Chapter 14

Lattes.

Lise hated lattes.

She hated frappes too, for that matter. And all those other weird drinks that Isabelle went to mundane Starbucks for. Whatever the heck it was they were called.

But here she was, sitting in the booth of some coffee shop named Java Jones, staring out the window as she pretended to listen to some teenager recite the most ridiculous poetry she had ever encountered in her life. Lise herself had never been here before, but she knew Clary and Simon went here frequently.

Lise was never a coffee person, and to her, tea was warm water with a weird aftertaste. As such, she had a hot chocolate. She knew she tended to ask baristas for no whipped cream, but there was still some sort of topping on her drink. What had Isabelle called it, foam? Whatever it was, it and its stupid chocolate sauce spiral received a scowl from Lise. With all the recently reunited couples at the New York Institute, there was enough sweet fluffy stuff in her life as it was. She didn't need anymore.

Not that she didn't care that people were together with their loved ones again, but the only person she had wanted to welcome home was her brother. But Lise never felt like she meant as much to Jace as he meant to her. And it showed: right from the moment they found him again, he was caught up in Clary. If he didn't remember she was there, no one would. No one ever needed her. All around her were people going through their daily lives, not even noticing that she was even there.

Clary noticed. Yeah, but where was she now? Probably training with Jace. And Jace? Probably caught up in the glitz and glamour of the life he once led, and she knew he'd do anything to be the best again. There was also the bonus of training with Clary...

Lise wasn't exactly jealous of their relationship. Jealous wasn't even the right word for it. In fact, she knew the minute Jace and Clary made eye contact when they were, respectively, eleven and ten, that nothing, nothing in the known universe would ever be able to separate them. She was happy for them. The two people she loved most had each other for soulmates. They'd be well taken care of. They had each other. They didn't need her anymore. It was a bittersweet feeling. She was no longer the centre of their lives. She wasn't the centre of anyone's life for that matter. Not that she ever really was in the first place. Oh, she knew people cared and that people worried. But there was a difference between knowing that and actually feeling that way.

Her dark thoughts eventually came to a screeching halt. Because of who was walking by the window. She saw Clary and Jace. Simon and Isabelle. Maia and Jordan. Luke and Jocelyn. Even Maryse and her wayward husband Robert. She then saw... No. It couldn't be. But it was her mother and a man that reminded her of Jace... Her gut said that this man was her father.

Alright, this was getting weird. But it wasn't just people she knew. Everyone around her, even within the café, was paired off. And all the couples looked happy. On top of that, none of them seemed to worry about her absence. Or anything, really. It was as if there was nothing in the world that could possibly go wrong as long as the respective loves of their lives were safe. They were too busy all basking in each other's happy presence. Too busy to worry about a dark brooding party-pooper like her...

Lise sighed and stared at the stupid white fluff on her drink, her appetite suddenly gone. She contemplated spilling the contents on a couple making out behind her when suddenly, she heard a sob. She looked up, and sitting across from her in the booth was the most miserable looking demon she had ever seen. The thing was sobbing, and somehow, she didn't feel the need to kill it. The thing didn't seem threatening; all it did was cry tears of blood.

"Lucie Cordelia Herondale," it sobbed.

Lise blinked. Once. Twice. Never in her life had she ever heard that name. But somehow, inexplicably, she knew that name was hers.

"Your story!" the thing continued. "So wretchedly sad! Your father, Stephen Herondale, left you! You hurt your mother, Amatis Graymark by reminding her of your father! Your parabatai, Clarissa Morgenstern, loves only your brother, James Carlisle Herondale. You are married to Jonathan Christopher Morgenstern, a man incapable of loving you. And once you consider his future, your future... Ah! Such sadness! What more could I possibly do to you?!"

And all at once she understood that miserable creature was Misery itself. Lise's life was suddenly flashing before her eyes: years of watching other people's lives work out for them, and she got nothing more than living out happy endings vicariously through them...

...she wasn't meant to have a happy ending, was she?

"Lise? Lise?! LISE!"

Lise shot up. And her head exploded as a result. Pressing her hands against her eyelids, she tried to think. Oh well, at least she knew this was real.

"Angel..." she grumbled. "My head..."

"Luciana Graymark, I swear on the Angel you are the most infuriating person I have ever met!"

Lise blinked. Once. Twice. Then her eyes settled on an angry Clary. And Jace was giving her a concerned look. Though his arms were around Clary. Of course they were.

"Don't you know how worried I was?! How worried everyone was?!"

Lise couldn't exactly think of an appropriate response through her pounding headache, and besides, if it wasn't for the fact that Clary was leaning back into Jace's arms, she would have been on the receiving end of a very loud lecture. For that, she sent her brother a grateful look. Jace's arms tightened around Clary as a response. But Lise was still reeling from the name that Misery called her.

Herondale.

Glancing at Jace and Clary, Lise struggled off the bed. Standing up, feeling a little worse for wear, she started walking out of the infirmary.

"Lise! Come back here! Stop leaving me!"

Lise stopped. And almost felt bad. Almost.

"Fine," Clary relented. Jace must have told her to calm down. "Do what you want, Luciana. You always have. But Lise, this time at least tell me where you're going?"

Lise almost smiled. Yeah, she could do that.

"I'm going to the library. I have a family tree to check."

Sitting in her favourite chair in the library, Lise thumbed through one of the many volumes of Shadowhunter genealogies. Every Institute received updated versions every year as to account for new births, new deaths, new parabatai bonds, and new marriages. Lise paused to shiver at the possibility of having to tell the Clave she was married now...

But that was not why she was here. Right now, she had to figure out where she came from. Because when you're sixteen/seventeen-ish and you have never had an identity crisis in your life until your recent marriage... How had she gone through life and never questioned who her mother was? And by the Angel, she had no idea how old she actually was, or whether the day she chose to celebrate was actually her real birthday. Well, the only clue she really had to finding herself was the bold word that made her stop flipping through the book.

Herondale. She had found the page. Well, one of several pages. She'd really rather not read the whole thing, and so she sat there, letting her eyes skip over name after name. She felt ashamed now that this family had so many noble names. Names famous (and infamous) in old Shadowhunter "campfire" stories. And she never knew she was related to all of them. There was Tobias, a traitor so dark and deep and old that no one knew what he did. Edmund, who left the Shadowhunters for a mundane. His son, the cursed William. William's sister Cecily, among the most famous of early Shadowhunter women to fight. Legend also said that William had two children with a warlock: James and Lucie.

So that was where their names came from. Their first names, anyway. But their middle names? Lise then noticed the list of parabatai pairs at the bottom of the family tree. There. There was a girl who was parabatai to Lucie: Cordelia. But Carlisle? Another parabatai listing caught her eye, and she wanted to smack her face into the wall. How on Earth did she forget that William and his parabatai James had put all other parabatai to shame? Their bond was the greatest, perhaps the most legendary… And it just so happened that James and Cordelia were from the Carstairs family. Carstairs. Carlisle...

Lise had always liked the Carstairs family. They were nice people from California, and little Emma reminded Lise very much of herself at that age. But even then, there was that little pang of jealousy. Little Emma and her best friend Julian had something special. Geez. Even little kids were happier than she was.

Lise then noticed the names on the bottom of the family tree. Stephen Herondale. Married twice, it said here. Once to Amatis Graymark, and once to Celine Montclaire. He had been deceased 17 years now. Celine too, for that matter. But what really stuck Lise was that the pregnancy announcements for Amatis and Celine. Amatis's baby was due about a month before Celine's. She then saw a divorce listed, and a month after the divorce, Stephen married Celine. Lise felt sick. Her father, if she could even call him that, did not waste anytime at all. However, Celine died a month before the baby was due, and it would seem that after Stephen remarried, Amatis disappeared, which is why her baby's birth was never listed.

Wait a second. Graymark. Like Luciana Graymark, the name Lise had used for years. It came from Lucian Graymark, whose name was now Luke Garroway...

Lise slammed the book shut and tossed it carelessly onto the nearby love seat. Marching toward the door, she was about to fling it open when the door opened itself, and she came face to face with her equally startled brother.

"Lise," he breathed out.

"Jace," she breathed back. Silence, then she quickly recomposed herself. "Where's Clary?"

Jace quickly frowned. "You've been gone after one day of my being here, and you have the nerve to ask me where Clary is?!"

Lise frowned back. Why was he so upset? "I do care for my parabatai, you know. I thought you'd understand."

"Understand what?"

"Having concern for your better half. Especially since you have both kinds."

"And what is that supposed to mean?"

"You have Alec. And you have Clary. They're your priorities now."

"And they're both fine. Which means I can now worry about my own flesh and blood."

"Well, if we have anything in common besides that, then you'd at least know that there was no reason to worry. I can take care of myself."

"That doesn't mean you have to."

"Yes it does!"

Before Jace could respond, Alec called his name.

Jace whirled on him. "What, Alec?"

Lise gave her brother a look. I told you to check up on him. "Well, I'll leave you two to talk, then."

As she brushed past him, she could sense Jace wanted to stop her from leaving. But it was Alec who grabbed her wrist.

"Yes. That's exactly what we want to do, Lise. Talk. I came to get you and Jace to the Sanctuary. Clary thinks that wherever you went and whatever happened is something that Luke's pack should know."

Lise snorted, and she only just barely kept the bitterness out of her voice. "She just doesn't want to leave Simon."

Jace smirked. "Not to mention that a certain warlock is there."

Alec's face went red as he began choking and spluttering. Frankly, if Lise wasn't in such a world-weary mood, she might have laughed.

But no. She merely sighed. "Fine." She supposed she had better get used to doing things she didn't like. After all, she was never meant to be happy.

It was the first time everyone was in the same room. Isabelle had joined them on the way to the Sanctuary and helpfully informed Lise of every romance that had developed in her absence. Of course, Jace and Clary made progress, as had Jordan and Maia. Yeesh. Like that was unexpected. Lise almost wished she was still out in that hallway: Jace and Isabelle making fun of Alec for his crush on Magnus, Alec getting back at Isabelle by bringing up Simon, Jace laughing at both of them, then the two of them calling whipped over Clary, and all the while, Lise drifted farther and farther behind them, feeling lonely as ever...

Instead, Lise found herself explaining to Simon, Magnus, the werewolves, and the other Shadowhunters what was really going on. She started out easy: revealing what she had found out about her and Jace's true bloodline. Then, she trudged onto the harder subjects. Her demon blood. Her constant disappearances that lasted for weeks. And… Jonathan. Only, she knew everyone prefered to call him by his stolen identity Sebastian, so she used that name instead. It made things a little easier for them, she supposed. Sebastian wasn't the name of anyone particularly close to them. Jonathan, on the other hand…

Jace was frowning. "So… now my sister is married to a hideous psycho?"

"He's not hideous," said Isabelle.

Jace blinked at her. "What?"

"Sebastian Verlac," said Isabelle. "He's really quite good-looking, not hideous at all."

"I spoke," said Jace, in sepulchral tones, "of the pitch-black inner depths of his soul."

"If he even has one," Alec pointed out. "After all, he's mostly demonic at this point."

Lise noticed Jocelyn's wince, how Luke placed a steady hand on her shoulder, and how Jocelyn placed her own hand on his.

You have no idea what a beautiful thing that kind of comfort is, Lady Jocelyn.

"So…" Simon broke the silence. "What now?"

Lise sighed. "Well, I suppose now the only thing we can do now is wait."

"Wait?" Lise knew what Jace was thinking: absolutely not.

"Yes. He's never going to let me go, you know. I'm the only thing in this world that's really his."

"What do you mean by that?" Jocelyn frowned.

"Well, to put it bluntly, Lady Jocelyn," Lise sensed Jocelyn almost smiling at the old nickname. "He hates you. Valentine's dead, and while Sebastian may not agree with Jace and Clary enraptured with each other rather than him, he respects the two of them enough to allow them to belong to each other.

"And then…" Lise sighed. "There's me. In his eyes, the only tie I truly have is the demonic marriage to him. He said he wanted to bind Jace to him with a dark parabatai rune, but..."

"But what?" Jace snapped.

Lise shrugged. "I was easier, I suppose. In some ways, he views me as more like him than anyone else, what with the demon blood and all. But I honestly think he's obsessed with me because through me, his birds are all hit with one stone. He wishes for a parabatai, or at the very least, a loyal companion. That was supposed to be you, Jace, but he settles for me because I am your sister."

Lise turned to Jocelyn. "Sebastian never viewed you as much of a parent, so he clung to every single one of Valentine's words. There was one distinct piece of advice I remember Valentine giving, or rather, it was a joke. He said that I was a pretty little girl, and that I'd make a man a lucky groom one day. Ever since then, Sebastian had been intent on making me his. All because it was the only piece of fatherly advice ever given to him."

And finally, Lise looked sadly at Clary. "But most of all, he wants a queen. Yes, he wants to burn the world down, but after all is said and done, he doesn't want to be alone in all this. He wants someone to rule beside him, and well… Something's convinced him to settle for me. Maybe because I'm your parabatai, Clare."

Silence, then Clary got up and hugged Lise. After a while, Lise hugged her back. Clary looked up at the taller girl, and Lise almost felt like the two of them were kids again. Clary had that same scared look in her bright green eyes. Eyes that could have been Jonathan's… Should have been Jonathan's...

"Let's go to Idris," Clary said suddenly.

Lise blinked. "Whatever for?"

Maryse stepped forward. "It would be best if we informed the Clave of Alec and Jace's return. Not to mention the truth about your and Jace's births…" Maryse pursed her lips. "We don't have to report your marriage, Lise. I hardly think it's legitimate, all things considered, but if you feel that they need to know… It's your call."

Lise gave the pretty woman a small smile. "And I appreciate that. But…" Lise shrugged and turned her gaze out the window. It was a dark and stormy night out.

Lise might have been whispering, but the whole room heard her.

My name is Lucie Cordelia Herondale, and whether I like it or not, I belong to Jonathan Christopher Morganstern.

(A/N: Surprised to see me? Yeah, well. I have something planned. But please leave a review, at least.)

-Lise Graymark