Chapter Eight
Jocelyn
Staying home with Jace had been oddly satisfying. Jocelyn had grown so accustomed to the thought that she would never have a son that suddenly having Jace in her care was exhilarating. She was so used to looking after a girl that a boy was an anomaly. Though she knew Jace must have been annoyed by it, Jocelyn couldn't help but run her hands through his fine, soft curly hair, smile whenever he yawned, or admire the solid, hard boy's body so alien to her when all she knew was Clary's soft, delicate curves. He was all strength, silence, and indifferent glances; she suspected that this was mostly a show, but she adored it all the same. A small part of her was guilty that she was so enamored by having a son-even a replacement one-when her real son, and her daughter for that matter, were being held hostage against her.
For his part, though, Jace was polite and charming; Jocelyn could see why Valentine had so wanted him to be part of their family. They spent a pleasant afternoon together, Jocelyn tending carefully to Jace's wounds and keeping up nice conversation. As soon as Valentine had left, Jocelyn went and fixed Jace a very large breakfast, and while he ate, she examined the broken rib and ankle, massaging them gently.
"You should be more careful, Jace," she said calmly, watching a secret pass through his eyes. She knew someone was at play here, but Jace wasn't going to tell her. "Whatever the cause of your injuries, all you have to do is come to me; I'll be happy to set things straight. I don't mind it, Jace, really I miss it; Clary was so clumsy when she was young, I was always racing after her with bandages!" The faint smile on her face was enough to interest Jace.
"What was she like?" He wondered if Jocelyn knew how he felt about her daughter, and if she'd like him half as much if she knew what he dreamed of sometimes.
Jocelyn's eyes sparkled. "Much like she is now, a bit less serious, though."
Jace looked down. "I was just curious-"
"It's okay, Jace," Jocelyn said quickly, taking that moment to steal a swift touch of her palm to his cheek. "Clary seems very taken with you, and, for all his madness, Valentine likes you. I suppose he's already planning your future."
"I'd like that," Jace admitted, looking down at the plate of food before him.
Jocelyn smiled and launched into a story of Clary's childhood, living in their small apartment. As she spoke, Jace ate and allowed her to tend his injuries. When the afternoon came, Jocelyn offered to bring up the chess set, if he wanted to play, or a book if he'd like to read. Jace opted for chess, and she hauled the board and pieces up. Three rounds later, two to Jocelyn and one to a very surprised Jace, Jocelyn vanished downstairs and returned with another plate, this time, sandwiches.
"You're very thin," she observed, her eyes raking over his body. "No doubt this is the result of your time in the Gard?" Jace shrugged; he didn't like it when people worried about him, that much was becoming obvious. "Well, regardless, you need to eat something if you plan on healing up fast."
As he ate, Jocelyn sat and asked after him: if he missed his family, what his favorite part of living in New York was, would he like to explore Alicante later. This last one pulled him up short, and his eyes glimmered hopefully.
"I'm allowed out of the house?" he asked curiously.
Jocelyn shrugged. "If I wish to go out into the city, I don't see why I can't take you with me. When things settle down next month we can go to the city circle, by the Accords Hall, and see if any of the shops have reopened. There were some very nice bakeries, as I recall."
"Would Valentine let me?" Jace asked again, trying to drive the point.
"If it makes me happy," she answered simply. "Anything that makes me happy, he allows." For some reason, this upset Jocelyn, and she turned away. "Did you really try to sneak out and see the Lightwoods?"
Jace's first thought was to scream, no, of course not, but a sharp pain laced up his spine and clamped his mouth shut until he consented to say, "Yes, I miss Isabelle and Alec."
Jocelyn's green eyes pierced him. "I can take you to see them," she said quickly, watching him closely. "Would you like me to do that?"
"I don't think Valentine is going to let me," Jace grunted, but the idea of seeing Isabelle and Alec was painful. "He doesn't want me around Alec anymore."
"Why?"
Jace swallowed. "Alec's…gay," Jace admitted. "I don't have a problem with it, but Valentine thinks that it's not okay to be that way, it's why he split us, but I don't care. Alec's been my brother since I was ten!" Jace glanced quickly at Jocelyn, wondering how she'd take his whining; Maryse certainly wouldn't have.
Jocelyn, however, was very much a mother; she gently squeezed Jace's shoulder. "Valentine is a hard man, but I can soften him; however, you have to stop aggravating him at every turn. I know how much it hurts you to give in to him-trust me, I understand-but it's the best way to get what you want."
Jace scowled. "He's just using me to-" STOP. Jace gagged on his words and sputtered, trying to escape the grasp tightening on his throat. "-to make himself feel better. I'm not an actual person in this household."
Jocelyn kissed his hair. "You're a person to me, Jace." She paused, letting her words sink in. "You look tired, Jace, so why don't you sleep while I make dinner. I'll bring you up a tray tonight so you won't have to go down."
As soon as Jace had dozed off-or pretended to, Jocelyn couldn't tell with him-she went back down to the kitchen and started a simple dinner. Again, she had the urge to make one extra plate for Clary, but she was reminded of her daughter's absence, and she sighed heavily. Jace had indeed been a good distraction, but the moment she left him, she was hit with that longing for Clary.
She was just finishing a tray full of food for Jace when she heard the soft thud of footsteps that announced Valentine's return. She turned about to face him just as he entered, eyes agleam at the sight of her. "Dinner in bed?"
"Jace," she said, gesturing to the plates of steaming chicken, potatoes, and vegetables. "I don't think it'll suit his ribs and ankle to be walking about. I'll take it up to him. Where's Jonathan?"
"He's running a little late with Clave business. It'll be just you and me this evening." Valentine smiled slightly, like a shy boy, and Jocelyn found the sight strange; Valentine could never be described as shy. "I have a surprise for you, Jocelyn, too; so don't bother with the dinner. We'll have something special."
Clary? She though, but knew better than to say it; Valentine always seemed annoyed whenever she mentioned her daughter. "A surprise? Something better than having a son?"
"An old friend," he said indulgently, and reached for the tray. "I'll take this up to Jace, I want to have a few words with the boy anyway about climbing out windows." At the look of suspicion on Jocelyn's face he held up his hands. "Don't worry, my dear, I won't touch a hair on your boy's head."
Your boy's. How quickly Valentine removed Jace from his friends and family, all for me. Now he's in my care and I hardly have the strength to protect him. Jocelyn poured a glass of warm tea into a large mug. "Tell him to eat it all, I don't like how thin he's become."
Valentine nodded seriously though his eyes were glowing. "I'll certainly let him know."
Jocelyn watched him go, pressing his lips into a thin line. She had so few friends, and most of the Circle were either dead, or so deeply in service to Valentine that she didn't want to see them. Contemplatively, she cleaned up and then hurried upstairs to change into something a bit more formal; so long as she was going to play the good wife, she had to show Valentine she cared a bit about her appearance. Though she quite frankly hated dresses, there was a nice silky, gold one, something she would have worn to Circle gatherings.
This is what Valentine wants, and if it's what Valentine wants, it's good for Clary, she thought, slipping into it. A quick glance in the mirror told her she was looking fair enough, not her old standard, but getting there. Will he like it? she worried. Is this good enough for Valentine?
"As always, you're stunning," said Valentine, who was standing in the door of the bedroom. Jocelyn felt his eyes on her figure, and she turned away slightly, embarrassed. Valentine's eyes widened at her. "What's wrong?"
Don't let him know, don't let him know. "It's been a long time since you and I have…done things together."
"And you thought my feelings had changed?" Valentine asked, closing the distance between them. "You thought I didn't love you anymore?"
You never loved me, you only wanted to own me. "I didn't know if you would be interested in me anymore. You've been gone a long time, and I'm sure you didn't spend those years alone-"
"Jocelyn," said Valentine swiftly, and he snatched her hands in one of his. "You were the only woman I ever loved, the only woman I ever wanted. I'd always want you."
Always want you… "Sometimes, I don't know what to think, is all. It's so strange, coming back into this life you've planned so well."
"Then don't think," said Valentine easily, pulling her into his arms. "Trust me to do the right thing."
"I trust you." Trust you as far as I could throw you.
Luke
Since Valentine's last visit, Luke had had no other company. He knew that soon, Jocelyn would be brought before him and he would be expected to tell her how good a man Valentine was. And he knew that he was going to say whatever he had to say, do whatever he had to do, to protect Clary. It hurt that he was making sacrifices for Clary, especially when it came to the woman he loved, but that's what you did for your children. You protected them.
When the darkness of his cell was broken, Luke was in full wolf form, curled up beneath the bench in his cell. The light stung his eyes a bit, and Luke's hackles rose in a snarl, his teeth glittering savagely. He heard a faint gasp from the door and his snarl turned almost at once into a whine of sympathy. Jocelyn.
"Hello?" her voice quivered a bit, as if she were uncertain it was all just a trap. It was possible she was scared, after all, Valentine was crazy. Maybe she thought he was actually going to hurt her. "Hello?"
Luke crawled out from the shadows, stepping into the green glow of the witch light in her hand. The sight of Jocelyn was a wonder for Luke. She was stunning, but more than her usual jumbled, frantic, painter stunning; she was composed, elegant, powerful. She looked like Valentine Morgenstern's wife.
Carefully, so as not to scare her, Luke shifted into his human form. When he met her eyes, there was such a look of relief and adoration that his heart hammered. Did Valentine hurt you? Has he done anything to you? Are you all right? "Hello, Jocelyn."
"Luke," she breathed, and rushed into his arms.
For a guilty moment, Luke allowed himself to enjoy the feel of Jocelyn in his arms. Every part of him was burning for her touch, but he knew he had a job to do. Don't forget Clary, don't forget how much danger she's in. "It's good to see you. I've been worried."
"Don't be," Jocelyn said, putting just a little space between them. "I've been staying with…Valentine."
"I heard," Luke grumbled, and he ran a hand through his ragged hair. "He's treating you well though?"
"Well enough," Jocelyn whispered. "I still don't have my daughter back, but, I've got a son again."
"Jonathan?"
Jocelyn shook her head. "Jace. Valentine figured that since he raised him, he might as well adopt him. He's been a pleasant addition to the family."
Luke nodded, mulling it all over. Now or never. "It was good of Valentine to take Jace in. He's a good man."
Jocelyn's eyes widened and her mouth dropped open. She saw the look on his face, the guarded shadows in his eyes. "Luke-"
"No, Jocelyn, listen," said Luke quickly, and gave her a meaningful look. "I've spoken with him, talked a few things over…and –and I regret this whole mess. I realize now that Valentine was right: the Clave was corrupt. It needed to be fixed."
"But like this?"
"No one died, did they?" Luke asked quickly. "It was easy, it was peaceful, and it ended with all the demons gone. Valentine's proven himself a good leader, a trustworthy one."
Jocelyn swallowed and she looked suddenly so small that Luke wanted to hold her again. "He's been very good to me."
"Of course he has, Jocelyn, he loves you." Luke swallowed his disgust. "You need to trust him."
Jocelyn frowned, her eyes showing a bit of confusion. "You can't mean that?" she whispered in a weak voice. "Luke, he's a monster. He kidnapped Clary and he's keeping her prisoner-"
"Are you sure?" Luke asked sharply. "Valentine is probably worried about backlash from restless shadowhunters and Downworlders. Just because Clary fought against Valentine doesn't mean she'll be spared any anger. She bears the name Morgenstern."
"Do you really think there are people that angry they'd hurt Clary-"
"Jocelyn, Valentine ruined a lot of lives-Downworlder lives to be exact. My pack isn't up in arms, but there're plenty of angry vampires, witches, warlocks and werewolves to go around. Valentine didn't kill them all."
"She's a little girl!"
Of course she is, and of course I'm lying, but you can't know that. "And her name is Morgenstern."
"He said he was keeping her safe…"
You have to make her believe you; Clary's life is on the line. "And he is. Besides, he hasn't done her any undue harm, has he?"
"I wouldn't know, I haven't seen her." Jocelyn was sensing that no matter what she said, Luke was going to tell her to trust Valentine, and though she didn't know why he was driving the point, he was saying it for a reason.
"I think you'll find that he's taking good care of her, and I wouldn't be surprised if he didn't bring her home soon. Things have begun to settle down now."
Jocelyn opened her mouth and then closed it again. After a few minutes of silence she finally fixed Luke with a hard stare. "What did he do to you, Luke? What did he say? Is he hurting you?"
Luke glanced away and Jocelyn knew she was right, but about what, she didn't know. When Luke finally did speak, his voice dripped with meaning. "You have to think of your daughter now, Jocelyn. I'm just a friend, and a poor one at that. Valentine can protect Clary for you because I certainly can't."
"Protect Clary," Jocelyn repeated softly, and dropped her gaze. So it was hopeless, Valentine had gotten to Luke the same way he had gotten to her: Clary. She dipped her head in a bow. "Well, I certainly haven't been doing it enough these days. I hope Valentine can."
Luke smiled grimly and it didn't reach his eyes. "You just have to trust Valentine to do it for you. He's a good man, a good father; he'll take care of all of you."
Yes, he'll take care of you, he'll take care of you all and he'll never let any of you see light of day again. But, still, I think he's a fine old chap, really solid man of character.
"So you think I should…trust him to give me back my daughter?" Jocelyn asked carefully.
"I think that by no later than tomorrow, you'll have Clary back in your arms." Luke nodded. "He won't keep the person you love from you if you just give him what he wants."
"What he wants?"
"Your love," Luke answered, and his voice was strong and solid. I'm sorry, Jocelyn, I'm so sorry it has to be like this.
"Luke," she murmured, and then drew closer, terrified Valentine could hear her. "Luke, you need to know the truth. You need to know that ever since you found me and Clary I've been-"
"Jocelyn, don't say it," his voice was rough. "Just don't." The Angel knows, I can't take it if you say it.
"I should have told you!" she said frantically. "All those years I just let it go by, but if this is it, if this is the last time I'll see you…Luke I lo-"
"Jocelyn?" It was Valentine and he was unlocking the door. "Jocelyn, are you ready?"
Luke caught her wrists and whispered harshly in her ear. "If you love me, if you really love me, Jocelyn, go with him. Think of Clary, think of your children. Whatever happens, whatever you must do, do it, and don't think of me."
Clary
"Alright, just let Jace go and I'll do whatever you want," said Clary, meeting her father's gaze with all the strength she had left.
"I knew I didn't make a mistake when I took you in," he said to Jace politely. He knotted his hands in Jace's hair and gave it a sharp tug. "So many uses."
"Don't…" Clary said, watching Jace's head snap back and forth. When Valentine stopped, he smiled down at Clary as if to show her how good a person he was.
"Now, I'm not going to let Jace go just yet," said Valentine softly. "I need to a make sure I have your utmost attention, but if you behave yourself like a good girl, I'll let you and Jace spend the rest of the night together. Now, that's fair, isn't it?"
"Clary, don't-" Valentine clapped a hand over Jace's mouth and gave his sore side another solid blow. He hung limply in Valentine's grip.
"Alright," Clary said weakly. "What do you want?"
"We need to come to an understanding, Clarissa," said Valentine. "I've allowed you to live for two reasons: because your mother loves you, and it would pain her if you were to die, and because, of my own personal pride." When Clary stared back, he shrugged. "I don't like losing control of my things, especially not some Mundane daughter."
Clary grit her teeth at being described as one of Valentine's things. "Can I see my mom?"
"When you decide to behave." Valentine lifted Jace's chin and forced the two to share a look. "Jace is being a good boy, he does what I tell him to do, and I'd like you to strive for something like this. To be my obedient daughter.
"I have great plans for you, Clarissa, but they're all for naught if you refuse your destiny. This means you will have to begin training at once; you're years behind your fellow shadowhunters and this means I'll have to train you intensively. You certainly won't be going to school with your peers." Valentine's eyes flicked over her face, measuring her anger. "Yes, I think I'll have to keep you here.
"There will be strict rules and swift consequences. I'd like to begin your lessons the day after tomorrow, when you're back on your feet." He smiled here, eyeing her broken arm and many bruises and cuts. "You'll have to have languages, mathematics, rune study, and, of course, practical training; it will all be rather extensive and I suspect you'll find the beginning of it trying. However, I'm willing to allow Jace to tutor you in some subjects, if you conduct yourself like a Morgenstern. You'd like that, wouldn't you?"
He was waiting for Clary to speak, and she had to fight a mouth full of curses before she could answer. "Yes."
"Very nice," Valentine dipped his head and then continued. "You must understand, Clarissa, that I will have to be hard on you, and you may consider my methods of education…brutal. Regardless of how you feel or what I do, you will not speak of your training to anyone. Is that clear?"
You say training but you mean punishment, Clary thought furiously. I just can't tell anyone that you're doing it. "Yes."
"That includes Jocelyn." At the name of her mother, Clary's eyes widened. "Yes, I know you want to see her, and I'm more than willing to let you visit with her-when I can trust you. I need to know that you're not going to say or do anything that will upset her; Jocelyn's state of mind is fragile and I don't want her to fall apart when she's doing so well."
You're a liar. "I want to see my mom, and she wants me," she rasped.
"Not at all, actually," he said, and this time, he turned Jace's chin so that they were looking at each other. Jace bared his teeth in a snarl and Valentine smirked; he moved Jace's chin from side to side, shaking his head. Clary had an urge to hit Valentine. Why, why was Jace letting Valentine do these things to him? "You see, Jace, isn't just here for your benefit; I brought him along to make your mother happy, to give her something to love in place of Jonathan. Your mother has taken quite a liking to him; she doesn't need to see you." Clary's eyes moved to Jace irrevocably and he lowered his gaze, ashamed. "Don't be angry with him, Clarissa, he's just doing what he has to do to keep his friends and family alive."
"I'm not angry," Clary said softly, though a small part of her hurt. Does my mother really love him so much?
"Now, I will let you see her, but only on your best behavior." Again, his eyes raked her. "I'll leave you in Jace's care this evening; he can clean you up, fix some of the nastier scraps. I have a procured a number of suitable dresses for the occasion tomorrow, I trust you'll wear one."
Clary ran a hand through her tangled hair. "I-I want to see my mom."
"All in good time, Clarissa, but not looking like this, you won't." He smiled at Jace. "I admit, Jace, that I commend you for seeing something in this mess. She's not much of a looker like this."
Jace finally spoke, and when he did, Clary relaxed just a little. "Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, so they say. Leave it to me."
Valentine smirked and then tossed Jace back toward the bed; he landed deftly though the pain in his ankle sent a spike up his leg. Clary scrambled up to meet him. "Are you alright?" she gasped.
"He'll be fine, Clarissa," Valentine sighed. "I'll just be on my way, I've got to meet with Jocelyn. Jace, make sure no one knows that Clary is in here. If her release is found out too early, I will put her right back where she came from."
Jace's gold eyes glittered. "We'll be quiet as church mice."
Valentine smiled at the description and then turned, unlocked the door, and left. As soon as the door clicked shut, Jace was up and working at the lock. Clary watched him from the bed warily, the bend of his shoulders, the way the light caught his gold hair; when he turned again to face her, she was struck by her handsome he was.
Of course your mother loves him, she thought sadly. He's the son every mother wants: smart, handsome, polite, and gifted. Don't hold it against him, he's just doing what he has to. Clary smiled weakly, but Jace must have sensed what she was feeling. He came back to the bed and sat at her side, gently running a hand through her hair.
"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," he said, kissing her cheek. "He was going to kill the Lightwoods if I didn't come here and do what he wanted, but I didn't want to be…this." He gestured down at his clothing like he were disgusted with it. "He was going to kill Alec, and I didn't know what else to do." He looked so heartbreakingly lost that Clary felt a few tears glisten in her eyes; Jace was never helpless.
"I'm not mad," she whispered. "I just want to see my mom. She's okay, isn't she?"
Jace frowned. "Lie down, Clary. It's going to take a while to clean you up." Clary leaned back and flinched a little from the bed sores on her back. Jace vanished to the bathroom and returned with rags, antiseptic, and a bowl of water. Clary watched him, curious. "I'll have to set your arm first, and then I'll clean the rest. Tomorrow you'll have to bathe."
"I can't stand on my own," Clary observed.
Jace turned away, gently feeling her arm. "I'll help you."
Clary rested her head on the pillow that smelled so much like Jace and closed her eyes. "How is my mom?"
"Valentine treats her well," Jace said calmly as he continued to feel the broken bone. "She's not being tortured or hurt; he's in love with her. He gives her whatever she wants."
"She wanted a son…" Clary murmured.
"This is going to hurt," said Jace, handing her a wad of towels. "Bite these." Jace placed the towels in her mouth and Clary clamped down. He counted down from five, and at once, he jerked her bones back into place. Clary whined through the towels, but her voice was muffled. As soon as he'd mended the bone, Jace began brushing hair off her face, kissing her. "It's okay, it's okay…It's over." Clary panted.
"Tell me," Clary said in a breathy voice, "tell me about my mom."
Jace smiled at her. "She's being cared for. She lives here, has everything provided for her, has her children…"
"Does she love Valentine?" Clary asked softly, afraid of the answer. "He-he said my mother loved him again. Does she?"
Jace wrapped her arm in bandaging and then dipped a towel in warm water. He went first to her face and scrubbed away the dirt and dried blood. She looked up at him with big, green eyes and he kissed her chastely on the lips. "No. She has to pretend that she does to keep him happy, but she only ever asked about you."
She only ever asked about me, Clary thought to herself, relaxing a little. She doesn't love Valentine, she only loves me…but she has to pretend to love him. How much does she have to pretend? Clary worried. "But what about Valentine?"
Jace sighed. "He thinks that if your mother is only concerned with you, she's not being a good wife-she has a family after all. Jocelyn has to pretend to love him and Jonathan and me, or else he'll take it out on you."
"So he thinks she loves him," Clary mused. Jace was finishing up wrapping Clary's wrists and was moving onto her ankles. "I guess she'll have to play along, won't she?"
Jace dabbed the burn and Clary flinched. "If she wants to protect you, she will."
