chapter 4; promises
Jace couldn't contain the cry of bewilderment that escaped his mouth when he saw a book materialize itself out of thin air and into Clary's hands.
He'd been roaming the corridors, not being able to sleep, and had been walking past Clary's room when he heard muttering. Pushing open the door a crack, he found Clary kneeling on the floor and whispering to herself. At first, Jace thought she'd gone crazy, then he considered some sort of voodoo ritual, before settling for possible witchcraft. Confused and tired, he decided to ask her about it the next morning, and had turned to leave when he heard Clary whisper the Angel's name:
"Raziel."
Jace froze in his tracks. As he turned, he noticed he wasn't the only one who had recognized the name: Clary's stele had lit up and elongated itself on her nightstand. Except that was impossible, because steles were issued by the Clave, and the Clave refused to use Raziel's name for weapons. He had frowned some more, but stayed put for the better part of an hour, fascinated by the glowing dagger and Clary's concentrated face. What is she thinking about? Jace had wondered, but this thought was quickly dismissed when Clary opened her eyes.
At first she looked confused, dazed, and bewildered, and she'd looked around the room as if she were looking for something.
And then a fucking book appeared out of fucking nowhere into Clary's hands.
"What the fuck?" was what came out, and though it wasn't necessarily the best way to say "Hi, Clary, I noticed you were muttering so I opened your door and heard you say the Angel's name, at which point your dagger lit up, and I'm really sorry to have infringed your privacy but would you mind explaining to me how that book just appeared out of nowhere and into your hands, and how you have a dagger that recognizes Raziel's name?", but given the circumstances it would have to do.
Clary stared up at him for a moment, a confused expression on her face. Her emerald eyes were barely discernible in the darkness, yet Jace could tell they were glazed over. Her hair had fallen limp on her head, and for an instant she looked like the Clary he had once known, with a confused and distant expression in her eyes, insecure and lost. Then it was gone, replaced with an exhausted expression that was soft and hard at the same time. She noiselessly got up and dropped the book on her bedside table.
"What are you doing here, Jace?" she sighed, turning away from him as she opened her closet. She pulled on a black spandex sweater over her tank-top and pajama shorts, an pulled her hair back into a pony tail. Jace shook his head and ignored her question, his eyes still on her notebook.
"How the heck did that just happen?" He asked, incredulous, as he gestured from the notebook, to Clary, and back to the notebook. "That did not just happen. Tell me that did not just happen!"
Clary shot him a wary look from over her shoulder as she grabbed a pair of running sneakers from her closet, shutting the big oak doors. She quickly pulled them on and tied the laces, as Jace continued to stare at the notebook, flabbergasted.
"I'll see you later, Jace," she said finally, pushing past him and opening the door. She paused, and turned around to shoot him a glare."From now on, if you could refrain from breaking into my room late at night, that'd be greatly appreciated."
She then exited the room, out into the hallway, and Jace found himself starring blankly into an empty room for a minute or so before he ran out of the doors, in hot pursuit of the fiery redhead who had some major explaining to do.
-x-
It was late, or maybe it was really early in the morning, but Clary didn't care - all she knew was that it was nighttime. As she pushed open the heavy doors of the institute and sprang out into the night, she could only think of one thing: getting as far away from Jace.
She knew when she first arrived in New York that hiding her secrets would be difficult. She knew she'd have to come up with some sort of excuse, something better than "I'm here on a reconnaissance mission from the Clave!". Simon had bought it up willingly enough, but that hadn't made Clary any happier. Simon had always been able to read her like an open book, and the thought that she had become so used to lying that she'd got it passed her best friend hurt immensely. What was worse, Clary hated lying, even if she'd become relatively good at it. She definitely hadn't expected it to be so hard with Jace.
She thought he wouldn't have changed in three years since she last saw him, and at first his actions had confirmed her suspicions. Only Jace would be stupid and egocentric enough to fondle another girl in Clary's new bed. And yet...
Her mind flew back to her conversation with Jace earlier in the evening, when he had walked back with her to the Institute. She'd never, ever found Jace a particularly easy person to talk to, even back when they were dating. She'd always had to think about what she was saying, and how she was going to say it. But last night was different. It was almost as though her mouth was talking without the help of her mind.
"Besides, they like my rune abilities. I'm going to write a book for them with new runes in it in a year or two, after I -"
Clary's feet accelerated almost of their own accord, as if Clary's body was trying to outrun the unwanted memory that had surged into her mind. Her sneakers pounded the asphalt as she pushed herself harder.
She couldn't believe she had almost told him about her job, her duty to Raziel. She definitely had not trained and lied for this long to have everything fall apart because of Jace. It wasn't that she loved him, or was even attracted to him, it was just that he was so good damn easy to talk to, and that scared her. She didn't think she could face him right now, not without divulging everything she had worked so hard to keep a secret.
Clary heard heavy footsteps behind her as her name was called out:
"Clary!"
She gasped involuntarily and took off sprinting, sweat forming on her barely clad body. She had to think, and fast. She was quick on her feet, she knew that, but Jace was faster. She had a good 100m lead on him, but he would catch up to her soon. Oh god, oh god, oh god...
Her eyes zeroed in on a fire-escape that lead up to the roof of an old townhouse. No lights were on inside. In her mind, something clicked, and Clary deviated from the sidewalk, grabbing hold of the banister and hoisting herself up on the stairs. She ran up, three stairs at a time, climbing up the three floors until she reached the roof.
She glanced behind her and saw Jace grab onto the same banister as she had. He was quick, she had to give him that, but she could do something he couldn't. Taking off full speed, she heard the stairs creak as Jace jumped off the railing and landed on the roof. The edge of the building was fast approaching, and Clary mentally counted down the steps till she reached the end of the roof. Five. Four. Three. Two. One.
On the last step Clary pushed her left leg up in the air as far as it would go, and swung her right foot higher. She found herself soaring over the three-meter gap between the first and second building, her knees bent forward, her back bent over, her arms outstretched as though trying to touch her toes. Time seemed to slowm down as she focused on her landing spot, a clear patch of gravel beside another fire escape. Again, she counted down. Three. Two. One.
She landed with a loud thud on the ground, her arms outstretched, bracing the fall, and she rolled over as she swiveled to face Jace. For a moment, she locked eyes with him. Then, without a second to lose, she sprang up and over the fire escape, landing on the second-floor landing and taking off down the stairs and onto the street.
She paused to catch her breath, opening her sweater and taking it off, tying it around her waist. She wiped her knees that were now scratched and red from her landing. Taking a deep breath, she began to run again, heading down the busy road, passing shops and partygoers.
Out of the corner of her eye she spotted a small, but open café, and stopped. Pushing open the brightly lit store, she walked in and ordered a coffee, pulling the sweater around her shoulders. The waitress looked at her sweaty and scratched appearance and raised an eyebrow, pouring her a glass of black coffee. Clary sighed as she grabbed the mug between her hands.
God, she thought, taking a sip of the black liquid, what have I gotten myself into?
Closing her eyes, she savored the bitter drink as it rolled off her tongue and down her throat. She didn't see the man in the corner of the room, eyeing her with a peculiar and calculating. She didn't see as he opened his phone as spoke a quiet two sentences into the phone either, his mouth twitching, but she did hear him, his voice a slight murmur in the back of her mind.
"Get to the Black Café, Allan street. I found a shadowhunter without a weapon."
yay fourth chapter :)
so Allan street is real, its in New York...I made up the café, though :S
disclaimer: officially disclaimed, the character/original story isn't mine, but Cassandra Clare's :)
note: I know I said I'd explain the closed-eye light/colour thing next chapter, but the chapter was so long so I cut it in three. So it's not going to be the next chapter, but the one after that :( Sorry. I'll update the next two soon, maybe even later today if I have the time, because next week I'm probably going to be really busy. Actually, I'm trying to update as much as I can now because I have an easy week today, but that's not going to be the case soon and...
Yeah :)
review?
