Hello again and I apologize for the wait. Hopefully the chapter's worth it.
Big thanks to Shauna Kullden, who beta'd this, and to all of you lovely people who stick with this story. You're all amazing :)
Answers for:
Snowflake: The story I mentioned is called When the darkness comes, but it's a Jace/OC story, so I'm not sure if it'd be to your taste. But even if you decide to give it a go, I'd urge to wait until I find the time to edit it, because, I admit it, the grammar is just terrible (it was an early story of mine, when I had less experience writing in English, that's all I've got to say in my defence).
JasmineHerondale: Here's the update, thank you for your (quite ecstatic) review :)
I hope you'll like the chapter :)
"Jace! Jace!"
My return to consciousness is far more abrupt and painful than I'd like. The pain in my head pulsates like a second, far more uncomfortable heartbeat, in complete disaccord with my real one. I feel someone's hands pressed against my chest, shaking me as the voice keeps calling my name.
The second I open my eyes, another wave of pain hits me like a lightning bolt, black spots dancing in my line of vision. I let out a hiss and raise a hand to my head, feeling as though my brain is trying to push its way out of my skull. My eyes close instinctively and I enjoy a few moments of blessed darkness before something – someone – falls onto me, a pair of hands crawling beneath me as if they are trying to hug me.
"Thank the Angel." Her breath tickles the skin on my neck, but I find the feeling quite pleasant. Her body is warm against mine, her voice filled with relief and care, even if the contents of her words are nothing of the sort. "You big idiot."
Slowly and carefully this time, I try to open my eyes again. The line of light spreads gradually, before my vision finally clears and the space around me turns into a sight more solid than a bunch of blurry outlines. I lie on a bed – not the most comfortable one I've ever lain in – but it's better than floor, I guess. My surroundings don't seem familiar, neither the lights on the ceiling nor the smell of the room, but at least there's no pain. Small mercies.
"You're fine." Her voice whispers breathlessly again, as if she can't quite believe it yet. "You're alive."
Only then do I notice a cluster of black hair resting on my left, next to my cheek and the realization makes my heartbeat speed up to the light-speed. Jamie is lying on top of me like it's the most natural thing in the world, each of her forearms resting against one side of my body, as she can't properly hug me in our current position. She breathes deeply, as if trying to memorize my scent, her fingers trembling against my ribs.
If it was anyone else in question and I was this tired, I would never force my exhausted body to move. I would let it rest until it heals, my desires be damned.
My arms, heavy as if made of lead, snatch what little strength I have left and wrap around Jamie's back, pressing her closer against me. She doesn't resist – she even follows their lead, her cheek rubbing against my chest as if she's looking for a pulse. The scent of her invades my nostrils, overwhelming as it is pleasant – I bury my face into her hair, breathing in deeply as if I have never truly breathed before. Our bodies line up perfectly against one another – I can't help myself but think we might merge into one if we get one bit closer.
"You're fine." She repeats, her arms holding me so tightly as if she will never let me go again. "You're alive."
It takes a moment for me to realize what she's talking about, but then I remember going to Clary's house with Alec and Izzy to get the card and running into that demon in disguise. But the rest is in the dark – I must have been knocked out sometime during the fight.
"Did you really think you'd get rid of me that easily?" I let a teasing smile spread across my face, even if she can't see it.
"I'd kill you myself for the scare you gave me, but that would defeat the purpose." She says though a sound that sounds like a choked giggle – until I realize she's actually crying.
For a moment, everything freezes, every thought, every heartbeat echoing. Then I move my hand from her back and cup her chin, raising her face towards mine. There is no sign of water on her cheeks, but her blue eyes are not dry. The sight knocks the breath out of my chest, because once, a long time ago, I swore that I would never, ever be the reason for her tears again.
"Jamie." I can barely keep my voice calm. I can barely bear the thought of having made her hurt again. "You're not going to cry because of me."
"Watch me." She counters sarcastically, but raises a hand and rubs her eyes clean of tears.
When our eyes meet again, there is a smile playing on her lips, filled with a mix of relief and anxiety that still hasn't left her features. Catching me by surprise, the same hand that wiped away her tears now reaches for my hand and presses it against her cheek. Her fingers intertwine with mine easily as breathing and she closes her eyes, as if savouring the feeling of my skin against hers.
"I'm just glad you're alright." She murmurs so softly I barely catch it. "I thought…"
"Let him stand up, Jacqueline."
As one, both Jamie and I freeze as if we were turned into stone. I can feel my heart pounding painfully hard against my temples, giving me a headache. My stiffened arms fall off Jamie, who slowly moves away from me, but keeps her hands on mine. With her help, I climb into a sitting position, leaning on her shoulder for support. She keeps her eyes on me, but I can't bring myself to look at her, my gaze and every thought completely captured by the man standing on the other side of the room.
For a moment, I'm sure my eyes are playing a prank on me. Either that or I'm dreaming (still not an excluded option, taking everything that's happened since I woke up into account). Or I'm simply facing a man who looks exactly like my dead father, to the tiniest details, as if he were his twin brother.
But my father had – has – no twin brother.
It's Michael Wayland who's standing in front of me, very much alive, looking every bit as emotionless and detached as I remember him. His face bears more lines than in my memory, but his black eyes are still cold and timeless, the perfect contrast to his white hair and pale complex. I remember trying to imagine Raziel's appearance as a child; the Angel always bore quite a resemblance to my father in my mind – detached and unearthly.
"Jonathan." He nods his greeting, as if his appearance here is nothing out of the ordinary.
Millions of questions cross my mind right that instant.
How is he here? How did he survive? If he isn't dead, then what did I really see that day? If he was alive all this time, why didn't he come for me? Why isn't he explaining all of this to me? Why is he just staring soundlessly at me, as if by saying my name, he's answered all of my questions? Is it possible that, after all these years, that's the only thing he's got to say to me?
"Why does he call you 'Jonathan'?" Jamie whispers next to me, but her words barely reach me. "Do you know him?"
He's my father. I wish I could voice those words, but my lips refuse to shape them. I let out a breath I didn't even realize I was holding as disbelief tightens its hold over me even more. How can he be here? I know what I saw seven years ago. He was dead. There was blood, so much of it, wherever I looked. He couldn't have survived. If he had, he would have come for me a long time ago.
Wouldn't he?
"I imagine you must have a lot of questions, Jonathan." My father – How can it be? – says impassively, making a step closer to us. His black eyes are focused on me, as if we were alone in the room, but they give nothing away.
"How…" I finally let out a sound as my curiosity overpowers bewilderment, but I can't even manage a coherent sentence. "How… I… I saw you die…"
"You thought you saw me die." He replies in a lecturing tone, the one I remember him using whenever I gave the wrong answer. A memory flickers though my mind – the sound of a neck being snapped – and I swallow hard, my breath burning my throat. "But as you can see, I'm alive."
"Jace, what's going on?" Jamie's voice finally manages to break through the mist of bafflement and anxiety that surrounds me. Her eyes are wide with fear and misunderstanding, desperate for me to comfort her. Her voice shakes as she speaks, as do her hands on mine. "How do you know Valentine?"
Valentine? My eyes flick back to my father. He was killed… No, he was almost killed on Valentine's orders. The man before us can't be Valentine. What is Jamie talking about? She has never even seen Valentine. I, on the other hand, know Michael Wayland's face. I know the man before us is my father.
"He knows me as Michael Wayland." Black eyes leave mine and focus on Jamie. He addresses her casually, as if they are old acquaintances. My hold on Jamie's hands tightens and I can't make it relax. "It was my alias after the Uprising."
Alias? So, what he means to say is that…
"No." I shake my head, refusing to believe what I'm hearing. "I'm a Wayland. I…" I swallow a lump down my throat as my mind wildly searches for an undeniable proof – and somehow finds one. I stretch my shaking hand out towards Valentine, as if the ring on my finger can shove him and his words away. "I've got the family ring. I'm not a…"
"Morgenstern?" My father – Valentine – no, they can't be one and the same – says mockingly, a knowing smirk curling his lip. "Have you ever looked at that ring, Jonathan? Truly looked at it?"
My gaze is instantly driven to the ring, as if bound by his words.
A breath of relief escapes me when I realize it's the same as ever. Big 'W' that stands for Wayland and a star above it.
My breath catches in my throat and I feel I'm going to choke on it. No… not above. Below.
No… No… It can't-it can't be…
Filled with absolute horror, I watch, as though through a dreamy haze, as my other hand takes the ring off my finger, turns it around and then places it back on it. I want to look away, I want to deny the whole thing, but my body acts like it has a will of its own and all I can do is stare helplessly at the ring, the weight of realization paralyzing me. Every breath that leaves my lungs feels like a punch in the stomach – and I can do nothing to shield myself from the truth.
The ring now has an 'M' on it, with a star under it looking as if it's falling.
Morgenstern. Morning star. The fallen one.
I'm not a Wayland. I'm a… I'm a Morgenstern. Valentine Morgenstern's son.
"Jace?"
I don't even know where I find the strength to look at Jamie. Maybe it's the only bit of hope I have left. Maybe I just want – need – to hear she won't abandon me or resent me because of the lie I've unconsciously been telling her since the day we met. Maybe she's the only thing about me I can be certain it's real and I can hold on to. Maybe because I need to know that not everything I've known is a lie.
Her hand reaches for mine, the ring on my hand soon finding itself between her thumb and forefinger. She studies it intently for a few moments before her blue eyes rise to mine, her hand leaving the ring to curl reassuringly around my fingers as if the ring and the truth it symbolizes don't even matter.
"Jamie, I…" I don't even know what I'm trying to say – what I can say – but a gentle, but firm squeeze of her hand stops the words from coming out of my mouth.
"Do you believe me now?"
It takes less than a heartbeat for me to fix my gaze on my… – Valentine – again. He looks as calm as ever, seemingly not at all concerned whether I'll believe him or not. Perhaps he already knows what I'll do. It's not unlike my father to know everything.
What I know is that I don't want to believe this. I don't want this. I don't want to be seen as the son of the man the entire Shadow world hates. Son of the man whom the Clave will hunt mercilessly, once they learn he is alive. Son of the man who's done so many horrible things.
Or maybe – just maybe – there is a small part of me that does want this. Maybe that boy who still mourns his father, who still misses him, who cherishes every memory with him, is ready to embrace him as if he never left, as if he never carried another name, despite all that he's done. Maybe there is a part of me that is just happy to see my father alive and well, even if I shouldn't feel this way.
He abandoned me. And then he came back. Which one should I forgive and forget?
"Why tell me this?" After all these years? "Why now?"
Valentine's expression gives nothing away. If there is regret, or sadness, or simply love for me, hidden somewhere behind those bottomless black eyes, I don't see it.
After all these years, it shouldn't pain me. It shouldn't make me feel tears forming in the corners of my eyes.
Yet it does.
"I won't insult your intelligence by lying to you, Jonathan." His gaze is as piercing and sharp as a blade. "I need the Cup."
His directness catches me off guard – and stings deeply. So, he only came back for the Cup? And I am nothing more than a tool to get it?
"I knew you were safe and taken care of with the Lightwoods." His voice softens the tinniest bit – that slightest change feeling like a knife cutting me down to the bone. I could swear his eyes lost some of their fierceness for a moment as well – I doubt anyone but me could tell the difference. "Hodge kept me informed of your well-being."
Hodge? I notice Jamie's face fill with lines as she frowns, but she doesn't say a word.
"You would never have been safe with me." Valentine continues in the same tone; I blink the momentary confusion away and look at him again. His gaze doesn't stray from mine even for the briefest of moments. "But you're not a child anymore."
It takes a few moments for his words to sink in, but once they do, I can't shake off their implications. He's offering me to join him, to fight at his side. He thinks me strong enough – and deep down, beneath dozen layers of hurt, confusion and bewilderment, I'm honoured that he thinks so. As a child, all I ever wanted was to be worthy of him, to be a man he would be proud to call his son – and I've been given a chance I never thought I'd get. I could prove myself to him. I could prove I became the warrior he'd raised me to be. I could…
Wait, what am I thinking? I can't fight on Valentine's side. Even if he is my father, he's… he's an enemy of the Clave. He wants to wage war on Downworlders, on demons, on everyone who stands in his way.
My eyes meet Jamie's. One look is all it takes.
No, I can't. I can't risk losing her, or Alec, or Isabelle. They will stand against my father – and I can't turn my back on them, not even for him. They accepted me when he left me; they love me more than anyone, including him, as I do them.
"I'm sorry, Father." My eyes return to Valentine's. I struggle not to look away, refusing to bend to that intimidating black gaze. "But I can't fight with you."
For a moment, Valentine's mask breaks; he actually looks disappointed. But he's quick to hide his sentiments, his expression turning as unreadable as before.
"And what if…" He comes closer still; I jump onto my feet, positioning myself between him and Jamie. I feel her standing up behind me, her shoulder brushing against my shoulder blades.
Valentine stops barely a step away from me, but his stare passes through me as if I were invisible. His eyes are fixed on something behind my back, a ghost of a smirk playing in the corner of his lips.
"What if…" For a moment, I wonder if he's still speaking to me, "The girl you're clearly in love with fought on my side, Jonathan? Would you fight alongside me then?"
His gaze meets mine; I'm too stunned to say anything. Did he just blurt out my most guarded secret in front of Jamie? How did he even know?
"Don't look so shocked." Again, it's hard to tell whom my father is talking to. I can't bring myself to look at Jamie, too afraid of what I might find. "It was easy to see your feelings for Jacqueline reach beyond friendship. How Hodge missed it is completely beyond me."
"Jace?" A quivering whisper reaches my ears. "What's he talking about?"
Valentine's lips curl into a real, open smirk. It's the closest thing to a smile I've ever seen on his stone face. It makes blood freeze in my veins.
"Let me guess, Jacqueline." Hearing him use Jamie's full name again sends shivers down my spine. My skin fills with gooseflesh when I realize she's so terrified that she has no intention of stopping him. "You two were best friends for years, ever since Jonathan had come to the Institute. You thought everything was perfect, until one day, out of nowhere, he chose your brother as his parabatai."
Stunned silence is the only answer he gets, from both of us.
"You couldn't understand what you'd done wrong." Valentine continues mercilessly, stepping away from us, all the while talking to Jamie as if I'm not even here. "You even must have thought he'd ask you to be his parabatai, or you intended to ask him. Why not? He was closer to you even than your own flesh and blood."
It was Hodge, it was Hodge, he told him everything. The thought sounds less and less convincing the more I repeat it. It doesn't explain how Valentine knows of my feelings for Jamie. It doesn't explain how he knows of the words only Jamie and I witnessed to.
"Don't you see it?" Valentine raises his eyebrows mockingly. It's no surprise he finds my feelings for Jamie pathetic, or her ignorance of them even more. "He tied himself to your brother, so he would never have to be bound to you."
He finally looks at me again; I know the shock on my face confirms his every word. "At last, there's only one thing parabatai must never do."
I literally choke on words not said. I can feel them forming on my tongue, but I can't utter a single syllable. My heart thunders in my chest and my hands shiver with the mere force of it. Silence stretches endlessly, each second as long as a lifetime.
"Jace didn't choose Alec because he didn't want to be my parabatai. He chose him because they care for each other."
It's the first words I hear Jamie say to Valentine. They sound so unlike her, quiet and cautious, that for a moment I can't say whether they are real or just in my head. But then I feel a hand landing gently on my shoulder; it shivers slightly, but doesn't give in to fear Jamie is undoubtedly filled with.
Valentine's thin white eyebrows rise again, this time in surprise, decorating his forehead with wrinkles. He clearly underestimated the strength of our friendship – and deep down I can almost feel myself gloating. The bond Jamie and I share is not easily destroyed, not even by romantic feelings. He'll have to do better than that to undermine it.
Unfortunately, his astonishment lasts only for a few moments, before indifference masks his emotions again. Every bit of relief I felt evaporates immediately and I bite my lip in expectation of his next attack, which comes all too soon, but not in a way I expected.
"Again, I applaud you on your loyalty, Jacqueline." He says with a strange note in his voice I can't define, but don't really want to dwell on either way.
"It's Jamie." I cut in sharply, Valentine's eyes flickering to mine. "Don't call her 'Jacqueline'."
"It is her name." He counters evenly.
I wish I could be as indifferent as he is, but my hands clench into fists, nails running into my palms.
"She hates it."
Black eyes return to Jamie again. Her grip on my shoulder tightens to the point of pain.
"She's not once complained when I used it." Valentine's words hold many implications, but his gaze is cold and calculating, as if he's observing an experiment. When his eyes return to me again, they are narrowed in what I could almost call curiosity. "What is she so afraid of, Jonathan?"
My breath is caught in my throat again, my body petrified in absolute shock. How does he know all these things about us? How does he know things only Jamie and I know, when he hasn't seen me in years and he never actually met her until tonight?
"Nothing." I snap back angrily. Not only he intrudes on things that are none of his concern, but he's also implying Jamie is weak. I know his view on cowards and weaklings – I won't let him look at her that way.
"She's afraid of something." Valentine's gaze focuses on Jamie again, his tone clearly giving away he'll allow no discussion on the matter. He knows she's afraid – the Angel only knows how. "I was nothing but a fairytale to you a few days ago. She couldn't be that scared of me."
Something snaps within me. I feel rage rising again, but strangely so, it's not directed at my father. It all sounds so easy and logical in his words – how did no-one else see it? Alec, Isabelle, Hodge, Maryse, Robert? How have they been missing for years what my father picked up on in a matter of minutes? Do they care so little for Jamie?
"Why do you care?" Jamie forces the words out through her teeth. Her words are not angry, merely terrified. She doesn't hold her family's ignorance against them, she's never had.
But I do. I can't – I won't – help it. They should know her better.
"Because I could help you."
That catches me completely off guard. Altruism is not a trait I remember my father having.
"Why?" The word bursts out of me before I can stop it. At the same time, Jamie's question reaches my ears and I can scarcely believe she's actually asking it: "How?"
Valentine's gaze remains fixed on her, his features so still and cold I wonder if he's even breathing.
"Every fear can be broken." He says calmly. "I could teach you to control your fear, instead of it controlling you."
"Why?" I repeat loudly; with my father, nothing comes without a price. No matter how much I want Jamie free of her greatest fear, I can't let her get herself into a deal she won't be able to break out of.
But when Valentine looks at me again, I have a feeling I'm the one about to make the deal with the devil. Valentine is not after Jamie; she means nothing to him. But she means a hell lot to me – and he knows it.
"Because the only thing standing between me and my son is her." His eyes are cold, but not dishonest. He truly means every word. "You're afraid of what she would think if you joined me. That's your only reason for refusing me."
I open my mouth to deny it, but he raises his hand and I fall silent before I even spoke.
"Do not lie to me, Jonathan." He brushes off my unsaid protests easily as a wave of hand. "I tried my best to keep you from making the same mistake I'd made, but it seems my efforts were in vain."
To love is to destroy. He might as well have said it out loud.
"You won't kill her." I make a step towards him, reaching into my gear for a seraph blade. All I find is empty sheaths – I must have lost all my blades in the battle against that bloody demon, or Valentine took them away while I was unconscious. Still, I won't let him anywhere near Jamie. I'll fight him with bare hands if I must, to the death if that's what it takes to protect her.
Once again (I've long lost count of how many times it's happened today), I'm completely taken aback.
"Of course I won't kill her." Valentine says solemnly, his eyes back on Jamie. "She matters to you. As much as I would love it, that can't be changed."
I lower down my hands, absolutely at loss about what to do or say. I can't even begin to understand what he's planning to do with us. But whatever he does, Jamie must remain unharmed, whatever it takes.
"What will you do then?" I ask after a few long moments of silence, feeling my muscles tense again. If we're forced to run, I've got to be ready.
Instead of answering, Valentine reaches for something into the pocket of his jacket. When he pulls the thin, square object into the light, I realize what it is. It's the card. The card with the Cup on it.
"I won't do anything." He throws me the card; I have to make a step forward to catch it.
When the card is safe in my hands, I scan it quickly, but I don't find any signs of it being fake. I look at Valentine again, an unpleasant feeling settling in my stomach.
"Why are you giving us this?"
A smirk curls his lips.
"I'm giving it to you, Jonathan." The way he emphasises 'you' sends shivers down my spine. He has no intention of letting Jamie go. "But I expect the Cup back."
With my other hand, I reach out for Jamie's. Her skin is filled with gooseflesh, cold as if blood stopped flowing through her veins.
"I won't leave her here." I squeeze her hand reassuringly, but my eyes remain focused on Valentine. "Even if there's a map on the card, it could…"
"There's no map on the card." Valentine interrupts me mid-sentence. "The Cup is in the card."
I raise my eyebrows; is he serious?
"That's not…"
"He's telling the truth, Jace."
I look at Jamie, who has, in these few minutes I haven't been looking at her, gone as pale as a ghost. Her lips quiver with fear, even though she bites them to hide it. Her eyes wander between me and the card – and they are the only feature of her face that still possess a glimpse of fierceness my Jamie has.
"Clary did it too." Her gaze pauses on the card – I wonder if my kiss with Clary still haunts her (strangely, I can barely summon it to memory – I've probably got too much on my mind right now). "She put a pencil into a piece of paper and then got it out. We guessed her mother had done the same with the Cup."
"You will take the card to Jocelyn's daughter and get her to get the Cup out of it." Valentine's voice draws my attention again. He appears so nonchalant about the whole situation, as if he's absolutely convinced I will leave Jamie with him. "Then you'll bring it back to me and we can finally start repairing the damage the Clave has done to Shadowhunters."
"No." I shake my head fiercely; I'm not leaving Jamie with him – alone. "Jamie's coming with me."
"I'm afraid that's not your decision to make, Jonathan." Corners of Valentine's lips shape a half-smirk; he looks almost amused. "This building is filled with men loyal to me. Nobody comes or leaves unless I allow it."
"Then let her go and I'll stay." I hate the begging note my voice attained, the desperation sneaking into it even more. I've got no more cards left to play and we both know it.
For a moment, his eyes glaze over, his smirk disappears, as if he's actually thinking my offer over. My heart jumps with joy that I might get Jamie out of here unharmed, but then Valentine's gaze becomes clear again and it takes just a splint of a second and a quirk of his lip for me to realize he won't acquiesce to my plead.
"As much as your offer is tempting," It's not tempting at all – his mind has been made up long ago, "I need you to bring me the Cup. Not her."
"You said you wanted me to truly fight on your side." I snap back, rage – and beneath it helplessness – taking control over me. I can't beat him at this game – and Jamie will pay the price of me losing. "And you're blackmailing me into doing it?"
Time itself seems to stop as the smirk dies on Valentine's lips.
Is it possible that he's actually hurt? That I managed to hurt him?
"How do you intend to bring me the Cup then?" He demands, anger flashing through his words. "Why would they give it to you, if they didn't believe you were trying to save her? What do you think the Clave would do to you if they thought you gave me the Cup for no justified reason?"
Another wave of bafflement slaps me hard in the face, my heart thundering inside my chest. Did I get it all wrong – again? Is he… Is he saying that he's presenting me with an excuse to bring him the Cup? Nobody would hold it against me if I traded the Cup for Jamie's life, at least nobody whose opinion I care about. Alec and Isabelle would back me up; they'd probably hand the Cup to Valentine themselves.
"She'll be fine." Valentine's voice interrupts my inner debate, his hand gesturing at Jamie. "No harm will come to her."
"Swear it."
I have no idea where that came from, but I cling onto it almost as firmly as onto Jamie's hand when Valentine's eyes narrow at me, making me feel like a child again. Why do I keep disappointing him? Why am I just not good enough for him?
Jamie's squeeze on my hand reminds me why. For her, there's nothing I wouldn't do.
"Swear it on the Angel." I repeat with less fire and more composure to my words. "Swear no harm will come to her."
"You can hardly expect me to swear that, Jonathan." He insists coldly. "Not if you don't want me to lock her up for good so I could be sure she would stay out of harm's way."
I have to admit he's got a point. I want to get Jamie away from Valentine, not to get her stuck with him for the rest of her life.
"Then swear no harm will come to her from you," I take a deep breath, trying to think of a reasonable vow that will still keep Jamie safe, "Or on your command."
If it were possible, his gaze would pierce my skull.
"Don't you trust your own father?"
Not with her. I hold my ground fiercely, not letting myself be intimidated by his stare. As long as I have Jamie on my side, he can't break me.
When he realizes I won't give up, Valentine lets out a deep sigh, his eyes closing as he contemplates the downsides of the vow. I take the chance to glance at Jamie. She looks even paler than before, her blue eyes dark and haunted.
"Is it pointless to ask you not to give him the Cup?" She whispers.
Even in her weakest moments, she never ceases to amaze me. She's scared out of her mind, but she still plays the part of a Shadowhunter the best she can. But I know that not even Valentine could break her in the way I would if I didn't come back for her. Those scars would never heal.
I lean closer to her, our foreheads brushing against one another. I don't care if Valentine's watching, I have to let her know exactly where I'm standing.
"If our roles were reversed," I swallow a lump down my throat – I wish more than anything our roles were reversed. I wouldn't feel half as scared as I do now, knowing I'm about to leave her behind. "What would you do?"
For a few long moments, she doesn't answer. Then I feel her hold on my hand tightening, but still gentle and reassuring, simply confirming what I've already known – she would turn heaven and hell upside-down to save me. I will do nothing less for her.
"Fine. I'll swear it."
Still not letting go of Jamie's hand, our foreheads part ways and I turn to Valentine again, still not quite believing he'll do it what I asked. Maybe he truly wants to gain my trust and loyalty; otherwise, why would he agree to this?
"I swear on the Angel no harm will come to Jacqueline Lightwood," His eyes flicker to Jamie for the briefest of moments before they return to me, "By my hand or on my command."
I let out a breath I didn't even realize I was holding.
He's done it. He's actually said the words. Jamie is safe from him.
Maybe he's never even meant to harm her. He knows how much she means to me. My father might be strict and harsh occasionally, but he's not a merciless monster.
"Satisfied?" He raises his eyebrows – and it seems he actually wants to know the answer.
I won't be satisfied until Jamie is safe inside the Institute with Alec and Isabelle, but I feel no need to tell him that. He wouldn't understand and I couldn't explain it without breaking my promise to Jamie.
"Alright." I put the card inside my own jacket, careful not to damage it, and then I look at him again. "Give me a few hours and I'll bring you the Cup."
To my surprise, he shakes his head, so slightly I barely catch it in the corner of my eye as I turn around to leave. When our eyes meet again, I find myself at loss for breath. By the Angel, he's already asked me to leave Jamie behind. What more can he ask for that I've never thought I could give?
"I'm afraid I don't have that much time to spare." His tone is dismissive, as is his gaze. He won't give me a chance to argue on this. "I've got a few things to do in the meantime."
But I'm going to argue anyway, because he's got my best friend in his clutches and he doesn't understand what effects staying with him, no matter how temporarily, could have on her.
"You can't…"
"She's perfectly safe with me, Jonathan." He interrupts me impassively. "I've sworn it, haven't I?"
I open my mouth to object, but I don't get to say a single word, having been interrupted by Jamie's voice.
"Jace…"
I turn to her the moment she calls my name. She visibly swallows a lump down her throat, but nods at me encouragingly, as if I'm the one who needs reassurance. As if I'm the one forced to face my greatest fear head-on (aren't I, in a way? What if I never see her again? What if…).
"It's alright." Her voice barely shivers. "If I have to wait a little while longer… I can handle it."
Yes, but I can't. Why is this so much heavier for me than it is for her? Am I truly the weaker one between the two of us?
"Alright." I turn to Valentine again, ignoring my instincts that scream at me to grab Jamie and carry her far away from this place. How have I got her into this? "Where and when do I bring you the Cup?"
I have a bad feeling the satisfaction on Valentine's face wasn't brought out by my agreement to his plan, but I push the feeling away. He swore no harm would come to Jamie and I have to trust him. He's my father – he wouldn't break a promise made to me.
"I'll let you know in time." He says ambiguously, gesturing to the door as a hint for me to say my farewells. "You might not want to hand Hodge over to the Clave, though."
So, Hodge knew all these years that my father was alive, but couldn't spare a moment to tell me.
My hands clench into fists, my blood boiling with fury. I'm greatly tempted to summon the Silent Brothers the moment I return to the Institute and have Hodge locked away in the dungeons of the Bone City for the rest of his life. He could have told me the truth. He should have told me the truth.
"Alright." I force the word through my teeth, struggling to keep my anger with our tutor under control. As it is, I still need him. I'll deal with his lies once I ensure Jamie's safety. "How soon can I expect your message?"
"Three days will suffice for what I have in mind." He replies without missing a beat, the answer long at the ready.
I take a deep breath.
Three days. Seventy-two hours. That's how long Jamie's going to stay with him. Alone.
"Don't worry, Jonathan." Valentine says as though he could read my mind. "I will make sure your beloved is safe until your return."
Your beloved. The words cut deep, scarring my soul.
This is not how Jamie was supposed to find out. Not now, barely a few hours after I kissed another girl. Not here, in Valentine's lair. It was supposed to be just us, me and her. I was supposed to hold her hand and look her in the eyes. I was supposed to hold her, not leave her.
"Jace."
I don't even manage to turn fully to her and she's already jumping on her uninjured foot into my arms, her own wrapping around my neck. Her body shakes against mine; I feel absolutely goddamn helpless as I raise my hand to her hair, offering what pathetically little comfort I can.
"You will come for me?" She whispers softly, only for me to hear, sounding as if on the brink of crying. "You, Alec and Izzy?"
I feel tears forming in my own eyes, but I don't let them fall. Instead, I place a kiss on her temple, a token of my promise. When our eyes meet again, she presses my hand against her cheek, as if so my touch will stay with her even when I'm gone, and her eyes flutter shut.
"Of course." I wipe away a single tear off her skin, so easily, so naturally. "Whatever it takes."
If I don't let her go now, I never will.
A freezing gust of wind slaps me hard across the face – it's only then I realize I'm out in the open, clouds hiding the sky from my gaze.
I have no idea how or when I got out of the building. I don't know where I am. I don't care where I am. All I want to do is turn around and rush back to Jamie's side, but my legs keep carry me forward, my mind blind and deaf for the world.
I left her behind.
What if I don't manage to bring the Cup to my father? What if I let them down? What if he refuses to return her to me, because I've proven myself too weak? What if she never forgives me for failing her? What if…
"Jace?!"
The sound of my own name tears its way through the mist surrounding me ruthlessly, knocking the breath out of my chest. I can't tell whether the weight I pressing on my shoulders is immense relief or suffocating guilt.
"A-Alec?"
Before I can even raise my head to observe him properly, my parabatai crushes me in an emotional embrace, his hands touching me hesitatingly as if he can't quite believe I'm actually real.
"We thought…" His voice drifts off into silence – that desperate silence speaks more than a thousand words.
He thought I was dead. He knew I wasn't – the parabatai rune made sure of that – but some emotions are out of even magic's reach. He was utterly scared for my safety, for my well-being. He still is – I can tell by the slight shivering of his body against mine.
With all the fear, desperation, gratefulness, love I have mixed inside me, I wrap my arms around his back, relishing in the comfort a brother's hug can offer. I need him to tell me everything's going to be alright. I need him to tell me he doesn't blame me. I need him to tell me he'll stand by my side, despite who I am and what I've done.
He starts letting me go, but keeps his hands on my shoulders, his blue eyes scanning me for injuries.
"Are you alright?" He asks finally, his gaze meeting mine. "What's happened?"
How can I tell him? Not just about Jamie, but about Valentine – about my father?
But I have to tell him, even if he comes to regret being my parabatai, even if he refuses to trust me ever again afterwards. I can't lie to him. He must know the truth.
"Alec…" I breathe in deeply, looking for the right words. Where do I even start? "I…"
"Jace!"
The world seems to have stopped spinning as my eyes flicker from Alec to Clary, who runs towards us as fast as her legs can carry her, red hair dancing around her head. Some distant part of my mind notices Isabelle running alongside her, but my attention remains on the red-haired girl. I feel relief and adoration washing over me as she reaches us, her emerald eyes shining brightly as they meet mine. She's come for me.
"Clary." I smile at her, filled with desire to do so much more. Memories of our first kiss fill my mind like a flood, leaving little room for anything else.
"Are you okay?" The genuine concern in her voice sends a pleasant wave of warmth through my body, countering the cold in my bones. "We were worried sick."
"I'm fine." I spread my arms like wings theatrically as to prove my words. "You're welcome to play doctor to check for yourself."
Her cheeks flush scarlet immediately, but she doesn't really look repulsed by my offer. I have just about a moment to wonder what that game would look like when Alec's voice reaches my ears again, suddenly sounding very cold, even angry.
"You were about to tell us what happened."
I turn to my parabatai, struggling to keep my attention on him.
I was trying to tell him something, wasn't I? What was I going to say…
"Did you see my mom?" My gaze flickers back to Clary instantly. Her skin is pale, her eyes wide with fear and worry. "Is she alright? Did Valentine hurt her?"
"No…" I shake my head uncertainly after a few moments of silence, ashamed of the fact that asking about Jocelyn didn't even cross my mind. "I don't think I did."
Her features fill with disappointment and I hate myself for it. It breaks my heart to crush her hope like that, but I can't remember anyone even mentioning her mother. But I sure as hell can't tell her the man who holds Jocelyn captive is my father. How could I look her in the eyes afterwards?
"Are you alright?" Isabelle interjects, drawing my attention. There are bags under her dark eyes, which are wide with worry. "Did Valentine hurt you?"
My heartbeat speeds up again. How do they know I was with Valentine? Do they know… No, they couldn't. Jamie didn't know.
Jamie.
"I'm fine, but…" I take a deep breath, trying to sort my thoughts out. There's so much I need to tell them, so much they could hate me for. But only one word comes out of my mouth as I turn to the building I left a few minutes ago, all of the lights in it now dead. "Jamie."
Two hands grab each of my arms instantly, as if their owners are not even aware of their actions. There's just pure dread in my siblings' eyes, their skin pale as porcelain.
"What about Jamie?" Isabelle's voice shivers. "Is she…"
"Valentine has her." My forearms burn as Alec and Izzy's holds on me tighten. "And he'll only give her back if we hand him the Cup."
"But we don't have it." Alec objects with desperation I've never before heard in his voice. He's the one who always has the solution to all the problems – and yet he doesn't have the only thing that can save his little sister. Suddenly I feel like I've been removed from the pedestal of the most helpless one in our group – and it makes me feel even worse.
"We do." I remove my arms from their grasps and reach into my pocket.
Their eyes grow wide as I bring the card into light. They touch it gently, as if they can't believe it we're so close to one of the three most sacred objects Shadowhunters possess. But a moment later, their expressions harden and I know they feel the same way I do – if we don't bring Jamie home safely, it's all but useless to us.
"You need to get it out." I stretch the hand holding the card out towards Clary.
Again, I feel the same sense of warmth spreading through me as I look at her. She'll do this, for me if no-one else, I know it with absolute certainty. That's enough for me.
"But…"
I frown in confusion at her hesitation, no matter how weak it is. I need her to trust me.
"I need it to get my mom back." She explains softly, looking at me and only me.
Her hand reaches out for the card – I find myself actually letting her take it.
"Jace, you can't be serious."
Alec's gaze meets mine. As if he slapped me, I snatch the card out of Clary's reach.
"Jace, please." She reaches out to take my hand, but before she can do it, Alec gets in between us, his blue eyes burning into mine.
"You won't put Jamie's life at risk for her." He snarls the last word with extra contempt. I won't let you.
You will come for me? You, Alec and Izzy?
Please, Jace.
Of course. Whatever it takes.
Please, Jace.
Dammit. I bite my lip, trying to clear my head. I want to help Jamie, but I also want to help Clary too. When I think of Jamie, all I feel is dread and fear of failing her, of losing her. When I think of Clary's mother… I actually think of Clary and how wonderful it would feel to reunite her with Jocelyn. Her gratefulness, even if imaginary, makes me feel warm, as if someone lit an inextinguishable fire within my blood. The fire clashes with ice in my bones Jamie's uncertain fate causes, both overwhelming me so much it literally makes my head spin.
I can't make this decision, not here, not now.
Whatever it takes.
"We need to get back to the Institute first." I insist firmly, pushing the thoughts of my half-broken promise aside. I can't turn my back on Clary, despite the fact that I want – need – to. "To gather our strength, to think of a plan."
Alec opens his mouth as if he's about to protest again, but I shoot him the most solemn glare I can manage and that seems to change his mind. Besides, he must know we'll never get the Cup if we don't work with Clary. If she refuses to take it out of the card, every plan we make is done for before it even began.
"Besides," I place the card back within my pocket, more memories of my talk with Valentine rearing their heads. Again, I feel the need to punch something, but I decide to save it for the person it's intended for. "We need to talk to Hodge. I'm sure he'll be just dying to give us some answers."