Clary ripped through another demon, ignoring the blood from a cut running down her arm. She had had enough of this. Simon, Jasper, Nessie, and Isaac had returned, but Isaac had ran into the woods, 'to chase some demons' but she knew something had happened on the boat to make him want to be alone. Nessie and his parents had tried to stop him, but he had just kept running like he hadn't heard them.

Her husband was right behind her, slashing their enemies to bits as he stayed close to her. She wished their parabatai were there, but Alec and Isabelle were still both in New York, along with Carlisle. The Cullens were holding there own, ripping and biting at the demons. Suddenly she felt a whoosh of air and turned to the side to see a half-grinning, half-scowling Jonathon. She immediately tried to hit him, but he was as fast as Jace, and was now ten feet away from her. He snapped his fingers, and the demons stopped and sunk into the ground or disappeared. Clary glared at him.

"Let's end this, Jonathon." He grinned fully now, as if she had said something he had predicted she would. The Fairchild (and Morgenstern, even if she hated to admit it) absolutely hated her brother with her whole soul. He was a heartless monster, and it had nothing to do with the demon blood that their father had injected into him when he was inside their mother. He was evil, through-and-through, on his own.

A part of her pitited the man, because, maybe if Valentine hadn't raised him the way he had, then Jonathon could have been a regular, peaceful Shadowhunter. But no, he had followed Valentine's footsteps and had disgraced the Nephilim name, cutting himself from all ties except to the one they had always been to: his father.

"That's exactly what I had in mind, sister," he said, taking a seraph blade out. He gave it a name: Cassiel Clary saw black criss-crosses and swirls on his skin, fresh Marks. He had come prepared for a battle. Clary scowled.

"Do you dare to mock us, Jonathon? What right have you to runes and seraph blades?" Jonathon looked amused at her question, and said,

"Am I not one of the Nephilim? I am not a fairie, or a warlock. I am the child of two great Shadowhunter families; this demon blood of mine was at first foreign, not a natural part of me. I, too, am a Shadowhunter, whether you choose to admit it or not."

"You are supposed to be dead," Clary said, feeling a bit like a hypocrite; her own husband had died at the hand of her father when he was seventeen. It had only been by her wish of the Angel that he had come back to life. Jonathon shrugged.

"I do not know how I still walk this earth, but time is growing short." He held up Cassiel. "Who will fight me?"

Jace stepped forward, ready to give the *beep* a piece of his mind, but Clary put a hand on her shoulder, an odd look in her eyes. "No." Jace looked at her, surprised.

"He's mine. You had your chance, Jace. Now it's my turn." She got out a new seraph blade; her other one had dissolved from so much demon blood. Her brother smiled.

"You know," he said, as if it had just occured to him, "I have a nephew, don't I? So sorry I haven't had a chance to meet him. I came close, though. But it's so hard to get Raveners to do what you want; they're so stupid." When Clary heard 'Ravener', her mind went back to that night when her mother had been kidnapped, that terrifying night when she found out about the Shadow World, the night her life changed forever.

She realized that her brother had planned to kidnap Stephen, and fury rose inside of her. She thought of poor Max, who Jonathon had brutally murdered, and the anger in her rose to a burning inferno.

(A.N-This next thing isn't a direct quote, but something like it. Maybe from CoA.)

"Is Raziel's name ever used?" she asked.

"No, never," Jace said.

Clary clenched the unnamed seraph in her hand, and said without thinking,

"Raziel!" A blinding flash eminated from her hand, and when it subsided, everyone was shielding their eyes. The light it gave off was still bright, but managable. The blade pulsed with power. Jonathon looked aghast.

"You-you've-" he stuttered, not managing to get the words out. Clary held the weapon in front of her face.

"The Angel's spit killed our father," she said solemnly. "Let's see what his name-invoked blade will do."

...
Isaac...
Woods...

Isaac sank his teeth into anoth deer. He felt bad about leaving everyone to deal with the demons, but he needed blood. And he couldn't stand being near Nessie. What she had said had hurt him, badly. But the worse part was that he felt that she was right. He probably would have jumped the first thing that had blood. Just that she had said that put him in some sort of shock, and he didn't feel thirsty until the four of them had swum back.

A twig snapped behind him. He spun, ready to attack, but it was just Nessie. She looked, well, horrible. Her beautiful bronze hair was matted with dirt, and her clothes were stained and wrinkled. She stepped forward, cautiously, as if she expected him to bolt, like the deer he had just drained.

"Isaac," she said, "we need to talk."

"What about?" Isaac asked, even though he knew exactly what she had come for.

"Please," she said, "accept my apology. Forgive me. I didn't...I don't know what I was thinking. I know that's a bad excuse, but it's the only one I have." She sighed, and looked at him. "I was wrong. No, don't you dare say anything. Yes, maybe you would be tempted, but I'm sure you would never have. I shouldn't have said that. I guess I was just worried-" she was cut off by Isaac's lips on hers.

"You talk too much," he said. "And, yes, I forgive. And...thank-you." Nessie smiled. She gave him another kiss, and then she said,

"Come on, let's get back to the others.

...
Clary and Jonathon

Cassiel and Raziel clashed, Clary's blade winning. She pushed her brother backwards, towards a cliff that dropped onto sharp rocks. She wanted to push the demon-man onto those lethal points, wanted him to die for good this time. They had each fought well so far; twisting and clashing, dodging and slashing. Clary was fast, not as fast as Jace or Jonathon, but she could sort of keep up with him.

It helped that she had named her blade like she did; that was her trump card. Jonathon didn't stand a chance. Everywhere she cut him, he bled, even shallow cuts that shouldn't have hurt him. Deep cuts gushed brownish-colored blood, a tribute to his demon and Shadowhunter blood.

They were at the edge now. Suddenly Jonathon zipped behind her and pushed her. She stumbled, losing her footing. A slash at her back forced her over the edge. She barely had enough time to grab the cliff ledge so she wouldn't fall to her death on the rocks.

Her brother looked down at her with delirous excitement. She wondered if this was what he looked like when he had killed Max. She didn't wonder long, however, because she put her seraph blade behind his leg and cut into it, making him fall over her. Jonathon grabbed onto her leg, pulling her down. She flailed wildly, trying to shake him off, but he held fast.

"If I'm going to die, I'm taking you with me!" he shrieked. Jace and the others were there in a flash, trying to pull her up, but Jonathon's weight and attempts to drag them down weren't helping the situation. Clary noticed that Isaac was back, with Nessie.

Finally Jace got his own blade out and threw it at Jonathon's eye. Instinctively, the man put his hand out to stop it, and a hard kick from Clary broke his hold. His horrible scream ended only when a spike pierced through him. Jace noticed it was the exact spot where a knife would come out the front if you hit someone in that special place in the back, where you could sever the spine and pierce the heart at the same time.

Jace and Simon helped Clary help, and she fell into her husband's arms.

"It's over," she said, sighing happily. "It's all over."