The woman was pale, tiny, and motionless except for the rise and fall of her chest. She laid chained to the bed as Valentine's prisoner none-the-wiser that she was being stared at like a specimen on display. Sylvia had been pacing the room for hours now, staring at the woman that was once married to Valentine, the woman who bore Jonathan, the woman that looked so familiar that it aggravated the girl that she couldn't remember. Her fiery hair had struck something inside her mind as they had hauled her back to Renwick's, but it was the place that they had went to fetch, Jocelyn, that really made Sylvia struggle in remembering. The woman was suppose to help them find the cup, but now she was completely useless. Sylvia didn't see the point in keeping her around, "Kill her and move on." is what she suggested to Valentine.

Sylvia rubbed her stinging shoulder where Valentine's whip had hit, punishing her for her words. It appeared that he still had feelings for his runaway wife, which surprised the girl. He had no such attachment to his son or her, but to this lying and disowning spouse his attitude changed. It made Sylvia hate her supposed father more and more. He had taught her to abandon those weak feelings and only use the darker ones as fuel to fight and kill.

"What do you have that draws him to you?" Sylvia muttered under her breath as she kicked one of the bedposts at the end of the bed, glaring at the sleeping woman.

A long silence past like she was waiting for a reply, but her temper got to her. Rolling her eyes she stalked out of the room sputtering, "Must have been great sex."

Sylvia had barely stepped out of the room when a darkly familiar voice spoke catching her off guard. "Are you offering?" Jonathan stood at the end of the hall with one hand in the pocket of his jeans, a devilish smirk on his face, and a cocky tilt to his head that made Sylvia's temper rise even more.

Out of all the things she could have done; thrown her dagger at him, cursed him out, stormed off in the opposite direction ignoring him completely, but she didn't. Her actions startled her more than they did Jonathan. She had charged down the hall, a thousand angry names she wanted to call him danced at the front of her mind, but she didn't get the chance as she pressed their mouths together and wrapped her limbs around him like a snake. As Sylvia pulled herself back for air Jonathan chuckled but didn't push her away.

"Didn't think you were serious." He teased and Sylvia just scoffed at him. "Is your blood singing, Sylvia?" He asked peering into her face. His dark eyes staring at Sylvia's with all seriousness.

The girl stared back at him for a moment as she assessed his question. In deed her blood was singing, it tingled in her veins threatening to spill out and leave her for dead. She didn't understand why that was, but she had come to terms that it was Jonathan's fault. He was the reason she became weak around him, that their blood called to each other desperately and it seemed like she was the only one to lose control at these times while he stayed cool and collected.

"I swear if I get something because you slept with a dirty French slut I'll kill you." Was Sylvia's only response before she clashed their mouths back together.

Jonathan easily maneuvered the corridors of Renwick's until they reached Sylvia's room where they stayed together until the sun set and rose on the next day. When they finally fell apart too exhausted to continue the clock on her nightstand was chiming for her eight o'clock alarm. Jonathan turned it off by chucking it across the room where it collided with a wall breaking into jagged plastic bits leaving the two to sleep the afternoon away.


A banging sounded on Sylvia's door waking the sleeping duo. Jonathan growled in annoyance as he pulled a pillow over his head to block out the noise while Sylvia grumbled, "Come in." towards the door.

In stormed a very red face Valentine Morgenstern pushing the maid that had knocked on the door aside. Sylvia sat up in bed -keeping the blankets around her- startled that he came here himself. She kicked Jonathan to get his attention, but he didn't seem to get the point.

"Ready for the next round already?" He asked pulling the pillow aside. His eyes widened when he saw his father standing next to the bed, glaring down at them with equally black eyes.

"Get up, and get ready to leave. The cup is mine." Valentine said firmly as he puffed out his chest victoriously.

"You found it?" Sylvia questioned.

Valentine's eyes narrowed at her in disapproval. "It would happen that Hodge had had the right information, but the scout I sent couldn't do her job." His words lashed out at her as viciously as his whip.

"Excuse me?" Sylvia snapped back. "I did my job! There was no sign of the stupid cup anywhere."

Valentine, without warning, smacked the girl across the face with enough force to have knocked a normal mundane out cold, but it only left Sylvia with a ringing in her ears and a throbbing check. Jonathan next to her stared on in a confused daze, Sylvia had talked back to Valentine which was something he would have done. There was no respect in her voice like there use to be when they were younger, now it sounded like she questioned everything Valentine said, not that Jonathan didn't do the same thing, but Sylvia had been such a loyal daughter to the crazed Shadowhunter.

"Worthless girl!" Valentine yelled bringing the back of his hand across the other cheek, snapping her head in the other direction. From Sylvia's lips dripped several drops of blood that stained the bed sheets still wrapped around her and Jonathan. "You obey me, and you have failed." He raised his hand for another blow but was interrupted by the squeak from the maid standing just outside the room. He looked back at her with a burning gaze that could have set fire to the building if it wasn't completely made of stone.

"L-Lord Valentine, sir. You have been summoned..." The poor girl stuttered. "It's about the cup." She added when his eyes narrowed at her for interrupting for such a pathetic reason.

Valentine lowered his hand as he turned around completely. "I want you out of here by the time I return, I don't need Jace seeing you. Though you are weak and pathetic, you are still useful to me." He said as he stepped towards the door.

"Jace?" Sylvia scrunched up her face confused.

"Angel bastard." Jonathan spat, finally coming out of his daze.

Valentine said nothing as the door swung shut behind him, with the sound of the lock clicking in place something occurred to Sylvia. She turned to Jonathan who had already gotten out of bed redressing.

"Jace is that angel boy you hate so much?" She asked wiping her hand across her bottom lip to ride her face of the blood. Jonathan said nothing as he pulled on his jeans. "Well I can see why you hate him, he's an arrogant little ass. Just like you." She smirked.

At that Jonathan whirled around with one of his most intimidating hate-filled glares that took Sylvia back a step. Was his dislike for Jace really that strong?

"We are nothing alike. He's a bastard that should be dead. You should have killed him. He's a useless parasite." Jonathan said in a dark tone that matched his eyes. Black and evil; a real monster.

Sylvia cocked her head to the side as she watched him finish dressing. "So where should we go?" She asked.

That gave Jonathan pause. "We?" He inquired.

"We." She simply nodded.

Jonathan thought for a moment before he replied with, "He won't need us for a while."

"Wir sollten weglaufen." Without thinking Sylvia spoke in her native language.

"Only cowards run, Nightshade." Jonathan pointed out, understanding her perfectly.

"Their not cowards if they don't stay gone." She fought back.

"So you're saying that death is a cowards path." Jonathan queried.

"Those who give into it are too afraid to keep on living." Sylvia said staring down at the blood stains on the sheets.

There was a long pause as Jonathan shoved his feet into his boots, Sylvia sat on the bed unmoving.

"There's been a rise in demons in Peru, and I need to blow off some steam." Jonathan said trying to be casual.

Sylvia's sullen expression lifted into a smirk as she looked to Jonathan. "Oh my, are you trying to be kind Morgenstern?"

"I just want to kill."

"You want Ecstasy." She corrected as she flexed her hands in front of her. Feeling the power rush through her veins instead of blood, it was the best feeling Sylvia had ever experienced.


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