A/N: If you don't follow my instagram or have me on facebook you wouldn't know that I've been in lots of unexplainable pain for the last month or so (I've still uploaded chapters, though) and it's worsened over the past couple of days, I've been to the hospital a number of times, and have had an uncountable number of needles sucking out my blood and so on so fourth, and still no answer as to what is wrong with me. So, yeah that's why this chapter is delayed and I am in no condition to write anymore of this post-chapter-A/N due to my desperate need of rest, so no shoutouts but I just want to thank you reviews and those who have favourited and followed. I love you all and I hope you enjoy where this is going. Thank you. (Proper and more important AN at end of chapter.) By the way, there are mistakes in this chapter, but I am in no condition to re-read for the time being, sorry.
Chapter 4: Questions
"Another fire message just came." Alec spoke softly, handing Jace the opened letter, "It's from Magnus Bane, the Warlock. He's coming here to speak with you." Alec spoke while Jace read the single statement and signature on the golden paper.
"Why? Is it urgent?" Isabelle asked, she got up from one of the libraries leather couches.
"Apparently so." Jace said, pulling his golden hair back out of his face.
Before Alec could reply, a flash of blue spat through the room as a figure stood in front of one of the large bookshelves.
"Jonathan Christopher Herondale, it's been a while." Magnus Bane's voice echoed through the library with a fierce tone to it.
"…And for the last ten years, I've had to put up with your lousy jokes, your sleep talking—"
"Says the one who snores their head off every night." Clary spun her eyes round, sarcasm rolling off her tongue. They were walking on a bridge in a small park near the orphanage; they stopped in the center of it, leaning against the railing, staring into their reflections in the murky water below.
"Hey, not fair. I blame genetics, maybe my birth parents were serious snorers, you never know. Oh, and by the way, Susanne wants us to pick up, and I quote, 'Bread, milk—" Simon began, Clary cut him off.
"—Butter, sugar, eggs, all the necessities in a household of children who cannot equally share food.'"
"How is it you don't have a clue as to who you were before you came to the orphanage but you can remember all that?"
"I do have a clue," Clary pulled out the chain she always wore which held onto a ring, the only clue she has to her past, a fairly thick ring with the letter 'M' engraved on a navy blue plate, accompanied by two stars on either side.
"Little Miss Clary, it's time to take your place in life." Simon looked at his reflection, then to Clary's.
"My place is right here." She said firmly, staring at her red hair which looked significantly darker in the reflection, it was only 2 in the afternoon yet the sun refused to come out.
"What do you see?" Simon asked, slightly moving closer to Clary.
"I see a skinny little nobody with no past, and no future." She mumbled, looking away from the water.
"I see a short, yet pretty young lady who I'm about to take to Java Jones because this certain red-head looks like she's about to fall asleep." And, she doesn't get that I really do think she is beautiful, inside and out.
Clary sighed, "Oh god, please do."
"I don't get why you're asking Jace about Clarissa, you know it's a bad day, for all of us." Alec spoke directly to Magnus, Jace sat slumped on a couch with his arms crossed, clearly not in the mood.
"It's just one simple question." The warlock stated.
"A simple question that I have been asked about fifty times. You were there in the Gard when I held the Mortal Sword, you heard everything I know." Jace finally faced the warlock, directing his words to the tall glittering figure.
"But, Jonathan, the Inquisitor did not ask for all the details." Magnus replied, calmly brushing down his dark purple pants as he sat down on a couch opposite to Jace.
"God, Clary I'm so sorry, I totally spaced out about the job interview and—"
"Don't worry about it, you have like 5 minutes to get there, so go. I'll find my way back home." Clary smiled at Simon and cupped her hands around the warm mug of coffee. They sat in Java Jones for hours, contemplating the meaning of life and possible scenarios in which resulting in an apocalypse, typical.
"You sure?" Simon asked, his glasses covered by his fast-growing brown hair, his dark eyes only just peaking through.
"Yes, Simon. Go."
"Alright, see you later, Clary." In the space of a few seconds, Simon was out the door speeding down the street. Clary couldn't help but chuckle at her absent-minded best friend.
"As I've stated multiple times, Clarissa and I were aiming for the New York Institute, we were about to go through the portal when Valentine appeared and she began to walk backwards. Then…" Jace trailed off, not realizing the emotions he gathered up while speaking of Clarissa, he straightened up his posture and coughed out a more serious tone, "She fell, letting go of my hand, I think she hit her head—"
"That's all I needed." Magnus said, bowing his head.
"Good, because I'm getting out of here." Jace shot up out of the leather couch, dismissing himself before he left the institute and let his feet guide him.
Clary walked slowly, her head looking down at a 'Battle of the Bands' flier that was handed to her by a rather cute boy in Java Jones. Not noticing her surroundings, she bumped into something tall, something bulky.
"Better watch where you're going—What is that smell?" The voice was low and musky, Clary looked up and saw that the man that she bumped into her was dressed in old clothing, his eyes looked dog-like. "The smell of angel offspring, do my senses deceive me or is this a Shadowhunter?"
"I'm sorry, sir, for bumping into you." Clary's voice shook as she tried to get passed the large man, but the man pushed Clary into the alleyway they previously stood next to, she hit the floor with such force it made her dizzy, she couldn't speak, it knocked the voice out of her.
"I'm sure you already know who I am. A little girl like you, a Shadowhunter, shouldn't be out alone with no protection or weapons, aye?"
Clary gathered up her voice, "I don't know who you are, I don't know what a shadow hunter is."
At that, the large man laughed and approached the small sloping figure on the ground.
Clary sat there, completely defenseless and the man brushed his fingers against her face. His fingernails looked like claws, his hands were covered in hair, fur maybe. Clary's breath shook, her mind spun.
"I'll—I'll call the police." Clary pushed back, sliding further away from the man and her back hit the cold brick wall as she drew out her phone.
The man was too fast; he kicked her phone out of her hands.
"I wonder what the clave would you if they find a dead Shadowhunter girl in the streets of Brooklyn, especially with the rumors about Valentine." The man pulled his lips back, exposing wolf-like teeth. Clary closed her eyes; there was nothing else she could do. She was preparing for death, as the man released a dog-like growl and she felt a burning sensation spread across her face.
Jace found himself in Brooklyn, he didn't know how, but he didn't care. All he thought of was Clarissa, if she was still alive, would they be friends? They never talked, Jace was always nervous around that girl, he always wanted to talk to her but never knew how, he was only seven when he rescued her from the burning city of Idris, that was one of the only times he actually spoke to her. It was strange, how he wasn't necessarily her good friend, yet he took the loss worse than every other death he had encountered, not counting his parents death. He grumbled to himself, cursing as he turned the corner and entered another street. He hated this feeling, this feeling of regret and loss; he didn't like feeling of vulnerability, being insecure.
Jace stopped in his tracks once he noticed something out of the ordinary in the somewhat empty street. A redheaded girl bump into a large man, Jace knew immediately who this man was. Damon Kitara, Werewolf gone rogue, wanted for several accounts of murder, both Shadowhunter and Mundane victims.
Jace began to run once he saw what happened next, Damon threw the girl into the nearby alleyway, and pounced on her, still in human form.
Jace was a fast runner, not to mention the runes he used to achieve most of the speed but marked up or not, if he needed to get somewhere, he got there. Jace stood in the opening of the alleyway, briefly examining the scene. The redheaded girl was the same girl he and his siblings picked up yesterday. Damon said something, inaudible to Jace, the Lycanthrope was about to pounce on the girl when Jace threw himself at the creature and pulled it back, Damon only managing to scratch the girls face. The girl let out a yelp as she threw her hands to her face, eyes still closed.
Clary's heart raced as she opened her eyes to see the blonde boy from this morning, Jace was his name, throw a dagger at the wolf-man and stand back, watching the attacker cry for mercy before he stopped completely and his face fell to the floor.
Clary, slowly yet shakily, climbed up from her sitting position, her back still plastered to the wall. She watched Jace pull out his phone, text somebody in lightening fast speed, and then he looked straight at Clary.
He looked different from when she saw him that morning, his eyes looked less tense then; he looked like he had been crying. Clary found Jace to be strangely attractive, and he looked more familiar now. The boy approached her, not saying a word, he put his phone back into his pocket and took out his stele, Clary not knowing what it is.
"This might hurt, only a little, though." His voice sounded like a forced caress, soft but rock solid, hard to describe yet so simple. He had a British accent, she noted, Clary always thought that herself had a slight bit of a English accent.
"Who…are you?" Her brows furrowed as the object he held to her arm lit up slightly as it touched her skin, she hissed as it stung slightly, at the same time it felt somewhat pleasurable, the strange pain was comforting in a way, familiar also.
"I believe we've met already, Miss Runaway."
"Yes, I know. But, really, what are you? Why do I keep getting attacked and its you who seems to save me?" She dismissed the pain on her arm as she looked into the boys amber eyes.
"I'm a Shadowhunter, like yourself. And, as for the second question, I'm honestly not quite sure," Jace completed the iratze and put the stele back into his jean pocket.
"What is it?" She asked, looking at her left forearm, where a swirling pattern took its place with a ring of tense skin surrounded it.
"At first I thought you were joking, pretending to be a Shadowhunter in the Mundane world. But, I'm starting to believe that you are in fact totally oblivious to what you truly are."
"Okay, this, this is getting to a point where I think I'm loosing my head." Clary pushed away from Jace and began to walk out of the alleyway, but stopped once she realized what he had hinted, that he might know of her past. She turned around, to face the boy who looked almost bored to be there.
"Not running away this time?" Jace sarcastically queried.
"I have some questions." Clary replied.
"I, too, have some questions, starting off with your name; what is it?"
A/N: So, I've been kinda questioning the direction in this chapter, I don't know if you will like it or not…But, yeah that's that.
QUICK POLL QUESTION/S THAT I REALLY NEED YOU TO ANSWER:
Would you like Hodge to know immediately who Clary really is but then be on Valentine's side like in TMI? Or would you like Jace to know first?
(I worded those questions carefully so it wouldn't giveaway the plot, so don't start with your conspiracy theories…yet.)
Please, please Review! I've been feeling not quite up to par lately (If you read the start of this chapter you would know why) and so I need some encouragement to actually do things. I love you all, thankyou so much for everything.
-E
