You should all thank ThunderBoltsAndLightning and KissTheRain14 for keeping me inspired to continue this story, because without them, I wouldn't have considered updating! So, thank them and while you're at it, read their stories :) They are story-telling BEASTS. I hope you all like this and show your love by reviewing so I know I'm not just writing for my own sanity's sake.

Songs:

Better Than Drugs by Skillet (Clary is better than drugs for Jace…too bad a much stronger drug got to her faster.)

Perfect Situation by Weezer (I did some song investigating last night and figured this was Simon's anthem. If you're a Simon fan or just a fan of Weezer, you HAVE to listen to this song if you haven't already!)

Beautiful Monster by Ne-Yo (Jace learning about his "past")

Lava.

That's what Clary felt was coursing through her veins–a thick, goo-like substance that burned every inch of her as her body desperately tried to rid itself of poison. Clary was vaguely aware of the blood-curdling screams as her fingers scrubbed the floor for anything to use to take the poison out of her veins. But when she came up empty-handed, she settled on using her fingers to claw at her own skin, to peel it off and let the poison leak out of her system.

"Cuff her," a voice sneered–Clary couldn't focus on anything except getting the poison out, so she didn't bother to identify the voice. "It was a mistake to un-cuff her. Don't make that mistake again."

"Yes sir," another voice, this one higher, promised. Clary's eyes were unable to open on their own accord since it required muscle movement and she didn't want to waste an ounce of energy if it wasn't being used to rid her body of poison.

Clary was about to break the skin on her neck with her ferocious scratching when she felt arms wrap around each of her wrists and pin them on her back. She roared in protest–a guttural sound–and fought with a ferocity that took her attacker off guard for a split second. Lashing out with her legs, she felt her foot connect with something soft and smiled devilishly when the restraints loosened slightly–enough for her to escape.

"F-Father!" the second voice yelled.

But she barely registered the call as she dropped to her hands and knees, searching for something to use to cut herself with. The poison, get it out, GET IT OUT. When her fingers found a blade, Clary picked it up by the hilt and slid it across her left forearm, opening up a frighteningly jagged gash. The gash, however, was of no concern to her: not when the feeling of the poison blood oozing out of her system was almost euphoric.

Her body sang the more the blood flowed out, taking her higher the more her body expelled it. She felt her eyelids flutter slightly and looking down once more at her arm, Clary's eyes widened when they saw just how much black blood was on the floor around her. With that image forever burned into her mind, she felt her eyelids close like heavy curtains and barely registered the burning sensation as she fell inside the blackness.

"CLARY!" Jace screamed, his throat raw with the emotions he couldn't restrain. Seeing her collapse the first time after receiving the silver poison–demon blood, he recalled at the very last second–was the final blow below the belt. He already lost his father, the man who–in his own way–loved Jace to death, and now he was losing the love of his life before he even got to tell her that. The first death left him hollow, like a jack-o'-lantern and this one dimmed his only flickering flame of life.

But when she surprised them all by suddenly twitching to life–only to scamper around to find something to use to kill herself–Jace made the mistake in gaining hope that she would pull through from the horror of having some foreign substance being injected into her body. Because only a few seconds later, she took her life again–this time, forever gone.

"Clary," he sobbed, dropping his head, unable to look at the lifeless body only a few feet in front of him. He couldn't blame her for doing what she had done; he reacted in a similar way, which made him all the more familiar with the dull burning sensation as the demon blood flowed through his veins. But whereas he was handcuffed so he couldn't attempt to rid himself of the poison, Clary wasn't. Because when they injected it into his body, they did it for experimental reasons whereas they injected it into Clary to kill her so there would be no witnesses. Besides, they already had what they wanted.

Thinking of this and how Izzy, Alec and Simon were all targets now made his already clenched stomach tighten. He was the reason they were all in danger now, because he decided to befriend them all. If only he had listened to Jonathan's warnings to never befriend anyone since they couldn't be trusted, if only he realized Jonathan was–in some way–warning him to make things easier for himself, things wouldn't have gotten so out of control so fast.

He should've just kept to himself, or at the very least, hooked up with very few girls who acted as if they really cared instead of girls who actually did care–namely, Clary. Jace wanted to puke, so badly, because he was sickened at himself for being so selfish but couldn't bring himself to since he hadn't eaten in days. Not that it mattered anyway; wherever Valentine was taking him, he was sure there wouldn't be any luxuries there for him.

But then again, his father's words rang out: you are an experiment. Sure, Jace hadn't really done many experiments outside of school, but he had enough knowledge to know that in order to have a successful one, you needed to have your subjects alive and well–or in whatever sense of the word 'well' may be according to the experiment.

So maybe they weren't going to kill him–regardless of how much he wanted them to at that point–but starving him couldn't be good for the experiment, could it? Maybe they would feed him wherever he was going, and as if it already believed this was the case, his stomach growled with such determination, Jace winced.

How could he be so selfish at this point, only thinking about food when he should be focused on other things, like how to escape? Also finding out what Valentine's incentive was couldn't hurt.

Focusing on the latter, Jace closed his eyes and willed himself to think, to see a pattern if there was any, to Valentine's thinking. My life clearly means something to the raving lunatic, but what? And what was my father so against it? What had the psycho done to me at birth, and did it have anything to do with demon blood?

He felt something click at the back of his mind at the last two words and with newfound determination, he focused on them. Demon blood, demon blood…but what? He growled in frustration and was rewarded by a kick to the back of his already aching knees–he had been standing up for days now on a thin metal pole.

Jace roared in pain and barely heard Jonathan's laughter over his scream. "Shut up, you bastard," Jonathan snarled, shoving Jace backwards so that his skin touched the vertical searing hot pole he was handcuffed to. "Scream any louder and your girlfriend might hear you from Hell."

Clary. Instead of thinking of something snide to say to Jonathan, Jace had a strong feeling that she had something to do with the demon blood…but what? Thinking back to her reaction to it was painful, but he felt a strong pull leading him to the right answer, as if he was playing a perverse version Hot and Cold and he was getting warmer to the correct answer.

Maybe it has something to do with how she reacted…and how I reacted? He remembered it burning at first, like fire in his veins, but it dulled out quickly and certainly didn't drive him to the point of insanity like it did to Clary. But what did that mean? Maybe it was because he was more fit, physically speaking, the way he could probably handle alcohol better than Clary because of her size. But that felt…wrong. No, it couldn't be that. But what was it then?

Alec rose to consciousness the way a diver rose to the surface after spending hours submerged underwater. Everything was dull at first, but the moment he broke the surface, every sense was hitting him with full force–hearing being the first sense. Lastly, he finally gained control over his eyes and had to blink a few times before his vision stopped swimming before him and he was able to see…

Izzy and Simon, tied up to each other in an awkward position, both panting and staring at each other with lust in their eyes. The image itself was enough to make Alec squirm uncomfortably, but the look in their eyes was enough evidence to lead Alec onto an even more uncomfortable conclusion.

But when he shifted in his chair, it squeaked, giving his consciousness away and causing both Simon and Izzy to look at him. And the moment they did, both wore identical masks of complete mortification.

Izzy was the first to speak moments later. "How long have you been…?"

"I just woke up," Alec answered and shuddered when Izzy and Simon sighed in relief. "But how long have we been tied up like this?" Translation: how long have you been going at it with Simon with me in the same room?

"I woke up first," Simon piped up. "About an hour or so ago. And I figure we've been here for a while before that because when we first got into this room, it was around maybe two and now it's dark out, from what little light is coming through the curtains."

"And you've both been…?"

Simon flushed. "Yeah, we were always tied up like this. Not my doing at all."

Okay, so he got his wish granted unto him, Alec reasoned. "We should call someone, anyone, to help us. Have either of you tried screaming?"

Izzy, of the two, blushed the most. "Uh…you could say that. But no one heard us so we think this room is sound-proofed."

Alec felt his face turn an ugly shade of red and was confirmed of this fact by the mirror on the opposite wall of him that was a few inches above Izzy and Simon's head. "Oh. Well, do either of you have a cellphone or something still on you? I think mine's gone since my pocket is light now."

Izzy stared at Alec for a second, her eyes bulging out of her head as if she didn't realize this sooner and then turned her gaze towards Simon. "You need to get it out for me."

"Uh," Simon said slowly. "And how am I supposed to do that? Where is it anyway? Is it even possible?"

Izzy–not caring at this point–rolled her eyes before settling her gaze at her chest and puffed it out so that it was right under Simon's nose. "It's right here. Think you can get it out for me?"

"God, I wish I was still knocked out right now," Alec mumbled as Simon openly gaped at Izzy before flickering his gaze at Alec and back on Izzy.

"Emotions render a person weak," Valentine spoke softly, picking up the dagger Clary had used to take her own life. Upon closer inspection, he saw a sliver of skin on it and he grimaced as he wrapped the dagger with a thick cloth before shoving it into his coat pocket. "They are much stronger than a person could imagine–they can cloud your judgment in a second, make you want to do irrational things–and half the time, you follow through with them, which only further ruins things. Each and every human is susceptible to their emotions and always gives into them, never once revolting."

"And you're included with us?" Jace scoffed, spitting at Valentine's shoes a few inches away from him. "I doubt that. Nothing human can disregard emotions because that's what makes us human. The ability to feel these so-called 'debilitations', otherwise we'd all be killing machines, not caring about each other or ourselves."

"Quite the contrary," Valentine mused. "Without these debilitations, we'd be able to further our civilization and achieve our great potential we were meant to achieve a long time ago."

"And you're willing to kill anything and everything that stands in your way for that? Even if it's a defenseless child, woman or man?"

"If it stands in the way, then yes."

At this point, Jace wasn't surprised. Valentine didn't seem to give off the sympathetic vibe from the start, so why should it even matter at this point? There was just no way to get him off the Machiavelli "the end justifies the means" mindset. Jace just hoped the man got whatever he wanted and would be satisfied with that, then let him go to live a normal life. But even to himself, this wasn't a very convincing case.

"So are you just going to kill everyone on this ship, then?" Jace asked after a while. "Because if you kill Izzy, Alec and Simon, their families will notice. And if they notice, then they become targets themselves. And if they "suddenly disappear", well, that's enough to even get the captain's attention. And what do you have planned from there?"

Valentine shrugged. "It doesn't matter what happens to them. I will eventually take over this ship and steer it to the destination in mind, and what happens from there is of no importance to me. We just have to get to London on the day this 'cruise' is over with."

So we're going to London then. With this in mind, Jace came up with a new battle plan–one that he hoped wouldn't fail him. Or else his father's, Clary's, Izzy's, Alec's and Simon's sacrifice would be rendered useless. With a smile, Jace knew he was still in the game and with this last resort mission, he was hell-bent on making out of this ordeal alive along with the rest of the crew on this ship.

Brady walked down the hallway doing his usual check-up routine to make sure nothing was out of the ordinary with Tiffany on his mind the entire time. He knew he should be more professional when it came to doing the check-ups because last time he messed up, a little girl almost walked into the boiler room thinking it was her cabin room. How she even managed to get the key for the boiler room was beyond him, but that incident was enough to motivate him to never overlook small things ever again.

But Tiff's body was slamming hot! And even though he wasn't usually one for girls in uniform, she totally pulled it off. With a smile, he took out his key chain, looked for the boiler room key and was about to open the door when he saw one of the other workers, Leo, run up to him, a wild look on his sweaty face.

"Hey man," Leo panted, leaning against the wall to catch his breath. "I got it from here, no worries."

"Dude," Brady laughed. "You look like you just saw a ghost. And it's fine, I already got this."

Brady used to be suspicious around Leo because the dude, truthfully, was the weirdest guys Brady had ever seen–which is saying a lot for him. At first, Brady used to hate Leo's guts because he would do anything to get a lot of jobs and Brady thought it was because he was trying to show the boss that he was the hardest worker for a raise on his paycheck. But then Tiff told him that the guy suffered from some kind of anxiety thing, which would explain why he was always so twitchy and constantly looked over his shoulder like he expected something to jump out and attack him.

Brady felt for the guy; none of the other workers liked him because he was still considered weird since he was a new guy, but he didn't let anyone else see that he felt for the guy or else they'd think he was the weird one. Poor kid, always working to avoid actually talking to the other workers.

"Let me do it," Leo insisted, taking a step closer with his eyes wide and fixated on the keys in Brady's hands. "From what I hear, you have a hot date tonight. You'll need some time to get ready, and I got plenty of free time. Let me do it, please?"

Brady shrugged. "I guess you got a point there. Thanks man!" With that, Brady handed over his keys and began to walk away, only to stop mid-step and turning around. "Oh, and I'll need those keys back tomorrow to do my rounds, okay?"

"Sure, sure," Leo said, not taking his eyes off of the doorknob as he fumbled with the keys. Brady shook his head and walked away, wondering what was the guy's case. But had he stayed a little longer and had his head out of the clouds, he would've noticed how this Leo had pink eyes instead of the usual green, how he was an inch shorter than the last time he'd seen him and that his hair was a few shades lighter than normal. These small differences would've led Brady to believe that someone was impersonating Leo, which would've gotten him to notice how every week Leo's eyes seemed to be a different color. And if he were smart enough, he would've pieced it together to come to the conclusion that a new Leo took the previous Leo's place every week. But of course, neither of these things were the case.

Jace was pulled out of his thoughts the moment he heard footsteps and saw an unfamiliar head full of blond curls similar to his bob into view–the entire boiler room was now lit up by a single witchlight in the center of the room.

"Master?" the boy–he appeared to be around Jace's age–whispered, peering around the pipes for his so-called master.

"I'm here, Odriole," Valentine called back, suddenly appearing before the boy. "You're late. You do realize what this could've mean, don't you?"

"I apologize, Master," the boy spoke quickly. "I was forced into doing actual chores when a toilet in 4-323 got clogged and since I do not know how to–"

"Enough of your excuses, you pathetic demon," Valentine deadpanned. "You were sent out to complete a task and you just barely got by doing it, risking this entire mission not to mention your life. Fortunately for me, you somehow managed to still accomplish the former of the two. Unfortunately for you, you did not accomplish the latter." And with that, Valentine shot out his left hand. The demon collapsed instantly, a throwing dagger protruding from his chest and Jace had to replay the last five seconds in his mind to understand that Valentine had hidden a dagger in his sleeve and threw it. His speed and accuracy was enough to spook Jace and make him question if he could still pull off his plan or not.

But he had to, he reminded himself. If not for him, for everyone else who suffered at the hand of Valentine. Including Odriole, and whomever he used at his expense.

"Why did you do that?" Jace asked quietly, his head hanging low. "Why did you have to do that to him?" With every word, he felt the rage building up inside of him. "Why did you have to waste yet another life? At what cost?"

"He wasn't a boy," Valentine said, surprising Jace by speaking softly. "He was a demon. One of the many who roam this very Earth unbeknownst to ordinary humans who aren't gifted with the Sight."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about demons, warlocks, vampires, werewolves and faeries–those who plague this Earth like they own it; vermin, scoundrels, beasts that don't deserve to life but do so anyway. Their existence is the reason for your existence specifically."

"How am I related to something that sounds like it was pulled out of a comic book's ass?" Jace growled, quickly losing his patience–that is to say if he had any patience left.

"Because you are the opportunity I've been waiting to stumble upon," Valentine said gleefully. "Through all my years of extensive research, I've never actually had anyone to experiment on that was alive. I've tried it on myself, believe me, but the demon blood wouldn't stick. So clearly it didn't work for adults.

"With that in mind, I quickly realized I needed to try my secret formula to success on younger specimens. So I managed to find young dead children to use and the results were startling…if only they were alive." Jace gagged once the meaning of Valentine's carefully crafted words hit him: the monster before him paid the cemetery a "visit" on several occasions for his perverse scientific research.

"Frustrated beyond belief that I had no real specimen to experiment on, you can only imagine my delight when I heard that my only best friend, the only man I could trust with my life, was going to be a father. Finally, a specimen I had access to! It was as if God himself decided to give me a break!

"So throughout the duration of the pregnancy, I gave Celine–your mother–the formulas I had come up with and documented every single thing that had happened. And in case you are curious as to why she is no longer with us, the demon blood does wonders to young life, but as I said before, it isn't good for adults, especially by consumption. She died the second you were born."

"You're the reason why…why…" Jace was at a loss of words. So he was the reason he grew up motherless? All those years of wondering why everyone else had two parents while he had one, not even getting the chance to even know her better…all because of a sick, sad monster.

"Yes, unfortunately," Valentine said coolly. "But I didn't dwell on that too much seeing as you survived, which was very important to me. Of course, your father didn't appreciate my involvement and went into hiding. And while you were away, I managed to find my second specimen–an orphan with no place to go."

Jonathan, Jace realized. Of course Stephen wouldn't deny accepting such a helpless child because underneath all that tough exterior, he was a softie, especially after the death of his wife. And he wouldn't mention the fact that they weren't related because he wanted to give Jonathan a second chance in life by starting over.

"Given the fact that he was only a year old, he was just as quick to adapt to the blood as you were," Valentine went on happily, as if he were revisiting happy memories–and who knows, maybe they were happy memories for the pervert. "I raised him as my own before I decided to use him as a way of getting to you. So from the moment Stephen took him in, Jonathan wrote me updates every night on his observations like I taught him to. And that's how I knew where you were at all times, and how you were doing."

So regardless of my father's efforts, you always knew where I was. Jace felt regret that Stephen wasn't alive to find this out himself and had to focus on the here and now to prevent himself from falling victim to his sadness.

"So you have me now"–Jace was surprised by how unimpressed he managed to make himself sound–"why are we going to London?"

"Ah, ah, ah," Valentine chided, holding up a finger to silence Jace. "That's enough for now. Don't make me do something I'll regret later."

Like that's even possible at this point, Jace sighed.

Clary: Well…this explains an awful lot.

Simon: Makes for an awkward meet-the-family.

Jace: Indeed.

Clary: This is horrible! I can't even begin to-GAH!

Jace: Gah?

Simon: That's the sound she makes when her mind has been blown and words fail to sum up her feelings.

Jace: Ah. Gah, indeed.

Me: This was such an intense chapter, I almost died writing it.

Jace: Well don't die now! I want to know if I get a hero's kiss after saving everyone!

Simon: And who are you to say that you save everyone?

Simon *after receiving a dubious look from Jace*: Fine, okay I'll take that back because I want to live.

Jace *whispering to Clary*: So he can live to lose his virginity.

*Izzy punches Jace*

Clary, Simon, Alec and Me: THANK YOU FOR THAT!