Banner's link is on my profile.

Sorry if this wasn't incredibly fast. I've been real sick. :P

Rated M for: Language/Violence/Brief Torture Scene/Mature Content. Jace isn't exactly a sweetheart in this chapter. ;)

AN: You know what's weird? I just realized which story of mine I can't stand. Unexpected. Weird, since it was such a big hit and everything, but I just don't...I don't like it. But I won't delete it. I just surprised myself when I found that out. :/

By the way, this chapter has some of Jace's POV. Short. Violent. Probably one of the only chapters by him.

I forgot who asked: But Sebastian isn't crazy. He's just living at the asylum because his father works and lives there, also.

Sapling: Thanks so much. :) I heard some kid in my class talk about it, but he never mentioned the name. :P Can you believe I got the idea for this story from the class geek who was talking about how his mother used to work at an asylum before she got bitten by a little boy with clinical lycanthropy? O_O

Disclaimer: Cassie owns the characters. I just make 'em crazy and psychotic pyros. ;)

Jace

...

Replacement

...

I stared at her, watching her thrash against the wall, her screams like a bird's call; wild and terrifying.

Well...I smirked, bringing the match up to her scalp, and sighed contently as the top of her head caught on fire. The arousing scent of burning hair and skin filled the air, probably one of my favorite smells in the world.

Her hair was an orange-ish, kind of coppery color.

Her eyes were brown. Not green. So I had to tie a cloth around her face to cover her eyes. Pity. Seeing the fear and pain in the victim's eyes was always one of the best things about this.

I think her name was Madison. Mallory? No. It had to be Michelle. Or...Margaret?

I squinted, and brought my hand down on her head, slapping out the flames. Her red hair was gone, nothing but crisp, black skin now.

She sobbed. "Please," she moaned, thrashing against the binds that held her to the headboard of my bed. "Please let me go."

I tsk'ed under my breath, and brought a hand up to her right breast and gave it a tender squeeze.

Almost immediately, her scared whimper turned into a moan. "Oh," she gasped. "Jace-" I brought my hand over her mouth.

"You will not speak to me," I growled, my voice dangerously soft. This bitch had no right to call me by my "name". I'd sooner let Martha dress me in a white corset and pink skirt.

She nodded.

"Good." I set the used match on my bedsheet, and grabbed a small flask-Once filled with whiskey-that held a generous amount of gasoline. "Now, Madeline-"

"It's Claire."

Claire.

I felt pleased with myself. I'd done much better than I'd thought...

"Claire." I bent down, and brushed my lips over her throat, and licked up to her ear. She hissed, straining against the binds as she tried to thrust her hips up, relief herself.

"Did you happen to slip some Clorox into the newbie's milk, yesterday?" I ran my hand down and across her abdomen, and traced lightly over her jean-clad pussy.

Claire groaned. "Mmm. Yeah, yeah," she panted, trying to put more pressure against my hand. "Yessss," she hissed when I slapped down. "I did. But the bitch didn't drink it."

I nodded. "Are you a naughty little girl? Tryin' to kill her?"

Claire was breathing heavily. "I'm a bad girl, Jace."

I drew my hand away, abruptly. "I don't like bad girls, Claire." I did my best to keep my voice sympathetic, disappointed, but I really couldn't have cared less. This would've ended the same way, whether I was attracted to her or not.

In fact...I squinted. She looked familiar. I think she was one of the chicks who had a problem with jealousy, maybe? Killed her five-month-old sister because she couldn't stand not having the spotlight all the time. And I knew this, because she bitched about it three weeks ago to me, as if she thought I cared about her boring-ass life. Brat.

I shut her up.

Amazing how sliding a cock down a spoiled girl's throat can get her to quiet down easily.

"You weren't saying that three Mondays ago," she sneered, as if she wasn't the one tied up with a cloth over her eyes. Fucking idiot.

I scoffed. "Claire, I wasn't saying a lot of things three Mondays ago." Yep. It'd been a lucky day for me, alright.

She hissed in a breath. "I cared about you, Jace," she whispered. "I thought you cared about me. You were the only one, and I was just, what? The thirty-eighth of seventy?"

"Bullshit," I said, conversationally, and began pouring the gasoline onto the sheets, around her body. "There is no way you were a virgin. Besides..." I leaned forward. "If it makes you feel any better, it's not you, it's me."

She screamed in anger, and tried to get free. Tough, bitch.

If you didn't look like her, I wouldn't have to do this to you.

"And I told you..." I poured gasoline across her belly, chest, face. "Not to call me Jace." I struck a match.

Dropped it on her.

And unlike many other times, I didn't laugh at her screams to make it stop, help me, pleases.

I was thinking about a smaller girl tied to the bed, screaming and burning. Hair darker. Eyes green. Curves smaller.

To my disgust, I felt revulsion at that thought.

I gotta get rid of her.

She's screwing up my head.

Clary

...

Alec's Attack

...

I didn't get out of bed.

I didn't get up. Not even for breakfast.

I didn't acknowledge Izzy, when she scratched puzzedly at my feet.

I stared at the pictures in my hand.

Amazing, how something that had happened years ago could screw up somebody so much, twelve years later.

I turned on my side, and rubbed my face in my pillow. Why was I still thinking about him? He'd called me a whore. He'd tried to kill me.

When I get out of here, I'll forget all about him.

The door opened, and Alec-To my surprise-walked in.

"Clary." His face was calm, neutral. But there was something...Not right.

Unease curled in my stomach, and I sat up, laying my head against the iron-barred headboard. "Hey, Alec. What're you doing in here? Where's Magnus?"

Alec smiled tightly. "Maggie's with Jace, right now."

Thank God it's just Maggie, not Martha.

"Oh. So what's up?" Alec was twitchy looking. Almost...Like he was restraining against something.

He took a deep breath. "Maia told us that you were coming."

I looked at him, curiously. "Yeah. I am."

"You can't come."

I froze. I couldn't go? But..."Why not?" I demanded, tossing aside my covers and standing up, though it didn't really make me feel any taller.

Alec swallowed. "Because you're unlucky. You're cursed."

I stared at him. "I'm-cursed?"

He nodded. "Yes. Your blood is stained with evil. Your presense will only bring death and chaos." His bright, husky-blue eyes were beginning to twitch, his face growing paler.

What's going on with him?

What the heck's wrong with Alec?

"Alec." I inhaled, slowly. "What are you saying?"

He stared at me, his expression somber. "Clary, you aren't welcome here. Already you've caused Martha to come out more than she ever has, you've made Maggie more possessive, and surely you've realized Jace has been murdering more people than he's ever killed before?"

I was silent.

Alec drew a plastic bag from behind his back. "I'm sorry, Clary," he said, sadly. "You're a sweet girl. I like you. But the bugs, they're wanting to break out of your skin-they need to be free-the blood is bad-" He broke off with a terrifying scream, and launched himself at me.

I cried, and jumped out of the way, crashing into the sharp corner of the short little table next to my bed.

Alec landed on my bed, and immediately rolled into a crouch, looking strikingly like his sister as he did so. The plastic bag was in his hands. What did he plan to do with the bag?

"Alec." I cursed my stupidity for leaping into the table as I clutched my throbbing ribs, and stared at him. "Alec, what the heck is going on?"

But from the lost, crazed look in his eyes, I doubted that he'd heard me.

"Kill her-evil blood-bad luck-bugs clawing-AHHH!" He was suddenly on top of me, and the bag was thrown over my head.

I screamed, and thrashed, banging my head into the dresser.

"Die soon-blood-Love Magnus-"

It was starting to get harder to breathe.

He was trying to suffocate me.

"Clary. Why haven't I seen you?"

I heard Simon. I couldn't see him.

His voice echoed through my head, again. "Do you not need me anymore, Clary?" His voice, so full of confidence and flirtatiousness, was hurt. "Are you replacing me with your new friends? Why don't you love me, anymore?"

I do need you, I wanted to shout. But I couldn't breathe. My chest felt tight. You're all that I need. You never called me a whore, you never tried to kill me. You were there when nobody else was.

Images of Simon holding me when I was four, crying softly with blood running from my nose from one of my father's drunken punches, crooning that I would be alright, letting me wipe my tears and blood on his shirt.

Simon hiding in my closet with me when I was six, promising he'd protect me from my mother's hateful words, as she was throwing furniture at the locked door, screaming at me to come out, come out and face my father, for I was the one he was angry at, not her.

Simon braiding my hair when I was seven, because my mother never touched me. Simon pushing me on the swings when I was eight, because I was the only one there without a parent or sibling, and I couldn't swing myself.

Simon tucking me in bed, despite the fact he thought it was stupid, because I wanted to feel cared for.

Simon scaring dogs when they would try to chase me, because for some reason, animals could "sense" him, as he said.

Simon, my only friend.

Simon, my brother.

I'd hardly spoken to him, for the majority of the time I'd been here.

I'm sorry, Simon.

"You don't need me anymore," he whispered, his voice getting fainter. "You have them now."

Please don't leave me Simon. I love you.

"You love Jace more."

I don't want to.

"I'm not real, Clary. Your friends...They're real."

I'm sorry you're not real. If you were, you'd be my brother.

"I am your brother, Clary."

Then don't go away.

"Your boyfriend's here."

He was gone.

I could feel an emptiness, Simon's presense wasn't there, anymore.

The bag was pulled off my head, and I opened my eyes, inhaling deeply as I panted for breath.

"Scar-Face." Maia's concerned face hovered over mine. "Are you crying?"

I shook my head, putting a hand to my cheek, startled to feel the sticky wetness there.

"What happened?" I whispered, still taking gulps of breath. "Why did Alec try to kill me?"

Maia squinted at me. "Because the fucker's crazy," she said. "Duh. That's why he's in a fucking insane asylum."

Why was she so angry?

"Are you mad at me?"

"No." She sighed. "I'm mad at Alec. He said he liked you. He said he didn't see anything-feel-anything wrong with you. But he lied."

"Where is he?" The room was empty, other than Maia and I.

She shrugged. "Jordan and Jace hauled him off. Maggie's locked up in Jace's room, in case she decides to anything nutty. Otherwise, Magnus would be the only one to calm him down."

I stared at her. "Jace took him?" Why would he? He doesn't care.

Maia grinned. "Yeah. I came here to check on you, since you didn't show up for breakfast. Jordan got Jace." She waved her hand. "But whatever. Are you alright?"

Guilty. Angry. Hurt. Only a little bit betrayed.

"I'm alright."

Maia didn't look like she believed me. "If you say so." She stood up. "Are you hungry? Do you need anything?"

I stood. "I'm fine, thanks." I frowned at her. "What's wrong?" She wasn't normally the type to freak out, I'd thought.

She shook her head. "It's Jordan. Magnus. Jace. Alec. Izzy. You. It's so much to handle, sometimes." She gave me a tired smile. "Sorry. It's just stressful to have a friend who's always being attacked."

I smiled. She'd just called me her friend.

Then I felt a pang in my chest.

Simon.

"Actually, I think I'm going to take a bath." I felt my hands begin to shake. What I really wanted to do was stay in bed, but I suppose that wasn't very safe either. Nor relaxing.

Maia nodded, but the muscles around her mouth were still tense.

"Go find Jordan." I wanted to pat her shoulder, show her some comfort, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. I was horrible at comforting people. "Calm down. I'm fine."

She nodded again, and turned to walk out of the room.

I grabbed the folder, sliding it into one of my pockets, and cautiously stepped into the hallway.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

Alec.

Frowning, I began walking toward the direction of the sobbing.

Kneeling on the floor, Alec was recieving punch after punch from Jace, who's angelic face was contorted with a rage I was beginning to become extremely familiar with.

"Sorry?" Jace sneered. "You aren't sorry. You didn't take your medication, Alec. Do you remember what happened last time?"

The apologeticness faded into a furious expression. "Hypocrite," Alec spat out. "You've killed plenty of people."

"I've never nailed a snake into a seven-year-old girl's skull, Alec." Jace's voice was flat. "I can control myself."

"She was a spawn of the devil!" Alec thrashed against Jace's grip. "Snake venom absorbs that!"

Jace rolled his eyes. "Take your damn pills, Alec." His voice was disgusted as he dropped a small container into Alec's hands. "Leave Clary alone. If she's going to die, it's going to be by me, not by your twisted, delusional fantasies."

I cleared my throat. "Fantasies?"

Jace turned to look at me. His yellow eyes were glowing. "I thought I smelled a whore." He smirked. "What do you want? Alec?"

I shook my head.

I'm not a w-h-o-r-e.

"Because if you were, Alec likes cock."

I nodded. "I know. Stop punching him."

Jace let go of Alec's shoulders. "Oooh." A predatorial gleam rose in his eyes. "Dominating personality. Now that's even sexier than that innocent act you've got going on."

A memory of Starkfeather saying something similar to that flashed through my mind. I curled my hands into fists. If that's how you want to play it.

"I thought you would like it," I said, softly. "Seeing as you grew up with a dominant male."

Jace stiffened, and his eyes went blank. "I don't know what you're talking about, cutie."

"I'm pretty sure I do, Jason."

He stared at me.

I didn't feel bad about saying that. I probably should've. But I didn't.

"And you should know that it doesn't feel good to be pushed down and punched like you're doing to Alec. Am I right?"

Jace was silent.

I smirked. "I am right. And you were weak. You were a poor, defenseless little boy, beaten by his f-" Jace was suddenly in front of me.

Alec was sitting on the floor, a dazed look on his face. I guess he'd already taken his medicine.

His face bent down, and I saw a fire in Jace's eyes. Unlike any I'd seen in them before.

And that was when I realized I should not have said that.

Jace reached an arm around my waist, and pulled me flush against him.

His mouth moved to my ear.

"You think you're so clever, little girl," he murmured, his warm breath causing me to shiver. "So sneaky."

I swallowed, hard. To my horror, I felt myself begin to get wet. Again.

Dang him.

He chuckled. It was rough, not amused. "You know, Clary..." He reached his hand down, grabbing my hip roughly. "I think I should've killed you instead of letting Aline getting to try."

I looked at him, my eyelids feeling heavy. I was lost in his scent. His eyes, hungry with something.

"I think I will." Jace reached into his pocket, and pulled out a short, slightly curved, dagger. I stared at him, my breath coming out in heavy pants. I could feel his hardness, pressing against my stomach. That same hardness that feels so good pressed against me.

"What do you think, sweetheart?" Jace hummed, pressing the cool blade against my jaw, the sharp edge gliding along my skin. "Should I cut your pretty little throat? Stab you repeatedly in the chest?" He brought the tip of the knife down, slowly cutting through my white dress and unbuttoning the jacket.

He inhaled at the sight of my bare chest.

I winced, abruptly embarassed, and brought my arms up to cover myself-

"Hide yourself and I won't hesitate to run this knife through your tight little stomach."

I dropped my arms.

Jace made a purring sound. "You're so pretty," he crooned huskily. "It'd be a shame to scar up your tight little body, wouldn't it, Clary?" Malice filled his eyes. "Just like your face."

Instead of feeling hurt, I raised my chin. "Not all pretty things are perfect. Like your mother. She let you get beaten, didn't she? Let you take the beating instead of having it done to herself-?" Well, that's what my mother did, at least.

Jace shoved me against the wall, his hand wrapping around my throat. "Don't talk about my mother," he snarled, his face pressed against mine, eyes glowing and furious.

I laughed, gleeful. Yet another sensitive subject for Jace. From now on, I wouldn't be the only one getting hurt.

"Stop laughing, you little bitch," he snapped.

I shook my head. "Oh, Jace. You aren't going to hurt me." Silly, since he's killed so many people. Girls included.

Jace raised an eyebrow. "No?" He ran a hand down my collarbone, and down to one of my small mounds. "Does this hurt?" His eyes never left mine as he gave one of my nipples a sharp pinch.

I hissed and threw my head back, my hips automatically thrusting forward against his. "No. So good."

He smirked, and pulled his hand away.

I made a whining noise, then froze. Jerk. He did that on purpose.

"Does this hurt?" He brought the knife against my throat, and pressed down with the blade, causing a small bead of blood to break through the skin.

I was too nervous to nod or speak.

Jace chuckled. "See, Clary..." He ran his hands over both breasts roughly, the knife held carefully between two fingers.

I gasped at the contact, biting my lower lip.

"I have so much control over you. Your body. Your mind." He leaned down, and caught one of the pointed-nipples between his mouth.

I squealed, and my hands shot down in his locks, torn between pulling him away and pushing him farther into my chest.

He hummed around me, the virbations shooting down into where I was already dripping.

I pulled at his hair, digging my nails into my scalp. "Jesus, Jace." He bit down lightly, and I felt my eyes roll back.

Pulling away, he smirked at me, his eyes triumphant. "You think about me all the time. Admit it."

I shook my head. "Never."

Jace tsked and ran his hands down below my hips, and gathered up my skirt, pushing it above my waist.

His eyes grew darker as he looked down. "Fuck, you're so wet." His hand went there, giving it a slap.

I tried to stifle the scream between clenched teeth. "Oh."

"Do. You. Think. About. Me?" His eyes bored into mine. "Lie to me again, and I'm going to walk away without finishing with you."

For some reason, the thought of him leaving me at a desperate time like this, made me feel scared. "Don't leave me." Simon had left, already. Maia left for Jordan. Magnus was never really Magnus. Alec was...I don't even know what he was. And Izzy wasn't reliable.

"I do," I whispered. "I think about you all the time."

"And that's why you took my files." Jace raised an eyebrow. "Why?"

"Because I love you."

Jace let go of me, and stepped back. His expression was no longer hungry looking. The bulge in his pants was gone.

I shouldn't have told him that again.

"Don't say that," he said. "Never say that again."

I swallowed the hurt. "Why not?" I stepped forward. "Jace, I do. I lo-"

"I told you not to say it!"

The knife was thrown at my head, and I dropped to a crouch, and stared at him. His eyes were wild-looking, angry.

"Jason-"

"Don't call me Jason!"

I gasped. "Why not? Why can't I love you?"

His face twisted as he looked at me. "Because I don't love you back," he spat out. "I never will, Clary. Who could love a face like that? Someone as weak as you? As stupid and gullible?"

I sniffled. And threw his papers at him. I didn't need them anymore. I already knew all I needed to know about this man. He was hateful. Childish. Unwilling to forget the past.

"Alright." I nodded. "Fine. I won't tell you again." I buttoned back up my jacket, embarassed that my breasts were still on a display.

Jace crossed his arms. "Next time you try to preach about abuse to me..." He sneered. "Try talking about something you're actually familiar with, little girl."

I stared at him. "I know more about it than you think," I said quietly, and turned, walking quickly away.

He didn't yell after me.

Didn't try to stop me.

Not that I expected him to.

...

...

...

...

...

I stared at the glowing blue and white fish swimming around in the bathtub.

"Do you guys think I made a mistake?" I sighed. "I shouldn't have said that to him. How incredibly mean of me."

They opened their mouths, but only bubbles came up.

I sighed, and drew my legs up to my chest. "I still lo-" I stopped. Did I? Did I still love him, even after breaking me repeatedly like that? Touching me like that?

I still do.

DARN IT.

I shouldn't still care about him.

I rested my head on my knees.

"Simon. Simon, I need you."

He didn't appear.

"Simon." My voice dropped to a whisper. "Please."

I felt a hand on my shoulder. "What's wrong?"

My eyes closed. "Not you."

Jonathon stepped into the tub, his eyes roaming my nakedness. "Mmm. Just how I like you."

"I asked for Simon. Not you."

"We don't always get what we want." Jonathon sighed, and looked at me. "Like your Simon. He's gone."

I stared at him. "No he isn't. He wouldn't leave me."

Jonathon shrugged. "You don't need him anymore."

I swallowed, scared. "What do you mean?" My hands were wrapped around my chest, my legs drawn tightly together, desperate to keep my body a blind eye to him.

"You've gotten along fine with him watching over you, guiding you, comforting you." Jonathon made a purring sound, similar to him when he'd been 'humping' me.

"But why would Simon leave?" I just couldn't understand it. He was everything. "I can't-I need him."

Jonathon looked bored. "Apparently your mind doesn't agree with you," he said.

I gasped. "You mean I got rid of him myself?" Why would I do that?

Jonathon nodded. "Yeah. Because you can survive without him."

No. No. NoNoNoNoNoNO!

"No, I can't," I murmured, my hands dropping from where they were protecting me from Jonathon's wandering eyes, and covered my face. "I do need Simon."

Jonathon sighed. "Whether you believe that or not, it's your problem." He looked at me. "You've grown out of him."

I shot out of the tub, grabbing a towel, though to my surprise, Jonathon didn't appear the least bit interested in looking at my exposed body.

"You mean he's really gone?" I simply couldn't wrap my head around the fact that he was really gone. "Like, forever?"

"Yep."

I shook my head, my chest beginning to tighten. Like I couldn't breathe, anymore. "No."

"Yes. Sorry. Time to grow up, unfortunately."

But who's going to protect me from the jerks, like the ones who lived near me?

I couldn't read until he taught me to. I couldn't even ride a freaking bike without Simon holding on to my shoulder.

Who's the only normal person I can always rely on if it isn't Simon?

I sat on the floor, my legs suddenly very shaky.

"Simon," I whispered. "Please tell me he's lying."

Jonathon stepped in front of me, his pants soaked. "I'm not lying," he said, his tone annoyed. "Jesus. Women. You're all always in denial whenever something you don't like happens. Well, he's gone. Get over it."

Simon, please.

I don't want to be alone.

...

...

...

...

...

...

Hands slid under my back and my legs, and I felt myself being lifted.

"Mm?"

"Falling asleep on the floor," Jace's voice sounded near my ear. "You dumbass. What part of everyone here hates you and wants you killed don't you understand?"

I passed out on the floor?

I felt my fingernails dig into the palm of my hand. Because Simon's gone.

"Why didn't you leave me then?" I opened my eyes, realizing with a small blush that I was only in a towel. A small towel. "You hate me. And don't pretend you haven't tried to kill me, either."

Jace was holding me close to his chest as he walked out of the bathroom. His chest was so warm. Hard. Stupid shirt.

"I wasn't planning on it." He rolled his eyes. "Why didn't you leave your clothes in the bathroom? Or are your also nudist."

"Nudist?"

He looked at me. "Enjoy being naked most of the time."

I gaped. "You can do that?"

He cracked a small smile. "Forget it."

I laid my head back down, and stiffened. I forgot I wasn't supposed to do that.

Jace didn't make any indication that he cared, so I relaxed.

"You have bruises."

I blinked. And looked at him. "Uh, yeah?" So what did he care? It was his fault some of those bruises were on me, anyway.

Jace's eyes were gazing straight ahead. "Old ones."

"Your point?"

A muscle in his jaw jumped. "They're too old for you to have gotten them from Martha. Or Aline. From when you've gotten here."

I nodded. I wasn't saying anything. Let him figure it out for himself.

"Did-were you-?" Jace looked confused.

I covered my mouth with my hand to hide my smile. He was too cute when he stuttered. Completey different from when he was an A-hole for the majority of the time.

"How did you get them?"

I sighed. "My daddy. Sometimes my mother would, but not usually."

Jace's thumbs were beginning to rub my hips in slow circles. I wondered if he realized he was even doing it. "Why not?"

I shrugged. I wondered that often myself. "She mostly ignored me."

He nodded, and let go of me with one hand to open the door-To somewhere that was not my room.

"Jace?"

He didn't look at me.

"Jace, where are you taking me?"

"My room."

He flicked on the light, and I gasped; there was a blackened corpse on his bed.

A girl.

She looked about my age. Maybe older. Her hair, which was reddish, was singed and the ends were burnt to a crisp. Her skin was red and black, scabbed from burns and ashes.

Her hands were tied to the head board. Her ankles were tied to the lower bed-posts.

I looked at Jace. "Who is she?"

He set me on my feet, and walked to his dresser. "She was you," he said, glancing at me over his shoulder.

"Me?" I looked at her. Red hair. "Why me?"

Jace pulled out a shirt. "Keep talking and I'll tie you to the bed with her." He tossed me the shirt. "Put this on."

I held it in clenched fists. "Jace...Why are you doing this if you hate me so much?"

"I don't know!" Jace snapped furiously, turning to glare at me. "Just shut the fuck up. Jesus."

I frowned at him. "You don't have to yell." I pulled the shirt over my head, and dropped my towel. The shirt was black, with no words or graphics. It came down to my thighs, barely covering where it needed to be covered. "I don't have anything...under this."

Jace raised an eyebrow. "I know. I saw."

I turned red. "But-" I had dropped the towel after I'd put on the shirt.

"You were laying with your legs opened, cutie." Jace rolled his eyes. "No surprise there."

I pulled at the shirt, wishing for my jacket. "I'm not a W-H-O-R-E," I informed him. "I've never had sex in my life, thankyouverymuch."

Jace walked over to his bed, pulling the body off, and dragging her to his closet?

"You stick your victims in your closet?"

Jace kicked her in there, chips of ash-which used to be skin from her leg-flying. "Where did you think I kept them? Under my bed?"

I opened my mouth, but didn't say anything. Because I didn't think much of where he hid the bodies.'

"If you killed me, where would you put my body?" Why did I ask that?

Jace grinned, dimples popping out. Looking very much like the smiling little boy with his mother in the picture. "Feed you to Isabelle. That's where most of these go." He jerked his head to his closet. "She prefers them raw, but what's the fun in that?"

I stared at him. "You aren't a very nice person."

Jace shrugged, and sat on the edge of his bed. "You're the one who's in love with me."

"Not anymore."

Jace raised an eyebrow. "No?"

My shoulders slumped. "Yes."

He smirked. "The girl was in love with me, too."

I looked up. "And you killed her anyway?" How cruel. How heartless of him.

Jace pulled off his shirt, and I quickly averted my eyes, though I don't know why. All I knew was that my stomach was beginning to clench again, and I felt the most curious urge to lick his flat, scarred stomach.

"Well, yeah. I didn't care about her, so I didn't see any reason to keep her alive." Jace looked at me. "Are you sleeping on the floor, or do you want to sleep where your doppelganger was tortured and torched?"

Was it so revolting that I still cared for this hateful creature?

"You mean you aren't going to sleep on the floor?" I'd seen movies where the guy always claimed the floor despite the girl's insistence he slept on the bed. I had always thought that was romantic.

Jace scoffed. "Hell, no." He raised his nose loftily. "I will not have rats crawling all over my body and in my hair. You're welcome to it, if you want."

I swallowed. "No, I-I'm good with the bed-Wait." I narrowed my eyes at him. "Why am I even in here? Why didn't you just take me to my room?"

Jace laid down on his back, folding his arms behind his head. "Verlac's kid."

"Sebastian?"

"Yeah." Jace looked at me. "He's taken a liking to you. Why, I have no idea-"

"Stop being a donkey and just tell me." I crossed my arms. I was sick of him hurting my feelings all the time.

Jace sighed. "I dunno. I just have a bad feeling about him."

"Izzy would protect me." I thought of how she'd defended me from Raphael and Jonathon. "Wouldn't she?"

Jace shook his head. "You rely on her too much. Izzy's not mentally stable enough to "take care" of you all the time. You do realize every time she does that she risks her life?"

I guess I hadn't thought of that.

"Were you crying?" Jace squinted at me, interrupting my thoughts.

I pressed a hand to my cheek, surprised, and shook my head. I had, but I wasn't about to tell him that. "No. Of course not."

I walked hesitantly across the room and around the bed, sitting as far on the edge as possible.

"If you sleep like that, you'll fall off the bed."

I scooted an inch and laid down, my legs squeezed together and my hands pulling the shirt down. How did he expect to share a bed with me when it was twin-sized? He was huge and despite the fact I'd let him...touch me, I was feeling a little nervous after hearing that he'd killed a girl that looked sort of like me, just because he didn't care about her.

Jace reached over and flicked off the light.

I stiffened, suddenly scared. Is he going to hurt me? Oh, my God, what if he decides to blow me up, or stab me as soon as I fall asleep...

I have been in this place way too long.

"Relax." Jace's voice, warm and soft for once, echoed through the room.

I closed my eyes, surprised that I felt safe, despite the fact I was laying next to a murderer.

His body heat warmed me, and I felt myself loosen, my legs no longer pressing tightly together, and my fingers released their tight grip on the hem of the shirt.

I fell asleep, forgetting about my fear and my aching for Simon.

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I woke up a few hours later, to the sound of Jace getting back in bed.

"Where did you go?" I whispered, straining my eyes through the dark, trying to see him.

"Shut up and go back to sleep." Jace laid back down and pulled up the comforter.

I swallowed, and closed my eyes.

He smelled like smoke and copper.

Fire and blood.

"Don't go again," I murmured. "Please."

Jace didn't reply. "Go back to sleep, Clary."

I closed my eyes, but didn't fall asleep.

"Sleep. I won't leave."

He was most likely lying, but it was sweet that he said it to make me feel better, anyway.

I fell back asleep.

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"I'm sorry."

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-Izzy's disorder is Clinical Lycanthropy. Thank you, Sapling.

-The banner is fuckin' gorgeous. Go check it out if you haven't already.

-Nobody got Alec's disorder right, even though you've used it as an insult at least once in your life.

-Delusional Disorder.

-But that sounds mouthy so I just called it delusional.

-Jonathon wasn't interested in Clary this chapter. I know why and you don't...;P

-Magnus and Jace's connection will be revealed later...It isn't that extreme.

-Simon is gone.

-Smut in next chapter.

-I'm running out of things to say. So...

-Review