I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!
I know that I will be hated for all eternity for making you wait a week. I do have really good excuse (in my defense) I have finals next week, a CSI project due, and a track meet today. I suck. I know.
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Clary looked up at Jace, who was still spluttering. "Yes, niece. And you would have known that if you had what? Oh, that's right ladies and gentlemen, bothered to call."
Alec snorted into his cup, the water very nearly coming out of his nose.
"Yes, Jonathan," Isabelle said coolly, "I have a daughter. It's a natural consequence of getting married and having sex."
Clary cracked up, trying to smother her laugh with her hand. She, Isabelle and Beck exchanged a look full of mirth.
"You know, I'm getting really sick of being the running joke around here." Jace's eyes flashed.
"Sit down, Jace." Magnus said carelessly. "What exactly did you expect when you returned? Hugs and kisses? Parties and presents?"
Jace looked at him sneeringly, but sat down.
Time passed quickly as the motley family talked and caught up. Every now and again, Clary would catch Jace staring at her with a passion that scared her, but as soon as she caught his gaze, Jace averted his eyes.
When everyone was finished eating and all the dishes were cleared, Clary stood and got everyone's attention, saying, "Jace has come back because he has some information on the demon that killed Beck's and my parents. He thinks he knows what it was."
"I don't think. I know." Jace muttered as he stood up. "I've been traveling, and everywhere that I've gone, I've learned a little bit more. It turns out that this demon – if I'm right – is older than we can even imagine." Jace paused and the old twinkle returned to his eyes, "What do you know about Lamia?"
"The ancient Greek queen of Libya?" Beck asked in a bored tone.
"Yes. Well, sort of." Jace enjoyed the attention he was getting. "Lamia was supposedly the granddaughter of Poseidon and Lybie. At least, that's what the legends say. In reality, she was the offspring of two unrelated demons. She was normal at first, well as normal as a demon could be," Jace scoffed, "and she looked human. She would seduce married men and get pregnant, giving birth to demons that look like snakes."
"Demons like-" Clary started to ask.
"Yes, like the one we just killed." Jace answered softly. "Anyway, one day, one of the wives, who coincidentally was a warlock, walked in on the, shall we call it, act of intimacy, and went crazy. She tried to kill Lamia, and when that failed, she killed all of Lamia's children. That drove Lamia crazy and so she ate the wife."
"Hold up. She did what now?" Simon asked incredulously.
"Yes, that's right. She ate the wife. And after that, she started to eat children. These horrific deeds turned her from a beautiful woman to a gruesome snake-like creature. And to top it all off, she's immortal." Jace rolled his eyes.
"She can't be killed?" Isabelle interjected with a raised eyebrow.
"Oh no, she can be killed. It just takes a lot. Every culture in the world has a legend or a myth about cannibalism and how it gives magical powers. The Native Americans claimed that those who ate other humans were given super strength, speed and long life. Since she's been eating people for hundreds, maybe even thousands, of years, I say it's safe to assume that the legends are true." Jace sat back and pushed his hair from his eyes. He reached behind him to the counter where the photos and other evidence sat, displaying it for the whole table to see. "And she's continued having her demonic children. From what I can tell, they're mainly doing the killing, but I'm not sure."
Beck had been strangely quiet during this whole interlude, but he spoke now. "How do we kill it." It was not a question, but a statement. There was no question among any of them that they would hunt down this demon, find it, and kill it. Everyone at that table wanted revenge, and revenge they would have.
Jace sighed. "That's what I don't know. Almost everywhere I've been to has seen this kind of demonic activity, but no one has seen it actually happen. There have been no survivors."
"How did the Clave not pick up on this? I mean, this is huge. This is a giant conspiracy, and no one has seen it? That's a load of bull." Clary's voice rang out clearly and sharply.
"It's not easy to connect. Yes, the bodies were all killed in the same way, but this thing is smart. It knows how to avoid getting caught. And no one bothers to ask about a 'typical' demonic killing anymore. It's too common."
"Well then, we'll just have to make it uncommon then, won't we?"
"That's my girl." Jace's comment was harmless enough, spoken more in a brotherly tone than one of a lover, but it was enough to rouse Beck from his intense concentration.
"It's late," he declared, looking at his watch to see that it was about 2:30 A.M., "everyone get some sleep. We'll regroup in the morning, after we've had some rest."
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Clary collapsed on the bed in exhaustion; she didn't even have the strength to remove the denim shorts and polo shirt she was wearing. Beck lay down next to her, easily pulling her against the warm skin of his bare chest. She snuggled closer to him, resting her head on his chest.
"I'm going to send Kale away for a little while." Clary said.
Beck thought about this and nodded. "That's a good idea. It'll keep him safe."
"Beck, do you think this is real?"
"Yes," Beck's answer was short, but his tone spoke depths.
"Do you think we can kill it?"
"Yes," His voice was again tight with emotion.
"Good." Clary was only able to voice that one word before her eyes closed and she drifted into sleep.
"Don't worry, Sweetheart. We'll find it, and we'll kill it. We will have our revenge. I promise you." Beck looked down at his sleeping fiancée and smiled sweetly. He gently pressed a kiss to her temple.
"Sweet dreams, Sweetheart."
It was only a moment or two before he was sleeping just as soundly.
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The next morning, around 8:30, Jace and Beck bumped into each other in the hallway. Beck tiptoed from the room, silently closing the door behind him and turning abruptly into Jace.
"Easy man," Jace mumbled before walking away. Beck followed him.
"Where's your shadow?" Jace asked snidely.
"Don't talk about her that way." Beck warned, but then he smiled and changed the conversation topic. "What are you planning on doing today?"
Jace just gave him a sidelong glance, as if to say are you kidding me?
"Yes, I guess that was a pretty stupid question. Rack it up to lack of sleep." Beck rubbed his eyes and stumbled toward the coffee maker.
"The smell of coffee is the sure fire way of waking Clary up," Beck continued as he prepared a whopping sixteen cups of coffee. "I'll have to make a second pot for everyone else. Good thing she's done growing, otherwise the caffeine intake might have seriously stunted her growth. I don't know what she'll do if she gets pregnant." Beck continued talking, and Jace just watched him in disbelief.
Have you always been this way? Jace thought silently. He couldn't stop the words from exploding from his mouth. "Why didn't you ever write back?"
Beck's hand froze in mid air as he was dumping the coffee grounds into a filter.
"What are you talking about?"
"I wrote you hundreds of letters when I moved here, and you didn't send a single thing back." Jace's voice was icy; he almost could not conceal his pain from Beck.
"Jonathan, what are you talking about? I replied to every single letter you wrote. I even wrote you after you stopped writing back to me." Beck's voice was skeptical.
"Don't bother patronizing me, Beck. Just 'fess up to it."
"Jonathan, I sent you hundreds of letters. I swear I don't know what you're talking about."
"It's true." Mayrse's voice came from behind the archway of the kitchen. "He did write you, Jace. I kept the letters from you."
Jace and Beck whirled to stare at her.
"What are you talking about, Mayrse?" Jace asked in a careful voice. She looked miserable.
"I kept all of the letters that Beck sent you. I still have them. I didn't let you see them because I didn't think that you were in proper shape to see them. When you got the first one, you did not come from your room for two days. I did not want to see you in such pain. I am sorry, Jonathan. I am so sorry." With that, Mayrse turned and fled from the room, leaving the two boys looking after her in utter disbelief. Jace sat back in his chair, his legs unable to hold him. Beck turned toward Jace and whispered, "I'm sorry, Jonathan."
"Only mundanes apologize for something that isn't their fault." Jace quoted bitterly. His head went down and his eyes closed.
What did I do in a past life to deserve this? My parents are killed and I'm raised by a murderer, my only friend is engaged to the love of my life, whom I left in an act of selfishness because I didn't want to see her in pain. Why is this happening? Valentine was right. To love is to destroy.
Beck laid a hand on Jace's shoulder and was surprised to see a single tear fall gently from his angelic face. He spoke nothing of it.
. Jace's eyes opened and his head came up. I have to do this. For Clary. If nothing else comes from this nightmare that is my life, Clary's life will be made better. She will have peace for once in her life, even if it means the end of mine.
When Jace spoke, his voice was steely. "We have a demon to kill."
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Clary woke up sniffing. She could detect that beautiful aroma of coffee wafting through the air and to her nose. She perked up, sitting upright and following her nose. She wandered to the kitchen and paused at the doorway, looking in to see Jace slumped on a stool, Beck's hand on his shoulder in a comforting manner. She would come back later; they were obviously having a private moment. She turned around and quietly went back in the direction she had come from, settling at her desk in the office down the hall. In the few spare minutes she had, she was going to go over some wedding details.
Isabelle, of course, could smell party planning a mile away. Only a few seconds after Clary had gotten comfortable, a dark head popped in the door and smiled. Clary sighed.
"Come on. I could use the help. Magnus is a bit overwhelming."
Isabelle squealed in delight as she sprinted to Clary's side.
After a half hour, Beck found them. Clary glanced up and noted, "I really hope your carrying coffee."
"I'm not an idiot. Five years and I've learned that if it's before noon, I shouldn't come near you without coffee."
"You're so smart. I knew there was a reason that I kept you around." Clary smiled lovingly at him and accepted the large, steaming cup of liquid gold.
"So, uh, what are you work-"
"NO!" shrieked Isabelle, "Get out! Now! You can't see the wedding plans before the actual wedding. It's like, bad luck or something. You're going to be cursed. Now shoo."
Clary mouthed the words, I'll show you later, to him and he smiled and retreated from the room.
"Wait!" Isabelle cried, "Where's my coffee?" She asked.
Beck's eyebrows rose, "It's in the kitchen. I might be cursed or something if I brought it to you while you were making wedding plans. If you want it, come and get it."
Isabelle's eyes narrowed, but she left the room.
Beck looked at Clary curiously. "Are you okay, Baby?"
"Yes, why?" Clary looked at him questioningly.
"I don't know. You just look a little," he paused, looking for the right words, "off."
"I'm fine. Just tired." She reassured him, but neither one was entirely convinced. The truth was, she didn't feel well, and he arm was aching.
"Are you sure?" Beck asked, feeling very concerned.
"Positive. Now go back to the kitchen before you bring a curse on us for seeing the wedding plans."
Clary chuckled and went back to the papers in front of her. A few seconds after Beck left, she heard something at the doorway.
"What's that?" asked a distinctly masculine voice. Jace.
"Wedding plans." Clary answered softly, not looking up from her sketches.
Jace's eyes closed. This was the final nail in the coffin. They really were engaged.
"Can I see?" He asked quietly. She almost didn't hear him.
"Yes, Jace. You can see them if you want."
He laughed without humor. "I don't want to see them."
"I know," she whispered. "Look, I'm sorry if this is hurting you, Jace, but you left. Not me."
"I know, Clary, and I regret it every single second of every single day. When I'm away from you, I hurt. I physically ache with pain. It's eating at me; I feel like my soul is gone."
"Jace-" She tried to stop him, but he cut her off.
"I know. Nothing has changed." His voice was hollow; Clary imagined that it was the sound a dead man's voice would make. "You are in love with Beck, and you're getting married. I know. I just want you to know that I will never stop fighting for you. Never." The intensity in his voice scared her, causing a shiver to rush through her body. Just before he turned to leave, he reached out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ears, and he whispered, "Until my very last breath, Clary, I will always be trying to get you back."
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After the episode with Jace, Clary was shaky to say the least. She went to Kale's room and woke him up, gathering his things into a bag. The poor boy was sleepy, so Clary sat down and explained things to him.
"Buddy, you're going to stay with Aunt Amatis for a while, okay?"
He sat up and sleepily rubbed his eyes. "Why?" He asked through a yawn.
"Beck, Aunt Isabelle, Uncle Alec, Magnus and Mayrse and Robert and I are going on a demon hunt, and I don't know quite when we'll be back."
"Where are you going?" Kale asked in his usual policy of "ask now, think later."
"All over, which is why you have to stay with Amatis. We won't be able to take you with us everywhere."
"You're going to find the demon that killed Mommy and Daddy, aren't you?"
Yet again, Clary was astounded by Kale's perception.
"Yes," she admitted, "we are. We are going to find it and kill it to we'll all be safe."
"I know. But can't I come with you? I could help!" Kale's eye lit up with hopefulness.
Clary shook her head sadly. "I know that you are brave and you're very strong, but Buddy, I don't want to even have the risk of you getting hurt. Do you understand?" Clary looked deep into his eyes.
"Yes," he said, and he wrapped his small arms around her neck tightly. "I understand."
"Before you leave, though. We are going to go visit Mom and Dad."
Kale nodded sadly.
Just an hour later, Clary and Kale were at the cemetery, visiting the headstone that read:
Luke Garroway & Jocelyn Garroway
1971-2008 1971-2008
Beloved Husband and Wife
Beloved Parents
Clary and Kale came every year on the anniversary of their death; today marked five years that they had died. They came every year and left a dozen red roses on their graves. Though no bodies lay there, Clary had wanted something tangible to remember them by. To her, it was important that Kale remember and recognize that his parents had lived. But Clary did not just want the lonely brother and sister to remember Jocelyn and Luke; she wanted the world to remember them. Though somewhat unconventional couple were not well known in this world, Clary wanted anyone that passed by this melancholy patch of earth to know that these two people had lived. Even though the generations to come would not know or care about her parents, Clary wanted to leave a solid piece of their life behind.
As she kneeled next to Kale, her arms went around him, drawing him close. Clary tucked his small head under her chin and rocked him back and forth as he cried. Her tears intermingled with his.
"I know, Buddy, I know. It's okay; let it out."
Finally, his shaking body came to rest. He was spent. He looked up at Clary with his big, green eyes and whispered, "Let's go home. I need to go to Aunt Amatis's house."
Clary smiled, but suddenly, she could not move. Kale stood and tried to pull her up, but he could not.
"Clary, what's wrong?" He asked, "Why aren't you getting up?"
"I can't," Clary wheezed as she fell to the ground. She managed to force her sleeve away from her wrist, pushing it up as far as she could. Beneath the clothes, her arm glowed a sickly green and oozed blood from the cut she had received two days ago. She collapsed on the ground, her face pressed to the aromatic earth beneath her. She managed to take her cell phone from the coat pocket and press the speed dial button that connected her to Beck. Pressing call, she struggled to lift her arm to Kale, folding his fingers around the phone.
"Tell… Beck. Tell him to come…. I don't know what's wrong…. Kale, please." Gasping for air, Clary looked up at her brother. She couldn't move. The last thing she remembered before she passed out was Kale's terrified face as he screamed into the phone.
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These are the questions I would like you to answer:
Is Jace tortured enough, or should I keep going with this little tangent?
What else would you like to see in this story?
Who do you want Clary to end up with…? Jace or Beck?
What can I do to improve my writing?
Do you want numerous short chapters (approximately 2,000-3,500 words) or fewer long chapters (approximately 4,000-6,500 words)?
As always, any reviews = Spoiler.
Answer all of the questions and you'll get a DOUBLE spoiler!
P.S. I have no idea how old Luke and Jocelyn are. If it was mentioned in the books and I missed it, please leave it in the reviews so I can fix it. Obviously this story takes place in the near future. I didn't want to screw up the dates too badly.
Peace and Love,
SpeakNow1118
