Chapter Four

"And There's More"

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Clary smiled at the prospect of this. She entered the shower with Sebastian then, water pounding hard on both of their bodies, making them glisten.

She stood in front of him, making soft sounds of pleasure as he reached his hands over her thin shoulders, stroking her pale, smooth breasts, and finally bit down on her nipples.

No wonder she wanted him.

He inched in his fingers, one by one, the way he knew she liked them. The index at first, making her gasp, then another...and another...until she was riding all four, and he was rubbing her clit wondrously. She came almost immediately.

Next, he kissed her, and as the water hit them like rain cascading down, he lifted her, leaned himself against the wall, and thrust into her harder than ever.

She rested her chin contentedly on his shoulder. There was nothing better than the feel of him in her, moving in and out.

But again, Sebastian wasn't satisfied with her reaction. Yes, she was meeting his thrusts with her hips eagerly, but he wanted more. He wanted her to beg, wanted her spent, wanted her screaming for him.

Swiftly switching positions, he removed himself temporarily. Clary moaned at this, and he felt the need down there ache for the feel of her around him as well. Nevertheless, he pressed her against the wall (wondering why he didn't think of doing this before) and moved inside her, harder and harder and harder and harder. Clary screamed, "Sebastian!", but he continued in the same manner, as relentlessly as before, as her body bent, pliant and expecting, and she struggled to meet with his thrusts.

"Beg for me," he said with gritted teeth, pushing in hard.

"I...I want you...Sebastian!"

"That's not good enough," he said with a smirk, and slowed down a bit, then altogether. The feel of him in her yet unmoving in her already turned on entrance forced Clary to yell, "SEBASTIAN! FUCK ME NOW!"

"Better," he whispered, and he went on, as roughly as ever. He felt the tightening of her muscles-the familiar clenching which he loved-as she came, moaning, riding out her orgasm the best she could. But he wasn't finished yet. Hell, he was going to continue doing this even if it killed him.

Pinning her hands with one of his on the wall, he thrust in more and more, never having left her. She screamed his name, over and over again, as she came for a second, third, fourth, and fifth time. Her voice catches, wracked with pleasure and exhaustion, as he finally lets her go, after she comes a six time and he colors her insides with the whiteness of his seed.

Panting, she lets her stand. There are marks on her thighs, bite marks he didn't even remember making, and she is leaking again. Despite all these, he felt an intense pride. She'd scratched him so many times on his back, and she'd managed to come all those times. Sebastian grinned at the thought of what she could do and kissed her hard.

"I'm sorry, love."

"It's okay. I told you, I kinda like it," Clary said sheepishly, still exhausted.

Sebastian switched off the shower. Clary looked mournful, as she expected the dream to end, which made Sebastian's heart skip a beat. Maybe, just maybe, she loved the demon in him after all...

...but he would have to resign himself to the fact that he would always come second to angel boy.

He wondered then, if she would ever let him be her first. Her real first. Not the stupid substitute these special dreams had.

"Clary," he murmured, stroking her face, "I'm going to tell you my exact location now."

Clary's eyes widened. "For real?"

"Yes," Sebastian replied hoarsely. "And don't tell me which side you're on. I don't want to know," he added, fully aware of the fact that despite what they did to each other, here, safe in dreams and not reality, he wasn't who she really wanted. Because she wanted angel boy. Jace. He tried not to be jealous.

Clary, meanwhile, was nodding. "Okay. Okay."

Sebastian sighed. "I'm in one of the glass towers of Alicante. Not one of the newer ones. The oldest glass tower. You'll understand, after some research. When you enter it, you'd see it's mostly abandoned, crumbling a bit. But my hideout is directly under there." He paused for breath. "You...you would've liked it."

Clary looked down. She didn't say anything.

He kissed her. "This might be your last dream of me, Clary."

"I..." Clary actually looked pained. Was that possible?

He drew back finally. "See you soon, Clary," he whispered seductively, and the dream fell apart.

Clary awoke with a gasp. She could've sworn she still felt the pressure of him in her. But no. He was...gone.

How could he leave her? And why did she refuse to let him go?

Tears in her eyes, she glanced at the clock. 7 am. Had it been that long?

She quickly brushed her teeth and changed into jeans and a green sweater before walking into the kitchen. Jocelyn and Luke sat there, drinking coffee, eating bagels. An untouched bagel and her favorite chipped mug of black coffee sat in her place on the breakfast table. And despite the fact that she loved black coffee, and she could tell the bagels were the kind she liked-soft and brown and filled with cream cheese-she had no appetite whatsoever for them. She had lost Sebastian, and she was going to betray him. Why were her feelings so complicated?

As if sensing her daughter's stress, Jocelyn looked up abruptly. "You're up early. If you want, you can sleep in, to rest-honey, what's wrong?" she continued, worry on her face.

Luke looked up too, and Clary could see his werewolf teeth, jagged and deadly-looking, emerging out like it did every time he was nervous or when there was danger. "Clary. Are you alright?"

Clary sank into the nearest available chair. "I...I had another dream with Sebastian last night," she admitted, speaking quickly. "He told me his exact location."

Both of her parents stood up in alarm. "You what?" Jocelyn said, turning even more pale than she already was.

"Where is he?" Luke wanted to know. He looked stricken.

"I...he's in...Alicante. In the oldest glass tower. He told me last night. He said his hideout was underneath."

"In the oldest glass tower," Luke repeated. "Clary. Are you sure? I've been there...as a teenager. It was ancient, ruined, crumbling, and dangerous. It's unlikely..."

"I'm sure of it," Clary said firmly.

Jocelyn sighed and put her head in her hands. "This is all my fault," she said. "If I hadn't..."

"It's not your fault, Jocelyn," Luke reassured her confidently. "You couldn't have known..."

"I could have prevented it."

"Now, you know that wouldn't be right," Luke said. "Killing him, despite everything, is just wrong."

Jocelyn sighed again. She looked up, braver this time, but still with sadness and despair in her tone. "We'll have to notify the Clave."

As expected, the next day, a massive meeting was scheduled with the Clave. Shadowhunters from all around the world gathered once more, murmuring, sounding slightly annoyed, about it. Clary felt a bit of anger at this, but then again, she could understand their distress and curiosity. Why were they called again?

The Inquisitor stood in the middle and cleared her throat. "Ahem," she said loudly. Soon, the mutterings ceased.

The Inquisitor took a deep breath and continued. "You have been called today," she said, "because now we know Sebastian's exact whereabouts."

A man at the back yelled, "But how? By some child's dreams?" he sneered. The rest of the Shadowhunters nodded and made noises of approval in assent.

"How do we even know if it's real?" a blond-haired woman demanded.

More mutterings. Clary felt herself deflate. Not even Jace, who was standing beside her, could comfort her. He too, had been informed, but unlike the others he believed her. Of course he did. She was his, and his heart was hers. Clary quickly tried to shake the thought of Sebastian out of her head.

"It's okay, Clary, you don't have to mind them," he whispered. She ignored him.

The Inquisitor continued. "I expected this reaction," she said. "But, I assure you, we have proof."

Proof? Disbelief passed the crowd like a wave.

The Inquisitor took a deep breath. "Yes. Proof," she said. "Colin Carstairs, please step forward."

A man with fine black hair and brown eyes soon came into view, walking very calmly. Clary couldn't help but notice the thick white bandage that was wrapped around almost his entire left hand, like a mummy.

Once Colin was at the center, he took a deep breath. "Friends," he began, "I reside in Idris, and I specialize in the construction of glass towers. Yesterday I received a letter wherein Sebastian told me his hideout. It is in one of the abandoned glass buildings at the edge of Alicante; as proof, he sent a package that I inevitably cut myself with." With a rueful smile, he held up his bandaged hand for all to see. "I have since then examined the glass shard he sent me. Yes, indeed, it is one of the older types of glass. And we must venture with caution to the group of crumbled glass towers-after all, he could be hidden in any one of them."

There was an uproar in the crowd. Whisperings. Murmurs. Clary couldn't take it.

"Silence!" the Inquisitor said, as Colin returned to his seat. "We shall have troops prepared. An attack is scheduled for next week. Sebastian mentioned in the letter that he has allies that we need to be mindful of-demons and such. Of course, why would he tell us all these? It might as well be a trap. Which is why we are only sending the best, and we are enlisting the help of warlock Magnus Bane."

A cry went out through the crowd. Oh, Alec, Clary thought. Her heart went out to him. She could see him in the corner of her eye, looking uncomfortable.

A tall, tan man-well, Clary wouldn't exactly call the High Warlock of Brooklyn a man-stepped into the middle. His hair was gelled up and spiked with electric blue tips, his leather jacket was filled with studs and spikes like the ones that ran up his ears, and his legs were ensconced in glittering pants. His smile was like paper. "I demand a price, of course," he said.

The Inquisitor pursed her lips. "Yes. Very well. We shall discuss those terms later." Clearly she did not enjoy being robbed of her spotlight.

Magnus smiled again, looking more cat-like than ever, and retreated into the shadows.

The Inquisitor turned to them. "This Clave meeting is adjourned," she said with a sigh.

When Clary got home, to her room, she couldn't help but notice something on her arm.

It was not a birthmark, definitely not. She'd never seen it before, and she doubted marks like that could crop up out of the blue.

It was diamond-shaped, with tiny circles, and it was slightly darker than the rest of her skin from where it stood out on her right wrist. Then she noticed the letter on her bed.

To my beloved, it read in script. From Sebastian.

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