Fourteen

Even the after-glow of Jace's kisses was not enough to lighten what Hodge had to tell them. Everyone gathered in the library, crowding around his desk, Jonathan asked the question on everyone's minds, "Is this about 'The Resistance'?" His tone held a mocking edge as he uttered the groups' name, but no one smiled.

Hodge sighed, "Unfortunately not. I've talked to the Clave, the number of Downworlder attacks is on the rise but everyone is turning a blind eye, no one wants the Accords to be broken, it would mean war, and with the way Downworlder numbers have risen over the years it's a war we may not win."

At that everyone became very pale and Jonathan spoke up angrily, "So their solution is just to stand by and let them have free reign?"

"You know how the Clave work, they're not going to act without irrefutable evidence."

"A testimony is irrefutable evidence! Dorothea may be a mundane but she's part of the Shadoworld!"

Hodge's hands clenched, "But that's the thing! There are no testimony's! Apart from Jace and Clary who are sixteen and therefore unlikely to be taken seriously, no Shadowhunter has ever seen the group in action! And no Downworlder is going to come forward, any of them that haven't joined 'The Resistance' are keeping their heads down and staying the hell out of the way!"

"I'm nearly seventeen!" muttered Jace reproachfully.

Hodge glared at him, "You know as well as I do that until you turn eighteen you're not an adult. No one is going to start a war on the word of a child."

Jace glared back and Hodge's shoulders slumped, as if all the fight had gone from him, "I know you're not a child Jace," he said quietly, "But you know I'm right."

For the first time since she'd walked into the room Clary spoke, "Okay, so why are we here?"

Hodge smiled tiredly, "I have a job for you, the number of murders and missing persons in the area around the Alto Bar in Brooklyn has increased exponentially," he screwed up his nose, "drunk mundanes make easy targets. Anyway, reports suggest a group of Eidolon Demons, I need you all to go down there and check it out, kill them if you can. And you have the perfect cover, there's a band playing tonight," he checked his notes, "it's called Lawn-Chair Crisis."

Jace made a chocking sound, "You want us to go listen to a band called Lawn-Chair Crisis?"

Hodge checked his notes again, "Last week it was called Rock Solid Panda."

"And they change their name weekly, this just keeps getting better and better."

Hodge ignored him, "With everything that's going on right now I wouldn't send you unless I thought it was necessary, and obviously I can't come with you, so you will all have to promise to stay together."

Jonathan looked confused, "Why can't you come?"

Clary rolled her eyes, "Honestly Jon! You'd know these things if you paid the slightest bit of attention to mom's history lessons!"

He grinned at her, "I don't have to pay attention in history, that's what I have you for, my dearest sister."

She glared at him, "Hodge can't leave the Institute because-" She broke off, realising it might be a touchy subject, but Hodge smiled benevolently at her and gestured for her to continue. "The Lightwoods and Hodge were part of fath- Valentine's inner circle, they fought at the final battle but surrendered, the Clave banished them to the New York Institute and cursed Hodge so that he could never leave."

Silence descended on the group, Isabelle and Alec looked particularly grim, it's not nice to be reminded that your parents were once on the wrong side. Though Clary doubted they understood half of what her and Jonathan felt, their father wasn't on the wrong side, he was the wrong side.

It was Isabelle who spoke first, "What time does the band play Hodge?"

He looked again at the flyer on his desk, "Eight O'clock."

Isabelle grabbed Jon's wrist and checked his watch, "Excellent, we have two hours until we have to leave."

Clary started in surprise, it was that late already? Where had that day gone?

Isabelle grabbed Clary and began dragging her to the door, "Come on Clary, we'll go to my room, I need to find you something decent to wear."

Clary tried to pull away, she'd hoped to spend a bit more time with Jace and judging by the frustration on his face he'd been thinking something similar. "Isabelle, there is nothing wrong with my clothes!"

She stopped trying to pull Clary's arm out of its socket and turned to face her instead, giving a critical once-over that made Clary feel instantly self-conscious, "From what I've seen the only thing you own is jeans and T-shirts."

Clary opened her mouth to deny it but since it was true she changed tack, "There's nothing wrong with jeans and T-shirts!"

Isabelle smiled conspiratorially, "There is tonight." And with that Clary was dragged from the room.

Fifteen minutes later Clary was standing in Isabelle's exploded disco ball themed bedroom, wearing one of Isabelle's shirts, as a dress.

"I cannot wear this!"

Isabelle glared at her, "Of course you can!"

"I look like a hooker!"

Her frown deepened, "Watch it! Those are my clothes you're wearing!"

"Exactly! I am wearing your shirt! As in, designed to go with pants!"

"You're short, you can pull it off."

She was digging around in her wardrobe, and immerged triumphantly a second later brandishing a pair of stiletto-heeled knee-high boots. Clary stared at them for a moment, unlike her who wouldn't wear a pair of shoes without first putting a soundless rune on them; Isabelle seemed to enjoy the novelty of noisy, inappropriate footwear.

Clary shook her head, "No way Isabelle, we have to fight tonight! I'll break my ankle!"

"You're a Shadowhunter! Don't even try to pretend you can't balance in them!"

"But they're so uncomfortable!" she whined

"I don't care, like I said before, you're short, you need all the help you can get."

Clary glared at her for a moment and then pulled them on, they fit surprisingly well and even had a sheath hidden in them so she wouldn't have to go without her dagger.

Isabelle eyed her appreciatively for a moment and then gestured to the chair in front of her dresser, "Now sit down, I have to do your make-up."

Clary shook her head.

"Clary!" Isabelle's voice had taken on a pleading note, "I've barely had any contact with girls my own age! Are you really going to deny me the opportunity for girly things?"

"I don't do girly things Isabelle!"

She glared, "Either you sit down willingly and let me do your make-up or I tie you to the chair with my whip."

Clary laughed, "The easy way or the hard way huh?"

The other girl fingered her weapon dangerously and Clary decided it might be a good idea just to do as she was told.

Isabelle clapped delightedly as she sat down and immediately pounced with a flurry of brushes.

"So Clary, have you kissed my brother yet?"

Clary looked up quickly; Isabelle's reflection was staring at her shrewdly through the mirror.

"Who?" she asked innocently.

Isabelle rolled her eyes, "Jace of course! I'm hardly talking about Alec he's gay!" she clapped her hand over her mouth too late to stop the sentence from escaping. "You can't tell anyone! You must know what a huge deal that is for Shadowhunters!"

Clary shook her head, "I won't tell, but you know in the mundane world it's not that big a deal. They even hold parades for it."

Isabelle sighed, "I don't think there are any gay Shadowhunter parades in our future," her face twisted in disgust, "they're treated so badly they'd rather fall on their seraph blade than admit to having 'unnatural urges'."

"Does your family know?"

"Jace and I do, I keep trying to convince Alec that our parents would love him no matter what, but the worst thing is I'm not even entirely sure that it's true, and I think he knows it."

They both lapsed into silence for a while then Isabelle dragged them back to their original topic, "I'm going to assume from the way you were blushing before that I was right. Just… don't break his heart okay? He has enough issues as it is."

Clary's mouth hung open, that was not at all what she'd expected, and the very thought that she of all people could break Jace's heart was ridiculous.

Isabelle correctly interpreted her expression, "He treats girls the way normal people treat newspapers, he picks one up, figures her out and then drops her. I've never seen him get so much as a crush on anyone before. You're different. You didn't know him before, so you can't understand how strange it is to see his eyes following someone around the room, you're all he sees."

Clary was speechless, caught between asking Isabelle to repeat the entire thing, especially the last bit, and accusing her of mental instability. There was no way she was that special. But Isabelle spoke first, "All done!"

Clary looked in the mirror, and did a double take. Her freckles had been obliterated by perfect foundation and a cream-and-roses complexion, her eyes were surrounded by Smokey make-up that bought out the vibrant green in them. Her lips were smudged pale pink. She looked…beautiful.

Isabelle gave a self-congratulatory smile, "You look awesome! Now get up, I need to get ready."