"What do you mean, 'She might have been a past client of mine', Magnus?"

"Just what it sounds like. She asked me to do a job once. Or twice. Actually, it was kind of a routine thing."

"But… but that means that she must have known what you are! And you must have known what she is!"

"Well, of course. She's one of the Nephilim." He looked as though this was the most obvious thing in the world.

I felt like banging my head on the table, or slapping Magnus, or both. I said in a would-be-calm voice, "And it didn't occur to you to come forward with this information before you took my blood test? Or even when you first met me?"

"No. You didn't ask."

I took a deep breath. "Magnus, please get away from me before I throw this needle at you. I need some time to absorb this."

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(Jace's POV)

"…and you wouldn't believe how much skill, dexterity, and intelligence it took to get through that battle. Survival of the fittest, that's what I always say. And it worked for me, didn't it? Look at me! 76 years old, and still chugging along."

Grandmother Lightwood's stories had reduced us to little more than drunken stupors. There was no point in interrupting her, because she couldn't hear you, and I don't think she would have stopped in any case. Alec was in great danger of falling asleep, eyes glazed over, nodding off into his palm. I couldn't believe that we were having tea with our grandmother while a Greater Demon was on the loose. The Clave had declared a minor state of emergency, for Christ's sake!

"And would you just look at the clothes young girls wear nowadays! Disgraceful. Isabelle, for example, wearing those tiny little skirts. Well, it's just not proper."

I had started to tune her out when she barked, "Alexander! Posture!"

Alec bolted straight up, said something about werewolf cross-dressers, and promptly fell over backwards in his chair.

He struggled up with a dazed look on his face. "Wha…?"

"You were just telling us about your secret double life as a cross-dresser," I informed him. "Please, continue. It was just getting interesting."

"What are you talking about, Jace?"

I was about to reply when I was cut off by Grandmother Lightwood. "Strawberries, my dear?" she asked, brandishing the bowl of fruit under my nose.

"No thanks," I replied, wrinkling my nose. "I've gone off strawberries at the moment."

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(Clary's POV)

I had cornered Magnus in one corner of the living room, waving a golden candelabra threateningly. "Magnus, why can't you tell me what you did for my mom?"

"Customer confidentiality! I'm sorry, but I signed a contract!"

"I'm her daughter! I deserve to know."

"I'm sorry, but I can't tell you."

"Fine. At least tell me why she kept this world a secret from me. Or why she's no longer a Shadowhunter."

"I don't know. I make it a point never to dig too deeply into client's histories. Ask her yourself."

I raised the candelabra in a menacing way.

"Alright! Alright. I think it had something to do with an arranged marriage, but that's really the extent of my knowledge."

I considered for a minute, examining the candelabra as I did so. "Ok. I guess I believe you. You did save us from that rabid dumpling."

"That's right!" said Magnus.

I stuck out my hand for Magnus to shake. "No hard feelings?"

He glanced nervously at the candelabra. "Why don't you put down the candelabra, and then I'll shake your hand."

I set down the candelabra on a nearby table and shook Magnus's hand. "Right then," he said cheerfully. "Now that that's over, I think I'm going to pop out for a drink."

I watched him leave, then turned around and walked out of the living room. I couldn't believe it. I was a Shadowhunter! Or, at least, I had the potential to be a Shadowhunter.

I walked up to my room to have some quiet time and clear my mind a little bit. I picked my sketchbook off the bed and thought about what I would draw. Eventually, I decided to draw angels falling from the sky, ropes pulling them down by their wings or legs, and being imprisoned in cruel metal cages. I stared at the drawing. Where had that come from?

I was still looking at the drawing, thinking of possible reasons that this particular image had come to me, when Church the cat walked into my room.

"Aww, hello!" I cooed at him. "Aren't you cute?"

He mewed mournfully at me. He walked over to my bag, sniffing at it curiously, and then hopped into it.

"You're just adorable!" I baby-talked to him. I watched as he pawed through my stuff, smelling this, meowing at that. Eventually, he pulled out one piece of clothing in particular. It took me a second to recognize the pink, rather frilly article of dress.

It was the only pair of underwear I had that was remotely lacy/see-through, and therefore the only pair of underwear that had the potential to be embarrassing. My mother, of all people, had forced me to get it at a Victoria Secret sale, and I must have grabbed it by accident when I packed for the Institute. I never actually wore it; it was the kind of thing that inhabited the darkest corner of my underwear drawer, hopefully never to be discovered.

And yet, Church the cat was now holding it in his mouth, staring up at me with an angelic expression.

"What are you doing, pretty kitty?"

He pranced towards the door, the underwear still clamped in his mouth. "Wait, where are you going?"

He was out the door before I had time to get out of bed.

"Get back here, you perverted cat!" I shrieked, all baby talk forgotten.

I scrambled out of bed as fast as physically possible, bolting out of my room. It was like my worst nightmare. What if someone found that cat and the underwear and realized that the lacy, pink piece of lingerie actually belonged to me? I wouldn't be able to make eye contact for weeks.

I chased after the cat, following the bushy grey tail and cooing a continuous stream of, "Come here, you sweet cat. Come here, and give that to Clary. No, no, don't run away!"

Church slowed down and looked behind him. "That's it," I said. "Come here."

I took a step closer. And another one. And another one. I was so close now. I reached forward…

…and Church bolted, leaving me to fall on my face.

"Come back here, you stupid cat!" I yelled.

I sprinted after him, racing down hallways, ducking under furniture and dodging lights. Once I managed to seize Church, but he lashed out with his claws, leaving long red parallel scratch marks down my arm. He used this as another opportunity to escape.

I was feeling distinctly out of breath when we neared the sound of voices. Oh, no. I heard an elderly person's voice, and then Jace's voice. Oh, no no no no no NO.

Jace was the absolute last person I wanted to see right now. If he saw what Church was carrying…

Unfortunately, Church made a beeline for the voices. He slid through a crack in the door where the voices were coming from, with me a step behind him.

Jace, Alec, and who I guessed was Grandmother Lightwood all looked at me.

Quick! How could I distract them?

"Um… um… OMG! LOOK AT THAT GIANT FLYING HIPPOPOTAMUS!"

They turned around in confusion, and I pounced on Church. Yowling, he struggled in my arms, but this time I wasn't letting go. I ripped the unmentionable piece of clothing from his mouth and stuffed it into my pocket.

Jace turned around to look at me. "What giant flying hippopotamus?"

"Oh, you must have just missed it," I said, wiping sweat from my forehead.

He frowned. "Hey, wasn't Church carrying something in his mouth?"

"What? No, no, he wasn't. You must have imagined it," I giggled nervously.

"Funny."

"Well, it was so nice to meet you all!" I said, backing out. "Have a lovely day."

Just before I left, I heard Grandmother Lightwood say, "Isn't that Carrot Girl? Elderly Mr. Beigewater was telling me all about her. Ran into a Clave meeting or something…"

My face was in serious danger of catching fire, I was blushing so hard.

I needed something sweet and caffeinated or something with a lot of carbs. My day, so far, I had not been going very well. I proceeded down to the kitchen where I discovered a container of Ben and Jerry's in the freezer. Perfect.

After locating my comfort food, I decided that I needed to burn that unspeakable piece of clothing so that it would never haunt me again. For some unexplainable reason, I found a blowtorch under the sink. At this point I wasn't going to ask too many questions.

Placing the underwear in a giant metal bowl, I blowtorched it until all was left was a pile of smoking ashes. Then I collapsed into a chair and started devouring my ice cream.

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(Jace's POV)

After suffering through hours of conversation with Grandmother Lightwood and several cups of over-brewed tea, I went down to the kitchen to see if I could find Clary. She was halfway through a pint of Cherry Garcia, and was sitting next to a pile of faintly smoking bits of charcoal. She looked up. "Don't ask."

"Right then."

There was a pause as Clary continued to aggressively attack her ice cream. "So, not a very good day?" I asked.

"You could say that. Magnus tested me this morning, and then it turned out he knew what I was the whole time and he never told me! Jace, he knows my mom. He knew she was a Shadowhunter and he never told me about it!"

"So you're a Shadowhunter?" I asked hopefully.

"Yep," she said. "Although this still doesn't explain why she never told me about this world. Oh, and then after the testing, Church…" She blushed. "Well, it doesn't matter what Church did, but let's just say it added to my misery."

"Does it have something to do with those ashes over there?" I asked, pointing towards the bowl of ashes.

"Possibly," she said, consuming another monstrous bite of ice cream.

"Well, at least you're a Shadowhunter," I said.

She narrowed her eyes. "What's wrong with being a Downworlder?"

"Nothing! It's just that you can stay if you're a Shadowhunter."

"Oh, right," she said, her expression softening. Then she stood up abruptly, picking up the bowl of ashes. "I'm going to go bury these in the backyard. I'll be right back."

She left the kitchen, her flaming hair trailing behind her.

I waited for several minutes, amusing myself by counting the number of scorch marks on the ceiling. Surprisingly, we seemed to have quite a collection.

When she returned, the ashes were gone and there was dirt under her fingernails. "I buried them under the rose bush. Please, do me a favor, and never mention them again."

"Your wish is my command."

Clary asked, "How did tea with Grandmother Lightwood go?"

"Don't remind me. It wasn't pleasant."

"You had a bad morning, too, huh?" she said sympathetically.

"Mmm-hhmm. Although I doubt your morning involved a misunderstanding about sexy strawberries. Hodge still isn't talking to me."

"I don't know. Mine had some pretty bad moments…" she said.

"Do you want to stop talking about this? It's making me depressed."

"Sure. So, what are we doing the rest of the day?" she asked conversationally.

"Well, at the Clave meeting yesterday, they agreed that we should scour the grocery store back rooms for any clues, and then search the surrounding area for any connections or future leads. The company has, of course, deserted the grocery store now that they've been busted and have now found a new location. It's our job to find out just where that location is."

"Sounds fun," she said. "When—"

She was interrupted by the sound of the doorbell.

"I'll get it," I said. I walked out of the kitchen with Clary following me, to see whoever had rung the doorbell of the Institute. We entered the foyer only to discover that Isabelle had already answered the door.

"Simon!" Clary said, pushing past me. Simon was staring at Isabelle as though hypnotized by her, and his mouth was slightly open. It wasn't a very attractive face.

"Umm… hi," he said, tearing his gaze away from Isabelle. "I just, just stopped by to say h-hi."

"Excellent!" said Isabelle, clapping her hands together. "Do you want to come demon hunting with us?"

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A/N: …and so the chapter ends. In the next chapter, serious demon hunting will take place, and will—probably—be slightly less (what's the word?) light-hearted. Feedback, as always, is greatly appreciated. Love, HoneydukesFan.