Title: The Mortal Instruments: City of Forsaken Hearts

Chapter 14: Worry

Authors Note: I love you all and your fabulous reviewing and follows. With all this love you guys keep giving me I may never end this story (it's going to feel like a never-ending story anyways. I went off my outline and now who knows when it ends, oops… ). Anyways. LOVELY READERS YOU ARE ALL FLAWLESS THANKS FOR THE FEEDBACK! Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own The Mortal Instruments or any of its characters. All respectful material belongs to Cassandra Clare – including the universe created for this story.

Alec didn't wake up that day.

Or the next day…or the day after that one for matter of fact. And all the while Magnus sat, quiet and absorbed in the magnetizing draw the injured, unconscious shadow hunter held over him. He could remember all the nights he had warmed these sheets with Alec right there, always faintly amused if he complained about his hair being messed up or when Chairman Meow was watching them and Alec would suddenly refuse to do anything until Magnus kicked his feline out.

He remembered lazy, raining long mornings where tear drops from the sky pelted against the windows, and he would bury his face into Alec's warm shoulder, his arm wrapped around his chest with Alec's leg tossed over his. They would be tangled up in each other.

Magnus hadn't realized how lonely and the deep ache that loneliness felt until now – with Alec's body there reminding him, but his conscious somewhere else. "You should be waking up," Magnus muttered, not understanding. He had healed the marks tormented into Alec – the burns and mutilated flesh that had been sheared with the sharp edge of a knife. His hands curled into fists at his side.

Whoever was responsible…well…they would die. There was no other option for Magnus. He would strangle the life out of them for this, and for reminding him again how lonely he was – how being alone became a heavy weight that pulled and strained on you. He was drained.

An immortal being such as himself…learned how to be alone and consider the silence, and the independence rewarding. He always thought he was a creature bred to enjoy solitary.

Really all this time, all of these years…he had been waiting for his true half.

And now there was nothing the great warlock, Magnas Bane, could do to cause Alec to wake up. His sudden uselessness frustrated him to the point that little blue sparks were randomly coming off his fingertips. He could do anything. There wasn't another warlock on the planet like him. He was powerful, and strong. He was not going to sit here and accept that Alec was possibly gone or would never wake up.

"You are going to wake up," Magnus bristled, he stood from the chair, his legs felt sore and cramped. He had been sitting there, motionless for too long. "And when you do, I promise we will talk," he leaned down, his soft warm lips contacted with Alec's cold ones. He waited, almost expecting Alec to wake up, like one of those mundane fairy tales of Sleeping Beauty. Of course his stubborn shadow hunter didn't. Magnus sighed as he pulled away, his hand squeezed Alec's once more before he turned and left the room.

There were preparations to be done.

"How long is this going to take? I hate standing here!" Isabelle snipped, she was boiling something over the stove in Magnus's kitchen – which was never a good sign as the steam poured over the stove and an unusual odor filled the room. It smelled like burnt rubber and pesticide, but nobody was too eager to tell Isabelle that. They all just sat, exhausted in the living room while waiting for someone to come out with a bright idea.

So far, nobody had a clue what any of the symbols on Alec or Dyana meant. Nobody knew how they were supposed to find out or who to ask, and nobody knew how to wake Alec up. There had been suggestions to go to the bone city, but of course when Jace had promptly departed, he had arrived with the cold, burdening news that the city was empty.

Much as the rest of their population seemed to have gone into hiding.

Nobody touched much on the massacre, or the sudden disappearance of Jocelyn, Luke and Maryse along with many other shadow hunters. Caleb had reported Taran and Cyrena were also gone, and it had left them all with a clammy, cold fear that grew with each passing moment nothing was done.

This wasn't like finding the mortal cup, or even walking into a hotel full of vampires. Clary knew this time…this was something beyond her ability. This time she wasn't saving Jace. She wasn't running into danger with only him on her mind. This was their entire city, tainted with the sins of genocide. The blood still sparkled in the streets, bodies decayed under the flickering heavy sun.

No rune was going to help her, and that was all she really felt she did. Her angel powers weren't kicking in and helping her much this time. She had tried to visualize, squeezing her eyes closed with her hand clutching a pencil, but nothing would ever happen. If she thought about it too much she'd suddenly become panicked, and she would obsess over dark thoughts. She didn't have Luke or her Mother. Jace and Alec and Isabelle were worried about their parents. The bone city couldn't help. They had no mentor as they had had last time.

They were on their own – shockingly, and terrifyingly on their own. What if they couldn't do anything? She kept her head down, her lips sealed shut. These were forbidden thoughts to say out loud. The first time she had expressed her worry, Jace had become defensive to a hostile, shouting point. He wouldn't hear anything short of waking Alec and finding the demons responsible and slaying them, all while possibly saving their family.

In other words, they needed a miracle.

Magnus strolled out to their down faces. Simon was hanging upside down off the couch, glancing at the ceiling. Isabelle was cooking something foul in his kitchen. Jace was pacing by the window. Clary continued to stare across the wall, her eyes dazed and lost. Dyana was nearby, playing a game on her cell phone, which sad to say was the most productive activity of all of them. He didn't know where Caleb was, and he didn't really care.

"Alec should be awake," his eyes were hard as he spoke, the lines of his face aged him, "I believe he might be cursed."

Jace spun around, his eyes molten and alive, "Then wake him up! You're a warlock!"

"Would if I could, curses aren't my specialty," he swallowed his own thick pride in order to admit that, his eyes flickering towards their desperate and hollowed faces. All of the fear had accumulated into shadows and bags under their eyes, red rimmed irises. Dear god is that what he looked like? Magnus shuddered.

Dyana poked her head up from angry birds, "Alright so who is an expert?"

"A fair question," Magnus, rolled his shoulders, his voice took on a new gravity of seriousness, "I need you all to consider something before I ask you to do this. Exactly how far are you willing to go in order to save Alec's life?"

Jace stopped his pacing, he stared at the warlock and considered sticking a knife through his heart. It probably wouldn't kill him, but it would be satisfying. "Tell us warlock before I stick my stele in your cold black un-beating dead heart," Jace warned, flipping his stele out.

"No need to become so rude in my house, boy," Magnus snapped, his eyes glittered fiercely, "There are some places not even the Clave knows of, and they are dark and full of perils."

"This is New York every street is full of peril," Dyana muttered dryly under her breath, "Try hailing a cab at Christmas."

"The Clave knows everything," Jace argued, his chin sticking out as he continued to play with the dagger, he wanted very much to use it, right then and there and plant it through Magnus's face if he didn't get to the point of their destination already.

Magnus shrugged, if they wanted to so willingly risk their lives, then fine. "You have your city shadow hunter," his eyes glistened, they flickered, changing colors it seemed from gold to ruby, "and we down worlders have ours. Decarthe is not a welcoming place for little Nephilim such as yourselves."

There wasn't a single book or instruction Jace or Isabelle could recall where a city named Decarthe had been mentioned. They remained quiet with their eyes large on Magnus. Only the Nephilim had their city and of course the demons went to whatever strange home planet they were sent back to. No one had ever worried about where the down worlders went. The faeries had their own world under ground. The vampires stayed in covens, the werewolves in their packs. Elves moved about the forests and warlocks and witches migrated or assimilated into the human world.

Never, had a dark city ever been mentioned.

"Decarthe has been under your nose, this entire time. Its door is located near here, a frequent establishment that attracts quite a bit of demon and down worlder activity. I wonder if you can guess where."

Jace suggested a few places, growing more and more frustrated when Magnus told him to think harder. Simon suggested a vegan store on the corner of South street. Isabelle grunted and continued to murder something in the kitchen.

"Pandemonium," Clary spoke up from the couch, her eyes glued on Magnus, "Its in the club, Pandemonium," and before her eyes she could practically see it. Her fingers itched to paint the darkness, the oozing smoke that wisped around the corners, the tall buildings made of smooth black marble. The streets that were stained with a glittering red. All over a pale, yellow moon.

Magnus nodded, "I suggest you all put on your clubbing clothes, and prepare yourselves," his voice warned as he stepped away, "The children of dark ones don't appreciate sharing their city with the Nephilim."

"Jace get over it. I'm coming with," Clary sighed, exhausted with the battle as she prepared herself by sliding on the shadow hunter gear. She was not amused when Jace tried to grab her stele before she could. If he hadn't attempted it half way across the room he would have succeeded. She promptly shoved it away before he could make a grab for it again.

"This is going to be too dangerous! Clary! Just stay here!" he tried a different tactic, turning his liquid fire eyes on her, "Please. I can't lose you."

Clary smiled, she walked up and patted his cheek, "You won't. I'm still coming," someone had to be able to draw a new rune when they ended up in trouble and needed to be saved.

Jace squeezed his hand over her wrist, his eyes transfixed. "I've never heard of this place Clary. This isn't like walking into that hotel to save Simon, or following me and hoping to save me from Sebastian. This is none of those things. We may very well all die." His throat caught on the words, and Jace knew them to be true.

"Then I want to be there with you," Clary squeezed his shoulder reassuringly, "I know the risk Jace, I like it less than you do. Alec needs this, and my mom," she stressed her mom's name, hoping he would realize how important this was to her, "she's missing again and so is Luke and Maryse, if there's even a chance we could find something out here, we have to take it. And I need to be apart of it now, Jace. I'm a shadow hunter. And you told me once this is what Shadow Hunters do, we're going to do it together and because we're together, I believe everything is going to be okay."

He starred at her, surprised and touched and back to being surprised all at once. "You always do say the perfect thing," he murmured, and leaned down to press his lips against hers. They were warm and welcoming, and well received as Clary deepened the kiss. Jace's arms came tightly around her and she clung to the back of his shirt. He deepened the kiss and she angled her lips, his tongue met hers and she moaned as he captured her mouth hard against his own. She clung on, her hands trembled, and every sensitive nerve was about to catch fire. And then it always happened.

A nasty, burning shock suddenly ran through her, and the heavenly fire flared up in Jace. He swore as he pulled away, looking disgusted with himself, "Clary I'm sorry!" he snarled in frustration.

She tried not to look too disappointed, "Its probably good for your ego," she remarked, smiling a little, doing her best to take that look of self-loathing on his face. He was about to find a way to punish himself for it, she could always tell.

Jace raised an eyebrow at that, "How is not kissing you good for my ego?"

"Well, if you keep shocking me like that, I'll stop going to putty in your hands."

Jace snickered, "If there's one thing I'm not worried about, its you losing control every time I kiss you. I am an excellent kisser, your reaction to that is never going to change."

Clary snorted despite what he was saying being fairly true, "Just hand me my dagger."

"Not until you admit it," he smirked.

Clary starred at him, her eyes narrowing, "Admit what?"

"How you completely swoon around me."

She starred at him, holding her dagger as a hostage just so he could get his ego fluffed, "Never mind. I'll go and get one from the training room."

Jace flipped the handle over, allowing Clary to grab it and shove it into her boot. She watched him move out of the corner of her eye for a moment. She could remember way back, when her mom had warned her about boys and falling in love too early. She also remembered her mother worrying she'd spend all of her training time oogling him. Silently, she appreciated oogling him now as he stripped off his shirt to change. His muscles gleamed, the fire in his veins made him seem as if there was a natural warm, effulgent glow about him.

"Like what you see?"

Her cheeks flushed as she realized he had been watching her through the mirror, and how her eyes continued to linger against him. "I was just –," she couldn't think of a damn thing.

He smirked, stalking closer to her. She leaned back against the wall and he placed his hands on either side of her head. He leaned in, and ever so carefully nipped against her bottom cheek, pulling away before he burned her. His bare chest wasn't quite touching her, but if she moved a quarter inch forward, she would have felt every line of his muscle against her body. As it was the warmth radiating off of him had her heart hammering inside her chest. She bit her lip as he smirked down at her.

"Admiring my fabulous body?" he finished for her with a cocky eyebrow raise.

"You know, considering we might all die in a few hours I figured it could be my last chance."

His eyes darkened at that response, "I'm not going to let you die," he kissed her nosily once, and then moved away to wrestle up a clean black shirt, and find his hunting jacket. He hid the runes as well as he could with his clothes – but the chances of them getting through this new city without being detected….

"They're probably all waiting for us downstairs," it had been decided that they would all leave from here. Magnus and Simon would meet up at the Pandemonium club tonight.

Only the fates would know what would be in store for them after that.

Hope this was an interesting story turn for you guys and remember to review! You're all awesome 3