The sun was just coming up as Jace was awoken by a dull explosion, the lamp by his bedside tremoring slightly at the sound. Within seconds, Jace was on his feet and opening the door to investigate. To his surprise, as he poked his head out into the hall, Jace found Jonathan peeking out in nearly the exact same manner, like a mirror image; the other boy's white-blond hair a tousled mess.
"Oh good," Jonathan rasped with a tired morning tone, "You heard that, too. I was afraid it was the hangover." He scratched groggily at his hair, which didn't improve the bedhead.
Without a word, Jace hurried past Jonathan and bounded down the spiral staircase. Before he could reach the bottom, Jace stopped in his tracks, staring at the mess in front of him.
Where there used to be a wall, Jace found a ragged hole with stone dust clouding around it. On the other side, he saw a conglomeration of red-orangey angled rooftops over shadowy white buildings, with a few pointed steeples over stretching pushing through the skyline. Past that lay a sunrise, its orangey glow peeking over the horizon. The apartment must have moved again somehow, Jace realized, like Jonathan had told him about. Confused, Jace strode to the edge of the kitchen tile and looked down. They were maybe two stories up, the street still dark below, but in it Jace caught a glimpse at a bright shock of red hair run off and turn a corner, beyond Jace's view.
"Clary!" Jace yelled, recognizing her immediately.
Suddenly, Jace's adrenaline was fully pumping, his eyes frantically searching for a rope, a weapon, anything he could use. He was still wearing the same clothes from the night before, so he had no reason to change. A memory unexpectedly sparked in Jace's mind and he dashed across the kitchen the living area, where he found his weapons belt on the sofa lodged between two cushions. As he was looping the belt around him and running back toward the hole, Jonathan's feet came into view, descending down the staircase.
"Jace, what are you—" Jonathan's sentence cut off as he caught a first look at the gash in the apartment. "What the hell?"
But Jace didn't have time to discuss the fact that holes were not supposed to be able to be made in an apartment like this, or that Clary was gone and running—running from him, he might add—he only had time to remember how he'd jumped off the roof of the Institute to escape the Inquisitor and landed safely on his feet. With Jonathan still standing awestruck on the stairs, Jace took a leap.
Before both feet had even touched the ground, Jace was off running in the same direction as Clary, skidding around the corner and finding himself emerged in a maze of those white buildings, any alley one that Clary could have took.
Picking the biggest road, Jace ran down the cobblestone, accumulating more of a guess where he might be. As his turned out of the alley and onto a wider street, he saw a large building that read, "Národní knihovna České republiky". National Library of the Czech Republic, Jace thought, confirming his suspicions that they was in fact in Prague.
Reorienting himself with this new information, Jace walked parallel to the library, searching the street for signs of Clary. These were a few tourists out taking pictures and Jace hadn't bothered to glamour himself, but he didn't care. He kept walking, head on a swivel for those red locks and small frame. Suddenly, someone's hands were on his shoulders from behind him, and Jace instinctively grabbed one of the attacker's hands in preparation to throw them over his back, but he never got the chance. His movement was hindered by their swift counter: Jace's body was twisted until his hand was being pinned in between his shoulder blades and he was looking right into the eyes of Jonathan.
Jace snarled, and Jonathan let go of Jace's wrist. A voice in Jace's head was whining that Jonathan was even faster than him and there was nothing Jace could do about it, but he didn't have time to dwell on that. Jonathan had changed into clean clothes—white shirt, black pants, and a maroon shirt that made his face and hair all the more pale—while his weapons were still attached at his belt.
"I put a glamour on the apartment," Jonathan told him. "And a small protection rune, but it was weak. Any demon with half a brain could get through. I mean, I obviously didn't have much time." His tone was full of annoyance toward Jace; like it was his fault his girlfriend blew a hole in Jonathan's wall.
But Jace shook off Jonathan's words. He wanted to focus on finding Clary. His eyes moved around the small court, the shadows of buildings began to shift as the sun was coming up. His gaze fell back on the library with ivy stretching across a good portion of the stone, only windows peeking through the greenery. He thought back to Clary's first reaction at seeing the Institute's collection of books. How her face lit up at her first glance of the circular library, its walls lined with books, how he noticed the sparkle in her eyes before they'd even truly acquainted themselves. If there was a place Clary would go to escape, this would be it.
The fourth room Jace emerged into was similar to the others. Books lined each wall in sections with columns of spiraling mahogany capped with gold fixtures and detailed carving above and below. A numerous amount of time-worn globes fixed in delicate stands lined the middle of the room, atop a neutral-colored yet ancient-looking tiled floor. A balcony wrapped around the edge of the room and held more bookshelves which all lead Jace's eyes up to a curved ceiling, painted intricately with religious figures. Jace paced the room slowly, silently, his eyes surveying it carefully until he stopped.
He remembered going to the Institute's library with Jonathan, how just before they'd vanished Jace had seen a bit of something on the second floor he thought was Clary. Now, he was sure of it.
His boots tread lightly up the spiral staircase to the balcony floor and toward the corner of the room. A small stack of books lay next to a hunch figure, her knees hugged by her arms, her head leaning on the bookshelf. She looked small and frail, as if all her energy had been sucked out of her. Jace froze, unsure whether to speak or sit down or touch her. But then she spoke, relieving Jace the decision.
"I realized," Clary spoke gravely without looking up at him. "Nearly as soon as I turned out of the alley that I had nowhere to go. The stele I used to get out of the apartment must have fallen off me, so I couldn't make a Portal or anything. I had no plan." Her voice sounded so raw when speaking the last sentence, it made Jace's knees nearly quiver. Nearly. Years of training to remain balanced kept him from it, but he still felt that uneasy feeling in his legs. Nudging the books aside gently, Jace sunk down next to Clary and sighed.
Jace spoke slowly. "Remember the second time we met? At that coffee shop? I was so curious about you…" he trailed off, stealing a glance at Clary, who was staring ahead, surely remembering the same day. "And then you got a call from your mother while she was being attacked. She told you not to come home, I tried to stop you—you scratched me across the face. You had no plan. Just your instincts."
Clary was silent; the different books stacked on the shelves cast a delicate shadow on the side of her face, making her eyes look somehow greener in the light.
"Personally, I always trust my instincts," Jace said, his tone light and joking. "But that's simply because I'm me, in my glorious perfection." He was hoping to get Clary to grin, or even crack a smile, with no such luck. She remained serious and still, so he dropped his voice lower. "But, Clary, this time I was wrong. When I first saw Sebastian wake up on the rook, after we thought he was dead, I was ready to kill him again. But then I looked in his eyes—and they were the same color as yours, Clary. The exact same green, instead of what we saw in Idris. I want to believe he's that terrible person who killed Max, but this is a different person." Jace looked at Clary, who seemed to be processing everything slowly, staring at Jace like he was a stranger. "This is your brother."
Clary's legs extended from where they were up by her chest, like she was stretching out, relaxing, and she twisted slightly, leaning into him. Jace stood still, not wanting to move too quickly or startle her. And then her hands were on his face, her smooth artist's fingers stroking his cheeks, tracing his jawline, running across his lips, like she was trying to memorize every pore of his skin. "Jace," she finally breathed, and that's when his resolve crumbled into dust.
Desperately, Jace reached for her, his arms lifting her into his lap and tangling into her hair as his mouth collided with hers as he pressed her into him harder, feeling her slight frame against his chest, her pulse quickening and he could see she was no longer holding back. Clary's eyes fluttered shut as he buried himself in the crook of her neck, his lips like icicles against her warm skin, gnawing hungrily at her.
"Jace," she said again as she pulled away gently, but her voice revealed her pleasure. She guided his head up to look at her by planting one peck on his temple, then his eyelid, then his nose, down toward his mouth where her lips barely brushed his teasingly. "When I saw you in the library, and then when you came for me, in my bedroom, I thought you were…possessed. Like when you brought me to the roof where Lilith was. I couldn't think of any other reason you'd be cooperating with Sebastian."
He winced slightly, guilty, before taking her hands in his, his thumbs circling along her wrists absently. "I know it must have looked bad. I tried to explain it to you, but then you must have seen that as manipulation, too. Now, at least I know if anything comes to you pretending to be me, like an Eidolon demon, you'll be ready."
Clary laughed, her giggles like a shower of happiness that melted into Jace. "By the Angel, I love your laugh," he said. "You know, I've really missed you."
"You mean you haven't been going on romantic dates with Sebastian while you've been away from me?"
"I tried," Jace joked, "but no matter how liquored up you get him, he just won't put out."
"Well," came a voice from beside both of them, and Jace looked up to see Jonathan's smirking at them. "Maybe I was hoping for a more gentlemanly approach. Your boyfriend's not very good at wooing, Clary." He spoke lightly to his sister, and Jace couldn't help but notice she tensed up a bit. "He seems to have a complex where he believes his good looks will cause everyone in the Tristate area to simply flock to him."
"We're in Europe now, Jon. These ladies have never laid on eyes on something so Americanly spectacular." Jace countered.
Clary snorted. "These ladies will go the same way as the apartment if they try."
Now it was Jonathan's turn to laugh. He wagged a finger toward Clary, grinning. "I can't say loyalty runs in the family, but it suits you, little sister."
Clary scowled faintly, but then gave him a small smile in return. "Back to the apartment, then?" She asked Jace, sounding almost sad.
Jace helped her up as he stood. "I thought maybe we could go sightseeing. Jonathan?"
"Touching that you wish for me to accompany you on your date, but I should get back to the apartment to strength the protection runes before some colony of Vermithrall demons find it."
"Nonsense." Jace spoke airily. "I bet you've never even seen the Staroměstský orloj, have you?"
After a beat, Jonathan shrugged and then gestured toward the spiral staircase. "Lead the way, then," he conceded.
Taking Clary's hand, Jace marched past Jonathan, Clary at his heels.
