Chapter 10
The square was filled with the wounded, Silent Brother's tending to the wounded as some cried out and writhed in pain while others were alarmingly still.. I saw Clary on the ground, Magnus next to her and her parents standing frantically beside her. I saw Isabelle and Simon coming from a distance. With them was Raphael, head of thee New York vampire clan. "What is he doing here?" I wondered as they knelt next to Clary and Simon frantically dropped next to her. As I heard them murmuring among each other, I saw Magnus hold up something that was in the shape of a paw. I saw Simon take it and looked shock as Magnus broke out the news to him that someone named Jordan was dead. I remembered the young werewolf next to him in the Institute before we left. His calm look and his quite cute face. Now he was gone.
"I'm going to murder Sebastian," I said as I reached for my kinjal but I slumped next to the fountain. "You're injured. You need to rest," Gabriel said and slowly he lead me back to the house. Back at Amatis's house, I shucked off my gear and changed into a sweater and jeans. After telling Gabriel that I was fine and he needed rest too, he gave me a kiss on the cheek and left. As I lay on the couch and fell asleep, I awoke what seemed like a long time to see Simon and Clary about to go out. "We're just going to go get Simon some blood from Raphael," Clary said. "Let me come along. I need to clear my head a bit," I said and after lacing up my boots, we walked out.
The whole way, Simon and Clary kept to themselves, talking over what had happened to their friend Jordan while I hung around at the back, breathing in some fresh air. The area was beautiful, the houses lining along a canal. "That's the Lightwoods' house, there. The high Council members have houses on this street. The Consul, the Inquisitor, the Downworlder representatives. We just have to figure out which one is Raphael's—" Clary was saying. "There," Simon said, and indicated a narrow canal house with a black door. A star had been painted on the door in silver. "A star for the Night's Children. Because we don't see the light of the sun." Simon smiled at Clary. I waited outside while Simon knocked on the door and went inside with Clary. I sat outside, watching the sunlight sparkle off the water, the cool air brushing my face. It reminded me of Amsterdam, with its canals and old houses.
Finally, Simon and Clary emerged and after a short chat, Raphael slammed the door into their faces. Clary exhaled. "Wow. That went well." Simon didn't say anything, just turned and walked away, down the steps. He paused at the bottom to finish his bottle of blood, and then, to our surprise, tossed it. It flew partway down the street and hit a lamppost, shattering, leaving a smear of blood on the iron. "Simon?" Clary hurried down the steps. "Are you all right?" He made a vague gesture. "I don't know. Jordan, Maia, Raphael, it's all—it's too much. I don't know what I'm supposed to do." "You mean, about talking to the Inquisitor for him?" Clary moved to catch up with Simon as he began walking aimlessly down the street. The wind had come up, ruffling his brown hair. "About anything." He wobbled a little as he walked away from us. After living in a mundane city for so long, I had come to know when a person was drunk. And Simon was clearly drunk.
As we came to the Inquisitor's house, Simon started to talk to Clary a bit while I just stood there. A drunk vampire? That was a first. Suddenly, without warning, Simon crashed into the fence around the
Inquisitor's house with a loud rattling noise. "Isabelle!" he called, tipping his head back."Isabelle!""Holy—" Clary grabbed Simon by the sleeve. "Simon," she hissed. "You're a vampire, in the middle of Idris. Maybe you shouldn't be shouting for attention." Simon ignored this. "Isabelle!" he called again. "Let down your raven hair!" "Oh, my God," Clary muttered. "There was something in that blood Raphael gave you, wasn't there? I'm going to kill him." "Isabelle!" Simon shouted. One of the upper windows of the house swung open, and Isabelle leaned out. Her raven hair was unbound, tumbling around her face. She looked furious, though.
"Simon, shut up!" she hissed. "I won't!" Simon announced mutinously. "For you are my lady fair, and I shall win your favor." Isabelle dropped her head into her hands. "Is he drunk?" she called down to Clary. "I don't know." Clary said while I tried not to laugh. "I love you, Isabelle Lightwood!" Simon called, startling everyone. Lights were going on all through the house, and in neighboring houses as well. There was a noise from down the street, and a moment later Aline and Helen appeared; both looked frazzled, Helen in the middle of tying her curly blond hair back. "I love you, and I won't go away until you tell me you love me too!" "Tell him you love him," Helen called up. "He's scaring the whole street." She waved at us. "Good to see you." "You, too," Clary said. "I'm so sorry about what happened in Los Angeles, and if there's anything I can do to help—"
Just then a few pieces of fabric floated down below. As I looked on, I saw that they were what looked like old fashion clothing like a poets. "Take your clothes and go!" Isabelle shouted at Simon. Above her another window opened, and Alec leaned out. "What's going on?" His gaze landed on Clary and the others, his eyebrows drawing together in confusion. "What is this? Early caroling?" "I don't carol," said Simon. "I'm Jewish. I only know the dreidel song." "Is he all right?" Aline asked Clary, sounding worried. "Do vampires go crazy?" "He's not crazy," said Helen. "He's drunk. He must have consumed the blood of someone who'd been drinking alcohol. It can give vampires a sort of—contact high." "I hate Raphael," Clary muttered as Simon continued his ballad of confession to Isabelle, who looked both exasperated and furious.
The front door burst open. It was Robert Lightwood, and he did not look pleased. He stalked down the front walk of the house, kicked the gate open, and strode up to Simon. "What's going on here?" he demanded. His eyes flicked to Clary. "Why are you shouting outside my house?" As Clary tried to explain I felt like I want to turn into a shadow."He's not feeling well," Clary said, catching at Simon's wrist. "We're going." "No," Simon said. "No, I—I need to talk to him. To the Inquisitor." Robert reached into his jacket and drew out a crucifix. Clary stared as he held it up between himself and Simon. "I speak to the Night's Children Council representative, or to the head of the New York clan," he said. "Not to any vampire who comes to knock at my door, even if he is a friend of my children. Nor should you be in Alicante without permission—" Simon reached out and plucked the cross out of Robert's hand. "Wrong religion," he said.
"Simon!" Isabelle hurried out of the house, racing to place herself between Simon and her father. "What are you doing?" She glared at Clary, who grabbed Simon's wrist again. "We really need to go," Clary muttered. Robert's gaze went from Simon to Isabelle. His expression changed. "Is there something going on between you two? Is that what all the yelling was about?""He's a friend. He's friends with all of us," Isabelle said, crossing her arms over her chest."And I'll vouch for him, if that means he can stay in Alicante." She glared at Simon. "But he's going back to Clary's now. Aren't you, Simon?" "My head feels round," Simon said sadly. "So round." Robert lowered his arm. "What?""He drank some drugged blood," said
Clary. "It isn't his fault." After finally apologizing and the Inquisitor looked like he wouldn't hit Simon, we dragged Simon away, who looked like a lost kid.
Because Simon kept ranging off down various alleys, and insisted on trying to break into a closed candy shop, it was already dark by the time we reached Amatis's house. We trooped into the house, feeling exhausted. I yawned as we left Simon sleep peacefully on the couch. Clary told me that she was going to her room and went upstairs, the Morgenstern sword strapped onto her back. I thought to myself how much James would have liked it to have gone weapons shopping with us but I quickly brushed the thought aside. I was about to go to the kitchen and get some water when I heard a sound that sounded like a low chuckle. My hand flew to my weapons belt just as something slammed into me and pinned me against the wall. I tried to scream but a hand was pressed onto my mouth, depriving me of noise. "Hush, now. You wouldn't want to alert the Clave, don't you?" a familiar voice came from under the hood of the intruder and he lifted it up. Standing in front of me was James.
He wore scarlet gear like the Endarkened who had attacked the Institute when we had rushed to save his parents. He didn't really looked in good condition however. His clothes hung slightly loosely from his frame. I guess being an Endarkened didn't really pay for good food and rest. He looked like he haven't slept in days, dark shadows under his eyes. "What are you doing here?' I hissed at him as his hand came away. "You sound like you don't miss me," he smiled, the same smile he always used when he teased me. I was about to grab my kinjal when something cool and sharp pressed against my collarbone. His kinjal was pressed against my throat. "Now don't try anything rash. I just came by to say goodbye," he said, pressing the blade slightly. A few beads of blood dripped onto my shirt. Upstairs I heard the sound of voices talking and the closing shut. "What did you do to the guard outside?" I hissed at him.
"Oh. That guy? He was easy to get rid of," James said. He said as casually as he has just killed a fly. "He was human. Shadowhunter. One of us. Does that not matter to you anymore?" I said. He merely looked at me with a gaze that was as blank as any of the Endarkened. "I just follow my Master's orders," he said and he released me. I fell to my knees, gasping for breath even though I didn't really need it. I steadied myself with the wall and glared at him. "How could you do this? You're my parabatai! I love you like my own brother!" I screamed at him, my hand diving to my belt and swiping my kinjal. My hand came down to him, the kinjal slicing the air in an arch, aiming for his chest. He merely block the blow with his own and we stood there, gazing at each other.
He started to laugh. "Funny. You know I can predict your every move," he sneered and he slammed my hand aside and slammed the hilt into my head. I stumbled backwards, my hand grabbing my head and my vision started to become blur. As I tried to gain my balance, he kicked my legs from under and I slammed onto the floor, my head hitting the floor hard. He stood on top of me, looking down at me like I was a pest. Slowly, he laid his kinjal down and he knelt on top of me, his hips straddling my own. My ears were ringing as my sight became slightly better. He pinned my arms onto the ground, picking up my fallen kinjal and pressing it against my throat. "Its such a waste. You could be with me," he whispered into my ear. His mouth slowly traveled across my face before stopping at my mouth. "You filthy bastard," I spat at him and he merely grinned. "Language, Midwinter," he said and he forced his mouth down on mine.
A wave of dizziness rushed through me and I began to felt myself slipping. Memories conjured up at the back of my mind. James and me when we were children, making sandcastles on the beach, our parents chatting nearby. My sandcastle had been knocked down by the waves and I was crying while James made me another. Another memory of us surfaced. It was the day we had received our first Marks. I felt the sting of the stele being placed on my skin, the Voyance rune swirling from where the tip touched. Being in the training room with him, learning how to throw daggers. Us surfing at the beach in Melbourne, before we had left for New York. Our first kiss in my room, our bodies pressing against each other. Us kissing during my birthday at midnight, the flower blooming all around us. And the most recent memory of us : the day he was Turned. His face was in pain and contorted with horror as we screamed in agony, the bond breaking. His mouth shaping my name before he was gone. The hollowness in my chest.
"Screw you," I cursed and I kicked him in between the legs. He howled in agony, clutching the area as I got up and slammed him into the coffee table. I punched him across the face, the impact dazing him for a moment just as I collided with him, the impact breaking the coffee table. Man, Amatis wouldn't be too happy about it. As he struggled under my grip, I looked at his eyes. They were empty and dark, the life James had in his eyes gone. I felt my heart give way when I realized that I had lost my parabatai forever. I grabbed my kinjal and raised it with both hands, the tip poised at his heart. He looked at me with the painfully cool gray eyes he had. "Go ahead. Do it," he sneered, his mouth curved with a wicked grin.
A part of my mind was screaming, "What are you doing? This is your parabatai! How could you live with the fact you killed him?" Another voice was saying, "He is no longer the person you once knew. Ending him will end his pain and suffering." My hands shook as he smiled at me. "You didn't enjoy our first kiss? Remember that we were in your room all alone? I thought you enjoyed that," he grinned. "That was James. You're not James. YOU'RE NOT MY PARABATaI!" I screamed, my voice echoing throughout the house. Upstairs I heard three voices talking. Three? Another voice floated downstairs and I recognized it as Jace. He must have sneak up from the window. I envy Clary for still having her boyfriend. "Don't tell me you don't have the guts to do it. Who had always been the most bloodthirsty among the both of us?" he said, his voice laced with ice that seemed to penetrate my skin.
"You are a coward," he said and with speed I didn't even know he possessed, he sprang up and flipped me over, this time with me underneath. I cursed my hesitation. "I love you. You know that right?" he whispered in my ear, his breath tickling my ear. "James loved me. You're not him," I said as he chuckled, my body feeling his body vibrations. "Well, that's too bad. I am him," he said. I looked at him and glared at him in the eye. "I will never stop hating you for what had become of James. I would burn the world down to find a cure and bring him back. If there is no cure, I will not rest until I feel my blade pierce through your heart. I will find you. And end this," I hissed, spitting blood at him. Some of it splattered his gear. "Have it your way," he smiled and lifting his hands like he was expecting some miracle to happen, he disappeared.
"NO!" I screamed as I scrambled back up. As I tried to stand, I collapsed back to my knees and wept. "James," I whispered, picking up my kinjal from the floor. As I looked around, I saw a blade gleaming on the ground and realized it was his kinjal. I picked it up and cradled it like a child against my chest. Blood bloomed from where it had pierced my skin and I let the blood flow, dripping on the floor. "I will find you, James. I will find you," I whispered just as the doors burst open and Shadowhunters came in, searching for intruders but they were too late. Clary came downstairs with Jace, who looked like he had seen a ghost. "Are you okay? I heard noise coming from down here," Clary said as she embraced me. "Are you hurt?" Jace asked, his voice filled with concerned as my bloody hand had left a bloody hand print on Clary's shirt. "I'm fine. James came looking for me," I said, letting go of her.
"He did? So did Sebastian," Clary said with a shiver. The Shadowhunters that had just arrived were searching for any clue on how Sebastian had came in but I guess he had arrived long before we had entered and disposed off the guard. I stood up and remembered the way he had pinned me to the wall and kissed me. I felt like throwing up but I picked up James kinjal. I gripped the handle as I sliced my palm open, blood dripping on the ground. "I swore by the Angel I would stand with my parabatai, in life or death. Now I will hunt him down and bring him peace," I said as I shoved the kinjal into my belt. Jace nodded, knowing what he would do himself if this had happened to Alec. And all the time this had been going on, Simon was sleeping peacefully on the couch like nothing had ever happened.