"Why are you doing this?" Simon bellowed out. His hand was gripped the hilt of the final sword that was sticking out of his abdomen, and Conan could tell that he was struggling with it. He was weak, whether it was from the pain, the blood loss, or the death of his family, he wasn't sure but he could tell that even if Simon got free, he'd be no match for Jonathan, Mark of Cain included. So why he was trying to pull it out was just stupid. "Just let them go! You said you wanted to talk to me. You want me, and I'm here. The kids aren't a part of this!"
"How to do it," Jonathan practically thought out loud. His breath was awful and brushed over Conan's face. "What would be the most painful way to kill you, little puppy?"
The werewolf turned away from the smell after his stomach threatened to let his food back up but it only made the sword cut deeper into his throat. It was getting to be extremely painful. Jonathan pressed so hard that if Conan took too deep of a breath, the sword cut through more skin cells like butter. If he put just a little more pressure, he'd be dead, which might be a better alternative to whatever sadistic ideas were rolling behind Jonathan's dark eyes.
Lilith acted like Jonathan never spoke, which seemed to be happening a lot in that room. Her eyes focused on Simon. She turned away from Michael, not a worry on her face. "Young Daylighter, you'll do as I say whether the children are here or not. You're in no position to talk, negotiate, or even discuss anything other than what I say."
"That's what I told him," Jonathan mumbled but only Conan was the one that caught onto it.
"You're merely here to keep that black witch of yours under control," Lilith instructed.
And that was when Conan witnessed the unraveling of a very angry, very distressed teenage vampire.
"WHAT DID YOU DO TO HER?"
"Nothing yet," Jonathan moved the sword form Conan's throat. He felt a twinge of relief that didn't last long. Jonathan replaced the sword with his hand to cut off the airways as he pointed the sword at Simon. Conan didn't know what was worse, since both were quite painful. "But if you don't listen and do as we say, Leviathan and I will have our way with her and you won't be able to do a thing about it."
"Don't. Fucking. Touch. Isabelle. Or I'll personally suck the life out of you, again. And this time, you'll stay dead even if it kills me too."
Suddenly, Conan was released and he fell to the floor, grabbing at his throat. The spots in his vision had returned while swirls and lines flashed across his eyes. It felt like he was tripping on acid with the colors and images that passed. His body felt ridiculously weak as he used the wall for support. It was like he was just one long, limp noodle. He turned his head slowly, seeing Jonathan standing right in front of Simon, eye to eye, teenager to adult, anger to even angrier.
Jonathan finally spoke after what felt like hours. "Don't try to fucking threaten me Daylighter. That bitch is the reason that my brother was able to kill me. She's ripped my hand off. She deserves everything I'm going to put her through. I can do whatever the hell I want to her, and I'll make you watch. I'll torture her right in front of you as you stand there, hopeless and weak, and you won't be able to do a thing about it as I rip her heart out and–"
Lilith's hand descended over Jonathan's shoulder. If it hadn't been such a… tense situation, it actually would've looked like a mother/son moment. "Jonathan, leave me to deal with them. Emily should be in her room by now, so let's get this started. We still need her to accept or decline the proposition before we proceed."
Emily. Conan saw Michael twitch out of the corner of his eye and used all his effort to look at the blonde boy. His green/gold eyes were looking at Conan as the same thoughts passed through each other's head.
Shit. Dammit. Emily. Jonathan. Shit. Proposition. Hell. Dammit. Dammit. Dammit.
"What of the others?" Jonathan's tone was no longer angry, but his body still screamed of it as he still glared at Simon.
"There's only so many of us and dealing with all of them will take up too much time. We need to contain them while you and I deal with our priorities."
Lilith didn't answer, and just as she was about to bark out more orders, another someone – or something – came through the open door that Conan wished he could escape through. Why didn't Michael just grab Karrie and run? Why did Conan ever think it was a good idea to invite the one guy that hadn't dealt with violence? Bat was a logical choice, but those other three… Conan should've left them at home.
But he couldn't do a thing about it now. Not only was he stuck in a room with Jonathan and Lilith, a room that only had one entrance and exit, he was now in the presence of one of the most powerful demons that he could possibly imagine.
Leviathan.
His thoughts reeled back to one of his conversations with Emily yesterday, one that he would keep with him for the rest of his life. Which sadly, didn't look like it would be long:
"I'm scared, Conan," Emily had said. Conan could hear the fear in her voice as he stood by the stove, pushing green beans and potatoes around in a pot. "What if I can't do it?"
"Why are you so frightened?"
"It's Leviathan. Between my father, Chase, and that infernal book that my dad has me reading, it's like fighting Raziel. There's no way I can win."
"What makes you think that you're weaker than he is or that he's stronger than you?" Conan asked, switching the phone to his other ear as he switched the phone off. He didn't get an answer and sighed, leaning against the kitchen counter. "Emily, I believe in you. As much as I hate to say it, I know that Chase believes in you, and your father has enough faith in you for the rest of the world. I get why you're worried, but you're going to worry yourself into a coma if you keep this up."
"You do realize who you're talking to right?" Conan nodded, although she couldn't see him, and she continued anyway. "Conan, I can't think of this in a positive way. My mind refuses to believe that I even have a chance. It's physically impossible and all I can think about is the consequences if this goes badly."
Conan stopped everything he was doing at that moment. He gave her his full attention as he closed his eyes, focusing on the words he was about to tell her.
His voice dropped to a soft, caring tone as he spoke. "Emily, I've known you since you were born. We grew up together. We fought together. We trained together. I know what you're capable of. I know what you can do, how you can fight, and I know that no one can stand in your way when you're fighting for what you care about."
"I know that I'm fighting for everyone, but honestly, it's not helping. It just adds to the pressure that I'm the only one who can handle him."
He swore that he heard her voice crack, even a little bit, and it damn near broke his heart. The picture of her jumped into his mind almost against his will. Right now, late at night, she'd be perched up on her window, phone to her ear, dressed in her night clothes with a tear running down her cheek.
His hand came up, gripping at his shirt that covered his heart as if he could stop the pain. All he wanted to do was be there for her. But he couldn't. He couldn't go back there knowing Chase was there, knowing Chase was the one that would be comforting her tonight. It wasn't his job to hold Emily anymore, even if that's all he ever wanted out of life.
"Emily, coming from someone who's seen every side of you, I want you to know that I love you, and I know what you can do when you set your heart to it." She started to protest, but he cut her off. "Don't think about anything when you see him. Don't think about me, Chase, your family, your friends, nothing. Let your mind go, and focus at the task at hand. Focus on how to move, how to strike, and how to kill him. Nothing else. Do you understand that?"
"You mean, let it all go?"
He nodded. "Let us all go."
If only he had the ability to take his own advice now. But looking at Leviathan made him think of his family and how he just hoped that he'd see them again. Not as they were now: unconscious bodies lying on beds, but as the caring parents that taught him how to live and survive. That taught him how to fight, to stand his ground.
But, despite Leviathan's size, an enormous amount of fear settled over him.
"What the hell happened to you?"
Jonathan's question made Conan finally focused, the dots and lines of his vision gone, and he smiled at the state Leviathan was in.
It looked like he was attacked by a rabid animal. His nasty, rough, black skin was slashed across the front, three slashes total going different directions. One of his ears was... missing? And he gripped a seraph blade in his right hand like his life depended upon it. But his face said it all. It was more than angry. More than annoyed. More than frustrated. He looked like he was an atomic bomb ready to explode.
Just what Conan needed to deal with. Awesome.
"Jace happened," Leviathan answered and he dropped the seraph blade to the floor. "You have no idea how bad I wanted to rip his pretty little head off and feed it to some dogs."
Jonathan straightened up for a moment, quiet and staring at Leviathan. "You didn't dare touch him." It wasn't so much of a question or statement as it was a threat.
"I didn't touch your precious little toy. He's healthy enough, hanging in the dungeon along with the other three."
Conan didn't even want to try to think about who the other three could be. Thinking like that only made the situation even worse.
"There should be four," Lilith said as she slowly walked towards Leviathan. "Who is missing?"
Like a child who got caught stealing, Leviathan shied away with a step backwards towards the hallway. "Well, Magnus saw Agramon outside of the Institute when I took Jocelyn. It was easily enough to grab the red head and the other Lightwood, but that blasted warlock wouldn't come out. Agramon is dealing with him now. You know how he is when it comes to Magnus. Revenge is something he's craved for centuries."
"He'll kill him," Jonathan chimed in. "And he wouldn't even hesitate. It's not that big of a deal, since the warlock isn't a big part of this. Agramonnever got the chance when my father was alive, so he's taking it now."
And as the trio went into a discussion about Magnus, Alec, and Agramon, Conan slowly looked around the room, wondering how the hell he could get out of this situation and save as many people as he could. But it wasn't looking too good.
Karrie had stopped crying, and was now leaning over Kadan as she gripped at his gear. Their foreheads pressed together, black hair intertwining. Michael had finally come to his senses and was kneeling beside her, glancing back every once in a while at the demon trio. Conan prayed that Lilith had forgotten about the whole 'pick who gets to die' thing that she mentioned earlier. Death wasn't something he was looking forward right now.
And so with Bat on the floor, bleeding away, Simon still chained to the wall and looking too weak to even detach himself, and the other werewolves and lone ex-Shadowhunter Alec on the beds in their current state, Conan knew that there was no way out. He was a pawn in Lilith's game of chess. He was just waiting for the time that she was going to sacrifice him for the biggest picture.
" – and what of Emily? Has she made the decision?"
Conan snapped his head back to the demon trio. He watched as Lilith sighed, scratching the back of her scarily too-human hand that was paler than it should've been.
"It hasn't been offered yet. Jonathan, just go prepare her and then bring her to the dungeon if all goes well. I'll meet you down there. And Leviathan, you know what to do. Bring Simon down when you're done. We still need him to keep the girls under control."
And with that, the two of them left, leaving the good guys with the very terrifying and short Leviathan. Jonathan bent down, grabbing the stele that Leviathan had dropped before heading out the door.
Leviathan let them slip by before reaching for the large metal door and slamming it shut, locking it into place. One second his hands were on the door, and the next thing Conan knew he was flying through the air, crashing in the wall adjacent to the one that held Simon and the one that the beds were lined between.
Pain shot through him back, all the way down to his toes as his body made impact with the wall and then the floor. He wasn't there long enough to comprehend what happened, or make sense of the yelling that was coming from Simon, before Conan was once again thrown across the room like a Barbie doll. This time, his back collided with the wall just next to Simon, his head hitting the vertical concrete and his vision going completely black.
He couldn't see a thing, and his body folded in on itself in pain, waiting for the next hit, but it never came. There was only silence, a noise that sounded like rushing water, and then silence again.
So Conan opened his eyes, fighting through the pain that willed him to just let go, pass out and wait for a death that would be slow and agonizing. His eyes settled on a figure as a portal faded behind him, a blurry figure but recognizable, just in front of the door.
Magnus.
Leviathan laughed from somewhere in the room, the sound making Conan shiver with… a lot of emotions that weren't exactly healthy.
"Warlock, I see you dealt with Agramon easily enough."
Magnus's hands suddenly sparked to a green color, and his eyes were completely focused on Leviathan. "And you're next."
And that was the last thing Conan heard before his eyes closed and he drifted away.
Emily paced back and forth, not sure what she should be thinking. She wanted to get out of there, to help with whatever the hell could be going on outside of her personal cage. All kinds of crap could be going down, and she just felt like a cow waiting for slaughter. But what could she do? Honestly, she was completely screwed. The window was sealed. Her stele was gone. Her weapons were taken. Her body was weak and not healing as fast as she'd liked. Was there anything she could do other than wait for Agramon to get there?
She shivered at the thought of it, and glanced back at the words above the bed. Jonathan. It was signed by her uncle, and the thought made her sick. But that wasn't possible. Jonathan wasn't real! He was dead. Her parents made sure of that. But the more she thought about it as the time passed, that idea started to have less truth to it. After her seventeen years of living, one thing was for sure:
Anything can happen in the Shadowhunting world.
Maybe he really was back, back for revenge. She wouldn't put it past Lilith to find a way to bring him back. And even though she hated the idea, her parents weren't exactly all powerful. They couldn't prevent everything. They were strong, but they weren't true, all-powerful, deadly angels.
All she wanted was to be in her father's arms right now, even if that was the last thing she did. She just wanted to feel like when she was a child, how he would hold her and make jokes to calm her nerves and keep her from crying. It was the same thing he did with her mother, and it was Jace's talent to sooth women, any kind of women. And she really just needed him to kiss her hair and tell her that everything was going to be okay.
But even though her father was all she wanted, his evil, psychotic, manipulative, insane, adopted brother walked through the door instead.
Jonathan was exactly how she pictured him, only worse. He looked older, much older than she remembered from what Agramon had changed into him last time. He was dressed in gear like she was, a seraph blade in his hand. Emily's eyes widened when she saw it, because she'd know that blade anywhere. It was her father's blade. The one that he always used. He considered it lucky, and never let it out of his sight for the past five years.
And now Jonathan had it. He closed the door behind him, shutting it with a click and pulled out a stele to place a locking rune at the top. Emily stayed on the bed, practically frozen and unable to move as she watched him without a word. It was him. It was really him. The fearless run on the back of her shoulder wasn't burning, meaning Agramon was nowhere around, and that only left one explanation.
Things were actually way worse than Chase ever let on about.
"Glad I finally get to meet my favorite niece," Jonathan said with a smile as he turned, twisting the blade in his fingers. His eyes made a shiver run down Emily's spine and she crawled backwards as far as she could. Eventually, the wall with the words behind her pressed against her shoulder blades, and she was trapped.
Jonathan noticed her reluctance towards him, and he took a step forward, slowly and quietly, one after another until he was standing in front of the bed, looking down at her.
"Where's my father?" she demanded. Her voice was strong and steady, something she was far from feeling on the inside.
He shrugged, looking down at the stele. "I haven't killed him yet, so don't get your panties in a twist."
"I want to see him."
"Well, I don't give a shit about what you want." His anger came through, and Emily cowered back a bit into the wall. "I've been caused too much trouble today for my liking, and it's starting to really get on my nerves little Shadowhunter. Between your little werewolf, that fucking Daylighter, and you're damned parents, I'm too angry to talk any sense to, and if you keep demanding, I will personally bring your dead body to your father's feet. I don't care what my mother wants."
Emily's mind raced at his words, trying to make sense of them. Little werewolf? Conan? What the hell does he have to do with this? Had he already seen Jonathan? Is he here in the hospital? Has he lost his mind?
The feeling of anger and fear settled in her stomach, thinking of all the possibilities that came out of a confrontation between the two. She gripped at her gear on her abdomen, trying to stop the nausea.
"They're all alive," Jonathan said suddenly. He cocked his head to the side, much like her father always did when he was trying to read people. The fact that the two of them had things in common was unsettling. "At least, they were when I left the room. Leviathan is probably handling them right now. Although Alec is struggling a bit and they're might have been a few casualties before I got out of there."
"If you hurt any of them–"
"What are you going to do?" he shot back. "You're stuck here, with me, with no way out of here. And believe it or not, I'm not supposed to hurt you."
If this was a cartoon, her jaw would've dropped to the floor. But she just stared at him, gripping her gear and biting her lip to stop herself from attempting to murder her biological uncle. "I don't care if you want to use me, hurt me, or whatever. If you don't let my friends and family go, I promise you that I will personally rip your head off before I die. I'll watch that light fade from your eyes, and my face will be the last one you see before sent into personal damnation, understand? Now take me to see my father if you want to live through this moment."
Where the hell did that come from? Emily mentally asked herself. She had never spoken like that in her life, but she enjoyed every second of the threat. And it was true. She'd like nothing more than to kill Jonathan right now, to go back to how things were before he felt the need to interfere. He deserved everything she was going to do to him. Everything.
Her confidence fell when a smile full of knowing and confirmation appeared on his lips. "That's what I like to hear. You and I are more alike than you think Emily."
"I am nothing like you."
He laughed. He threw his head back and the sound pierced Emily's ears like nothing she ever heard before. "You're stubborn, just like your parents. That little soliloquy was something I would say, little one. And whether you like it or not, you're just as messed up as I am."
She didn't want to hear this. She couldn't. "What do you want from me?"
Jonathan stood straight, pulling the stele back out and looping the seraph blade through his belt. Emily itched to grab it and shove it through his heart, and she could slowly feel her strength coming back. It was gradual, getting stronger and quicker as the time passed. She had to stall, had to hold out long enough until she felt that she could kill him, beat him. And she prayed to Raziel that she wasn't making a huge mistake.
"Follow in the footsteps of your boyfriend," he smiled. "Chase had taken Lilith's mark without resistance. All you need to do is take it as well, and everyone but your parents goes free."
That wasn't exactly a good deal. "Lilith's mark?"
"It's a mark that embodies your heart and soul and gives Lilith full power over it. It's not as bad as it sounds. Chase and Gemma are both ours, but we need a third to complete a very much needed triangle."
Emily pulled her legs up to her chest, wrapping her arms around them. She probably looked like a child, but couldn't help it. Chase had accepted it? Chase was no longer… Chase? He was just a pawn in Lilith's hands. Why would he do that after all the training they'd gone through. She thought that he was on their side! And although it explains why he was so confused about Gemma, about why she was acting like that, it still didn't make sense for him to take it!
Her father's face flashed in her mind. It was moment from years ago, when he was first telling her about Lilith, Jonathan, and the fight that they all went through. Jace had gone through it, had Lilith's mark influence him, and he described it with one word:
Excruciating.
"I'd never do that," Emily said with conviction.
Jonathan shook his head. "You're making a mistake. You realize that Lilith has instructed me to kill you if you don't accept it, and it would be such a waste to do so. Are you really ready to die? To lose everything because you're too stubborn to take what's best for you?"
A wave of emotions flooded over Emily, most of which she didn't exactly recognize. "You don't give a damn about what's best for me! My father told me all about you. You care about yourself, about killing Shadowhunters, and about watching life bleed out of the eyes of the innocent. Even if I took the mark, you'd still kill me when I was no longer useful to you. And I'm not going down without a fight."
That's when the emotions got too much, clouding over Emily's thinking processes and she lunged. Her body moved faster than she or Jonathan expected, and she tackled him, her shoulder digging into his abdomen as he stumbled backwards, lost his footing, and fell to the floor with Emily on top of him.
Somehow, he dropped the stele and it fell to the floor at the foot of the bed. Emily wished she had it in her hand. She needed runes, needed some strength even if it was quickly coming back to her. The problem was it wasn't exactly coming back fast enough!
Jonathan's strength was too much for her, and he was able to lift her and roll, pinning her between the floor and the knee that he placed on her chest, pressing down on her abdomen. Her breathing faltered as her lungs were squished, and she fought to stay focused on the figure that slowly, with a sadistic smile spreading across his face, pulled out the seraph blade. Her father's blade.
Jonathan twisted the blade in his hands once, looking down at Emily with a fire in his eyes. "Just remember, you made this choice."
REVIEW! This is the big moment! It's coming up soon. It'll take some time to write, because I want the next few chapters to be perfect! But in the meantime, let me know what you guys think because I really appreciate the opinions! Thanks! Stay tuned :)