It was harder than Will thought it would be to get Tessa alone. Jem was at her side almost constantly, and Will got the feeling that he was trying to protect her from any more seemingly uncalled for attacks on Will's part. Or perhaps Tessa was the one trailing after Jem, meaning to avoid Will. Either way, they were together for the rest of the day, and Will's frustration grew.

Will was currently lingering just around the corner of where Jem and Tessa stood discussing a tapestry. He was not in a good mood. He was prepared to stick his own seraph blade into his heart rather than listen to more of their boring talk of art, and aside from that he felt like an obsessed prowler, lurking in the shadows this way.

He heard footsteps approaching and pressed himself against the wall. He eased his head around the corner so that he could see the newcomer. It was Gideon, his expression still solemn from the accident with Sophie this morning. "Charlotte wishes to speak to us, James," he said, his voice sounding heavy.

Jem offered his arm to Tessa, but Gideon added uncomfortably, "Shadowhunters only, she said."

Jem hesitated a moment, but then he turned to Tessa and murmured, "I'll be right back." Then he turned and walked away with Gideon, muttering softly to him.

Will wouldn't have been terribly surprised if he wasn't invited to this meeting, but he moved quickly just in case. He slipped out of the shadows and strode up to Tessa, who continued to stare unblinkingly at the tapestry she had been admiring with Jem. He used all of his training as a Shadowhunter to move swiftly and silently, so that she never saw him coming when he grabbed her by the shoulders, spun her around, and slammed her against the wall.

Will could not help but notice that her expression didn't change throughout this; she stared at him blankly as he pinned her roughly against the cold wall, as if he hadn't taken her by surprise at all.

"Yes?" she said calmly, infuriating him with the casual way she spoke.

"You're going to tell me about that night," he said in a low voice, wary of drawing attention to them. "Now. Or I'll snap your neck in two."

She smiled faintly at him. "I would like to see you try."

Will was honestly shocked; the real Tessa never would have tested him like this. She would never have guessed him to be bluffing, whether or not he really was; then again, he would not have threatened the real Tessa like this in the first place.

"Tell me," was all he said, pressing his forearm against her throat, not hard enough to cut off her air, but to prove that he meant business.

She continued to look unconcerned. "You have not kept your word," she said softly, looking him right in the eye. He was stricken once again by how her eyes seemed to belong to a stranger, empty of their familiar warmth and compassion and intelligence.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he said, though his stomach sank.

"You have been spreading rumors about me." Tessa smiled sweetly at him, though it did not touch her eyes. "Why can't we just get along, William? There is nothing to fear from me. I will not hurt you or your Shadowhunter friends."

Will shivered as these words came out of Tessa's mouth, sounding so wrong. "Where is Tessa?" he snarled, struggling to pitch his voice low.

She blinked at him. "I am right here."

He pressed against her throat, rage blooming inside his chest. "If you've hurt her," he whispered through gritted teeth, "If you've done anything to her—"

"I did nothing," she whispered back, flat eyes holding his. "Nothing at all to her. I didn't touch a hair on her head."

Will searched her face, searched her for any signs of his Tessa, but it was as if an entirely different person faced him. Which was utterly true, he realized with a jolt. "Tell me where she is."

"I cannot tell you that. But I will tell you about that night, if you agree to stop telling everyone that I am a fake. Including Jem." By the smile that played on her lips, Will knew that she could tell she would get him to keep his mouth shut. "I will let your last misstep slide, but the next time I will not be so lenient."

"Are you threatening me?" Will glared at her and added a bit more pressure to the arm against her neck.

She only smiled and waited. The pressure against her throat seemed to have no effect on her, and after a few more moments Will gave up. "Fine."

"We went for a walk," she said, her voice so soft he had to lean forward to hear her. For a moment he was confused—then he realized with scorn that she meant that she had been with him that night. Why did she continue to act like Will didn't know exactly who she was—or rather, who she wasn't? "It was raining. We went to a bridge."

Will shut his eyes, focusing on the scraps of memory that were starting to emerge. He saw raindrops dotting the road in front of him, felt Tessa's warm presence at his side, her smile flashing at him in the darkness. His heart constricted with longing as he thought of her.

"You fell into the river."

So that really hadn't been a dream, Will thought. Why would he have fallen into the river? It certainly didn't sound like him…

"Please remove your arm," said Tessa, meaningfully glancing down at it.

"You haven't finished telling me what you know."

"There is nothing more to tell." Her smile was gone; she looked at him coldly now, emotionlessly.

"Something else happened," he said through his teeth. He pressed down hard with his arm, hard enough that a normal person would have gasped for breath or thrashed against him, but Tessa didn't move. "Tell me what it is."

She stared at him like an empty shell of a person, stared straight through him as if he weren't there.

He threw his weight against his arm, his fury giving him strength, as red licked his vision. This imposter would not get away from him again. He must know what happened that night, what had happened to the real Tessa—

"Will!"

The shriek came from behind him. He spun around automatically in surprise, to see Charlotte, Jem, Henry, and Gideon gathered together not far away, looking on in horror as Tessa crumpled to the ground beside Will.


Tessa woke in a bed, something that came as unexpected to her. It took her a few moments to remember where she was, and why her head ached even worse than before. Then the memories surged back, along with her fear.

She was no longer in the room with the demon, though the memory of it made her shudder. She could not believe that Mortmain would want to sacrifice her in order to unleash that unstoppable power on the world; did he honestly believe that this monster would spare him when it slaughtered the Shadowhunters?

Tessa closed her eyes and laid her head back against the pillow for a moment, longing for her own bed in the Institute, for the presence and voices of her friends. She wondered desolately if they had noticed her absence. The thought sparked a shadow of a memory, the same memory that had come to mind in the chamber with the demon—a figure in the rain, disturbingly familiar. Shivers prickled up and down her spine, but the memory faded again before she could grasp it properly.

Tessa threw the covers off of her legs and quietly stood, ignoring the pounding in her head as she did so. She was alone in the room; perhaps now would be the only chance she got to get out before Mortmain came back for her.

She crept toward the door, already knowing that it would be locked, but turning the handle anyway. She was not surprised that the door stayed firmly shut before her. Tessa knelt down and peered at the lock closely. Her brother Nate used to pick locks all the time when they were children. Tessa had see him do it often enough. Why shouldn't she be able to do it as well?

Tessa removed one of the hairpins from her hair, which was half tumbling down her back and shoulders anyway, inserted it delicately in the lock, and began to twist it this way and that, listening for the telltale click that would mean freedom.

It proved to be much harder than Nathaniel had made it look. She was at it for ages, her muscles quivering with tension and her ears straining for any sound of footsteps beyond the door. Mortmain would not stay away for long; if she didn't get this door open quickly, he would catch her in the act of trying to escape. She did not want to know what he would do then.

Then she heard it—a clicking sound in the lock. Nearly crying with relief, Tessa threw the door open and stumbled into the corridor outside her room.

Right into an automaton.


"What are you doing?" Charlotte nearly shrieked, rushing forward to kneel at Tessa's side. Will was enraged to see her lying as if unconscious, brows drawn slightly together so that her face had a look of distress upon it. He knew that he had not harmed her, he knew that his actions would not have rendered her unconscious—she was only acting, only pretending so that he would be blamed.

"Will?" Jem was looking between him and the "unconscious" Tessa, his face full of shock. "What's going on?" He sounded as if he could not quite believe his eyes.

Will shifted his eyes between the three men facing him, men that suddenly looked ready to attack him if they saw necessary. Gideon was shaking his head grimly, and Henry looked confused and alarmed, his hand hovering near the blade at his belt. Jem did not seem to be able to settle on an emotion.

Will knew what he must say. "I do not know what came over me," he said mechanically. "Forgive me."

He knew how fake the words sounded, and clearly so could the others. The shock and bewilderment faded at once from Jem's face, replaced with stoniness that cut Will to his heart. His parabatai had never looked at him so coldly before, and Will had never expected it to hurt this much.

"I say," said Henry, sounding astonished. "Were you trying to kill Tessa, Will?"

Will thought of the consuming rage he had felt not moments before, the whim to crush the neck of the girl standing before him, and mentally thought, I was trying to kill someone, but it was not Tessa. "No," was all he said.

Jem strode forward until he stood right in front of Will. His silver eyes blazed; Will had never seen him look so angry, so betrayed. "I never thought you would sink as low as this," he said softly, furiously. "You have abused Tessa, who has done nothing but trust you and care about you. You should be ashamed, William Herondale."

"You sound as if you're scolding me, James," Will replied quietly, holding his friend's gaze, willing him to see the truth. "You were always trying to steer me onto the path of decency, weren't you?"

Jem clenched his jaw and took a step back, eyes hard as rock. "I always believed that your core was good and pure, Will. I knew that you would never fail to do the right thing, in the end. But it would appear that setting you on that path is a lost cause after all," he said, and Will would have felt no less pain if Jem had run him through with a poisoned blade, for to hear his best friend give up on him, his blood brother, was more than he could bear.

"Will," said Charlotte from where she still knelt by Tessa, now joined by Gideon and Henry. She spoke without looking at him, her voice quiet. "I think you should leave now."

Will swung his head around to look at her, for a moment his expression betraying his shock. Then he composed his face into an impassive mask and said lazily, "I knew it would happen sooner or later." He hoped the intense betrayal he felt inside was not visible in his face or voice.

Charlotte closed her eyes briefly, as if trying to shut out pain. "Only for a while," she said, a touch of pleading in her tone. "Until…until you can control yourself. You cannot stay here if you are a danger to the other members of the Institute."

Will wanted to say so many things—he wanted to shout the truth at them, reveal the girl on the floor for what she really was, but the information Tessa held over his head was too tantalizing to give up. She was the only one who knew where the real Tessa's location was; he could not jeopardize his chances of finding her by breaking their deal a second time.

So he said the second best thing he could think of. "It's odd, I never expected my own family to choose someone else over me. But I suppose I shouldn't be surprised." He let his gaze rake over them, taking satisfaction in the surprise in their faces—he had never referred to them as his family before.

Then, his heart thudding out echoes of pain with each beat, he turned on his heel and strode away from them, down the hall, feeling their gazes burn his back as he went. He didn't stop until he reached the Institute doors, throwing them open with a bang and walking out the gates.

He pulled up the walls that he had so often used to shield his emotions, hardening his insides until the pain was nearly completely numb. He would be back; he had a memory to recall, a girl to find, and there was only one person who had the answers he needed.

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