Ok, new chapter is HERE! Now, I'm not sure how much longer this story is going to run but I have at least one more idea in my busy little mind here so we'll see how it goes. Anyway, I would just like to take a second and mention some things:
The name of the fourth Mortal Instruments book, Simon's POV, to be released in March of 2011 is City of Fallen Angels.
There is a new website up and running by a fellow writer (Salaphina) It's an awesome RPG Mortal Instruments site and it would be worth your time checking out. You can be pretty much anything you want. (Come on people, we need some more werewolves. So far, I'm the only one!) The URL is: http://shadowhunterrpg[dot]proboards[dot]com/index[dot]cgi
So anyways, on with the story!
Clary awoke the next morning with sore muscles and hopelessly tangled in bed sheets. There was a comfort that lingered in the room that somehow seemed to come from the feeling of cotton pulled taught against skin. She was sure that if she moved, she would ruin the perfect morning so she let herself relax, closing her eyes again and measuring her breathing.
Eventually, Clary decided she had to get up. The antics of last night were still visible in the display of her corset flung carelessly to the floor, in the way her suede boots were propped precariously against the wall, in the way her hair was ruffled in all directions, and lastly in the way the smell of fresh coffee and breakfast sandwiches wafted up from the kitchen. Clary smiled; Jace always cooked the morning after they had their fun.
Slipping on her white silk bathrobe (another profit of her adventure with Magnus) she drifted lightly down into the kitchen where, sure enough, Jace was leaning on the counter with a spatula in hand and whistling a tune she didn't recognize.
"Someone's happy," She announced, coming over to hip-check him lightly. He raised an eyebrow at her in amusement at her futile attempt to knock him over.
"Hmm," He pretended to be very deep in thought for a few moments. "I do ever so wonder why that is. It couldn't possibly be the fact that I'm stunningly attractive, live with the love of my life, and that I just got laid could it?" Clary rolled her eyes at him. Typical Jace.
"So what's the plan for today?" Clary asked after stealing a piece of bacon from the paper plate on the counter. They were holding out on real dishes for a while until they go settled. Paper and plastic was fine with them.
"I think I'm going to do some painting today. I hate the color of the basement." Jace replied. "It looks like recycled baby poop."
"How do you even know what that looks like?" Clary asked in disgust. "You know what, don't answer that. Painting sounds like fun. I'm all for it. But first I have to call Luke and Jocelyn. They'll want to know we're all settled."
"And how, my dear Clarissa, do you plan on doing that without a phone?" Jace quirked an eyebrow.
Clary whipped out a small, square device from her robe pocket. "Cell phone," She snickered, dangling it in front of Jace. He scowled and turned back to his cooking.
Comfortably snuggled into the couch, Clary sifted through the list of names on her contacts list. Finally she found Jocelyn and hit the send button. Only one ring went in before her mother's ecstatic voice appeared on the other end of the line.
"Clary? Is that you?" She sang. Clary resisted the urge to laugh. He mother's eagerness to speak with her was expected and so completely Jocelyn.
"Hey Mom," Clary responded. "We're moved in!"
Jocelyn sighed happily and in relief. "Oh that's wonderful Clary! I'm so happy for you! Does the house need much work?"
"Not too much. We need to paint and the living room couches are still half in the plastic but they're in their right places anyway. Other than that not really. Cleaning; but that's kind of obvious. How's everything going back there?" Clary took a throw pillow and brought it into her lap so she could properly fiddle with the fabric.
"Oh we're all doing fine. We miss you two; things just aren't the same without you or Jace... A sarcastic comment isn't nearly as funny coming out of Luke's mouth compared to Jace's." Jocelyn laughed.
"Oh God," Clary laughed. "I can imagine. Where's Luke anyway?"
"He's with the pack. They got a new member today so he's laying down the law." Jocelyn chuckled.
"Oh... ok. How's Simon? I feel so bad leaving him again after just getting him back."
"Oh he's fine. In fact, he's already got plans to come and visit you in your new home. When it's finished of course," The smile in Jocelyn's voice was evident. "And no doubt we'll tag along. We'll make it a group trip."
"Sounds like fun mom," She started but suddenly heard a crash in the kitchen. She silently cursed, "I have to go Mom. Jace needs me in the kitchen before he sets fire to the house."
"Wait Clary there's something that I wanted to-"
"No time, see you later, love you!" Clary finished her conversation quickly. She wasn't happy about cutting her mother off like that but it was slightly necessary. If she had any indication as to what might be going on in that kitchen, she may not have a house for her mom to come and visit.
When Clary walked back into the kitchen, Jace was still where she had left him. The only difference was that one of the pans was in the sink, still smoking, and there was a tiny dent in the floor. She smiled, shook her head, and took a paper plate out of the cupboard, beginning to make herself a breakfast sandwich. Jace continued to whistle and occasionally bump Clary in the elbow as she tried to spread the Miracle Whip. Eventually he got to her and she dropped the knife on the counter, sending Miracle whip everywhere.
"Nice," Clary muttered. "You're an ass you know that?"
"Why yes, I do have a nice ass. Thanks for noticing." Jace grinned wickedly, Clary just glared.
.
Clary sighed as she collapsed back onto the couch. It had been a long day; she and Jace had spent the entire day painting. Well, Clary had been painting. Jace had been complaining that it was woman's work.
They had managed to get the basement done in a nice light brown that resembled oak and had a color picked out for the bedroom. It was going to be a long time before they were able to even think about other stuff... like a car. They needed a car; badly. Cabs were expensive in Salem and they couldn't walk everywhere... sometimes it was just too far. But that would have to be put on hold until the house was done.
Jace plopped down on the couch next to her, equally exhausted. He could've slept... if it wasn't for the fact that Clary would wake him up and tell him to get back to work.
"God I'm tired," Clary exhaled slowly, letting her head fall on Jace's shoulder. Or not, he thought with a smirk.
"You can't be tired already," He whispered, running his hand around her back and over to her side where he proceeded to glide his palm up her inner thigh. "We haven't even made it to the fun stuff yet..."
"Don't you think we had enough fun last night? I'm beat." Clary complained with a smile. She pulled his hand up to her mouth, kissed each of his fingers, and pushed herself off of the couch. "I just have to run to the grocery store and then I'll be back ok?" Jace groaned, but nodded. He let his head fall back onto the pillow and close his eyes in exhaustion. Clary grinned, shaking her head, some things just didn't change. She turned and walked out the door, continuing to the grocery store around the corner.
Once in the aisle she was looking for, Clary relaxed and tried to take her time. She wasn't going to go on a frozen dinner spree like Jace had suggested they do. She wanted real food; not flash-frozen crap.
There was a wide array of fresh herbs displayed in front of her. She was just going through them and picking out some cilantro when a familiar voice called from across the aisle.
"Clary!" It called. Clary turned to see Jordan, a boy living at the Salem Institute, running towards her. She smiled at him placing the cilantro and another bundle of parsley in her shopping basket.
"Hey Jordan, how are you?" She started walking again, towards the fruits, and Jordan fell into step beside her.
"Good, good; and yourself? You guys all settled in?" Jordan had a mountain of cookies and chips in his cart, most likely he was making a shopping run for the Institute and everyone had, of course, given him specifics.
"We're getting there, slowly, but we're getting there." Clary sighed, examining a bag of apples. "We just finished the basement so we'll be moving on to the bedroom next. We're kinda going out of order but that's alright," Clary laughed. She had wanted to do the living room after the basement but Jace had insisted.
"Fair enough," Jordan agreed. He glanced briefly at the fruit Clary was throwing in her cart with little interest. "The house up for visitors yet?"
"Not even close," Clary responded. She was finished in the fruit and veggie section and was about to move on to the canned goods when she saw the silhouette of a man standing in the far corner of the little store. He had his shoulders hunched, his legs locked into position, his hood up, and his hands in his pockets. Clary stared at the strange man for a long time before she was able to shake herself out of the trance. "Hey Jordan," She looked at him to make sure she had his attention, pointing back to where the man was. "Do you notice anything weird about that guy?"
Jordan squinted over in the direction of her finger for a long minute, twisting his head in different directions. "What guy? I don't see a guy?"
Clary sighed impatiently and turned back to the corner. "Right there..." She trailed. The man was gone. She scrunched her brow. "Uh... never mind I guess." Clary pushed the cart along, still puzzled over the experience she had just been through.
"Alright then," Jordan chuckled. "I gotta go; still about... oh I don't know... fifty or so different brands of food on this list so I better get to it. Maybe I'll drop by at some point when the house is done. Give us a ring and we'll make a party out of it."
"Sure thing," Clary grinned as Jordan scampered off down the chips aisle with his feet on the edge of the cart so he was riding it almost the entire way.
It was a while before she was able to bring herself to leave the store. She was half-hoping she might run into that man again; just to prove that she wasn't losing it. No such luck. She was convinced that she had seen someone...
Deep in thought, Clary was almost completely unaware of her walk home. She would've been totally unaware had it not been for the strange noises coming from the alleyway she was now passing.
Glancing into the darkened depths of the street, she noticed three men standing in the shadows. For a fleeting moment, she thought that one of them might be the man she was thinking about; she was proved later that she was wrong. They were all too short and not one of them had the right build to be the man she saw. Sighing and about to leave, she noticed one of the men pull out a switchblade and start to approach her. She groaned in boredom.
"Hey little lady," He sneered. "Why don't you come on home with us? We got something that'll make you squeal like the puny girl you are."
"I dunno Donnie," A second man laughed. "I doubt her tiny little frame could handle the slammin' we're about to give her."
Clary rolled her eyes. "I wouldn't do that if I were you," She warned in a voice laden with disinterest. A unanimous chuckle resounded through the group and Clary even let a little smirk appear on her own mouth. She slipped her hand into her jacket pocket and stuck three of her fingers out so they protruded from inside the fabric, creating the illusion of a gun.
"Damnit!" The first man swore. "The fucker's got a gun! Let's bail!" The men took off at a run down the street while Clary laughed at their stupidity. She resumed her walking.
.
Once home, she was surprised to find that Jace had already begun painting. His t-shirt was coated with specks of the gold color they had chosen to paint their bedroom. Clary had been set on getting some shade of gold to match Jace's eyes; but she had never told him her reasoning.
She ditched her bags in the kitchen and crept up behind Jace, trailing her index finger down his spine when she was directly behind him.
"Mother eff..." Jace groaned as Clary's fingers worked over the contours of his muscles. "Clary, please don't do this to me when I'm working..."
"Why?" Clary cooed. She ducked under his arm so she was facing him, trapped between his body and the wall and being extremely careful not to get paint on herself. "Having trouble..." She placed a single light kiss on the corner of his jaw. "...Concentrating?"
"Please," Jace scoffed, acting as though he was unaffected by her proximity. "I'm Jace Lightwood, the only way I could lose concentration is if you were topless, dancing around a pole." There was a slight tremor in his voice that only Clary could possibly noticed, giving him away. Clary laughed.
"Well, Jace Lightwood," She pronounced his name carefully, and very drawn out. "I guess there's no reason for me to be up here then," She chuckled at the look of pain on his face that he tried desperately to hide. "I'm gonna go finish unpacking the basement. Good luck," She added as she glanced around the room.
The basement, walls looking fresh and reeking of paint fumes, was filled with half-empty boxes of stuff she rescued from her old house and Luke's apartment. It was a combination of Clary's old artwork and baby stuff. She had no idea what to do with the magnitude of memories that they really had no room for. Maybe she could give them to Jocelyn for safe-keeping...
BANG! Clary nearly jumped out of her skin at the sudden sound. It appeared to come from the far corner of the basement. There was a subtle disruption in the dust, causing it to swirl upwards. Clary furrowed her brow in cautious curiosity. She approached slowly, never tearing her gaze away from her destination.
She tripped over a smaller box but that didn't deter her. The dust had settled again and there was no movement coming from the corner. As she inched closer, she thought she saw a black spot moving just out of her line of sight.
Carefully, she reached out a hand and shoved the box out of the way, just as an object came propelling out from behind it and straight for her head.
She screeched and ducked out of the way as the bird circled the room, cawing and flapping its wings in a frenzy. Clary sighed and shook her head, opening the window wide so the bird could escape. It watched her warily for a while before deciding this wasn't a trap and fluttering rapidly into the sky.
"You're paranoid Clary," She told herself sternly, stacking the boxes in a corner to be dealt with another day. "Get over it."
.
That night, at around three or four o'clock in the morning, Clary awoke for no apparent reason, and that's why she figured that something was wrong. The bedroom was silent, except for Jace's persistent snoring. The door was still wide open (to let the paint fumes out), the window shut. Nothing seemed too out of the ordinary; Clary was about to shake it off as paranoia again when she remembered what had woke her up in the first place.
There had been a knock at the window.
Immediately Clary contemplated the option of a branch swaying in the wind. The one problem with her theory? There were no trees around their house. Perhaps a confused bird had flown into the glass... that was possible. She'd already had one bird that day, why not two?
But there was something in the way the thing had knocked, the way it rapped several times against the window pane instead of just one loud thud, that made her fear it was something worse than a bird. Maybe Jace had been wrong. Maybe Raphael wouldn't give up just because Clary was no longer tied to Simon and maybe that was him outside their window, plotting to take his final revenge.
Somewhere during her thoughts Clary realised that Jace's snore's had stopped and so had his breathing for that matter. He was awake, and tense. Just like her.
She tilted her head to see his face, only to find that he was doing the same. Their eyes connected and they both nodded, silently agreeing to get up.
Clary rolled lithely out from under the duvet (and half of Jace's limbs), slipped over to the dresser, opened the top drawer, and drew out the dagger that she had passed as a letter opener with Kelsey. To her left, Jace was rooting through his own drawer, pulling out a variety of weapons that Clary gaped at for a good minute before he realised she was staring.
"What?" He whispered. "Doesn't hurt to be prepared,"
"There's a difference between prepared and psychotic!" Clary whispered back, closing her drawer and taking a position to the left of the window. Jace took one on the right and they waited for another knock. Almost as if the mysterious figure could read their thoughts, another knock came and Jace pulled the window open, grabbing the figure by the arm and hauling him into the room. Clary only managed to catch a brief glimpse of their intruder before he or she was on the floor in a mad scuffle with Jace.
The sound of clashing metal filled the air as Clary tried to find an opening to help out. The two people were fighting too harshly and vigorously for her to help, for fear of accidentally tackling Jace. Finally, when one figure with golden hair was flung into the wall, leaving an impression in the paint that they would have to re-do, Clary pounced, grabbing the mysterious person by the scruff of their neck and pinning them to the highboy.
Jace picked himself up off the floor and quickly ran to Clary's side. She was gaping openly at the figure, recognizing him immediately.
It was the man from the grocery store.
There was no doubt in her mind that that was who she had pinned. He was wearing the same sweater, he had the same build, and there was the same suspicious air around him that out her off in the first place. Yes, this was the same man. Now what was he doing here?
"Ok, who the hell are you and why the hell are you in our house?" Jace snarled.
The man, hood still drawn around his pale face, smiled. The smile was knowing and sly, not a comforting gesture in the least. When he opened his mouth to respond, Jace's grip tightening around his blade simultaneously, the voice was hideously similar to a man she knew all too well, and a man they had left New York to avoid. The word he uttered confused and scared Clary, causing her shoulders to further stiffen and her grip around his neck to tighten.
"Raphael..." He hissed.
Clary and Jace stared in shock at the man. He looked nothing like Raphael and yet they both bore the same quality that made them so terrifying. It was then that Clary realised what he was, dropping him immediately as the thought struck her.
"Vampire," She growled, taking a step back. Jace didn't make any movement, just stared. Clary could see the surprise on his face and guessed that he was rethinking this move, maybe realising that it was not safer here after all.
"So sorry to scare you," The man apologized, straightening and pulling back his hood. His eyes were a piercing green, almost like cotton candy in their lightness, and his face was smooth like a polished rock. A mess of white-blond hair sat on his head and Clary noted that, had she not known what he was, he might've been very attractive. "But I figured you might not open the door for a vampire after your recent experience." He spoke with eerie fluidity that engulfed the room in a chill.
Jace was still glaring at him, his grip tight around his blade, when Clary finally found her voice. "What are you doing here? What do you want?"
The vampire regarded her with a genuine smile, trying, she supposed, to show that he was friendly. "Terribly sorry, allow me to introduce myself. I am Montrose, call me Monty. I'm sure you've heard of me?" When both nephilim (I probably didn't spell that right) were silent, he continued. "Well, no harm done if you haven't. Obviously you know Raphael and I suppose that's all that matters."
The room was still silent; Clary a safe distance from Monty, Jace ready to strike should this vampire step out of line. Seemingly oblivious to the hostility, Monty continued his speech. "I'm sure you're aware that Raphael was not the true leader of the vampire coven? Well, guess who is!" Monty laughed, a sharp sound that seemed to carry throughout the house. "I'm here on behalf of the entire coven, a spokesperson if you will. I wish to deeply apologize for Raphael's actions."
Clary's shoulders slumped. She had not been expecting that. It was as if the entire world had done a 360 and now she was stuck somewhere in the middle, trying to distinguish between reality and fiction. A vampire was apologizing to her? After all of the torture she had been put through, they thought a simple apology was going to fix all that? She didn't think so.
"You're sorry? You're sorry? Oh, well in that case everything's alright! Maybe we should get together for tea sometime and that will make everything better!" Clary ranted, throwing her blade onto the dresser with such force that she feared it would leave a dent.
Monty regarded her calmly and with slight amusement. "Oh, I know a simple word means next to nothing to you Clarissa, and I am sorry again that I can't do more. But despite what you may think, we vampires are not all bad. We were human once you know, we still feel remorse. And what Raphael did reflects the entirety of us. We wish to offer you our sincerest regrets, and if you ever need anything, be sure to see me." He nodded at Jace, who gave a slight incline of the head back, and approached Clary. "My dear, we cannot give you a year of your life back. I'm aware that you will probably never look at us the same way again, but I do wish you would consider forgiveness. After all, to forgive is divine." He grasped Clary's frozen hand, raised it to his lips, gave it a quick kiss while lingering, ever so slightly, at her wrist with a blackness in his eyes that only a practised person would notice, before dropping it suddenly and retreating towards the window. "Goodnight my friends, if I may indeed call you that, I am sorry I interrupted your morning. I can guarantee this will be the last you see of me or my coven; unless of course you request otherwise." He winked, and with that departing gesture, disappeared into the night.
The room was still for a long while before either Jace or Clary could bring themselves to move.
"Well, that's great." Jace muttered, "I'm living with a vampire magnet. Do you have a sign on you somewhere that only they can see or what?" He dropped his blade back into his drawer while Clary still stood frozen in the middle of the room. "Clary?" He approached her still form quickly, taking her shoulders in his hands. She felt cold to the touch, and her eyes were fixed on a corner of the room. "Clary? What is it? What's wrong?"
Clary's eyes finally focused and she was able to see Jace semi-clearly in the early morning light. "Call Simon," She whispered. Jace looked confused for a long moment until Clary snapped at him: "Now! Call him now Jace!" He looked at her for a second longer before snatching her cell phone off of the dresser and heading into the hallway. "Tell him to get his ass up here ASAP." Clary turned toward the window as Jace dialled, staring into the night as she cradled her wrist, the faintest trickle of blood seeping from the bite mark now appearing on her skin.
Hey you guys, sorry this chapter took so long. I was out with the Swine for a week and then I got the stomach flu two days later. It wasn't pretty. Anyway, I hope it was worth the wait. And btw, if any of you are wondering where I got the name: Montrose (pronounced mon-tr-osse) it was my great grandfather's name. I know right? : P Okays, press that button and leave a review or Monty will come after you! (Woot! Yay for rhyming!)