Chapter 10 guys! I don't think I've ever gotten this far (this quick) with a story omg I'm so proud of myself. Enjoy!

Jasmine had been through Portals before. Once when she'd gone to Idris for her mother's funeral, and once when travelling to New York. But this was her first time not knowing where she would land. In New York, she'd landed in the warlock's loft. Safely. This portal, however, could teleport her halfway across the world and spit her out in an ocean somewhere.

Quickly, she thought of the Institute. She imagined it as best as she could, hoping that they'd end up there.

She felt a shoulder bang against her chest, a knee digging into her stomach, and a heavy weight on top of her. She groaned and rolled over, clutching her breasts.

"Oh my god," she choked out, sitting up. "Who the hell kneed me?"

"Well, you landed on me," Clary snapped. "Both of you did."

"Sorry, princess, I can't exactly control where I land," Jasmine said, and turned to look at Jace, who was scrambling to his feet. So he'd jumped through as well.

"And you didn't leave us much choice, did you?" he said to Clary. "Not after you decided to leap merrily through that Portal like you were jumping the F train. You're just lucky it didn't dump us out in the East River."

"You didn't have to come after me."

"Well, we did," said Jasmine, still wincing. "So would it kill you to show a little gratitude?" She sat up.

"We're back at the Institute," breathed Jace.

"Thank god," said Jasmine, her face screwed up.

Jace's eyebrows were furrowed when he looked down at her. "What's wrong?"

"My boobs hurt," she hissed, doubling over.

"Are they… really that sensitive?"

"Yes," said Clary and Jasmine at the same time. Jasmine got to her feet, dusted herself off, and watched Jace reach for his keys.

"So, what do we do now?" asked Clary as the three of them stepped inside.

"Report to Hodge, I guess," said Jasmine. "But I could really use some food first."

"Agreed," Jace said. Clary had no choice but to follow them to the kitchen. Jace opened the fridge and looked around for a while, but couldn't find anything. Jasmine took over.

"How about you go find Hodge, and I'll make us something to eat?"

Jace looked at her warily. "And you're sure you're a better cook than Isabelle?"

Jasmine laughed and nodded. "I sure hope so. Don't tell her I said that." She seized a couple of vegetables and put them on the counter. "Go on." She shooed him away with one hand, and with a raised eyebrow, he turned around and walked out. Jasmine turned to Clary. "You know how to peel a potato?"

"Of course," she said, almost indignantly. Jasmine got a knife out of a drawer, found a cutting board in another, and put them in front of the redhead.

"I need them in cubes, all right?" she said, not unkindly.

"Aren't you supposed to cut them after boiling them?"

Jasmine shrugged. "They cook faster when they're already cut up." Clary nodded and got to work. Jasmine grabbed a pot, filled it with water and put it on the stove.

"So, do you live here?" Clary asked, awkwardly attempting to make small talk.

"No," Jasmine said. "Not yet, anyway. I've only been here for four days. Isabelle and Alec are my cousins."

"Where are your parents?"

Jasmine bit the inside of her cheek. "Dead," she said, which wasn't a complete lie. Clary dropped her gaze to the potato in her hand.

"Oh."

"Don't worry about it." Jasmine offered her a tight smile. "Just—know that I really do want to help you find your mother."

"Thanks. And I'm sorry about hitting you yesterday," said Clary.

"It's okay," Jasmine said. "Jace was quick to Mark me, or my lips would have been swollen for a good two days."

Clary moved her hair out of her face. "About Jace," she started hesitantly, "Are you and him… a thing?"

Jasmine nearly choked on her own saliva. "Are we what now?"

Clary shook her head and looked back down. "Nothing. Nevermind."

Jasmine exhaled. "Jace and I aren't dating," she said. Not really. "Why do you ask? You think he's cute?"

Clary's cheeks turned pink, but she was quick to shake her head. "I was just wondering. You two look close. Did you know who he was before you came to New York?"

"No. I'd heard of his father, though," said Jasmine. "And I think he just feels bad for me, because I don't really have anyone to rely on. I think he feels like he has to take care of me or whatever."

"Or maybe he likes you," Clary said with a shy shrug of her shoulders.

"Unlikely." Jasmine fidgeted. "I don't think I'm his type."

Clary made an unhappy sound. "I think you're everyone's type," she said, surprising a smile out of Jasmine. Maybe the redhead wasn't so bad after all. She had a bad temper and an obnoxious attitude, but she was… well, a kid, really. She couldn't be much younger than Jasmine's sixteen years, but the fear that she might lose her mother had brought out the child in her. Jasmine felt for her. She, too, had lost a mother once.

Silently, she swore that she'd help Clary out in any way she could. They were Shadowhunters after all. They had the same blood of the Angel Raziel in them. They were sisters, in a way.

"What are we having?" asked Jace, loudly enough to startle Jasmine. She dropped the spoon she'd been holding and whirled around.

"A mini heart attack," she said. "Or maybe that's just me."

Jace grinned at her. "A little jumpy today, aren't we?"

Jasmine bent to pick up the spoon she'd dropped. "Well, we did just fight a ten foot tall Forsaken warrior," she said. "Or have you forgotten?"

"Things like that don't shake me anymore." There was an air of superiority in his voice, which Jasmine found oddly charming.

"Of course not, tough guy." She opened the refrigerator. "Potato salad."

Jace slouched against the counter. "What?"

"That's what we're having." She looked through the fridge's contents and frowned. "But there's no mayonnaise. Shit."

"Language, Jaz," Jace joked. "Kids might hear."

"I'm not a kid," Clary objected.

"Who said I was talking about you?"

Jasmine rolled her eyes and closed the fridge. "I'm going down to the store. We need mayonnaise to make the salad work. It's my grandma's recipe."

"You don't know any stores in New York. You'll get lost," Jace protested.

"I won't," Jasmine said. "I saw a grocery store on that street with the lights. The one with the alley."

"That's like every street in New York," Clary said.

"Fine. I know where I'm going, though. I'll be back in an hour or two. You guys can snack on peppers while I'm gone. There's plenty," said Jasmine, brushing past Jace. She had to get her wallet first.

"Do you want me to come with you?" Jace asked, following her down the hall.

"I'll be fine on my own," Jasmine told him. "Really. Oh, make sure you boil five eggs. I'm making potato salad for everyone." She turned to look at him, and accidentally ran into a thin figure. "Hodge," she gasped. "I'm sorry."

Jace snorted. "Such grace," he said. Jasmine glared at him.

"It's all right," the older man said with a kind smile. "I was just looking for you, actually. You and Clary. Jace told me you had an eventful afternoon—"

"Can this wait?" Jasmine asked in the politest way possible. "I'm really sorry, I just—well, there's no mayonnaise left in the kitchen and I'm… All right, nevermind. What were you saying?"

"I'll just talk to Clary, then," said Hodge. "I'm sure Jace would be glad to fill you in on what we've talked about. Excuse me." He calmly walked past the two.

"Well, what did you talk about?" asked Jasmine.

Jace stuck his hands in the pockets of his jeans. "We think Valentine might be alive," he said.

Jasmine was not surprised. "Might? I'm pretty sure he is alive," she said. "But there isn't much he can do on his own."

"That's the thing. He might not be on his own. If he recruits the old Circle members—"

"Whoa, that'll never happen." Jasmine cut him off. "You know what happened to the old Circle members. Your father, mine, Hodge and the Lightwoods are good examples. They could have been executed by the Clave, but they cooperated with them. Kept themselves alive. They're not going to turn their backs on the Clave."

"What about the members that fled?" Jace asked.

"I doubt they're brave enough to plot against the Clave," said Jasmine. "There are probably about a handful left."

"You sound awfully sure."

"I'm just thinking logically." She glanced at the elevator. "I should probably get going before the shops close. I'll be back before it gets dark. I hope."

Jace shrugged a single shoulder and turned on his heel, before walking away. Jasmine did the same.

o000o

The truth was, there were plenty of corner stores in New York. Jasmine, however, chose to travel a little bit further and swing by one of her newly favorite book stores. The moment she got there, a truck sloppily parked in front of the store, and Luke Garroway stepped out, looking like he'd been hit by a truck himself. There were bloody scratches on his arms and hands, and he was bruised from head to toe.

"Jasmine," he said, freezing in surprise.

Jasmine frowned and moved forward. "Luke, what the hell happened to you?" she asked, placing a hand on his upperarm as if to steady him. He looked pretty steady to her, though. It was mostly just precautionary. "Are you okay?"

"Just fine," said Luke, though he had a slight limp. "We're closed right now, though." He stuck his key in the lock of the shop's door.

"That's all right," Jasmine said, edging closer to him. "Do you live with anybody? I'd hate to leave you like this…"

"I'll be fine…" he trailed off, seeing the look on her face. "But you can come inside if you'd like. I wouldn't mind some company." He stepped aside and let her through. "I live behind the store." She followed him to the back, passed through a door and ended in his living room, which looked almost as torn up as Clary's apartment after the attack. "Sorry for the mess," said Luke.

Jasmine shook her head and smiled sideways. "You should see my room. You look like a neat freak compared to me." She was exaggerating of course, but there was no harm in being nice.

Luke chuckled and sat himself down on his couch. "Make yourself at home," he said.

"Thanks." She tossed her hair back, because it was starting to stick to her shoulders, and blew upwards to cool herself. "You need anything? Like an icepack or… a wash cloth, maybe?"

"Most of my injuries are healing pretty well. But thank you."

Jasmine nodded. "Right. Isabelle said you were a werewolf."

"Couldn't you tell?" Luke asked.

She shrugged. "I saw your Marks before I could sense your Downworlder blood," she said. Her gaze fell on the boxes in the room. "Are you moving?"

"I was just… looking through some stuff," Luke explained, grunting as he changed his position on the couch. He was still in pain, Jasmine thought. How could he not be? He looked terrible.

"Luke, what happened to you? Was it demons? There's been a whole lot of them lately," Jasmine said, sitting down next to him.

"It wasn't demons." A flicker of hesitation passed over his face. "I fought with the leader of the New York clan."

"Why?"

"I needed his pack," Luke said. "The only way to lead one is to fight the original leader to the death. But you probably already know that."

Jasmine bit the inside of your cheek. "If you're still alive, then that means the other guy's dead, right? You killed him. Or her."

"Him," he corrected. "After I heard about Valentine's plans—"

Jasmine cut him short. "Valentine's plans? What are his plans? And how do you know about them?"

"All of Downworld knows."

Jasmine started biting the nail of her thumb, and she saw the ghost of a smile pass over Luke's face. "What is it?" she asked.

"Your aunt used to do that."

"Plenty of people bite their nails."

"Yes, but not everybody shakes their leg while doing it," said Luke knowingly. Jasmine stopped it immediately.

"You knew her very well, didn't you?" she asked. "My aunt Darya, I mean."

Luke's eyes flashed. "You could say that."

Jasmine narrowed hers. "Were you two involved? Like as a couple."

"It's somewhat of a long tale," Luke said. "She was a very passionate young lady. Beautiful. Full of heart, too. She would have given her life for any one of her friends."

"Meaning you?" Jasmine asked quietly.

"Me, and a few others. It always astounded me how somebody as fiery as her could fall at somebody's feet so easily."

"Whose feet?"

"Valentine's," Luke said. Jasmine suppressed a shiver. "She was smart, but blindly trusting, which is a quality that runs in the Sianoor family. Valentine pulled her in with his kindness, let her cry on his shoulder—"

"Cry on his shoulder?" Jasmine asked.

Luke nodded. "Valentine and I were very close once, so he came to me one night and told me—told me about Darya being so immensely heartbroken over someone. I was surprised at that. Darya was the type that could have anybody's heart if she set her mind to it. She had admirers all over Alicante, yet she was too blind to see it. Her heart was set on one man only."

Jasmine's eyebrows curved in pity for her deceased aunt. "It was you, wasn't it?"

"Yes," Luke said quietly. "She had never told me this, and she was always so kind to everybody—not just me. I could have never guessed that she had feelings for me."

"If Darya was anything like I am now, then you were probably too blind to see it," said Jasmine. "I can hardly keep my thoughts and emotions a secret. I'm an open book."

"That must be a pain," Luke said light-heartedly. Jasmine chuckled and nodded.

"Sometimes."

"I probably was blind to her feelings. Valentine convinced me to take her to his wedding as a date, and I did. There was no harm in—"

"Wait, Valentine had a wife?" Jasmine frowned.

"Yes he did. Jocelyn was one of Darya's best friends."

A scream echoed in Jasmine's head. It was the same scream she'd heard that afternoon, and the night before. "Jocelyn… Clary's mom?"

Luke's eyes widened behind his glasses. "You've met Clary?"

"Yeah, she's at the Institute now," Jasmine said. "You're the Luke she called this morning? The one who told her to leave him alone?"

Luke seemed to flinch a bit. "It's for her own safety."

"Are you sure? Or is it for your safety?"

"I don't expect you to understand. You wouldn't, unless you knew the whole story." He pushed his glasses up. "I'd appreciate it if you didn't tell her you were here today."

Jasmine shrugged a shoulder. "Fine, I won't." She looked at the clock on the wall, and immediately started to her feet. "Crap, I was supposed to pick up a jar of mayonnaise and get back before dark."

"There's some in my refrigerator," Luke offered.

"You won't mind?" Jasmine asked.

Luke waved a hand. "The kitchen's over there," he said. Jasmine thanked him and hurried down the short hallway. The only things she could find in Luke's fridge were some carrots, raw meat and an unopened jar of mayonnaise.

"Something tells me you don't take great care of yourself," she said, walking back into the living room.

Luke laughed. "Find what you're looking for?"

Jasmine nodded. "Thanks again. I should get going, but it was nice talking to you."

"You too, Jasmine. Be careful, alright?" Luke slowly got to his feet and walked her to the front door of the book store. "Especially with Valentine around."

Jasmine smiled. "I will. The only person who frightens me now is my father. Here's hoping he doesn't find me until the Lightwoods get back from Idris."

Luke squinted. "You're losing me."

"Another time," she said. "If you don't mind having me around, that is."

"Not at all." The kindness in his smile made her want to reach out and hug him, the way Marielle made her want to hug her. She missed having an adult to rely on. "The Lightwood girl mentioned that you're new to this city. You should be fine at the Institute, but if you ever need anything—whether that'd be a cup of tea, or somebody to sit down with and talk to—you're welcome here. Though I doubt I'll be home much from now on. Leading a pack can be very time-consuming."

"I'll bet." Jasmine grinned, turned on her heel and walked out, the jar of mayonnaise in her hand.