Sorry for the delay in updating . . . remember in my last preview I said my kids were sick? Yeah, well, Momma got it too and it SUCKED! But, I seem to be better now so…

By popular consensus we have the Clave first. Followed by a wee bit of Clary and then . . . well, you'll just have to see. :D

Chapter songs:

Whataya Want from Me by Adam Lambert

The Middle by Jimmy Eat World

**I own nothing**

Since the old Gard had been destroyed in the fire, a new one had to be built. Jace, Luke, and Alec stood before it, Alec with his hands straight at his sides, Luke with his arms crossed over his chest, and Jace with one hand in his pocket and the other stroking his chin.

"You would've thought they'd maybe go with something a little different—maybe more modern—seeing as the last one burned to the ground," Alec said.

"If it's possible—I think this just may be even more ostentatious than the last one." Jace glanced up at the large swirling gates, carved with runes, and the two stone angels that adorned either side. They looked to him to be the same as the gates from the old Gard. What caught his attention and disgusted him the most was that just inside, flanked alongside the witchlit stone walkway, were a dozen or so stone statues. Each represented an angel in some sort of battle. None conveyed the recent alignment with the four clans of Downworlders. It was as if nothing had changed.

Luke glanced at Jace. "Since when have the Clave ever done anything scaled down?'"

"Very true. I guess it was a bit unrealistic to think that after such a big change like uniting with Downworlders, that they may want to revamp their ideals a bit. Starting with a Gard that didn't look like someone vomited angelic supremacy all over the place."

"Hmm," Luke grumbled. "It's not very surprising, unfortunately. Even with the four seats designated for Downworlders, it seems the Shadowhunters have flaunted their dominance."

Jace strolled forward and pushed open the gates. "Well, no use in postponing the inevitable."

"Wait a second." Luke grabbed Jace's arm. "What are you planning to say?"

Jace glanced down at Luke's hand and then up to his face. "I'm planning to answer their questions."

"Are you going to answer them truthfully?"

He feigned a shocked look. "Why Luke, doubting my integrity already? I'm nothing if not truthful."

Alec snickered. "He really is. To a fault . . . but that doesn't mean he'll tell them everything."

Jace grinned. "I'll answer their questions, and I'll give them the truth. Watch and learn." He walked through the gates onto the witchlit stone path leading to a set of large wooden doors. The building loomed around him, carvings of angels in the middle of battle—identical to the statues lining the path— stood out from the stone walls. None of the Downworlders were depicted anywhere. A fact Jace wouldn't have cared about in the past, but now, he found it a bit annoying. His faith in the Clave had been shattered after the whole ordeal with Valentine. He found them to be too set in their own prejudices to truly accept this new way of doing things. It was not his intent to trust them with any vital information that would put himself, and especially Clary, in their line of sight.

With Luke and Alec following behind, Jace threw open the large doors and stepped inside the entrance hall. It stretched out in front of them, ending at another pair of open, double doors. Jace noticed as Alec straightened his posture and held his head high. He threw him a disgusted look and Alec lowered his face to the floor, seemingly embarrassed at his inability to be a rebel. Jace rolled his eyes and continued toward the doors.

They passed under the doorway into a room—not a room so much as a large auditorium lined with stadium seating. Black robbed figures donned each seat.

"Wow. Don't I feel special," Jace mused. "All this for little ol' me? I'm touched."

"Jace," Luke warned.

"What?"

"Mind yourself here."

Jace rolled his eyes. "I do know how to conduct myself appropriately, Luke."

Before Luke had a chance to answer, two robed members flanked them, and led them silently to the base of the theater. Before them sat a semi-circle of identically robed figures, but these held themselves in a way that let everyone know they were the ones in charge.

As they stepped up to stand in front of the leaders, the one right in the center stood and addressed them. He had a very thin, pointed face—reminding Jace of a fox—short black hair, and green eyes. "Good evening, gentlemen. Our apologies for postponing our meeting yesterday. It could not be helped. I'm Xaviar, the Consul for this new order of the Clave."

Jace, Alec, and Luke nodded.

"I suspect you all know why you are here?"

"Not really," Jace answered truthfully. "But I suppose it has something to do with our encounter with Stephen Herondale."

"Your assumption would be correct." Xaviar's eyes bore into Jace's as if he were looking for some hidden truth. "And by your obvious resemblance, I am to assume you are his son?"

"By biology only. I don't know him any better than I know you."

"I see." Xaviar glanced down at a piece of paper lying in front of him. "So, you don't know your father at all?"

"I believe that's what I said."

"Hmm. Then why is it we have a notation from the secretary at the hall that someone matching your description came just yesterday to visit Mr. Herondale?"

"And what exactly do you mean by 'matching your description?' Tall? Blond? What? I mean, those things could describe any number of people."

"Well," Xaviar actually looked a bit uneasy, "the exact quote we got from her was, 'tall, lean,'" he cleared his throat, "'hair that shone light a thousand beams of sunlight, eyes like pools of melted gold, and a smile that literally turned my brain to mush'—which, by the way, was her reasoning for letting this person through."

"Oh, well, yes, of course that sounds like me. Though a bit dramatic don't you think? I mean, a thousand beams of sunlight? That'd be blindingly bright—" Jace felt Luke's elbow in his side.

The Consul stared down at him without humor. "So you admit you were there?"

"Yes. I was there."

"And do you mind telling us why?"

"Of course not."

"And?"

"I wanted to find out more about the serum."

Xaviar's mouth twitched. "The serum? You mean the one he was trying to develop to give Shadowhunters the abilities of Downworlders?"

"That's the one."

"Why would you want to know about that?"

"Well, he did try to make me a part of it."

"Ah, yes." The Consul turned back to his seat and sat, folding his hands in his lap. "He was hoping to obtain your blood as well."

It was in that instant that Jace realized that the Clave had no idea Stephen had injected him with the serum. He'd assumed that they'd known, but was grateful nonetheless that they didn't.

"Did he succeed?"

"No."

"No?" The Consul raised his brows. "Are you sure about that?"

"Of course I'm sure. He didn't get any of my blood."

The Consul turned his gaze to Luke. "Lucian, you were also there as Mr. Herondale also abducted you and stole your blood?"

"I was."

"Is Mr.—" The Consul's gaze flickered to Jace, unsure as to what to call him.

"You can just call me Jace. It's less confusing that way."

The Consul nodded. "Is Jace being truthful? Did Mr. Herondale fail in obtaining any of his blood?"

"He is. None of his blood was spilled." Luke let out a slow breath. "If you don't mind, could you tell us what it is you needed us to come here for? We could have answered these questions through correspondence."

"We were curious as to why Mr. Herondale needed the blood of the Nephilim—and of this one in particular—as our abilities do not transfer that way. Which of course he knew. So, that must mean there is something specific about this one," he gestured to Jace, "that made him think he could use him to further his experiment. We wanted to meet him and assess him with our own eyes."

"Well," Luke answered. "You are aware of the experiments Valentine did on him."

"Yes, but he was not the only one. There was a girl as well—Valentine's daughter? Clarissa?"

Jace flinched at the mention of her name.

"That's correct," Luke said.

"Yet," the Consul tapped his long white finger on his chin, "he did not attempt to take blood from the girl."

"Well, he did kidnap her."

"But he made no move to take her blood. She was used as a pawn of sorts? In fact, this, Clarissa, she is involved with you, is she not?" His gaze fell on Jace.

Jace clenched his jaw, the anger he held at bay surged up inside him. He took a deep breath before answering. "She is. And no, he didn't. He only wanted mine."

"Do you have any idea why?"

"Have you asked him?"

The Consul narrowed his eyes. "Of course."

"And what did he tell you?"

"Nothing."

"Hmm," Jace said. "Honestly, he didn't reveal much to me, either. He had some strange beliefs that his family's blood was blessed and what with my extra angel blood, well, he thought it would make the serum work."

"Work how?"

"Look." Jace was quickly losing his patience. "I don't know, okay? He was on the quest to make some super warrior or something. He didn't succeed."

The Consul raised his brow. "Are you sure about that?"

"As far as I know, all he created were those hybrid things, and all of them were destroyed."

"Were they?"

"Do you know something we don't?"

"No, but we think you do."

"What? I've told you what I know about his experiments. What more do you want from me?"

"You're his son."

"And?"

"And, if there was anyone who we feel Mr. Herondale would be most likely to share his secrets and successes with it would be his son."

"Oh, I see. So because this man donated a bit of biology to me, I am automatically implicated in his plans?" Jace threw his hands up in the air and took a step back.

Luke placed a hand on Jace's shoulder and turned to the Consul. "So, this is how it is still? Guilty by blood relation? You're going to condemn Jace for his father's wrongs? When you know perfectly well that everyone—including Jace—believed Stephen Herondale to be dead. And you also know, that it was only a short time ago that Jace learned Stephen was his father."

"We seem to remember this boy wavering between his loyalties when it came to the father who raised him as well," Xaviar said pointedly.

Jace opened his mouth to speak when Luke interrupted him. "Is this what you brought us here for? To vilify Jace by association? As I recall, you were wrong the last time you tried this. Didn't he prove without a shadow of a doubt that he knows what is right? He turned his back on Valentine, risking his own life to do it."

"So you say." Xaviar's hard face never wavered.

Jace heard Luke draw in a deep breath. "Are we about done now? If so, we have things to attend to back in New York."

Xaviar stood once more, his eyes intent on Jace. "Not quite yet. We'd like to examine the boy—to try and discern what made him so special to Mr. Herondale." The two robed figures that had met them at the door came to stand on either side of Jace, each reaching for an arm.

Luke stood in front of Jace. "No."

Xaviar raised a black brow. "No? Is there some reason we can't?"

"Yes. First of all, it isn't your right. Jace is a minor and in order for you to do anything like this you must have permission from his parents or guardian. Since his parents are not able to be here, I have taken on that roll and I don't give you permission."

"You're denying us? You do realize that makes us all the more suspicious."

"I don't care. You're not touching him. You've been unfair in all your dealings with him and I won't let you do it again. Why can't you just see that Stephen is insane? He was driven to madness living under Valentine's shadow for so long. Maybe that's all there is to this. Did you ever consider that possibility? Or did you use your old prejudices over the fact that Jace—completely not under his control—was raised by Valentine and believed to be his son up until a few months ago?" Luke narrowed his eyes. "Many of us lived under Valentine, but not all of us turned out evil. Maybe you should think about that before condemning innocent people under that guise."

Xaviar stared back at Luke, his eyes conveying shock at being spoken to in that manner.

Luke cleared his throat. "Now, as I said. If that's all, we have things to attend to back home."

Xaviar narrowed his eyes. "For now. But let me warn you, you can't keep him from us forever. We don't believe that this boy is ordinary. There has been too much interest in him. First with Valentine and now Stephen. Someday, we will obtain the answers we seek." His eyes met Jace's. "By force if necessary."

Luke grabbed Jace by the shoulders and forced him around before he could say something they all would regret. Dozens of eyes followed them as they made their way out of the auditorium and out into the hall. Their stares burned into Jace's flesh.

They made their way quickly out of the Gard, down the walkway and out the gate before anyone spoke.

"That was," Alec groped for the right word, "intense."

"Yes," Luke answered, his eyes intent on the ground.

Jace stopped and turned to Luke. "Look. I appreciate what you said, but you really didn't need to defend me like that. I could have handled it."

Luke's stare met his. "Yes, I believe you could. But, I think it's about time someone stood up for you, don't you?"

For once in his life, with the exception of with Clary, Jace was rendered speechless.

"Now," Luke started walking again, "Let's get out of here. I've just about had it with fresh air."

Jace smiled. "I could definitely use a good dose of pollution right now." He turned to Alec. "Get your warlock on the line. It's time to go home."

***

Stopping Isabelle's jab in mid air, Clary grabbed her and flipped her over her head, landing her on her back on the mat.

"God, Clary. Where is all this coming from? You can't be that frustrated. It's only been two days."

Clary reached down and took Isabelle's hand, helping her back to a standing position. Once she was upright, both girls donned a fighting stance once more. Isabelle struck out with a kick to Clary's side, which she blocked effectively. "I don't know. It's not that—well, not entirely." She sent a jab Isabelle's way. Isabelle blocked it easily and sent another in Clary's direction, this time landing it smack on Clary's cheek. Clary returned it, catching Isabelle on the chin. "It's more—well, I can't really explain it." Isabelle kicked out. Clary grabbed her foot and spun it around, landing Isabelle on her back once more and pinning her to the mat with her knee. She sat down beside her and wiped her forehead with the back of her hand.

Isabelle raised herself up on her elbows, a bruise beginning to form on her cheekbone. "Try."

Clary blew out an exasperated breath and stared at the wall on the opposite side of the training room. "Well, ever since this binding rune," she absently opened her palm, "sometimes I feel stuff Jace feels. And, I think he must have gotten really mad or something because ever since last night I've been feeling angry. Almost like I can't control it. It kind of scares me."

"Huh," Isabelle said as she chewed on her lower lip and stared at the same random spot on the wall.

Clary turned to her. "Huh, what?"

Isabelle met her eye. "Doesn't that get annoying?"

"It would if it happened all the time. But it's only if the feelings are really intense. Like when he gets really angry, or when I get really scared. But—I don't know . . . it seems like he's angry a lot more lately. It kind of worries me."

Isabelle raised her hand to Clary's shoulder. "Jace was always kind of a hothead, Clary."

"I know," Clary studied the rune on her palm once more, tracing the lines with her finger, "but this is different. It's almost like he can't control it himself and it's getting worse."

"Okay." Isabelle stood, smoothed her hands over her workout shorts, and held a hand out to Clary. "We're going out."

Clary reached up and tentatively took Isabelle's hand. "Where are we going?"

"First of all, we're going to Taki's because I'm literally about to die of hunger. Then—well, we'll see. We need to get out of here. You need to get your mind off Jace and this freaky connection you two have 'cause it's seriously weird."

Clary laughed. "Yeah, okay." She really did need to think about something else. Training and fighting just made her think of Jace more and the aggression that she was getting through their bond grew the more she concentrated on it. She held out her arms as if she were about to be shackled. "Take me away. I'm your prisioner."

Isabelle's eyes widened and glinted with mischief. "Oh you are so going to regret saying that to me." She grabbed Clary's arms and led her out of the training room.

***

Clary grumbled at the ridiculous outfit Isabelle had squeezed her into. The tight black top barely came to her waist and the slim fitting skirt clung to her hips, reaching only to the upper portion of her thighs. Her hair hung in wide, silky ringlets cascading over her shoulders and down her back. The thigh high boots dug into her flesh, making her wish she'd never told Isabelle she could have free reign over her wardrobe, hair, and make up that night.

"I look like an idiot."

Isabelle glared at her. "No, you don't. You look hot."

"What do I care about looking hot? There's no one here to look hot for."

Isabelle came to stand behind her and stared at Clary's reflection with her. "Because sometimes it's just good to look hot for yourself." She grabbed Clary's hand. "Now come on. The night is young and so are we."

Clary sighed as Isabelle pulled her out into the hallway, to the elevator, and out the Institute gates. They walked in silence until they reached Taki's. The restaurant stood virtually empty. Only a few warlocks sat at the bar, and a vampire couple occupied another booth. The same waitress they always had, Kaelie, worked the tables. Clary wondered if she ever had a night off.

"So what are you getting?" Isabelle looked over the menu.

Clary smiled and put hers down. "Sweet potato fries."

Isabelle glanced up and rolled her eyes before sticking her nose back in the menu. "Please. You're so pathetic."

Clary laughed and took a long draw on her soda. She stared out the window, watching the people who passed by, completely oblivious to the strange world around them. Suddenly, she caught the glow of a pair of very familiar cat-like eyes and the sparkle of sequins. The eyes met hers and a sly grin stretched over his face. "Hey. There's Magnus."

Isabelle looked up from her menu just as Magnus motioned with his head for them to come.

"Wonder what he wants," Isabelle said as she got up from her seat, Clary following close behind."

Both girls made their way outside, following the glimmering reflection of Magnus's vest as he led them to the nearby alley.

"Hey Magnus. What's up?" Isabelle asked.

Magnus's gaze fell on Clary. His eyes followed her outfit from head to toe. "Very nice."

"See." Isabelle elbowed Clary. "Even Magnus appreciates my work."

Clary rolled her eyes. "Did you want us for something?" She met Magnus's stare again.

"Oh, not really. Just thought you might like to know I've just opened a portal."

Clary raised her brows, not really understanding why she should care. "Okay?"

Magnus let out a slow sigh. "A portal. At the Institute. Just thought you'd like to know."

Clary stood there for another moment before the significance of what he'd said finally clicked. Her eyes widened and her mouth dropped open. "Oh!"

"There we go," Magnus said.

"Oh!" she said again and spun to face Isabelle.

Isabelle rolled her eyes and waved her hand in the air. "Yeah, yeah. Go. Not that I can hope to compete anyway."

Clary grinned and spun toward the opening of the alley before stopping and turning back to Isabelle. "Izzy," she paused, "thanks for everything. You've been great these last couple of days. Really."

Isabelle smiled. "Yeah, I know. Now quit stalling and go get your man."

Clary's face lit up once more as she turned again and ran.

Okay, so the Clave still sucks. But now…yeah, we all know what's coming. I just need to get my fluff hat on and let it all pour out…;) Reviews make the fluffiness grow larger and more flufftastic! :D

Oh, and did I mention that I love Luke? Yeah, I do. Jace does deserve someone to stand up for him, and well, I like Luke so...