask, how the hell did that corpse get into the courtyard. The place is in the damn middle of the palace." Burst Victor Whitelaw, looking red in the face.
"We have a mole," came a quiet voice in the back, the men turned around to see Alec Lightwood standing in the corner of the room, "And first order of business should be to flush him out."
The men looked from the young lad to the Prince and then the King. Jace nodded imperceptibly to his father, who said, "Then that be it. Council adjourned."
As the men walked out the room conversing, no one noticed the glint of a blade and the white knuckles clutching it as the Captain of Guard slipped oyt the room and to the roost where the delivery falcons were kept.
0oo0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0
Clarissa Morgenstern was not happy. Her heavy boots made clicking noises on the stone floor as she walked to her brother's chambers with a scowl set on her face. Waving a hand, she dismissed the guards outside his room and walked in without knocking.
The moment she entered, she immediately averted her eyes from the bed. Whipping out a throwing knife from her belt, she threw it at the shaking bed post where it stuck with a dull thud. The moaning immediately stopped and moments later she was graced with the appearance of his white blonde head from under the sheets.
His handsome features were screwed up in annoyance but immediately unclouded when he saw the thunderous expression on his sister's face. Gulping, he opened his mouth to say something but was interrupted by the woman under him, who chose that very moment to emit a throaty moan. If possible, Clary's lips thinned even more. Before he could speak again, Clary said, "I am going to give you two minutes to get ready and have your slut out the door. I have matters of the greatest importance to discuss with you."
Keeping quiet, Jonathan nodded and Clary immediately turned around. Jumping out of bed he pulled his pants up. The woman groaned and complained at the loss of his body and irritated, Jonathan told her to get dressed and leave.
The moment the door clicked closed, Clary turned around to her brother, her face a mask but eyes conveying all the emotions needed. Without further preamble she said, "We're screwed."
"I don't know about you, dear sister, but I am most definitely-"
"Shut up. That's not what I meant."
"What is it Clare?"
"We have a problem. Someone asshole from your team messed up."
"What did he do?"
"He decided it would be fun to ignore my orders and dump Starkweather's body in the Castle."
"Shit."
"Shit indeed, big brother."
The blond sat down on the bed, his head hunched and hands weaving in his hair. "What's the damage?"
"They know it was us and the whole kingdom is on high alert. They also suspect a mole."
"About time."
"Luke-"
"He knew what he was signing up for, Clare. We can't help him, it's his pos-"
"He's our God father first and partner in crime second, Jonathan Christopher Morgenstern and you will do well to remember it."
"Clare-"
"Tell me Jon, would you be able to live with another family member's blood on your hands?"
Her brother's wide eyes met with her stone cold ones and he said, softly, "When did you grow up, dear sister?"
"You know when." She replied and turned around. Clary paused at the door and said, "Take care of Sebastian. It's all that dick's fault."
Jon nodded and said, "Where are you going?"
"To sort this shit out."
"We still doing the robbery of the taxes?"
She turned to her brother, a small smile gracing her lips, "Hell, yeah. Tomorrow, in fact. I'll put the finishing touches on the plan."
The two siblings looked at each other carefully, their green eyes assessing each other before Clary broke away and walked out the door. Jonathan was left staring at the wall, thinking about what was to come, trying to shake off his sister's words and the dread creeping in.
Would he be able to live with the blood of another family member on his hands?
