Chapter Four

When Clary woke, she blinked back immediately against the bright light streaming in through a window. She must have made a sounds, because someone asked, "You okay?" In a light, laughing tone.

Clary sat up straight and whipped her head around.

Jocelyn stood behind her, pulling a cardigan over a blouse and slacks, smirking down at her. "Good morning, sleepy head."

For a second, her whole body tensed, taking stock of where, who, and what—she was sore and stiff, and she had no weapons. No phone.

Then she remembered.

Jocelyn. The car. They'd taken a plan to Ohio from Miami, then Clary had used a rune to open a portal to London. A taxi. Then they'd gotten a hotel. They'd stayed awake for a long time, Clary faking loving her mother, faking interest, faking caring. She'd asked about Simon, and the woman had said they couldn't bring him in yet.

"You slept forever," she continued now. "Sixteen hours." She leaned over the bed and pressed a kiss to her daughters forehead, pausing to stroke her cheek lightly before standing again. "Travel has always exhausted you."

And it wasn't about to get any better. According to their late night conversation, travel was all they would be doing for a while. Show their faces around the world, make them untraceable, portray a touch of Clary's power to portal, make the Clave chase if they were looking, throw them off a possible trail.

The problem, of course, was that there wasn't a trail. Clary had told the Clave about the safehouse in Florida. There was no other safe house. There was no travel plan—they didn't need one when Clary could just create a portal at will. They had runes to keep the tracking spells from working.

Not to mention the fact that by being seeing with her mother, Clary was effectively telling the Clave to either kill her or ignore her existence.

"You'd think I'd be used to it by now," Clary laughed, hoping she didn't look like she wanted to cry.

Jocelyn laughed too. "You'd think, but it makes you more unique. Now, first things first, you probably want a shower and breakfast. So," she looked around and grabbed her coat off the back of an armchair. "I'm going out to get you some new clothes—"

"Can't I just portal back and get some?"

"And if they were in there? They're probably tracking everything you own, Clary. No, it's too risky for any of them to see us yet. "So I'll get some clothes and food, and I'll be back in a little while."

Before Jocelyn could ask, Clary pulled the stele from the pocket of her slept in clothes and handed it over. "You probably don't trust me alone with this yet."

After a moment of hesitation, she took it, then placed a seraph blade in Clary's hand. "We both need to trust each other."

"I trust you," she said, eyes widening. "I wouldn't be here if I didn't. I...I missed you. I kept hoping you would come back for me." She looked away. "I was little, Mother. A child. I was scared. Now...now I'm just scared something will happen to you..." She felt arms around her, and smiled into her mother's shoulder.

"Nothing is going to happen, Clary, I promise. And I won't let anyone hurt you again, okay? Not ever." She held on for a few minutes, stroking her tangled red hair.

And then she was gone, leaving Clary alone in the posh hotel room with no personal belongings, no stele, and a single seraph blade.

"But she believes me," she whispered to herself, smiling. "And soon...soon she'll trust me."

And then I'm out of here.

Jonathan and Simon both woke with a start to the sound of the front door closing, though it had been a nearly inaudible click through the closed bedroom door. Still, they both bolted into sitting positions on the floor, arms reaching back, hands closed over the hilts of seraph blades-not, of course, that the blades would have been the greatest weapons to use in this case, being as Alicante was a demon-free zone.

They sat completely still for a long moment, then together sighed and slouched back down, leaning against the wall. They were on the floor of Clary's bedroom in the apartment in Alicante, and hadn't even realized they'd fallen asleep until they'd been woken up. Simon rubbed at his face tiredly, and yawned.

"What time do you think it is?" He asked around the yawn and stretch.

Jonathan shook his head, pulling out his cellphone. After a second of looking at it, he put it back in his pocket and looked at the watch on the wrist of his other hand. He looked at the window. "About noon."

"Was it even dark when we fell asleep?"

"I don't even remember falling asleep," the older boy chuckled, pushing his fingers through his hair, feeling it was a complete mess.

After the completely not productive Clave meeting the day before, during which the next moves were meant to be decided, and during which nothing was decided at all, not even narrowed down a little bit, the boys and Valentine had returned to the apartment they'd been in for the last week. The man had changed clothes and immediately left to see Maryse. Jonathan and Simon had sat in the living room for a long time, talking occasionally but mostly silent and thinking, trying both not to worry about the Clave's decisions-or lack thereof. Then, Jace and the others had stopped by for a bit. Once they'd left, Jonathan had excused himself. After nearly twenty minutes, Simon had gotten up to look for him. The other boy had been in the small bedroom with the pink and green bedspread, hand-drawn pictures on the walls, a pile of clothes in the corner, a picture of the small family on the nightstand. He'd been sitting on the floor by the bed, staring across the room at a wall of Clary's drawings. They were done in what Simon realized after a moment was very old, from years before he'd met her. She'd improved a lot. He'd have to tell her he was proud of her progress as an artist.

Simon had stood in the doorway for a long moment, Jonathan not saying anything or moving. Then he'd sighed and sat beside the other boy.

"We used to spend a couple days a week here," Jonathan said suddenly, after several moments of silence. "When Father and Jocelyn would come to speak with the Clave or get some official work done-they didn't like doing it at the house because they said it made it hard to separate work from home." He paused. "Clary and I used to play in the living room while they were gone. When they were home, especially if they were working or had other shadowhunters over, we would go outside and run through the streets. We used to sit on the hill behind the Accords Hall and watch the sunset."

"I bet it looks amazing," Simon said quietly. His eyes flickered to the window.

"It does. When the sun hits the towers just right...it lights up the whole city. It's the most amazing and beautiful thing you could ever imagine. And we had the best seats in the house on that hill. And after playing and running around all day, we'd come back and sit here in her room and talk about how we were going to be amazing shadowhunters some day-be Parabatai, share the Morganstern manor, and move out into the world, live in a city, and hunt demons all the time. We used to be so excited for the action. We thought we were invincible. Nothing could touch us."

"You were children," Simon whispered. "It's okay for children to have those kinds of dreams. That's what being a kid is-even kids who are born in the never-ending War on Demons."

"We were fools to think that nothing would ever go wrong. It all went to Hell before we were even born."

Simon didn't say anything for a long time. He watched at the sun fell fully and the window became dark. Soft amber lights were on throughout the city, and he admired the lacy shapes the cast across the room as they hit the curtains.

"You were no more foolish that every other shadowhunter in the world, Jonathan."

"Yeah, except that the rest of the shadowhunter children don't have an insanely evil mother who did unspeakable experiments on them, stole a Mortal Instrument, abducted her own daughter, let her be tortured by her boyfriend, erased her memories and forced her to forget who she was and her Angel given purpose in life, told her her father and brother were dead, set her up to meet a guy who had been genetically altered to be with her, stalked her for weeks, then abducted her again, and disappeared without a trace." Jonathan shook his head, laughing with mock humor. "And we always just thought our mother was a little weird."

"To be fair...she is super weird."

Jonathan laughed.

Now, they rubbed their eyes and stretched, pulling to pop their joints, stiff from sleeping on the hard wood floor. Simon stood first, leaving the room and heading for the kitchen. On the counter was a handwritten note.

'S+J- with Maryse. Home tonight with food. Council tomorrow. Try to chill out today. -Dad'

Simon made coffee and unpacked pop tarts, and was just sitting down when Jonathan came out, hair wet from a shower, dressed in clean clothes, his feet bare. He got a cup of coffee, and sat across from Simon, helping himself to one of the pop tarts.

"Have you notice," Simon said casually, after Jonathan had read the note. "That your dad has been spending a lot of time with Maryse Lightwood?"

He blinked. "No? Why? They've known each other for a long time. Clary and I grew up playing with Alec and Isabelle—And Jace too. The Morgansterns and Lightwoods have always been close. The Blackthorns too. And the Penhallows before they moved to run the Paris Institute. We all used to have play dates."

"Play dates? What do shadowhunter kids play? Hide and Seek the Nest of Vampires?"

Jonathan rolled his eyes. "No, that's ridiculous. We played Demon Hunters."

"Is that where you pretend to be adults and kill demons?"

"Clary used to paint runes on us cuz she was the only one who could make them look right without a stele."

"Wow. What did you use as demons?"

"Usually the little Blackthorn kids and the Carstairs girl."

"Anyway..." Simon laughed. "Anyway, as I was saying...?"

"Father has always been close with the Lightwood parents. They were close friends."

"He doesn't hang out with Robert, like, ever."

"He's always in Idris."

"We're in Idris right now."

Jonathan blinked once. Twice. Again. "Maryse is in New York more. She's more familiar with everything going on."

"Even before Clary went missing."

He gave him a look. "Are you implying something?"

"Not at all," Simone said innocently, taking a long, slow drink of his coffee. "Merely an observation."

"My Father is a married man, Simon."

"Need I remind you that he hasn't seen his wife for more than five minutes in literal years?"

"Maryse is married."

"Isabelle said they haven't been getting along well, also in literal years."

"They're just friends."

"I don't doubt that."

A knock at the door made them jump. Simon went over and opened it. Before he could say anything, Jace, Alec, and Isabelle stepped in and immediately made themselves at home.

"Please, come in," Simon said. "Mi casa es su casa."

"Valentine is at our place," Alec said. "So we left."

"I wanted to stay," said Jace hotly. "Didn't get to eat more than two bites of my breakfast."

Jonathan threw a pop tart at him. He caught it easily, finished it in two bites, and walked over to grab two more from the plate on the table. He handed one to Alec and tossed one to Isabelle, who caught it without looking up from making herself a cup of coffee.

"Why didn't you stay?" Simon asked, sitting back down. He went for a pop tart but the plate was empty. With a sigh, he took the plate back to the counter and started unwrapping more. "Why leave so fast?"

"Because it's beyond disturbing to watch Mom flirt with someone. Valentine is cute, but—"

"But we don't want him to be our new dad," Alec finished, a childish falsetto to his voice.

Simon gave Jonathan a look.

"But she's married!"

"Yeah," Jace chuckled. "Because they haven't had a 'good enough' reason to divorce." He shrugged. "Why leave when you'll be just as alone?"

"My father is married!"

They all gave him a look.

Isabelle spoke first. "Jonathan, your mother is an evil psycho who recently kidnapped your sister for the second time and has performed illegal dangerous experiments on countless children, including you and Clary. I don't know much about marriage, but I think that that's a good reason to end one."

Jonathan slumped in his chair, looking disbelieving and distraught. "But..."

"They're both adults," said Simon. He eyed his chair, which Jace had taken up residence in. "If they want to pursue a relationship, power to them."

"Were they really flirting?" He asked dejectedly.

"They're probably not flirting now," Jace said, deadpan. He noticed Jonathan perk up a little. "Because They're mouths are likely otherwise busy—"

"Okay!" Simon half-shouted, setting the plate loudly on the table. He pushed Jaces feet off a chair and sat.

"Having—"

"Thank you, Jace, for your awesome speculation. That'll be sufficient for today."

"Crazy—"

"Amounts of—"

"Demon—"

"Information about where to find Clary."

"Sex."

Jonathan jumped out of his chair and ran to the sink. He turned the faucet on full cold and shoved his face under the icy stream. "I DONT WANT TO HEAR IT I DONT WANT TO KNOW BY THE ANGEL JUST STOP!"

"Demon sex?" Alec asked.

"Like monkey sex," Jace informed him. "But instead of bananas And that weird, they feed on the chaos of the battle that they have waged with each other.''

"That's actually kind of romantic," said Isabelle.

"What's the battle?" Asked Alec, clearly not faking his innocence.

"Who can make the other cum first."

"BY THE ANGEL MY EARS STOP IT JACE BEFORE I KILL YOU WITH YOUR OWN HANDS!"

"Sounds sexy.'' Jace winked.

"Stop it," Simon snapped, but he was smirking. After all, it wasn't his parents. He turned the water off and dropped a dish towel on Jonathan's wet hair.

"Don't understand what the big deal is," Jace muttered. "We're all mature. We know how babies are made." He smirked. "Besides, we've all had sex before, not like it's a new concept."

Isabelle nodded, then looked at the other three boys. Her eyes went wide. They'd all looked away. "No," she said, shocked. "Tell me your joking!"

"I'm not," Jace said, oblivious. "We've discusses it before, Izzy."

"Anyway—"

Jace interrupted Alec. "Oh." He looked around, startled. "OH...!"

"Drop it," snapped Isabelle. "All of it." She gave him a hard look until he raised his hands, complacent.

Jonathan straightened, toweling his hair.

"But Simon And Clary are—"

"Jace."

"And Jonathan is—"

"Jace!"

"Alec, You've—"

"JACE!" They all shouted. "SHUT IT!"

He did.

Clary slumped in the big armchair of the hotel lobby in Portland. She was beyond exhausted. Over the last week, she'd made countless portals to different places around the world. At her mothers side, she'd been to Paris, Dubai, London, Delhi, Bangkok, Dublin, Stockholm, Johannesburg, Shanghai, New York, Berlin, Los Angeles, Huston, And, finally, Portland. Most places they'd stayed less than a couple of hours. They'd gotten on taxis, buses, and ferries, walked countless miles through busy streets, even biked across cities.

Portaling was tired work. Clary felt ready to pass out. The iratze and energy runes she'd given herself in passing weren't working anymore.

Jocelyn stood at the check-in desk of the hotel, talking briskly to the well dressed desk attendant. He was nodding as she spoke, typing occasionally with rapid-fire fingers. As was her now usual fashion, the woman was dressed in slacks and a blazer, her hair wrapped up in a tight bun. Not a single hair was out of place, amazing as they'd swept through a portal and into the rain less than five minutes before. As if feeling her daughters gaze on her, Jocelyn turned and gave Clary a quick smile before turning to say something to the man. Well, he was more of a boy—an older teen, Clary thought. No facial hair, still round-faced with big eyes. He looked a bit like Alec, actually.

The hotel was nice, nearing fancy, settled firmly on upscale. Probably five stars. The bellmen were all in snappy suits that resembled those used in marching bands, but dark green and gold.

Clary pulled her cell phone from her pocket. She'd been given it back two days before. A rune on the back made it untraceable, but still useable. She'd turned off her Read Receipts so she could read the messages without the senders knowing. Her father, brother, boyfriend, and friends had all been texting her. She hasn't responded, but it made her feel better that they were still looking for her. They were clearly hoping she'd steal the phone from her mother and call for help. She hadn't, though she'd wanted to. The only texts she'd responded to were from her mother.

Her stele was now permanently in her possession, as was a variety of seraph blades, and her wallet, which was stuffed full of money from multiple countries. Her passport was in her back pocket, though she hadn't needed it. Her drivers license was in her front pocket with switchblade she'd found on the subway.

Jocelyn was suddenly in front of her, saying something that Clary wasn't understanding, and she realized her mother must have been standing there for a while before she noticed.

"... and then he starts going on about room services and amenities and—"

"Mom," Clary said, cutting her off. "My energy rune is fading and I think I have four and a half minutes before I pass out."

Jocelyn blinked once. Twice. "Right. Of course. Do you need help standing?"

"I can walk," she insisted. Barely.

When she got to the room, she felt the last of the energy rune fading away. The second the door was open, she pushed past her mother, ran to the closest bed, and was out before she touched the mattress.

Jocelyn stared at her daughter for a long moment before shaking her head and dropping her bag on the floor and closing the door. She went over to Clary and began removing things from her pockets. Stele, seraph blades, switchblade, passport, wallet, drivers license—this surprised her a little, since she hadn't let Clary drive before. Her father must have taught her. Off came the backback, covered in enamel pins and fraying patches. Shoes were placed at the foot of the bed. Jacket was hung by the door. Mass of red curls went into a long braid so it didn't tangle in sleep. Then, she picked her up and laid her on her back, pulling the turned down blanket up to her chest. Jocelyn applied an iratze to the sleeping girls shoulder.

Then, after a moment of watching her chest rise and fall, Jocelyn left the room soundlessly.

"You've been on quite the adventure," the young man said, leaning against the wall outside the room. His arms were crossed, and there was a stiffness to his casual stance that instantly set Jocelyn on edge. He looked different, almost unrecognizable from the last time she'd seen him. After a moment, she saw how he truly looked, and realized he had glamoured himself so strongly that she'd actually needed to concentrate to pierce the illusion.

"How did you get here?" She demanded. "I didn't call you."

He laughed. "As if you have to. Do you honestly think that I wouldn't be able to find her wherever she is?" He shook his head. "After everything..."

Her eyebrows rose. "And you don't mention this until now...why?"

"I thought by now it would be obvious."

"Has the Clave noticed?"

"The Clave wouldn't notice something important if it slapped their ass and call them baby."

Jocelyn made a face. "Don't be crude."

"How is she?"

"Exhausted. All of the portaling has taken its toll on her. She's asleep."

"And? Is she coming around?"

Jocelyn shook her head. "No, I don't think so. I believe she may be planning to double cross me, but I can't read her. She acts as though she is enraptured, but I see the defiance in her eyes."

"And yet she has not called for help?"

"No. No messages or calls or anything from her phone."

"And yet you have doubts."

"I can't explain it."

"I think you're just paranoid, Jocelyn. She hasn't run, she hasn't called, and she portrays a genuine interest in your work. If you ask me—"

"I haven't—"

"It looks like you don't even want her to join you."

"That's ridiculous. Of course I do."

"And yet you believe with no cause that she has an ulterior motive." He shook his head and laughed. "You're so caught in your own paranoia that you can't even trust your own daughter, who you desperately wanted at your side. She is now. Why is that not enough for you? Aside from the obvious."

"I'm being cautious."

"Whatever helps you sleep at night. If you're so worried about it, why not give her a test? Have her do something that she would not do if she weren't on your side." A buzzing sound made him grimace. "That would be the others calling me back."

"I will call you."

"Of course."

Then, the young man did something that no one had ever done in the history of the world. He opened a portal, and stepped through into Alicante.

Jocelyn stood in the hall for a long time, staring at where the young man had disappeared, long after the portal had followed him. She wondered if Clary would me able to make such a portal, if she was powerful enough.

She quickly dismissed the thought. Of course she could. Clary was the most powerful of all her experiments. She was perfect.

So why was she doubtful?

Clary had followed her direction to a T, accepted her gifts of trust, and not yet given any indication that she would cross her. It was clear that she missed her friends, her brother, her father, yet she had not contacted them—not even a fire message!

So why did she hesitate to trust her?

Jocelyn sighed and went back into the room. Clary hadn't moved.

Perhaps the biggest question was why she trusted the boy, but not Clary. She didn't know.