A/N: I'm updating super quickly because I'm feeling inspired. I hope this chapter is good. I'm getting some really great reviews! Please keep letting me know what you think about this chapter! I'm liking where the story is going and how it's turning out, but it's in the place where I could very easily screw it up. Hopefully I don't! Anyway, ignore me. I hope you enjoy this and please let me know what you think.

Disclaimer: I do not own anything that actually makes money, so obviously that includes The Mortal Instruments and the like.

Chapter 10

Clary felt uneasily about Jace's leaving at first and the feeling, frankly, didn't sit right with her.

She considered herself incredibly independent and the sensation of missing someone was one with which she was intensely unfamiliar.

But she did miss him.

He'd lingered for a bit after Maryse had issued her order and Clary had adorned her apron. She'd set right out to waiting at tables, grateful that she had indeed worked at a coffee shop while in high school. She found it easy to slip back into the role of waitress and adapt to the differences between this café and Taki, which is the coffee shop she'd worked at just a few short months ago.

So much was different between now and then, the most notable thing being the gold eyes that met hers periodically.

He sat at the counter for a few moments and she could feel the weight of his observing eyes drape over her like a blanket of security. She found her gaze drifting over to him without even thinking about it and every time they did she found him watching her with an appraising look on his face. When he noticed her looking at him, he'd shoot her a small smile, to which she couldn't help but smile back lightly.

The experience was odd. Her she was, doing something she'd done a million times before, wait tables, and yet everything was different. She felt safer than she ever had and she had someone at which to smile.

She forcefully averted her gaze in an attempt to remind herself that she did not have Jace. He was temporarily around, but he was in no way hers.

After maybe half an hour of taking orders and clearing tables only receiving a few curious questions from the townspeople enjoying a late breakfast, Clary felt Jace's hand land lightly on her upper arm, touching her with a gentleness that never failed to surprise her. Turning to face him, she noticed his face reflected discomfort, as if the words that would follow were going to cause him some pain.

"I have to get to work, unfortunately," he hesitated, his face registering surprising at his statement, "But you look like you've got a handle on this. If you need me, have Maryse call me."

Clary nodded, trying to stave off the rush of anxiety that was threatening to overwhelm her, and replied, "Oh ok. When will you be back?"

She hated how weak the question made her sound and heard her father's voice in the back of her head warning her that that weakness would be what he'd use to betray her. Blinking against the sentiment, Clary reminded herself that it was natural to wonder when he'd return considering their situation.

Jace frowned resolutely and answered, "Probably not until 5 or 6. Maybe I'll finish up early and loiter here to make sure you're – everything's ok, but I'm running behind as is."

Clary nodded and bit her lip to keep herself from asking him to stay. It'd be unreasonable and she'd be without him always soon enough, though she was loathe to acknowledge it, so she needed to reestablish the distance between them anyway.

"Have fun I guess," Clary concluded, trying to sound chipper when in fact she was hyperventilating internally. With the idea of Jace not being there, everything she was running from came back in an instant. While she'd felt safe in his presence, she was reminded of just how much danger in which she was really.

Jace hesitated again, something she noticed he did a lot. Clearly he was someone who liked to think through every move before making one. Hesitantly, he lifted his hand and moved it to brush a stray piece of hair from her face before retracting it. He'd been careful to avoid skin contact in the motion, for which she was grateful, but she felt a little breathless nonetheless. She hoped this effect he had on her was temporary.

"You're safe here," he stated without warning or precedent. "So try to relax. I'll be back soon. Just relax and don't," he paused, exhaling deeply, "Don't leave or do anything stupid, ok?"

Clary felt herself nodding before she even quite comprehended what he'd said to her. Some of her anxiety lessened and she felt her confidence grow. In that moment, she felt further away from her past than she'd ever been.

Jace smiled tightly at her once more before he turned from her and left the diner. Clary tracked his movements with her eyes, becoming slightly flustered when he paused to offer her one last glance, until he disappeared from view. When he was gone, Clary felt herself release a breath. She never realized just how tense moments like that were until they were over.

After allowing herself a moment to regain her bearings, Clary turned back to her job, not at all surprised to find that she'd gained the attention of those few patrons that remained at the café and Maryse.

Maryse simply cocked an eyebrow at her curiously before returning to the countertop she'd been wiping. With a slightly red face, Clary moved to check on the last few customers who lingered during the awkward period between brunch and lunch.

She made short work of the rounds, which was unsurprising considering how few people remained. In the corner of the charming café sat an elderly couple sipping coffee leisurely who'd wanted their bill. At the counter there were two girls who looked to be around Jace's age who eyed her with pure malice when she'd asked if they wanted anything before replying shortly, "No."

With no more work involving customers that needed to be done after providing the bill for the couple, Clary approached Maryse cautiously. She wasn't sure what to make of the older woman. The grey streaks in her dark hair made her look older and more tired than her years. It was clear to Clary that Jace's mother didn't trust her and Clary couldn't blame her. She knew she was dangerous. Maryse only needed to suspect.

For some reason, Clary felt that Maryse wasn't scared about that. Frankly, everyone seemed to be eyeing her warily and with surprise, but clearly not all of them suspected she was a threat to Jace. They couldn't have known that it would've been necessary. So they were wary of her for another reason and she wasn't sure why. Surely, this man spent time with a lot of women, so she should, hypothetically, blend in as one of the many.

When she reached Maryse, she asked, "Is there anything else I can do while we wait for the next big shift?"

Maryse shrugged nonchalantly, her gaze level and probing on Clary while she answered, "Not really. You can sit on down and tell me about yourself because I'm finding you to be, perhaps, too good to be true."

Clary tilted her head at Maryse in confusion. This woman was impossible to read, a quality her son had clearly inherited. Obligingly, she slid into a stool across from Maryse and asked, "What do you mean?"

Maryse paused and, sighing lately, stated, "My son, the town recluse who ignores women with skill, brings in this small, sweet little person and pays more attention to her than he has to any woman in years. She's supposed to help me out and she's great at it of course. And, as a mother, my first reaction is that this is great. He's getting out of his slump. So, what's wrong with you? When is the other shoe going to drop?"

Clary wanted to get defensive and argue that everything was exactly as it seemed with her, but that had never been true with her, so she wasn't sure what she thought had changed in that aspect. She certainly felt more genuine now that she was living a lie than when she was going through the motions in her actual life.

No, Clary argued forcefully, this was her life now.

Nothing about what Maryse said was wrong. Jace very clearly had his focus on her, although Clary doubted it was for the reasons Maryse suspected. Even if it was for those reasons, Clary would be gone before anything came of it.

It surprised Clary to hear that Jace ignored women, although she wasn't sure why. Everything about his lifestyle indicated that he didn't get out much, but Clary found it difficult to believe that someone that, well, beautiful didn't get around. She certainly had no idea whether or not she was getting him out of any sort of slump, but finding the flaw for which Maryse was asking was simple, as Clary constantly felt the effects of it.

"I'm leaving in a week. That's what's wrong with me."

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The Morgenstern drummed his fingers on the table slowly, silently enjoying the effect it had on the man before him.

He knew he had a reputation for casual cruelty and he was unbelievably pleased with that status. In fact, he actively behaved in accordance with it. He was aware of how much more terrifying he was when he remained completely calm. It unnerved people and gave them the impression that he felt nothing, resulting in heightened fear when he demonstrated that he did indeed feel anger.

The man before him was remarkably formidable considering he worked in a bookstore and he was almost impressed with him.

Luckily, the Morgenstern had no issue torturing those he respected.

Despite his resilience, the man before him was exhibiting some signs of fear that he'd learned to look for at a young age. For example, his jaw periodically clenched and unclenched with the sound of his fingers hitting the table.

He'd been brought into the room maybe 10 minutes ago roughly by two of his men to a silent leader of the organization. And silent he'd remained. Admittedly, he'd hoped that his guest would crack first under the pressure, but, as it became clear that the man was determined to hold out for as long as necessary, the Morgenstern began calmly, "Where is she?"

He received a grin in response and slackening of the tension in his guest's shoulders, which shocked him undoubtedly, but he refused to reveal that to the man sitting before him. Clearly, this was going to be more difficult than scaring the average thug.

"You really think I'd tell you and betray her?"

He offered him an amused smile and met the man's eye easily, slightly perturbed by the lack of effect he was having on this stranger.

"You know what you remind me of, Luke?" he began, standing from his seat and moving to lean against the front of his desk. "A dog. No, a mutt."

Luke rolled his eyes at him and tried, "I wasn't going to tell you before but now that you've tortured me with insults I'm dying to tell you."

His smile widened and he continued, "Think about it for a minute. Unfailingly loyal. Always nipping at the heels of your master or really anyone who can give you a good belly rub. First Jocelyn and now Clary. It's really no wonder they both were so fond of you. Girls love dogs."

Luke's smile didn't falter but his eyes lost some of their cockiness as they became filled with anger.

"And what would you know about love?"

This time it was his turn to experience a rush of anger.

"I love Clary and she loves me," he protested, pausing to adjust his expression into one that was calculated, "And we both know Jocelyn never loved you."

The words hit their mark and his expression fell, being replaced entirely by anger. The two studied each other, looking for any signs of weakness in the other. The Morgenstern had rarely felt such a strong battle of wills and his respect for the man before him grew. He could see why Clary trusted him.

Without easing any of the tension from his body, Luke offered him an easy smile and stated, "You're right. I'm a dog. A mutt even. Unluckily for you, I'm more of a guard dog. So I won't roll over for belly rub. I'll die to protect Clary. You've killed Jocelyn, so all I have left is Clary. I've got nothing you can take from me."

The Morgenstern cocked an eyebrow at him, sensing that the mutt wasn't quite finished.

"You seem confused," Luke continued, affirming his suspicions, "Well, let me sum it up for you. I'll die before I let you anywhere near Clary."

He couldn't say he was surprised by the response but he was irritated regardless. He forced himself to smile coolly and retort, "I'm not going to kill you, Mutt, as much as I'd like to. Clary needs to know that she's alone in this world and I think the best way to tell her that would be to kill you in front of her. Or maybe I'll use you to keep her with me. We'll see. We've got time."

Luke's jaw clenched and he stood from his chair so quickly that the chair clattered to the ground behind him. At the sound, the two men who'd been standing outside rushed inside and grabbed Luke's arms to hold him back, although he hadn't rushed forward to attack the Morgenstern.

"We're going to have to keep you here, obviously, but don't think of it like that. Think of it as we're all waiting for Clary to come home together," the Morgenstern concluded, smiling evilly. The two men holding Luke began to drag him back.

He didn't struggle, but as they reached the door, he offered one last thing.

"You know she'd rather die than stay with you, right?"

And then he was gone somewhere to be locked in a dark room for who knows how long, being kept alive but just barely. The Morgenstern knew that Luke would be beaten and starved and tortured endlessly until finally Clary was returned to him.

So why did he feel like he'd lost today?