A/N: Monday Blues *sigh*

Clary's POV

A week had passed and life went on, albeit a little strangely. Everyone was rushing around the Institute preparing for a new family that was to arrive at the end of the week, and the day had finally arrived. The family consisted of three young men called Jamie, Nathan and Damien. They often travelled from Institute to Institute, however, they had spread out around the world when they found reasons to stay. Nevertheless, they were all arriving this morning and they were all staying in the Institute.

"They've arrived!" Izzy screams from the bottom of the stairs just as I am walking down. "Hot! Clary, they're hot!"

"Who, is, Magnus? I don't think he bats for your team, Iz," Jace drawls, jogging down the stairs and stopping next to me. His hand brushes against mine; shocks spreading up my arm making my cheeks flush.

"Not Magnus, you idiot," Izzy hisses and she hits Jace on the arm, "The Dales."

Maryse enters the hall, walking towards the door and opening it with a welcoming smile. And when I see them, the only thing I can think of is how right Izzy is.

Who I can only assume is the oldest son walks in first. He has light brown hair that is spiked up at the front, and dark blue eyes that scan the room with interest and curiosity. You can see the tendons in arm flex as he puts down a heavy looking suitcase – the back of his navy shirt riding up a bit.

From next to me, Izzy nudges me gently with her elbow.

Next, a slimmer, less broad boy walks in – a tight black t-shirt clinging to his toned torso. He has slightly lighter hair than the first and it's longer too. Immediately his grey eyes land on me, and they narrow slightly as they run me up and down.

Next to me, Jace clenches his fists subtly.

The last son, the youngest I assume, shuffles in; his brown hair swooping into his silver eyes and his boyish smile instantly lightening up the room. He walks with his hands in his pockets and with graceful strides.

"Damien," He says, walking forward with his hand outstretched. I take it slowly, smiling.

"Clary," I reply, shaking his hand before pulling away. "It's nice to meet you."

Jace takes my hand, his fingers lacing with mine, and pulls me gently into his side.

"I'm Jamie," the first boy says softly. His voice is deep but he speaks like he's whispering into the wind. He has a calming aura and it fills the room so much so it's overbearing. Everyone murmurs their greetings, turning to the last boy who is standing with his back against the wall and his arms crossed over his chest.

"Nathan," he says, gruffly.

"Where have you come from?" Maryse asks them, running her hand tiredly through her dark hair. "Am I right in understanding that, Jamie, you were in Italy?"

Jamie nods. "Yes, I was. There was some downworlder trouble there, so I decided to stay and offer my services."

"And, Damien, you're only eighteen, correct?" Damien bobs his head up and down a little, grinning. "Where have you been staying?"

"Seattle. I've been training there for the last three years."

"And Nathan?" There's silence for a moment.

"I've been moving from Institute to Institute around the country," he replies stiffly. My eyes meet Izzy's and I almost laugh at the face she's making.

"Clary, why don't you show Damien to his room? Jace, Jamie's room is right next to yours. I'll show Nathan to his," Maryse says into the sudden silence.

"Sure," Jace says, kissing my cheek quickly – a brilliant blush instantly crawling up my neck – before turning and leading Jamie to his room.

"This way," I mutter, smiling at Damien. He nods quickly, gripping the handle of his suitcase and hauling it up the stairs after me.

"I've heard a lot about you," Damien says, beaming.

"Really?"

"Oh, yeah. I'm an old friend of Zander's. I lived in the Sydney Institute for four years. I started my training there."

"Do you have a parabatai?"

He shrugs his shoulders, looking at his feet. "She died. About a year ago."

"Oh." Instant regret floods through me and I internally curse myself. "I'm sorry."

"Don't worry about it." He stops mid-stride, giving me a calculating look. "Do you?"

"Yeah. Izzy. I mean, we haven't fought together in a long time. I was, erm, away for a while."

"Away?"

"Yeah," I look away, not wanting to go into too much detail with a stranger. "It's a long story."

"Well, maybe you'll tell me one day."

"Maybe."

When we enter the room, Damien instantly walks to the window, looking down at the street below, dropping his bags by the foot of the bed.

"I'm sorry there's no sea view," I say, watching him carefully. He opens the window and a grin spreads across his face.

"You can have too much of the sea." He turns back to me, chuckling. "Seattle and New York are surprisingly different."

"Why are you so enthusiastic about the view?"

"I like painting," He explains, picking up one of his bags and resting it on the bed. He snaps the catches, opening the lid and standing back to show me an impressive collection of paints. "It helps me think."

"Really?" I ask, frowning. "You don't strike me as someone who would paint."

He guffaws, snapping the lid shut and grinning. "You don't strike me as someone who kills demons."

"Touché."

"So, how long have you lived in New York?"

I'm about to say 'all my life', but I catch myself. "Four years. I, er, moved from London when I was twelve."

"London, huh? You grew up there?"

I nod, tracing one of the runes on my wrist.

"How long have been with Blondie?"

"Blondie? "

"You know," He puts on a high-pitched impression of a girl's voice, his eyes blinking furiously as he pouts slightly, "Tanned skin, blond hair, gold eyes. Total hottie. "

I raise my eyebrows, amused. "Jace?"

"Sure." He shrugs.

"Jace is..." I pause, staring down at my hands and shrugging, "...Is complicated."

"Hm," Damien says, lying down on the bed with his arms behind his head. "What's complicated about Blondie? He likes you, you don't like him? You like him, he doesn't like you?"

"No, no." I shake my head and bite my lip. And then it dawns on me, "It's...it's not your business. I've known you for, like, half an hour."

"A great half an hour, if I do say so myself."

I stare at him, astounded, my eyes wide and my mouth open slightly. "I've gotta... go."

"Wait," He says, reaching out and grabbing my arm. "I'm sorry, I've been told that I'm a bit overbearing sometimes – I come on a little strong. I'm sorry."

I pull my arm from his grasp and nod. "Are you hungry?"

"I'm starving." He grins, slipping out of his jacket and throwing it on his bed.

I lead the way down to the kitchen and enter to find Luke and Indie talking quietly with Maryse. Luke is leaning against one of the counters – dragging a hand through his hair and adjusting his glasses on his nose. Indie is sitting on one of the old chairs with her feet up on the table. She has her long mahogany hair rippling in waves over her shoulders which she is braiding absentmindedly.

"Indie?" Damien asks - disbelief etched in his voice. Indie turns around, rolling her eyes when she sees him.

"Damien," She says, stiffly. "How have you been?"

Damien moves to stand in front of her – his mouth agape. "Does he know your here?"

She shrugs, surveying her nails with puckered eyebrows. "If Nathan's still sulking about what happened, he's more of a baby then I thought he was."

"Sulking? You told him you were coming to get me or Rosalind, but what did you do? You ran away, leaving him to fight twenty demons on his own!"

"I did not run aw-"

"-You're such a coward, Indie," Damien says, his gray eyes stormy, "But you're too proud to admit it."

Silence.

"Well, this is uncomfortable," Jace says, entering the room and stopping by my side. He rests his hand on my lower back – a gesture that goes unnoticed by everyone in the room.

"Who's Rosalind?" I ask. Damien's eyes flicker to mine; softening slightly.

"Rosalind's our little sister. She was killed last year."

I frown. "Rosalind was your parabatai?"

His shoulders slump slightly as he nods. "Yeah."

"What are you doing here?" A voice grumbles from behind me. Nathan saunters into the room, his eyes focused on Indie who suddenly looks very uncomfortable.

"Nice to see you, Nathan."

"The feeling's not mutual," He says, grabbing a glass and filling it with water. "You should leave."

"No," She states, shaking her head.

Nathan glowers at her. "Indie, so help me-"

"Shut up!" Zander yells, entering the room. His eyes- slightly obscured by his brown hair- find mine and I instantly know something is not right. "It's Simon."

I freeze. Out of all the things he could have told me, telling me something has happened to Simon is the last thing I thought he would say. "W-What?"

"Raphael's here. He'll explain."

I followed him from the room, Jace close at my heels, my head spinning as Raphael came into view. "What's happened to Simon?"

"It seems that Simon isn't entirely human anymore," Raphael mumbles. My mouth falls open in shock.

"You mean, you sank your teeth into him?" Jace spits. Raphael shakes his head.

"No, not me. He was an enemy of mine – he must have seen me with Clary and Simon the other day."

"Where is he?"

"Clary –"Jace begins, placing his hand on my shoulder which I impatiently shrug off.

"Where is he?"

"That's the thing. We don't know."

"What do you mean, you don't know?"

"Jakob had the courtesy of dropping him off at Hotel Du Mort a couple of nights ago, where he went through the change. When he woke up and realised what he was, he ran off. I haven't seen him since."

"Well, surely he'll come back, won't he?" I try to convince myself.

Raphael shakes his head. "Trust me, Clarissa, a loose newborn vampire roaming free in New York is not good news. If he's not careful, he will end up being killed or caught by the Clave."

"The Clave?" I ask, looking up at Jace. "What's the Clave?"

"It's similar to our government," Jace explains. "They make laws and stick to them. They stick to them, Clary. If Simon attacks a human – or worse, changes them – he will be arrested."

"But he doesn't understand!" I cry. "He hasn't been told any of this. He doesn't know how much trouble he'll be in if he just follows what his instinct is telling him to do."

"Which is why we need to find him," Zander says, handing me my blade with a small nod. "And fast."

"I missed you, Clare." Izzy says from my right, her high heeled boots clicking against the pavement as we walk down the street – her black hair rippling as she moves.

"You too, Iz," I say, a small smile flickering across my face as I search the crowd.

"He won't be in the crowds. He'll be inside somewhere," Izzy says. "It's still too light for him to be out."

She grabs my arm tightly, steering be down an alley and emerging in a small street lined with crumbling buildings and flickering street lights. Two men sit in the shadows, watching us as we walk past with small, sunken eyes. Their small, flea-bitten terrier snaps at my ankles and I quicken my pace, pulling out my stele and handing it to Izzy.

"Can you draw a glamour for me?"

She rolls her eyes, taking the stele and tracing a glamour on my forearm expertly. "The people round here are just as crazy looking as you, Clary, I don't know why you're worried."

"Hey!"

Izzy chuckles, handing me back my stele with another roll of her eyes. We carry on walking down the sinister street – stepping over dodgy looking syringes and kicking pieces of debris out of our way.

"Simon's going to look different," Izzy says, looking down at me, "It's a common trait in vampires – beauty. He's not going to look the same."

I frown, trying to imagine Simon without his glasses or his slightly wonky teeth – or without his lanky build and clumsy manner. How am I meant to be looking for him, when I don't even know, for sure, what he looks like?

"Clary?"

My head snaps up to meet the familiar dark eyes of Kyle, standing across the road – his hands stuffed in the pockets of his navy blue hoodie.

"Kyle? How can you se -?"

He grins, strolling across the street and going to pull me into a hug, only to have Izzy step in between me and him – her dark eyes staring at me accusingly.

"A werewolf?" She says disbelievingly, her mouth agape. "You're friends with another werewolf?"

"Ah, so you finally found out, huh?" Kyle smirks from behind Izzy, and I blanch.

"Y-You knew?" He shrugs, an abashed smile flickering across his face. "I've known you for almost two years, Kyle, and you never failed to mention that, one, you're a werewolf, and, two, I'm a Shadowhunter. What, you couldn't fit into conversation somewhere? Oh, hey, it's nice to meet you, I'm Kyle, a werewolf, and you must be Clary, a Shadowhunter."

Kyle chuckles slightly but stops when I glare at him. "Look, Clary, I'm sorry. When I first moved to the city, I was alone. I joined the band because I was lonely. Simon raved about you, so I said yes to meeting you – completely unaware that you were a Shadowhunter."

"And?"

"And, when I finally met you, I knew you didn't know of our world. The way you held yourself, though, told me that you once did. So, I talked to your mom and she swore me into secrecy – begged me not to tell you. So I didn't."

I open and close my mouth a few times, narrowing my eyes at him. "Luke knew?"

"Luke's my alpha," Kyle says, shrugging. "And my name's not Kyle. Not exactly."

Gaping at him, I ask, "Then what is it?"

"Jordan. My last name's Kyle." He holds out his hand, grinning, "Jordan Kyle."

I push his hand away, shaking my head, "You are such an idiot, Jordan."

"I know," He chuckles. "So, what are you doing out here anyway?" His eyes wander to Izzy and he raises his eyebrow. "Who's this?"

"Izzy, Kyle. Kyle, Izzy," I say, pointing at them individually as I say their name. Kyle – Jordan - rolls his eyes when I use his last name and shakes Izzy's hand politely. "Izzy's my parabatai. And we're looking for Simon."

"Simon?" Kyle frowns, looking back to me. "Why're you looking for Simon?"

"He's missing," I reply and a worried frown puckers Kyle's features.

"Missing? What happened?"

"Oh, he's a vampire," Izzy states bluntly, almost bored.

"A vampire?"

"Yeah, and we don't know where he is, what he's doing or how he's feeling. We don't even know if he understands what's happening."

Kyle frowns, looking down at the cracked pavement and dragging a hand over his face. "I saw him three days ago...are you sure he's a vampire. This is Simon we're talking about."

I nod, "I'm sure. We need to find him but we have no idea where he is."

"Have you tried his house?"

Izzy gives him a sour look. "He's a vampire. A new vampire. He's going to be hungry. You think the first people he thought of killing was his family?"

Kyle growls, making me jump. "It's familiar to him. He's going to be scared. He needs someone he can trust."

"He's gone to my apartment."

"Ow, that was my foot, Mutt," Izzy spits from my left, apparently kicking Kyle in the shin when he yelps in pain.

"Izzy," I chastise her.

She huffs slightly, moving ahead – drawing her blade and whispering its name. Kyle slumps along beside me, cursing under his breath. We step over the fallen debris and I flick the light switch on next to the door.

"Simon?" I say into the silent apartment – looking in the kitchen quickly before moving on to the living room. "Simon, you here?"

"Clary?"

Simon walks out from my room, his hair dishevelled and his eyes heavy. His skin is pale and flawless other than the shadows under his eyes which tell me how hungry and tired he is. Where he always had been tall and lanky, he's now tall and filled out. He looks different, but he's still Simon. He's wearing one of his well-worn t-shirts and his jeans with the rip just below his right knee. And even though he probably doesn't need them, he still has his glasses resting on the end of his nose. He's still Simon; he's still my best friend.

"Simon," I breathe, taking the few steps I need to throw my arms around his neck and hug him. His arms wrap cautiously around my waist; his breathing shallow.

"Clary, you can't be with me," He whispers. "Y-you need to leave."

I pull back, shaking my head. "No."

"I'm dangerous, Clary." His head droops, his hair flopping in his glasses. "You don't want to be friends with me."

"Yes, I do," I say, pushing his hair away and nodding. "I know what you are. I can help you."

"You can't help me, Clary." Simon runs a hand through his hair. "No one can help me."

"That's not exactly true," Kyle says, leaning against the wall and looking Simon over with a curious look. "Have you eaten?"

Simon shakes his head. "I can't. Everything I try to eat just comes back up. It repulses me."

"You're not meant to be eating human food, that's why," Izzy says, filing her nails with her stele. "You need blood."

"Blood?" Simon stares at me. "Who's she?"

"Izzy. Simon, do you know what you are?"

"I hope I'm wrong – that this is all some crazy nightmare," He mumbles, hanging his head.

"It's not a nightmare, Simon. It's real." I rest my hand against his hand and he immediately tenses, shaking me off.

"I don't want to hurt you, Clary," He says, moving away from me quickly and shaking his head. "Please leave."

"No," I argued. "We can help you."

"How can you help me? I'm a monster, Clary. There's nothing you can do."

"Please, Simon. We can find you something to eat. You can-"

"Move in with me," Kyle intercedes, nodding. "Somehow, I don't think your mom would throw a party at your new change of species."

I nod, smiling up at him. "Please, Simon." Walking over to him, he follows me with tired, wary eyes. "I can help you."

"Why would you want to help me?" He scoffs and leans his head back against the wall, staring at the ceiling.

"Because you're my best friend. Nothing can change that, Si." I chuckle. "Especially not a change in your diet. I lived with you being vegetarian all these years – not ordering the good pizzas - I can live with this. And so can you."

"Why me?" He whispers.

I sigh, looking down at my hands in shame. "A vampire named Jakob saw you and me walking back from Luke's. After you left, I walked home with another vampire named Raphael. It so happens that Raphael and Jakob are enemies." I bite my lip. "I'm not sure, but Jakob bit you and fed you his blood before leaving you on the doorstep of Hotel Dumort, where Raphael lives. That's where you woke up."

"That still doesn't tell me why Jakob bit me," Simon replies, shaking his head.

"It's because you're my friend, Simon," I say. "Because I got caught up in this whole thing, Jakob decided to take it out on you because you were human. He could have come for me but I have protection. I never anticipated anyone to come for you. You didn't know anything, why would he? But he did, because of me. It's my fault."

Simon watches me with blank eyes.

"I'm sor-"

"Clary, we have a problem," Izzy breathes, eyes wide.

"What?"

"Were you aware of a Greater Demon living in the apartment downstairs?"

A/N: So any thoughts on the Dales? I might be leading you to believe one is 24.. but is it who you think? Also, this is a Clace fanfic so don't get too scared about Damien - I ship Jace and Clary too much :D Review. Favourite. Follow.