Heyo nerdlings, here is a new chapter of my story that I hope yall will at least semi-enjoy. The computer with my stories on it had another virus, courtesy of my younger siblings, so I'm sorry for the delayed posting. As usual I own nothing except new characters and ideas, I make no money from writing, and all rights go to the rightful owners. To see character outfits and pictures then head on over to my Polyvore Noellamonster.
"They would have killed her, Clary," Jace said. I rubbed the sleep from my eyes, for once I had actually got a semi-decent night's sleep. And then duty called. "These are the same men who killed my father. The only reason she may still be alive now is that they can't find the Cup. Be glad she hid it so well."
"I don't really see what any of this has to do with us," Alec said, looking blearily through his hair. Jace had woken the rest of the Institute's residents at the crack of dawn and dragged them to the library to, as he said, "devise battle strategies." Alec was still in his pajamas, Isabelle in a pink peignoir set. Hodge, in his usual sharp tweed suit, was drinking coffee out of a chipped blue ceramic mug. Only Jace, bright-eyed despite fading bruises, looked really awake. "I thought the search for the Cup was in the hands of the Clave now."
"It's just better if we do this ourselves," said Jace impatiently. "Hodge and I already discussed it and that's what we decided."
"Well." Isabelle tucked a pink-ribboned braid behind her ear. "I'm game."
"I'm not," Alec said. "There are operatives of the Clave in this city right now looking for the Cup. Pass the information on to them and let them get it."
"Alec, if we want this done right and soon then we need to get our asses out there. Pull on your big boy pants, the Clave can't possibly be right all the time." He looked surprised I had even talked about the Clave, I don't think I ever have.
"It's not that simple," Jace agreed.
"It is simple." Alec sat forward, frowning. "This has nothing to do with us and everything to do with your—your addiction to danger." I elbowed him hard, giving him a disapproving look. Which of course he returned both.
Jace shook his head, clearly exasperated. "I don't understand why you're fighting me on this."
"Jace, he's your parabati, he's allowed to worry for your safety. Especially after all you've thrown yourself into. You haven't let yourself take even the smallest of breaks. He's just trying to look after you since you don't seem capable of doing it yourself."
"I am perfectly capable and perfectly fine." His bruises and exasperated breaths when no one was around suggested otherwise. "Look, Dorothea—the owner of the Sanctuary—doesn't trust the Clave. Hates them, in fact. She does trust us."
"She trusts me," said Clary. "I don't know about you. I'm not sure she likes you at all."
Jace ignored her. "Come on, Alec. It'll be fun. And think of the glory if we bring the Mortal Cup back to Idris! Our names will never be forgotten."
"I don't care about glory," said Alec, his eyes never leaving Jace's face. "I care about not doing anything stupid."
"In this case, however, Jace is right," said Hodge. "If the Clave were to come to the Sanctuary, it would be a disaster. Dorothea would flee with the Cup and would probably never be found. No, Jocelyn clearly wanted only one person to be able to find the Cup, and that is Clary, and Clary alone." it made sense, only she has the power to free the cup. If someone else got to it first, then it would forever just be a tarot card.
"Then let her go alone," said Alec, that earned another jab to his ribcage.
"Even I think that's fucked up Alec, we need to do this." He huffed and ran a hand through his bed hair.
Even Isabelle gave a little gasp at that. Jace, who had been leaning forward with his hands flat on the desk, stood up straight and looked at Alec coolly. Not once had Clary taken her eyes off of Jace, not even when Alec made the cruel remark. "If you're afraid of a few Forsaken, by all means stay home," he said softly. He knew exactly what cords to strike. A disturbing feeling in the pit of my gut bubbled, something bad was going to happen.
Alec went white. "I'm not afraid," he said, he had never looked so betrayed.
"Good," said Jace. "Then there's no problem, is there?" He looked around the room. "We're all in this together."
Alec mumbled an affirmative, while Isabelle shook her head in a vigorous nod. "Sure," she said. "It sounds fun."
"I don't know about fun," said Clary. "But I'm in, of course."
"But Clary," Hodge said quickly. "If you are concerned about the danger, you don't need to go. We can notify the Clave—"
"No," Clary stopped him. "My mom wanted me to find it. Not Valentine, and not them, either." She paused, thinking I assume. "If she really spent her whole life trying to keep Valentine away from this thing, this is the least I can do."
Hodge smiled at her. "I think she knew you would say that," he said, something in his smile made me uneasy.
"Don't worry, anyway," Isabelle said. "You'll be fine. We can handle a couple of Forsaken. They're crazy, but they're not very smart."
"And a lot easier to deal with than demons," said Jace. "Not so tricky. Oh, and we're going to need a car," he added. "Preferably a big one."
"Why?" said Isabelle. "We've never needed a car before."
Walking from my room I noticed Alec waiting across the hall. "I can't handle her anymore Aurie" his fists were balled tightly, "She's going to get him killed!"
"No, she's not. You know this is all his choice, eventually he would have thrown himself into something risky. At least this time he has us, he has people backing him."
He shook his head with a sigh, "It's her fault, let's go."
"It's not, deep down you know that. You just need someone to blame." Despite his heavy silence I followed him through the halls and out to the front. Rain plummeted to the earth, fizzling the muggy heat and filling our lungs with the sense of newness, clean, fresh. As of right now, barely any sun shone in the sky, reminding me of Raphael. Oddly.
He and I have met up each night, usually in the park. Alec had discouraged me but an eavesdropping Isabelle rained on his parade, of course she didn't care that he was a down-worlder. She had her own flings with them. But as I got to know Raphael more I knew this wouldn't be some fling. It would be something that hurt us both in the end. It would leave us vulnerable and gasping for air when it ended. Although I don't think he actually needed to breathe. Probably just a habit from when he was alive.
Soon enough Simon drove up to the curb and we piled in, disgruntled 'Heys' being shared between the boys.
My hair was now drenched. Frustratingly I threw it up into double buns, space buns, whatever the fuck people call these things. Isabelle laid with her head in my lap as we talked, using up the time it took to get to where Clary used to call home.
"Clary!" Dorothea exclaimed, and swept Clary into an overwhelming embrace. For a moment Clary struggled, embroiled in a sea of perfumed flesh, swaths of velvet, and the tasseled ends of Dorothea's shawl. "Good Lord, girl," said the witch, shaking her head until her earrings swung like wind chimes in a storm. "The last time I saw you, you were disappearing through my Portal. Where'd you end up?"
"Williamsburg," said Clary, catching her breath.
Dorothea's eyebrows shot skyward. "And they say there's no convenient public transportation in Brooklyn." She swung the door open and gestured for them to come in.
I walked in last, the dreadful feeling bubbling worse, making me feel so sick. I shook it off and stayed close to Alec.
I looked around, the place was nowhere near simple, it was crowded with objects and furniture. On a plain wooden table with a draped cloth over it lay the tarot cards and a crystal ball. I looked over to Clary, her eyes darted between the stack of cards and Dorothea.
I had only briefly met her once but she seemed so different. But maybe that was paranoia, maybe I was just making things up to quell the uneasy feeling washing over me.
Dorothea sank gratefully into an armchair and regarded each of us with a stare as beady as the eyes of the stuffed canary on her hat. Scented candles burned in dishes on either side of the table, which did little to dispel the thick stench pervading every inch of the house. "I take it you haven't located your mother?" she asked Clary.
"Alec" I whispered, Isabelle came closer looking uninterested. "I have a bad feeling, it's overpowering. Something is going to happen, maybe, it doesn't feel right. This. It all feels off. It's making me sick. It also smells so horrible in here, that might be part of it."
Thick tendrils of smoke creeped up from the candles, their scent doing nothing to diminish the smell of something rotting. "Do you need air?" Isabelle took hold of my arm. "I can go out there with you."
"No. Just be careful." I shook my head, it had started to pound, a migraine most likely. I stripped off my flannel, tying it around my waist. "It's getting hot in here, right?"
"Yeah actually" Alec looked over to where Clary and Jace stood. We all turned. In her hand gleamed the mortal cup, Dorothea eyed it greedily, something flashing in her eyes, something inhuman.
"It's the Mortal Cup, Jace, not the Mortal Toilet Bowl," said Isabelle. "Are we done now? Can we go?"
Dorothea had her head cocked to one side, her beady eyes bright and interested. "But it's damaged!" she exclaimed. "How did that happen?"
"Damaged?" Clary looked at the Cup in bewilderment. It looked perfectly fine to me, I didn't see thee damage she was talking about.
"Here," said the witch, "let me show you," and she took a step toward Clary, holding her long red-nailed hands out for the Cup. She shrunk back, a weary look crossing her face. Suddenly Jace was between them, his hand hovering near the sword at his waist.
"No offense," he said calmly, "but nobody touches the Mortal Cup except us."
I dragged my blades out, holding them at my sides. Alec gave me a warning look.
Dorothea looked at him for a moment, and that same strange blankness returned to her eyes. "Now," she said, "let's not be hasty. Valentine would be displeased if anything were to happen to the Cup."
With a soft snick, the sword at Jace's waist came free. The point hovered just below Dorothea's chin. Jace's look was steady. "I don't know what this is about," he said. "But we're leaving."
The old woman's eyes gleamed. "Of course, Shadow hunter," she said, backing up to the curtained wall. "Would you like to use the Portal?"
The point of Jace's sword wavered as he stared in momentary confusion, then realization seeped into him, his jaw tightened, gaze hardened. "Don't touch that—"
Dorothea chuckled, and quick as a flash she jerked down the curtains hanging along the wall. They fell with a sound of soft collapse. The Portal behind them was open.
Someone sucked in a breath "What is that?" A nightmare realm lay beyond the door—red roiling clouds shot through with black lightning, and a terrible dark, rushing shape that hurtled toward them—when Jace shouted for them to get down. He dropped to the floor, yanking Clary down with him.
I dropped, dragging Isabelle with me. The rushing dark thing strikes Madame Dorothea, who screamed, thrusting her arms upward. Rather than knocking her down, the dark thing wrapped her like a shroud, its blackness seeming to seep into her like ink sinking into paper. Her back humped monstrously, her whole shape elongating as she rose and rose into the air, her bulk stretching and re-forming. A sharp rattle of objects striking the floor made us look down: They were Dorothea's bracelets, twisted and broken. Scattered among the jewels were what looked like small white stones. Not stones. Teeth. Teeth fell so closely to our faces.
Next to us, Alec in a choked voice said, "But you said there wasn't much demonic activity—you said the levels were low!"
"By the Angel," Jace said, looking the demon up and down. "I knew Greater Demons were meant to be ugly, but no one ever warned me about the smell."
Abbadon opened its mouth and hissed. Inside its mouth were two rows of jagged glass-sharp teeth.
"I'm not so sure about this wind and howling darkness business," Jace went on, "smells more like landfill to me. You sure you're not from Staten Island?"
The demon leaped at him. Jace whipped his blades up and outward with an almost frightening speed; both sank into the fleshiest part of the demon, its abdomen. It howled and struck at him, knocking him aside the way a cat might bat aside a kitten. Jace rolled and got to his feet.
My swords dug into the demons' neck, dragging them down with me as I fell. Anger rippled through its massive body. I groaned as I landed on the hard wood, white hot pain searing through my back, momentarily blurring my vision. I was barely able to roll away from its fist.
That was enough for Isabelle. Darting forward, she lashed out at the demon with her whip. It struck the demon's gray hide, and a red welt appeared, welling blood. Abbadon ignored her, moving toward Jace.
With his uninjured hand Jace drew out a second seraph blade. He whispered to it and it sprung free, bright and gleaming. He raised it as the demon loomed up before him; he looked impossibly small in front of it, a child dwarfed by a monster. And he was grinning, even as the demon reached for him. Isabelle, screaming, lashed at it, sending blood in a thick spray across the floor—
The demon struck, its razored hand lashing down at Jace. Jace staggered back, but he was unharmed. Something had thrown itself between him and the demon, a slim black shadow with a gleaming blade in its hand. Alec. The demon shrieked— Alec's featherstaff had pierced its skin. With a snarl, it struck again, bone-talons catching Alec a vicious blow that lifted him off his feet and hurled him against the far wall. He struck with a sickening crunch and slid to the floor.
Isabelle screamed her brother's name. He didn't move. Lowering the whip, she started to run to him. The demon, turning, noticing her weakness. I threw myself forward, my swards slicing through the creatures' fingers. They narrowly missed Isabelle, her eyes wide as she got to Alec.
"Aurelia!" she screamed, I wasn't fast enough. Something hard slammed into me, the pain in my back reemerging as I flew into the glass window; shattering it entirely. These were my screams I was hearing, a shard of glass stuck out from my arm, blood dripped down my arm as I stood. Simon ran from the van in horror, the bow in his hand.
"Go, help them. Greater demon." I grunted as I fell to my knees, unbearable pain rattled through me. I fell to my knees, glass stuck into my exposed skin. "Bad day for shorts" I breathed hard as I slowly tried standing again.
Arms came around me, Clarys, she helped me stand and get into the van. Jace worked on removing all the glass from my legs and arms, the largest piece he wouldn't touch until we got to the institute. He worried I would bleed out. He healed my legs and back before he went back to caring for Alec.
It hurt when Simon drove, my arm throbbed. I had moved down and was slowly stroking Alecs cheek, humming softly. Color appeared to slowly be flooding into his skin again.
"How…how are you doing that?" Isabelle was exasperated, her eyes wide. "What is happening?"
"Healing, don't question it now" Jace snapped, "Sing, stop humming and sing dammit!" he demanded. I did as ordered. Somehow, magically, it was working. Even Isabelle and Jace looked to be feeling better. As if their energy was renewed, minor cuts and bruises slowly healing.
In the infirmary, they fussed over Alec, Jace and Isabelle quickly pulled the glass out and healed the wound. I sat singing to him as they worked. Jace left, unable to bear seeing his parabati like this any longer.
