A/N: The story gets interesting in here. By the Angel, I don't even know what to name this chapter. However, I found one, something mysterious to hear. Now, you've read the last three chapters, I hope you liked this one. It seems kind of a stressing to me. Luke is very brave. Anyways, enjoy and don't forget the reviews! I certainly need it!
Summary: The demon bared its fangs into Jace's neck, which made Clary stood bravely. "Are you really gonna attack someone who's defenseless? Why don't you fight me, you little cowardly bastard?" Jace shook his head, slowly and weakly, "Don't do this." Post-CoG.
Rating: T to be safe
Disclaimer: Cassandra Clare owns this. I only own the PLOT ..
Chapter Four: Priscilla Penhallow
Jocelyn stumbled backwards, falling into Luke's arms.
She looked up, seeing the worried look on his face. She looked at the window again. She surely saw the demons, ten of them at least, or fifteen or twenty. They were just three, outnumbered. Luke pulled her up, and cupped her face. Opening her mouth to speak, nothing came out. She whimpered, feeling the emptiness from her lips. There were no words from her throat, just a soft worried cry.
"What did you see?" Luke found no answer, other than fear in the woman's eyes. He walked pass her. Then, he leaned back, pulling the curtains close. "They're here." Luke mumbled. He met his sister's eyes, terrified and surprised. The demons must have tracked their scent, or their attacks were, as if, planned.
Luke ran back into the drawers and pulled almost all of the weapons. Amatis started at him, and to Jocelyn. Luke turned back into the woman sitting in the bed, his fiancée and the only woman he ever loved. Jocelyn never thought she'd be scared like this again, like the first time she's been scared when she had gave birth to her first child, Jonathan. "Amatis, bring Jocelyn into the other room."
Jocelyn's eyes lifted, snapping her back into reality, and looked at Luke. As well as Amatis, she looked scared for Luke. He can't just take out these demons by himself, not that he's stronger because he had a werewolf part in him but it's more than ten. "What about you, Luke?" Amatis found her voice shaking as she asked. She never saw his brother like this before, determined and brave enough to take down twenty demons.
"I'll follow you, just go." Luke reassured.
Amatis ran over to Jocelyn and pulled her hand, running into the dimmed narrow corridor. Luke sat there, breathing hard as he grabbed the blades from the drawer. Then, everything fades to black.
Clary sat down by the couch, watching as Alec talks to Magnus.
Magnus had informed everyone that Jace is now fine; the demon blood that has been spilled into an amount of his blood account has taken a large damage and strength from him. It even causes Magnus to faint down near the bed, for treat Jace—which is much like bringing the dead back to life. If Alec hadn't slipped into the bedroom, he wouldn't have seen Magnus lying down there, also unconscious. But then, he heard Jace stir and moan into his sleep, Alec realize Magnus just transferred almost all of his energy to keep Jace safe and alive.
Clary hadn't thanked Magnus yet, for saving the only guy she'll ever love. If Magnus wouldn't be here, Jace would probably be dead by now.
Isabelle was busy preparing for lunch, trying to make a soup for Clary and Jace, which to Alec and Magnus is a total suicide. But Isabelle would not stop interfering into the kitchen business, even though she is a guest, like what Priscilla Penhallow had told her.
Turning her head, directly into the open doors of the mansion, she finds the sunlight beaming inside the house and hitting heatedly the marbled floors. The house is beautiful, probably the most beautiful of all the houses or mansions Clary have ever seen.
There is a thick furry mat near the door, a plain long furry mat lying into marbled floor. Clary noticed the familiar carvings into the wooden door, the same carvings in some of the seraph blades that Nephilim uses to fight and slay demons. Clary wondered how they are able to carve the same thing from the blades into the doors.
A hand nudged over her shoulder, and she cringed—making her look back. The beautiful Aline Penhallow stands behind her, a small smile crept into those gorgeous color-coated lips. Clary moved away to give Aline a seat, which Aline obliged to take. She grabbed Clary's hand, "I heard about the attack. You're lucky Jace is with you." Clary tried to flash a faint smile, but she was unsuccessful. Aline giggled, seeing the obviously fake smile in Clary's lips.
"Aline," Clary called. Aline lifted her head towards Clary, locked her perfectly chocolate eyes into those green irises Clary posses. "Will you promise me something?" Aline frowned, waiting for Clary to go on. Her mouth agape and an exhausting sigh escape her lips before speaking. Clary's long eyelashes fluttered as she stared at Aline, clearly to see the beautiful girl next to her, "When I'm not around, will you look out Jace for me?"
Aline did not answer, she kept her hands intertwined as if she felt anxious about what Clary just asked her. She smirked humorlessly, trying to sound descent, and bowed her head down. She stared at her pink coated nails, shining against the sunlight from the doors. The sun continued to rise up higher and higher, and the light entered the mansion unwillingly and unwelcome. "Aline, I'm saying this right now, because I just don't know what could possibly happen to me, to everyone, and to Jace."
"I know, and I will." Aline did not sound so promising, her voice was monotonous and flat. Aline reached out for Clary's hand and giggled, "I promise." Clary immediately found herself hugging Aline, the girl she thought who'd take Jace away from her at first for Aline is extremely and menacingly beautiful and Jace might just take interest in her. But Jace stayed with love Clary, ignored Aline even though she's a thousand times better than Clary. "Don't worry; if you're thinking that I'll steal Jace away from you, you're wrong. Like I told you, he's not my type."
Jocelyn paced around the room, Clary's room actually.
Amatis wiped the blades clean and watched as Jocelyn worriedly walked back and forth into the creaking wooden floor of Amatis's old shack, much more of a house actually. Jocelyn kept her fingers together, feeling the sweatiness of each of her palms against each other. Luke hasn't still come inside and it's been like fifteen minutes, or longer.
If Luke had fought all of those demons, she'll surely kill herself for letting him fight those filthy demons, without her help. But what can she do? She's barely knew how to fight, for it has been years since she left the Shadow World and take care of her only child, the only child she wanted to know and that is Clary.
The Mundane world is much more a complicated than the Shadow World, not knowing where to go. If Luke hasn't been there to help her, she wouldn't have raised Clary right. If she didn't leave Valentine for her stupid and foolish love for him, she would still be a danger into the Shadow World, and even her daughter.
"Jocelyn, calm down, please. We feel the same, he's my brother for once." Her tone is calm, with no fear hinting on it. Jocelyn stared at her incredulously, she wanted to argue back. But somehow, Amatis had a point. Of course, they're brothers and sisters. Amatis and Luke grew fighting and slaying demons like what an ordinary Nephilim should do, like her. It's just Jocelyn's life is much more complicated, than any of the mundanes or Nephilims.
Then, there was a knock on the other side of the brown wooden door, a loud but the only knock on the door. Their heads turned sideways, taking similar glances with each other, but Jocelyn rushed towards the door. She grabbed the silver doorknob, feeling the coolness of the metal against her skin. She pulled the door open and found Luke, standing there with his left elbow leaning tiredly against the doorframe. "Jocelyn," he mumbled, and he fell into his knees.
Jocelyn immediately hooked her arms around him. He transformed into a werewolf, probably the reason why he's wearing nothing right now. Her eyes darted into the dark immense and dimmed corridor, finding the ground filled with golden dusts and ichors with hilts lying down with their blades also missing. She looked down at Luke, brushing the hair from his forehead. Sweat poured into his skin, his eyes were closed. He's drained out of energy, completely tired right now.
Amatis ran to her brother, pulling the covers from Clary's bed and covered it to Luke. "He's fought all the demons." Jocelyn did not break her eyes from Luke. He looks so perfect, she thought. Jocelyn stood up to pull Luke inside the room, as Amatis pushes the door close.
The two women helped each other get Luke into the bed and covered with the thin plain sheets of Clary's bed. Jocelyn ran a hand over Luke's face, soothingly tracing her fingers into his cheeks. "How the hell would he take down twenty demons?" Amatis lashed out, worriedly, dropping her hands from the air and slapped a hand over her forehead. She looked at her brother; he looked so tired and exasperated. He cannot fight anymore. "You're so stupid, Lucian, so stupid."
"We need to inform Maryse or the other Lightwoods about our situation. Luke needs to be treated right now; he's drained out of energy." Jocelyn stated, without looking at Amatis. She continuously stared at Luke, watching him rest over the single bed he lies down. He shivered with the coolness and dampness of the ordinary sized room made him cringe under the covers.
Amatis extended her hand fully, reaching the white slender phone standing on the bedside table. She dialed numbers, and reached it near her ear. There was no sound, and she finally hang up. "Maryse wouldn't answer her phone," Amatis exclaimed, annoyed and disappointed.
Jocelyn sighed, knowing there must be another way to get the Lightwoods informed.
A loud bang startled the both woman in the room, their heads turned into the closed door. There was a shadow at the end of the door, sending them both into fear and torment. Jocelyn's face fell, feeling the heaviness of her shoulders as she watched as Amatis went to open the door. Then, they gasped, hearing a loud wolf cry over the door. Amatis pulled the door open and found a grey furry creature standing there with honey dark brown eyes mixed with flecked greenish and yellowish shade. Amatis recognized the creature, and mumbled while lowering her weapon, "Maia."
The werewolf barked, gritting its teeth with anger. Then, the werewolf calmed—its paws resting soft into the ground and stared peacefully at her pack leader's sister. Then, she transformed, covering herself with her own parts and looked up at Amatis. "Our pack is attacked, in the middle of the forest. We seek help from our pack leader." Maia talked to Amatis, sounding concerned with her voice trembling.
"We were attacked too, and Luke fought the demons that attacked us, all by himself. He drained a lot of energy." Maia crooked her head and stared her pack leader. Luke stirred into his sleep, hearing voices in his head but he tried to ignore. He needed to rest, and he had to. "Where do you think could I ask for help? Some of our werewolves are wounded and two of them are already dead, we can't risk no more."
"The Lightwoods, they'll help. They're uninformed and you have to inform them that we are attacked and seek out help with them," Amatis stated, her fingers wrapping into a knot and sighed. Her breath felt like hot fire, burning in her lips along with the fear igniting in her chest. Her heart hammered, why do demons have to attack everyone here in Idris? Who could possibly want war just after the war at least two days ago?
"Maia," Jocelyn called, "Tell my daughter that we're fine. Tell her to keep herself safe, keep her safe." She looks hopefully at the young werewolf and let out a desperate breath. Her hot breath mixed into the damp moistened room, as Maia transformed back into her form. The creature barked once more, before disappearing from their sight in one blink.
Isabelle had served the lunch, preparing it with the help of Aline's mother—Priscilla.
Alec and Magnus were finally convinced that the food is untainted with Isabelle's poisonous making trick whenever she tried to cook something. Priscilla is a good cook, her food always made the consumers in awe and even drools.
Clary was still silent. She hadn't seen Jace ever since Magnus treated him, for Magnus forbids anyone to come in so that Jace could regain his strength easily. She wanted to see Jace, but she couldn't. The bruises in her skin were slowly healing with the rune Alec had given him and also with a little help from the magnificent warlock.
She still felt guilty about the events that have happened earlier. What if those demons were only after her? And what does that demon that she killed said that her brother would want her for some personal reasons? Does that mean Sebastian is alive all along and he planned all of the attacks? She cannot be surer, the reason why she cannot speak it to the Lightwoods. She wanted to keep it hidden, as long as possible, until there are solutions to their problems.
Gripping the silver spoon with her slender fingers, she stared down at the soup. Alec sits next to her, who is incredibly starving that he might have to drink all of the soup and even the bowls and the spoons. Magnus, on the other hand, embarrassingly watches his boyfriend drink the soup from his own bowl and slightly shook his head.
Clary played with the soup, taking her first sip—the heated and nearly-boiling soup melting into her tongue, sending her some shivers inside as it collided with the coldness of her flesh. She looked over the table, and saw Isabelle. She tasted the soup and her eyes widened with the incredible taste melting into her tongue and she swallowed. "This is the best soup ever." She giggled, louder and louder until Alec rolled his eyes at her.
"And that is because you aren't the one who made this," he judged, taking another large sip from his bowl. Then, he lifted his napkin to wipe his lips formally, running the white fabric into his lips and that made Magnus smile widely.
"Oh shut up, will you, Alec?" Isabelle whined, taking another spoonful of soup from the large bowl. Isabelle turned to the older Penhallow, the fierce woman standing on the counter and watching as the young Nephilims finished their drinks. A woman with an long wavy black spill into her shoulders and shining as a black pearl, her eyes mixing with the enlightening blue irises in her eyes, and a wonderful curve on her lip. "Thank you, Aunt Priscilla."
The woman gave that famous 'you're welcome' flash on her red lips, pulling her hair up into a tie and stared at Clary. "Clarissa, right?" Priscilla called, catching everyone's attention. Then, all of them, looked at Clary with questioning eyes.
"I usually prefer Clary," she informed and the woman gave a faint smile.
"Fine, Clary." Her tone was flat, convincingly, and she continued to stare at Clary, "How's your mother? Jocelyn, I mean." Of course, it's Jocelyn, who else could be my mother? Clary wanted to shout at her but that would be rude.
Clary's mouth opened to speak, but she found her words would be somewhat pointless for it is not a very good time in 'how're you doing' moments. "She's fine, I think." She found her words as sharp as a pricking needle.
"You think?" Priscilla asked.
Clary did not answer, staring down at the soup in her bowl. The soup was cream colored, probably because of the milk in the soup. As she stared down at the unmoving soup, she could see a slight image of her reflection. Before taking her last sip, she found herself dropping the spoon into the bowl slowly and silent. All of their heads turned into the door of the dining room.
"Clary!" A scream fainted into the air, seems to be seeking out for help.
Clary pushed the chair backwards, making a screeching sound into the marbled floor but ignored it. She ran out of the dinning room and into the front door. She saw nothing. It's just an empty pathway with leaves circling around as the wind blew pass the house. She felt a nudge over her shoulders, and she saw Isabelle standing with her, and sooner, Alec comes along being dragged by Magnus. "I'm not Clary, you know, you don't have to drag me here. Last I checked, it was Clary being shouted, not Alec." Magnus whined at his boyfriend's sharpness.
"Shut up, you two." Isabelle scowled, her teeth clenching inside.
Clary did not react; she just stared at the empty pathway. However, she heard rustlings—soft rustling by the bushed. "Clary!" There was another faint cry, and the voice is certainly owned by a girl. Clary ran out of the mansion, clacking her feet into the cold marble staircases. Her eyes froze, as if she felt stiffened from a fridge.
"Maia?" The dark haired girl called.
The girl looked up, her brown freckled eyes shining against the sun. Actually, the sun hides over the thick massive clouds above the sky, unmoving and giving a little light. "Clary," her voice trailed off, finding the fear in her voice as she tried to cover herself with her parts like what she usually does, "Jocelyn, Luke and Amatis… they're attacked awhile ago, demons and they were outnumbered. But Luke fought them by his own strength, and he drained out of energy. They're safe now…" The werewolf girl ran out of breath, after running a few kilometers away from Amatis, "The Lightwoods. Isabelle and Alec, I need your help. Our pack is being slain by dozens of demons and we cannot handle much. I cannot seek out for Luke because he absolutely needs rest. Most of our werewolves are wounded, and two are already dead, probably more."
The Lightwood children shared similar glances. Then, Magnus pulled Alec again inside the mansion, "I know that look, Alexander. Whether you like it or not, you'll help that werewolf girl to save her pack, because the Shadow World crisis still isn't over, some unfinished business as we call it." Magnus stated, fixing Alec's collar.
"I have to get my mom and Luke and Amatis. They have to save! I can't just standing here and do nothing." Clary exclaimed, looking at Maia. Isabelle pulled Clary's shoulders and kept both of her hands there. Clary locked her green irises into those black spilled irises and found Isabelle's fair face.
"Of course you'll do something… else—other than saving your mom and that is keeping Jace safe until he awakes." Isabelle said. Then, she left, leaving Clary and Maia out of the mansion. Clary knew there is no way the Lightwoods could be convinced that she needs to save her mother. "After our fight with the demons that attacked our pack," Clary turned as Maia spoke to her, "I'll save them, I promise."
Clary nodded her head and avoided Maia's gaze.
To Evangeline
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