Chapter 11

Jocelyn couldn't believe that she'd agreed to this. More importantly, she couldn't stand the idea of Clary going to a party at Magnus Bane's house. Still, if it was important….

After fifteen minutes of pacing and pondering, she still hadn't been able to think of a good reason to invite Robert and Maryse over. She'd given up and texted Maryse, emergency!, and had rationalized that she'd think of a good justification for the meeting.

Jocelyn heard a knock on the door. She put her painting materials away, and tried to sober her expression. She remembered when she would try stunts like this when she was a teenager…

"Hello, Jocelyn." said Maryse when Jocelyn answered the door. "What is the meaning of this meeting at your… residence…" she said that last part with disdain.

Jocelyn sighed. Clearly, Maryse wasn't used to normal customs, like inviting someone over for tea at someone's apartment. Still, she beckoned Maryse and Robert inside and gestured towards the stools near the island. "You might want to sit down for this one."

She'd cursed herself for being so thoughtless, wondering how to buy herself some time. It was 11:00, and she needed to distract Robert and Maryse for at least fifteen minutes. But she'd finally thought of a reason to talk to Maryse and Robert, a reason that she believed in.

But in case it didn't work, she had to start with something that wouldn't drive them away immediately.

"Well," said Jocelyn. "I was wondering if… you wanted to be in my wedding."

She grimaced.

"What?" said Maryse. "You dragged us all the way to your apartment at eleven o'clock on account of your 'emergency', and all you wanted to do was ask us to be in your wedding? Unbelievable."

"Maryse." Robert warned.

But his wife had already started her rant. "I have an institute to run! You could have asked me this over the phone. Come on, Robert. We need to make sure that the children are staying out of trouble."

"Wait!" Jocelyn exclaimed. "That's not it."

Maryse looked exasperated. "Then what is it?"

Jocelyn took a deep breath. "Are you sure that your ban of downworlders from the institute wasn't a little bit harsh?" she poured two glasses of tea and put them in front of her guests.

Maryse sighed. "Jocelyn, we've been through this. It's imperative that we take the greatest precautions possible—"

"Precautions?" Jocelyn interjected. "I've known Simon since he was a little boy and I know that he'd never do anything to hurt Clary or any of her friends."

"But—"

"I know that all of this is because of your hatred of downworlders." Jocelyn spat. "Just because you've been punished for your actions against them doesn't mean that you still don't have some deep down prejudice."

Robert looked taken aback. At first he said nothing, but then, softly, his voice shaking with rage, he said. "That's enough Jocelyn."

"Don't act like it isn't true." Jocelyn went on, pointing the anger she didn't know she had at Robert. "You pretended like you weren't okay with Alec's sexuality, when really, you were upset that he was dating a warlock. A downworlder."

"I said that's enough!" Robert barked.

Maryse put a hand on his shoulder and narrowed her eyes at Jocelyn. "You are medaling in matters that are none of your business, Jocelyn. I suggest that you retract that statement before it's too late."

Jocelyn closed her eyes. She had not meant for things to go like this. "Look, all I want you to do is refrain from putting all downworlders in a box. I'm sorry about what I said, but looking at your history with the Circle, it is plausible that you could have some pent up hatred."

"I guess you're right. But we must be going." said Maryse. "Meanwhile, I will consider your argument."

Jocelyn put their untouched tea in the sink and said, "But will you consider my offer?"

Maryse looked confused. "What do you mean?"

"About the wedding."

"I will consider it. All the more reason why we need to leave, so we can consider your offer in the comfort of the institute."

They said their goodbyes, and Jocelyn shut the door behind them. Then, she realized something: she hadn't kept them for fifteen minutes. All she could do was hope that there would be traffic on the way home.

Maia watched sleepily as Isabelle worked on Clary's hair. It was only 11:30; she shouldn't have been that tired. Still, she tried to remain conscious, because the party hadn't even begun.

Sure, she'd been to a fair amount of werewolf parties, but she'd heard from various sources that Magnus's get-togethers were the best: crazy, extravagant, and exclusive. She could tell that she was in for a wild night.

Earlier, Isabelle had called to invite Maia dress shopping with them, but Maia had declined. She hated shopping, and had been pretty sure that she could dig something up on her own.

Isabelle grinned and squealed, "My work here is done."

As usual, Clary looked gorgeous. She wore a short, sparkly crimson dress with a square neckline. The top part fit tightly, while the skirt, light and flowy, moved with the slightest wind. Her fiery red hair was pulled to the side in an intricately crafted fishtail, and one lock hung by her face, highlighting her features. The Morgenstern ring, hung on a chain, acted as a necklace. Maia looked down at her skinny jeans, combat boots and snug, V-neck plum shirt. Maybe she should have gone shopping with Clary and Isabelle after all.

"Thanks," said Clary, who went over to sit next to Maia.

"You're welcome." Isabelle's eyes wandered over to Maia. "Hmm. There must be something I can… Oh! I got it." She gestured to her vanity chair. "Have you ever considered straitening your hair?"

Maia took her golden-brown curls out of their pony tail. She shook them out. "No…"

But Isabelle had already plugged in the flat-iron. "Trust me. You won't be disappointed."

Simon and Jordan crossed the street to the institute. It was about 11:45, and Simon feared that they would be late. He hoped that Isabelle would approve of his outfit: dark jeans without holes in them, decent tennis shoes and, after a lot of digging, a navy-blue, long-sleeved shirt with out words or a logo on it.

"Are you sure about this?" said Jordan.

"Yeah." answered Simon. "Clary said that she had this all worked out. Now all we have to do is wait downstairs while they get ready."

"Wait a second." They'd crossed the street by now, and were nearing the door of the institute. "Aren't you, like, not able to enter the institute, since you're a vampire?"

That used to be the case. But Clary had brought up the prospect that maybe he wasn't damned, like he'd thought he was. And sure enough, his newfound belief had given him the ability to enter haloed ground. But he didn't want to explain all of that to Jordan, so all he said was, "I guess that rule doesn't apply to me."

He rang the bell to the institute, and a few moments later, Clary, breathtaking in her red dress and lipstick, beckoned them inside. There had been a time when Simon would have been aching with desire at the sight of Clary dressed up like this, but that time had passed.

Simon went in without a problem, and awaited the arrival of the rest of the girls. What they could be doing up there, only people of the female gender knew. Alec was already waiting in the foyer, tapping his foot and checking his watch.

Finally, Isabelle came down, with Maia by her side. She looked stunning. Her pencil dress, a midnight blue, was made of leather with a heart-shaped, plunging neckline. Her ebony hair, now in loose curls, bounced as she neared Simon. Unfortunately, her high-heeled shoes made her appear an inch taller when standing next to him.

"You look beautiful." he told her.

"Thank you." Isabelle beamed.

"I think we're going to be late." stated Alec.

"Alec, if you'd been to any real parties, you'd know that no one arrives to a party on time." Isabelle said with affection. "And besides, do you have any other colors besides gray, black and dark gray?"

Alec shrugged. He seemed perfectly content in his black pants and grey shirt.

Maia, standing next to Jordan, seemed to be growing impatient. "Are we leaving or what?"

Jordan kissed her head and opened the door, everyone else filing out behind him. A black taxi stopped in front of the institute.

"Quick, everyone hide!" Alec whispered loudly. "That could be our parents."

Everyone jumped behind nearby bushes as the doors to the taxi swung open. Sure enough, Robert and Maryse emerged from the vehicle, walking briskly toward the institute after paying the driver. As soon as they passed all of the hiding places, Alec nodded and everyone ran towards the cab, before the driver could drive away.

Alec gave the man a fifty dollar bill and said, "Floor it," while everyone piled into the back. It was a tight, almost impossible fit, and Alec rode shotgun. Simon was squeezed between Clary and Isabelle, and as far as he was concerned, that wasn't a bad situation to be in. He looked out the window to see Maryse running towards them.

"Alec Gideon Lightwood!" she exclaimed.

"Floor it," Alec said again with urgency.

Maryse had almost made it to the car before they sped off.

Jordan had thought he'd known what to expect at a party: music, alcohol, a few drunken idiots, dancing, and etcetera. But what he didn't expect was a live circus. Acrobats hung from ropes on the ceiling, while men on stilts milled about. Magnus's apartment looked enormous, several time bigger than since he last visited, with high, intricately decorated ceilings, and several rooms centering around a giant dance floor.

The party appeared to be in full swing. Warlocks, fairies, vampires and werewolves danced and mingled, and circus girls passed out oddly colored drinks. People made out in corners, and passionately danced to the club music. The whole room was kept alight by different neon lamps.

Maia, who was standing right beside him, looked utterly entranced. "Whoa."

Magnus seemed to appear out of nowhere. He was dressed like a ringmaster, with a top hat, crimson tailcoat, and a ruffled shirt with a bowtie.

"Good-evening, guests." Magnus welcomed them with a flourish.

Simon looked around and whistled. "Pretty wild party you have here."

"Oh, please, this is one of the most low-key parties I've thrown in a while." Magnus looked over Simon. "Do you need a drink? You look like you could use a drink."

He walked over and led Simon to the bar at the side of the room. Isabelle, abandoned by her date, joined with Clary and disappeared with her into the crowd.

Jordan took Maia's hand and turned around to look at her. Maia was the only one of the girls without a dress on, a fact that made her all the more attractive. Her hair, newly straightened, hung a few inches past her shoulders.

"Come on," she said. "Let's dance."

Jordan bit his lower lip. Despite being one of the most skilled members of the Praetor Lupus, he lacked basic hand-eye coordination when it came to dancing. "I don't know how."

Maia laughed. It was a husky sound, but lively and warm. "Okay. Here's what we're going to do. I dance, and you step side to side with the music. Can you do that?"

The next song started, and she dragged Jordan onto the dance floor without waiting for an answer. She was a great dancer, and she moved around him with expert technique. Meanwhile, he stepped side to side, hoping that he was at least on beat with the music.

The song ended, and Jordan raised his eyebrows. "Did I do a good job?"

Maia smiled. He hadn't seen her smile like that in a long time. "You did exactly what I asked you to do."

She kissed him. He drowned in it, pulling her close. He didn't know how long it had been when a nearby fairy cleared her throat. They broke apart, and Jordan looked towards the bar, where Simon was sitting alone.

"I'm going to go check on Simon." he said. "Want to come with?"

"That sounds like a good idea." Maia answered.

The walked over, plopping down at the bar. Maia sat next to Jordan and Jordan sat on one side of Simon, who was chugging a cold mug of beer.

"Simon," said Jordan. His friend didn't seem to hear him. "Simon," he said again.

Simon drained the remains of the mug and set it down with a bang. He smiled lazily. "Oh. Hey you guys."

"Are you drinking?" asked Maia. She was usually laid-back, but now she looked appalled.

"Yeah."

"But your under-aged." Maia said.

Simon looked over at them and propped his chin on his hands. Although he was looking in their direction, his eyes were unfocused. Jordan could tell that this wasn't Simon's first beer.

"Oh, yeah. I said that to Magnus, but then he told me, 'Well, you will be for the rest of your life, so you might as well start now'. So I did." The bartender handed Simon a shot of alcohol, which Simon downed quickly.

Magnus did have a point. Simon did have a lot of things going on in his life right now; his sister and his sort-of friend had been taken by an evil mastermind. Who was Jordan to stop his friend from drowning his sorrows? Plus, he'd be there to carry him home.

Jordan patted Simon on the back. "Drink up, buddy."