Good day, readers!

Once again, a big thank you for the favorites and follows!

So, without further interruptions from my long-winded typing, here is chapter 4!

Disclaimer: Cassandra Clare is the owner of TMI and all its characters.

I just own the sarcastic blonde girl that argues with the sarcastic blonde boy.

"Jace, let's go. Hodge said we have to find her."

"No, he didn't," Jace argued, "He said we could."

"You know just as well as I do if she isn't a mundane, then she may be in danger. It's our job." I reminded him, and he sighed.

I was sitting at the edge of his bed (in the evening, I may add), shaking his shoulder repeatedly, but he refused to move.

"Look on the bright side, she's pretty," I pointed out, though it stung to say the words out loud. Of course she was pretty.

And that was Jace's type: pretty.

He muttered something along the lines of "I've seen prettier," And I leaned an ear towards him.

"What?"

"I said she's too short," He lied, and I raised an eyebrow, but he didn't notice, as his eyes were closed.

"Come on, Jace-"

"Nikki, Alec and Iz don't even want her here. You don't even want her here. So why are you trying to be Maryse?" He asked, and my eyes narrowed.

"Because she's the only mother I've ever had, dumbass. And if I have a chance to do something she would approve of, I'm going to take it." I snapped, and Jace finally poked his head out from under the covers, his eyes serious.

"I didn't mean-"

"Jace," I interrupted, "You and I both know this girl isn't a mundane. And if she's a Shadowhunter, which would be odd, we still would be obligated to help her."

"And if she's a Downworlder?"

I sighed. "We would still need to help her. Though it is almost impossible she is a Downworlder, just saying."

"Fine," Jace groaned, "Would you like to stay and watch me get dressed, too, Ms. Bellefleur?"

I was out the door in record timing, and I could hear Jace's laughter as I ran down the hallway towards my room.

Once I emerged from my bathroom, fully dressed in black jeans, a black shirt, my boots, and my leather jacket, Jace was leaning against my bedroom door, watching me with little interest.

I raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"I don't know how you're Isabelle's parabatai," He commented, "You wear far too little makeup."

I glanced back at the mascara brush on the counter. "Well I'm sorry if my boring façade isn't enough to satisfy you."

"You are many things, Nikki, but boring isn't one of them." He said it with an amused smirk, but there was a ringing truth in his words that made me feel oddly touched.

"Let's get moving," I said, and he nodded, holding the door open for me to walk through before he shut it behind us.

"Isabelle and Alec aren't coming, just to let you know," He stated, and I sighed, shaking my head as we walked out of the Institute.

"I wasn't expecting them to come to begin with."

"I can't exactly blame them," Jace said, matching my stride, "I didn't want to come, either."

I ignored him. "Did you put on a glamour?"

He grinned at me. "If people could see me, I guarantee they would be looking."

I laughed. "Fair point. Besides, Jace, I thought you would have been pleased, coming to find the girl."

Jace raised an eyebrow. "Why would you think that?"

"It just sounds like something you'd be interested in. Tracking down the pretty girl, making her fall for you." I nudged his arm playfully, and a smile was tugging at his lips, but he shook his head.

"Nah, not really my type. Short and redheaded."

"So what is your type, Mr. Wayland?"

He glanced over at me, grinning. "Tall, blonde, tan, and beautiful."

"If you are describing yourself, I will kill you."

He placed a hand over his heart, feigning hurt. "I've been wounded. I am trying to be a charming gentleman complimenting a beautiful lady, and you interpret my ways as self-benefiting."

"Because they are self-benefiting."

"Possibly. But you are beautiful, whether you choose to admit it." He said this casually, and I prayed he didn't notice the grin that was threatening to spread across my face.

"You said Java Jones, right?" Jace asked suddenly, and I glanced up at the coffee shop before us.

"Yes sir."

We slipped through the door, and after a quick glimpse around the small little room, I spotted a head of fiery red hair that I recognized.

Jace motioned towards a sofa against the wall, and I sat on the end, my feet propped up over Jace's shoulder when he sat down.

He glanced at the heel of my boots fearfully. "I don't think I want that near my face."

I looked at my shoe innocently. "You'll be fine, it's only six inches."

Jace smirked. "You don't want to know the 'six inch' jokes going through my head right now, I promise you."

I shuddered at the thought. "No, I really, really don't."

The redheaded girl, Clary, was talking to her friend while the odd teenager at the front continued gagging out deformed poetry, and Jace and I shared a look that resembled fear.

"What the f-"

"Did we get ourselves into?" I finished, cutting off his most likely cruel language.

Not that I didn't use it myself, but still.

Be nice near mundanes.

"Mundanes are the most disturbing creatures I have ever witnessed," Jace proclaimed, and I rolled my eyes.

"Us Shadowhunters are pretty disturbing ourselves."

"You make a strong case, Bellefleur."

"Well that's the goal."

"What are they saying?" Jace asked finally, and we leaned forward to listen in to the mundane's conversation.

"Never mind that for a second," The guy, Simon, I thought I'd heard, said. "There's something I wanted to talk to you about."

"Furious Mole is not a good name for a band," Clary said quickly, and Jace had a look on his face that made me choke back laughter.

"Not that," The boy shook his head. "It's about what we were talking about before. About me not having a girlfriend."

"Surprise, surprise," I muttered, and when Jace looked over at me I clapped a hand over my mouth. "I didn't say that!"

"Oh, you did," Jace grinned, "You are just like me, aren't you?"

"By the Angel I hope not."

"I don't want to ask her out because it wouldn't really be fair to her if I did…" Simon was saying, and I turned to Jace.

"She does know he's madly in love with her, right?"

"I don't believe so. Hey, maybe that's why we're supposed to help her."

I rolled my eyes. "By playing matchmaker for her and her best friend? Because I'm already trying to find Isabelle a steady boyfriend."

"You of all people should know 'Isabelle' and 'commitment' will never go in the same sentence."

I sighed. "She's got her reasons," I muttered under my breath, and he looked at me curiously, but I ignored him.

"So, who is it, then?" Clary asked finally, and Jace coughed to hide a laugh, while I just covered my mouth, giggling slightly.

The girl looked over her shoulder, and her eyes widened in surprise when she saw us. Her gaze took in our dark attire and the few weapons we had on us with curiosity, and I winked at her as Jace waved, before the two of us walked out of the shop.

Jace stopped by the brick wall, leaning against it, and I joined him, standing at his side.

"We have such swagger," I approved, and he smirked.

"We're Shadowhunters, darling. It's what we do."

"Most Shadowhunters I know don't walk with cool swagger as much as they walk with stiff… constipation."

Jace snorted. "Good point. You have your ex Ryan in mind?"

"Pretty much."

At that moment Clary burst through the door, and she looked surprised to see us out there.

Okay, Bellefleur, try for conversation. "Your friend's poetry is quite horrifying, you know." I commented, and she blinked in surprise.

"What?"

"It sounds like he ate a dictionary and started vomiting up words at random." Jace offered, and I rolled my eyes at him.

"I don't care about Eric's poetry." Clary was furious. "I want to know why you're following me."

I smiled innocently. "We were following you?"

"Yes. And you were eavesdropping, too. Do you want to tell me what this is about, or should I just call the police?"

"And tell them what? That invisible people are bothering you?" Jace sighed, shaking his head. "Trust me, little girl, the police aren't going to arrest someone they can't see."

"I told you before, my name is not little girl," Clary argued. "It's Clary."

"It's a pretty name," I commented. "Like clary sage."

"In the old days people thought eating the seeds would let you see the Fair Folk. Did you know that?" Jace asked, and I gave him a warning look.

"I have no idea what you're talking about." Clary sighed.

"You don't know much, do you?" Jace asked, amused. "You seem to be a mundane like any other mundane, yet you can see us. It's a conundrum."

"What's a mundane?"

"Someone from the human world," I answered quietly, examining my nails. I may not be much like Jace, but I still put on the same façade that he did.

"But you're human," Clary protested.

"We are. But we aren't like you." Jace said, bored.

"You think you're better. That's why you were laughing at us."

Ooh, ouch. And the problem was, she may be right. "We were laughing," I glanced at Jace, "Because declarations of love amuse him, especially when unrequited."

I made the comment sound casual, though there was something in the words I said that made my chest sting.

And Jace seemed to notice.

"And because your Simon is one of the most mundane mundanes I think we've ever encountered. And because Hodge thought you might be dangerous, but if you are, you certainly don't know it." Jace's gaze flickered to mine.

"I'm dangerous?" Clary repeated, disbelieving. "I saw you kill someone last night. I saw you drive a knife into him, and—"

"And what? You saw him try to kill me too, right?" I asked, and Jace's hand, which was holding a Sensor for reasons I didn't know, tightened slightly, as if he were aching to have a weapon fill its place.

"We may be killers," Jace continued, "But we know what we are. Can you say the same?"

"I'm an ordinary human. And it doesn't matter what he did, you killed him. You're cold-blooded killers." Clary's gaze flickered to mine, and I scoffed.

"As opposed to peace-loving killers? Because I am none of the above, darling. I am merely an adrenaline-seeking killer, completely different."

"I wouldn't be so quick to brand myself as ordinary, if I were you. Let me see your right hand." Jace leaned towards Clary, who looked confused.

"My right hand?" Jace nodded. "If I let you see my hand, will you leave me alone?"

"Probably not." I interrupted, and Clary looked over at me as she handed Jace her hand, her eyes filled with curiosity as she looked over my skin that was covered in runes, and…

Was that envy?

Jace turned her hand over, his brow furrowing. There was no rune.

"Are you left-handed?" I asked, and she shook her head.

"Most Shadowhunter children get Marked on their right hands—or left, if they're left-handed like Nikki and I—when they're still young. It's a permanent rune that lends an extra skill with weapons."

Jace put his left hand out for her to see, but from her blank expression, she didn't see it. "I don't see anything," Clary huffed.

"Jace-"

"Let your mind relax," he suggested. "Wait for it to come to you. Like waiting for something to rise to the surface of water."

I narrowed my eyes at him. I wasn't sure she was a Shadowhunter. I knew she wasn't a mundane, but the more that happened, the more I doubted she was like us.

Or at least, I hoped. A mundane was not useful Shadowhunter material.

"You're crazy," Clary commented, but her eyes focused, and suddenly she blinked in surprise. "A tattoo?"

I grinned. "Nice ink, huh?"

"Don't listen to her," Jace's voice was filled with a touching affection, "They're Marks, called runes. We burn them into our skin, and they do different things."

"It's nearly full dark, Jace." I interrupted suddenly. "We should go."

"You mean the two of you, right?"

"No, not really. Hodge told us to bring you with us."

"Why would he want that?"

"Because you know the truth, sweetheart," I said lightly. "And besides, I don't think you're a mundane."

Clary ignored the last part. "The truth about you guys? People who believe in demons?"

"People who kill them," Jace corrected. "We're called Shadow-hunters. At least, that's what we call ourselves. The Downworlders have less complimentary names for us."

"Very true," I commented, and Jace nodded.

Clary's phone rang, and I motioned for her to answer it. She dug through her purse, and she grabbed it, putting it to her ear.

"Mom?"

Sorry to leave it kind of abrupt like that, but it picks up in the next chapter.

If you like it, love it, want some more of it, or anything in between, review!

Farewell!

- EasyIsTheDescent