Time for some confrontational fun! I love writing this stuff.

Clary POV

Raphael was bored. Isabelle had disappeared into the trees, with no indication of when she'd be back. Without her to keep him in check, he seemed eager to find a way to entertain himself. And I was the only one around.

"You're so small," he said in a curious voice. "And light as a feather." He shoved me to the ground. I tried to push myself back to my feet, but he kicked me in the side, and I landed heavily in the dirt again. "You're not terribly smart, either, are you? Coming here."

I gritted my teeth and didn't give him the satisfaction of answering. I didn't make a single sound as he grabbed my arm and used it to pull me roughly upright. He stared at me for a moment, as if trying to make sense of me. Then he backhanded me across the face, so hard that I tasted blood.

Again, I stayed silent, choking back the cry that tried to escape me. "You're tough, I'll give you that," he said. "And fairly brave. You haven't burst into tears or anything yet."

I fought the urge to swear at him. Even that would be letting him win. I stared at the ground, until he took my chin and forced my head up so that I had no choice but to look at him.

"You're no fun," he pouted. "No crying, no screaming, no begging for mercy."

"Let me go," I said, the words spilling out before I could stop them. "You don't have to do this, Raphael. You don't have to listen to her. She doesn't own you."

"Of course not. But she is paying me." He grinned and put his hands on my arms as if to steady me, only to slam my back into the nearest tree. He kept his hands on my shoulders, keeping me in place. "And I'll do a lot of things for money, chica."

And then I heard something that was both blessedly beautiful and horrific. "I would remove my hands from her if I were you, Raphael. Unless you want to have your teeth knocked out of your head, that is."

Raphael stiffened and then a feral grin spread across his face. "That was much sooner than was expected," he remarked, turning around. He kept one hand on my shoulder, like a casual touch between friends, except his fingers were squeezing hard enough to leave bruises.

And there he was, standing just a few yards away, arms crossed over his chest, stance casual, eyes blazing with cold fury. He looked like an avenging angel, beautiful and dangerous. He looked like he had in my drawing. And he should not be here.

"Jace," I whispered, and closed my eyes against the heartbreaking sight of him. Now that he was here, he was doomed. We both were. He must have known the danger, and still he came.

"Step away, Raphael," Jace said dangerously. "I let you get off painfully easy last time."

"You took the words right out of my mouth," Raphael answered. He shoved me to the ground and Jace tensed, ready to run to my side, but Raphael was there, standing between us. He grinned, flashing his teeth in the dark. "Fight me then, amigo."

Jace's eyes flickered in my direction, and then he threw himself at Raphael. Raphael dodged gracefully, skipping out of range, smiling broadly like he was having the time of his life. This was what Raphael lived off of, I realized. The danger of this lifestyle, of breaking the law and gladly taking whatever consequences he received in return, just to relish in whatever pain he might get to inflict. He craved the adrenaline and the peril of it all.

Jace spun around, so quick my brain could barely process his movements. He swept Raphael's legs out from under him in one move, and then he was kneeling on the other boy's chest, punching him hard in the face. Raphael rolled, shoving Jace off of him, and suddenly their positions were reversed. Raphael wrapped his hands around Jace's throat and started squeezing.

"Don't threaten me," Raphael panted, his fingers constricting. "I thought I'd taught you this lesson once before."

Jace's eyes bulged and his hands gripped Raphael's arms, muscles straining as he tried to break the other's grip.

I scrambled to my feet and looked wildly around for a weapon. There was nothing but a broken branch lying not far away. Having no other options, I went for it, scooping it up and then racing over to where Raphael was throttling the life out of Jace.

I swung the stick with all my might, and it crashed into Raphael's head. He swore in Spanish and rolled away, clutching his skull. Jace bolted upright, dragging in a deep breath of air. Our eyes met for a moment, and then Raphael was on his feet, glaring murderously at me.

"Stupid bitch," he snarled, grabbing me by the upper arm, lifting his other to hit me.

Jace had his arms wrapped around Raphael's neck in an instant, cutting off his airways and dragging him forcibly away from me. For the first few steps Raphael just pulled me along with him, his eyes bugging out of his head, but then he lost his grip on me and I managed to stagger away.

Jace was squeezing, squeezing, his eyes bright with enraged fire, and Raphael sank awkwardly to his knees, pulling Jace down with him. His face was turning purple in the dim light and his hands scrabbled desperately at Jace's arms, but he was unrelenting.

"Jace," I croaked, and then I tried again, this time my voice rising to a shout. "Jace, stop! You're killing him!"

Jace looked up at me, and for a moment he didn't seem to see me. All there was for him was his rage. He thought Raphael was the one who had brought me here, I realized. He thought Raphael was the one behind all of this. And he was willing to kill him for what he'd done.

I stumbled over to him and dropped to my knees beside him, grabbing his arm, trying to pull it away from Raphael's throat. "Stop," I begged. "You won. Jace, please stop."

He hesitated a second longer, and then, with a great amount of reluctance he released Raphael. Raphael collapsed, choking and gagging, his hands clutching his neck. Jace didn't spare him another glance. His eyes were all for me, looking me up and down. He took me by the arms, and the touch of his hands brought tears to my eyes.

"Are you all right? Did he hurt you?" he asked urgently.

I just shook my head, the lump in my throat preventing me from speech. I managed to get out, "I'm fine."

He pulled me to his chest, his hand holding my head against his shoulder. A tear squeezed out of my eye and plopped onto his shirt. For a moment, I could almost believe that everything was okay. We could leave now; we were going to be fine.

But then I heard her voice.

"This is the most touching scene I've seen all day," said Isabelle. "Two lovebirds embracing over the semi-conscious body of the villain they beat up together. Seriously, you can't make this stuff up."

Jace went rigid, his arms tightening around me. Slowly, he lifted his head; I pulled back from him and saw Isabelle standing just behind us, her hands on her hips, her lips twisted into a parody of a smile.

"Hi, Jace," she said, beaming at him. "Surprised?"

I watched Jace's face, waited for the shock, the betrayal. But it remained hard as stone, though something flickered behind his eyes, something he tried very hard to hide. "Not really," he said calmly. "I always knew you were out of your mind. I just didn't know it was this bad."

For a moment rage filled Isabelle's eyes, before she managed to control herself again. "I'm glad you found your way." She gestured to the small clearing we sat in. "I was worried you would keep us waiting all night."

Jace rose to his feet, taking me with him, keeping his arms tight around me. I could feel his heartbeat, racing in his chest. "So it was you, then," he said.

Isabelle shrugged modestly. "I had a little help along the way. Speaking of help." Her eyes raked the trees around us, taking in every shadow and shape. "You didn't happen to bring anyone with you, Jace, did you?"

I saw a muscle in Jace's jaw jump. "No," he said in a steely voice. "I came alone." I squeezed his arm hard, wishing he would look at me so that he'd see my glare. How could he have been so stupid? And yet I couldn't be angry with him, couldn't blame him for what he'd done. If our positions had been reversed, I would have come for him without a thought, without hesitation.

Isabelle gave him a sardonic little half-smile, a smile I'd seen her give him thousands of times at school. But now it looked different, sort of twisted, her eyes too bright in her face. "Jace," she said reproachfully. "Don't you think I know you well enough to know when you're lying?" Then she turned her back to us and said loudly, "You can come out now! I know you're here."

I was finding it difficult to breathe. I prayed that Jace had had the presence of mind to bring a team of police officers with him. Maybe we would be okay. Or if we could get out of here before Raphael woke up, Jace could easily overpower Isabelle, right? She may be unstable, but he was strong, fast, an excellent fighter.

Isabelle shot Jace a smile that seemed almost playful. "Come on, Jace. Who did you bring?"

Jace just stared back at her, his eyes peculiarly flat.

And then there was a rustling sound from the shadows, and a voice wafted toward us. "He brought us."

Jace's eyes closed, and I felt him inhale deeply against me. He hadn't planned for his backup to reveal themselves—at least, not so soon.

I twisted my head to see—my mouth nearly dropped open—Sebastian stepping out of the trees. His black eyes swiveled and fixed on me, and I felt like they were reaching toward me, trying to drag me away from Jace, from safety.

And from behind him came…

Simon?

"Simon!" My voice scratched my throat on the way out, high-pitched and panicked. "What are you doing here?"

He hung back, looking wary, looking from Jace and me to Isabelle and back again. "I had to come," he said simply.

I shook my head, denying it, hoping that if I closed my eyes right now, he would be gone when I opened them again.

Why did he have to come? Jace being in danger was bad enough. But Simon?

"Look, Isabelle," said Jace in a deceptively casual voice, with an undercurrent of loathing and fury. "I'm not trying to say that you're not an evil mastermind or anything. But you failed. Unless you think you and Raphael can team up and take on the rest of us…" He nodded his head at Sebastian and Simon, both of whom were staring holes into Isabelle. I couldn't help glancing at Simon, wondering what he thought about all this. He'd had a crush on Isabelle since freshman year; what must it be like to realize that she was a lunatic? But his eyes gave nothing away.

"Raphael," said Isabelle, still as calm as you like, her arms crossed loosely together. "Get up."

With a groan, Raphael obeyed, dragging himself painstakingly to his feet. He swayed for a moment, blinking like he was trying to focus his vision. Then he gave his head a quick, irritable shake, recovering himself, and even managed to put his feral smile back in place.

Why wouldn't that guy stay down? Was he nuts? Didn't he know when he was outnumbered?

"Hate to break it to you, Jacey," said Isabelle, and I noticed her deftly sliding her hand into her jacket. I instantly went on red-alert. "But I'm afraid you're the one that's outnumbered."

My eyes met Jace's, and I saw my confusion reflected in them. Were there others waiting in the trees? How many people had Isabelle hired to make sure we were taken out?

And then there was a harsh, cracking sound that reverberated around the tight clearing. Jace's arms went slack around me, his eyes rolled up into his head, and he crumpled to the ground.

I heard someone scream—was it me? It must have been—as he slipped from my grasp. I fell to my knees beside him, terror thrumming through my veins. I turned his face toward me, slapped his cheek, tried to get him to wake up, but he wouldn't. He was out cold.

"Jace," I heard myself gasping. "Jace, please wake up."

It felt like the rest of the world had faded around me. In the distance, in some other universe, I could hear Simon shouting. From the corner of my eye, I watched him launch himself at Sebastian, who stood over me, something hanging from his hand, something that had just smashed over Jace's head with enough force to knock him unconscious. I vaguely recognized it as the branch I'd used to hit Raphael. I saw Isabelle standing right where she had been, unmoved, smiling. Raphael was striding toward Sebastian and Simon, still grinning, enjoying himself.

That was what snapped me out of my terror-induced stupor. I lifted my head, watched as Sebastian drove his fist into Simon's stomach. Simon doubled over, eyes bugging, hands clutching his middle. Sebastian went for it again, and now Raphael had reached them, and he grabbed Simon by the back of his shirt, hauling him upright.

They couldn't gang up on him. I staggered to my feet, felt myself walking, too slowly, toward them. My hands closed around Sebastian's arm, pulling uselessly, and then my voice was yelling. Finally, my brain caught up, and the world ceased to spin in slow motion.

"Get out of the way, Clary," Sebastian growled in my ear, pushing me roughly aside. He turned back to Simon, whose nose dripped blood, who glared defiantly at Raphael even though he didn't stand a chance.

"Stop!" I screamed, taking a fistful of Sebastian's shirt, yanking until I heard the fabric rip. "Don't touch him!"

"Don't be so dramatic, Clary," I heard Isabelle say. She had the nerve to sound exasperated. "You can't expect him to be allowed to live, can you? He came here, after all. He's seen way too much."

I whirled around, throwing all of the hate I felt into my eyes as I looked at her. "Let him go, Isabelle," I snarled. "He has nothing to do with this—"

"He does now that he showed up," she responded. Her eyes shifted past me, and I turned to see that Simon was on the ground now, his arms up to protect his head as Sebastian and Raphael circled him like two hungry sharks.

I lunged toward him, hands reaching desperately, but Sebastian caught me and shoved me back again. I stumbled, barely managing to keep my footing.

"Please," I stuttered, tears pressing in the back of my throat, my breath coming in frantic gasps. "I will do anything. Just let Simon go."

Isabelle gave me a strange look. "You chose Jace," she said slowly, "but you're so desperate to protect Simon. You can't have both, you know."

"Simon is my friend," I spat. "But you wouldn't understand that."

"It's true," she said with a small shrug. "I don't understand the relationships that other people have. I don't feel things the way you feel them. I just don't care. Everyone always says it's some sort of mental defect. The doctors say that it's a bad thing, but honestly? I think it's the best thing that could happen. Nothing to hinder me. Nothing to slow me down. You should really try not caring sometime, Clary." Then she laughed.

How could she laugh now? How could she feel absolutely nothing for the boy that had been her brother for all intents and purposes for the past seven years, now unconscious at her feet? How could she smile as she watched the sweet, innocent boy who had crushed on her for years be beaten? How could she plan on killing us all without batting an eyelash?

"You're not even human," I said, my voice breaking at the end. "You're sick."

"I'll take that as a compliment," she said, tossing her hair. "Raphael, Seb—you can stop now."

Immediately, as if they were controlled by a remote, they stepped away. I barely registered the phone clutched in Sebastian's hand—Simon's. I threw myself at Simon, whose face was bloody and already swelling. I wrapped my arms around him, biting my lip hard to keep myself from bursting into tears. I couldn't bear to see him like this; his glasses were broken on the ground beside him, his gaze unfocused as he blinked up at me.

"I'm sorry," I said, my voice thick with tears. "I'm so sorry I got you into this, Simon. This is my fault."

He blinked again, like he was struggling to make sense of my words. "'S'okay," he finally said.

"Let's make sure Clary sticks around until her boyfriend wakes up," said Isabelle teasingly. "Wouldn't want him to miss the show."

One of the boys—I wasn't sure whether it was Sebastian or Raphael, and I didn't care—hauled me to my feet, away from Simon, whose head fell out of my lap and thumped against the ground. He shut his eyes, pale, exhausted, in pain, and I felt like my heart was being ripped in half. Jace was still lying on the ground not far away, and I was left to stand there and watch the two boys I loved most in the world as they suffered.

"You'll be fine, Clary," Sebastian said. So he had been the one to grab me, then.

"I knew you were bad," I hissed venomously over my shoulder. I tried to jerk out of his restraining arms, but he held fast. It was like the courtyard all over again, his unrelenting hands pinning me in place. At least he wasn't trying to make out with me this time. "I knew you played a part in what happened to Jace."

"Jace and I," Sebastian said slowly, "aren't friends. I won't be his shadow anymore."

"So you're going to let him die?"

His arms tightened around me. "He won't die," he growled. "Isabelle told me what she plans to do. He'll be fine."

I craned my neck around, trying to see him, but I was pinned against his chest. I couldn't glimpse his face. "That's what she told you? Hate to break it to you, Sebastian, but she lied. Like she lied to all of us. We're as good as dead, and you might be next."

I thought I felt him hesitate, felt uncertainty show through his cool exterior, but he said nothing, and he didn't release me.

Isabelle crouched beside Jace, tapping his cheek lightly with her hand. "Jace," she sang. "Time to wake up." He remained still, and I felt a bolt of fear shoot through me. What if he had a concussion? What if he was seriously injured?

Isabelle slapped him hard, jerking his head to the side. A few seconds passed, and then his eyes cracked open, a small moan slipping out of his mouth. His eyes focused on Isabelle, and he shot into a sitting position, tipping a little to the side as he did so.

"I bet you have a nasty headache," Isabelle said sympathetically. "Don't worry, it won't bother you for much longer. You'll have more important things to worry about. Like her, for instance." She pointed at me, and Jace's head swung around. The gold of his eyes flashed and sparked and popped, and he jumped to his feet, staggered a few steps sideways, regained his footing.

"Sebastian," he said, and I could tell that this was the surprise. A part of him may have suspected Isabelle, but he had believed that Sebastian was his friend, his ally. No matter their differences, he'd had trust in him. The look on his face now, shocked, full of hidden pain, was almost too much to bear.

That made me hate Sebastian all the more.

"Jace," Sebastian said, his breath ruffling my hair. "I'm glad I didn't hit you too hard." His voice was cold as ice.

"Let Clary go," said Jace, speaking through gritted teeth. "She has nothing to do with this. Whatever this is…it's between you, me, and Isabelle."

"Don't forget me," Raphael protested, eyes glinting with amusement from where he stood guard by Simon, who hadn't opened his eyes.

"I'm afraid she has a pretty big part in this, too, Jace," Isabelle chimed in, looking a little irritated that Jace's attention had been snagged away from her. "She knows about me. She knows too much, you could say."

Jace dragged his eyes away from me to look at her. "What are you saying?" His voice sounded choked with horror, and that ignited the fear inside of me.

"She has to die, Jace," Isabelle said, flashing me a look that seemed almost sad. But she had told me she didn't feel things like compassion and love toward others—it was part of the glitch in her brain. "And you get to watch it happen."

Several things happened then. Sebastian's arms constricted around me painfully. Jace lurched toward Isabelle, and I was certain he was going to try to choke her to death like he'd tried with Raphael, but then her hand whipped out of her coat pocket, and in it was grasped something long and slender that glittered in the faint light.

Time seemed to stop for a moment. My eyes were glued to the knife; it was like I was mesmerized by the way the moonlight shattered off its surface, the way she twirled it back and forth idly between her fingers.

I tore my eyes away, looked at Jace, and saw that the appearance of the dagger had a much more dramatic effect on him.

His eyes were huge, frozen to the knife. He looked like he'd forgotten the rest of us; all that existed was the weapon in Isabelle's hand.

Isabelle smiled, and the look of it made me shudder. It looked so unbalanced; her teeth glittered like the knife, and her black eyes were shadowed. "Look familiar?" she said, tossing it carelessly from hand to hand, handling it like an expert. Like she'd been practicing.

A sound got stuck in my throat. It had to be the knife that she had used on Jace weeks ago, the knife that had nearly killed him. For all of his bravery tonight, all of his bravado as he faced the truth that the girl who had been like a sister to him wanted to kill him, something in him responded at once to the fear that the sight of the dagger created. I could practically see his flashbacks now, feel his dread seeping through him.

He'd once told me that he had nightmares at night, remembering what Isabelle had done. Had he ever seen this very same knife flash in his mind? Did he wake up in a cold sweat, feeling as if it was still lodged in his stomach?

"Jace." My voice came out strangled. "Don't look at it."

The seconds passing seemed to stretch, turning into hours, maybe years for all I knew. And then, slowly, Jace blinked, and when his eyes opened again, they were fixed on Isabelle, not the deadly object in her hand.

"That's not going to stop me," he said, his voice coming out eerily even. "You're not going to hurt us, Isabelle. Not again."

"Oh, this? This is just for show, really," she said, flipping the knife between her fingers. "Just to strike a little much-needed fear into your heart. You're too brave for your own good, Jace. Where's the begging for mercy? The quivering with terror? You're really no fun at all. Clary is much better." She turned her head and smiled at me, and I fought the temptation to shrink away from her. Instead I stood taller, as much as I could while trapped in the circle of Sebastian's arms, and met her eyes.

Jace lunged forward, reaching for the knife, ready to knock it out of her hand. Isabelle skipped out of reach, laughing like they were playing a game of tag, and I realized in that moment that I hated her. I hated her for what she'd done to Jace, what she'd put us all through, and what she was trying to do now.

"Careful, Jace," Raphael said, slithering up to Isabelle's side. I could see the tension in Jace's muscles as he faced the two of them, clearly having no intention of being careful. His eyes were locked on Isabelle, and the anger and buried pain I saw in them made my chest ache.

"You're crazy," Jace said. "You always hated me because you thought I stole your place in the family, didn't you? Well, here's a newsflash: It's your own fault. You spent so much time hating everything and everyone that you pushed your family away. And now, you're going to lose whatever love they spared for you. What's Alec going to say when he finds out? Mom and Dad? Max?"

Max? I didn't know who that was, and at the moment, I didn't care.

"Jace," Isabelle said, shaking her head, a little smile on her face. "You don't understand. Sure, I hate you because you're trying to take my place. But the reason I'm trying to kill you is because you're trying to kill me."

Jace faltered, his face clouding with confusion. "What?"

"Don't try to deny it," she said. "I've had dreams about you. I've seen the way you look at me. I went through your room, and I found notes. You want me dead."

"That's not true," said Jace incredulously. I felt sick as I listened; how had Isabelle got to this point? How had she deluded herself into believing that Jace wanted to kill her? "You're out of your mind, Is."

Isabelle's smile slipped away, and now she observed Jace coldly. "You should watch what you say," she said. "You aren't really in any position to be insulting me, Jace."

"I have to say that I agree with her on that, amigo," said Raphael, and he held up his hand.

It was like I'd been thrown back in time, to a different spot in this park, with Raphael facing me on the path. His gun stared me in the face, then and now, a dark promise, a threat to our lives.

Jace had been convinced that it hadn't been loaded the first time. But now? When Isabelle planned on killing us both? I wasn't so sure.

"Sebastian," I whispered, hoping he could hear me. "Please. He's your friend. Don't let this happen."

"I told you," he said in a steely voice. "He's not my friend."

I tried to get my elbow up, tried to drive it into Sebastian's stomach, but he only squeezed his arms around me, causing me to gasp. I saw Jace twitch at the sound, but he didn't take his eyes off the gun aimed at him in Raphael's hand. He had gone very still, poised like an animal getting ready to flee.

"I'm bored," Isabelle declared. She stepped right over Simon, like he was a rug, and fury burned in the pit of my stomach. "And we can't stick around here forever. Eventually, someone's bound to stumble upon our little get together. And I really shouldn't hurt any more people than I have to."

"You don't have to hurt anyone," I managed to get out, my voice cracking.

"Funny," said Isabelle, lifting her head and staring into the trees. "That's what the doctors used to tell me. They always said that I had control over whatever I did. If I didn't want to, I didn't have to hurt anyone. But that was the problem. I did want to hurt people. They call that an illness, but I call it a strength. A well-toned natural instinct that most other people don't have. I have a willingness to hurt without feeling guilty about it. I consider that a talent."

I shivered again. How had she hidden this side of her so well before? How had she looked me in the eye and cried about what had happened to Jace? Did she really feel nothing, nothing at all? How was that possible? How had she even gotten this way?

Isabelle's head turned, her eyes cutting to me. "All right," she said, clapping her hands together like she was preparing to do something especially entertaining. "Let's get started, then."

Isabelle strode toward me, her hands clasped in front of her. Jace moved to follow her, but Raphael stepped into his path, holding the gun outward.

"I wouldn't," he said silkily, and Jace turned his gaze on him, black with rage and hate. I would have flinched away from a look like that, but Raphael just looked at him levelly, calmly, undaunted.

Isabelle stopped in front of me, peering into my face like she was looking for something specific. "I warned you away from Jace," she said reproachfully, like I'd done something disappointing. "I told you not to get involved. That was the best warning I could have given you, Clary. If you had listened, you wouldn't be here right now. And neither would he." She jerked her head at Simon. "So you have no one to blame but yourself."

"But Jace would still be here," I said hoarsely, forcing myself to meet her strangely empty eyes. "You would still be doing your best to kill him."

"True," she said with a nod.

"You're a monster," I whispered, and she gave me a rueful smile.

"Come on, Clary. Let's not fall into clichés."

I strained away from Sebastian, wanting to reach out and sock her, claw at her, do something to make her feel any kind of pain. Sebastian's arms stayed locked tight around me; I could feel his quick breath against the back of my neck.

"Let her go, Seb," Isabelle said without taking her eyes off me. "We're going to have some fun."

Sebastian didn't move. "You didn't mention this before," he said icily. "You told me Clary would be fine. You told me they both would be. You said we were playing a joke."

"You didn't actually believe me, did you?" Isabelle said. "Really, Seb—a joke? That's not my style, and it certainly isn't yours. You knew better."

Sebastian was holding me so tightly now that I was finding it difficult to breathe. Meanwhile I was constantly aware of Jace, locked in a silent showdown with Raphael, his eyes flicking from the gun to his enemy's face to me and repeating the cycle all over again. I could see desperation etched in his face, fear—not for himself, but for me.

"Sebastian." Isabelle's voice turned flat, frightening. "Let her go. Now." She twirled the knife in her fingers, her eyes lifting to Sebastian's face above my head.

There was another long beat of hesitation. Then I felt Sebastian's breath, hot on my ear, as he hissed, "When I let go, run. Don't look back. Just run."

"I can't," I breathed back. "Not without Simon and Jace."

"Sebastian," Isabelle snapped, her eyes wheeling back and forth between us as she unsuccessfully tried to figure out what we were whispering about.

I heard Sebastian swear very softly, and then he released me. I lunged to the side, throwing myself away from Isabelle. I wasn't sure what I planned to do. Hit Raphael over the head with another tree branch? Throw Simon over my shoulder and carry him away? That was the thing: there was nothing I could do. Who was I against a gun, a knife, and several lunatics?

"Don't be like that, Clary," Isabelle said, pushing her lip out in a pout. "You make things so much harder this way."

"Let them go," I said, my heart rushing in my ears, pounding like a set of drums. "If you do, then we won't tell anyone what you tried to do. We won't go to the police. I swear it."

"Clary," said Jace, but I didn't look at him. I stared Isabelle down, trying to communicate my sincerity with my eyes.

"I never told anyone about your party," I said. "Even when I was a suspect, I never told. And I won't tell anyone about this, either." My voice turned persuasive, pleading. "You can stop this right now, Isabelle. No one has to get hurt. You can change your mind and walk away."

Isabelle nodded slowly, her face thoughtful, and for a painful second hope soared in my chest. Then she said, "That's probably the last thing on earth I want to do right now." She pointed her knife at me. "You might be willing to keep your mouth shut, but Jace isn't the forgive-and-forget type. And besides, I've been waiting for this moment for years."

She was beyond saving, then. There was no uncertainty in her eyes, no regret, no remorse. It was like she'd had her soul sucked out, and only a shell of a human was left behind, minus the feelings and emotions that one should have.

"Clary," Jace whispered, and I turned my eyes to him as panic started to rise in my chest. I couldn't breathe. Something heavy was sitting in me, weighing me down, and I was going to suffocate if I didn't get out of here. My gaze met his, and just like the other times I'd been with him, everything else faded into gray background. His eyes still looked golden in the gray light, and they were filled with sadness and anguish and anger and fear, so many emotions that I'd never seen on him before, and it stabbed my heart to see him look so defeated.

And then his lips moved, forming one word: "Run."

He whirled into action, cracking his fist into Raphael's jaw. A second later he had his hand wrapped around Raphael's wrist, wrestling the gun away, and they were both on the ground, and I could hardly tell who was who, and all I knew was that there was a gun somewhere in that chaos, a gun that was most likely loaded and ready to shoot, and my head was screaming, Jace, Jace, Jace, Jace—

Isabelle's voice rose above everything, above the shouting and swearing and the thundering of my heartbeat. "Stop!" she shouted. No one listened. Her face turned red with rage, and she stormed toward me. I was too shocked, too horrified at what I was seeing to remember that I shouldn't let her touch me, that I shouldn't let her be near me. I should be following Jace's orders. I should run now, get the police, get help, get someone who could save us—

Isabelle's fingers closed over my arm, and then her other hand moved. At first I couldn't even process what she was doing, couldn't comprehend as I watched the tip of her dagger rip into my arm, couldn't understand the dark blood that gushed out.

And then, like a delayed reaction, the pain came like a wildfire, burning down my arm. A strangled sound burst out of me, and my other hand instinctively clutched the wound, became drenched in blood.

"If you don't want me to cut her hand off," Isabelle raged, spit flying from her lips, "then you'd better cut that the hell out."

There was a sharp groan, and then Jace was scrambling to his feet, disheveled but quite noticeably not-shot. I was biting my lip against the tears that were threatening to fall from my eyes; I tried not to look at the mess of my arm. It wasn't that I was necessarily squeamish around blood, but I hadn't had a lot of experience with injuries that displayed this much of it. The only other time I'd had to deal with a great deal of blood had been when Jace had been stabbed.

The look in Jace's eyes was purely murderous. Raphael dragged himself to his feet next to Jace, still clutching his gun, which miraculously hadn't gone off during their scuffle.

"Don't," said Jace in a low, dangerous voice that frankly frightened even me a little, "touch her."

"Isabelle," said Sebastian in a low voice, stepping forward, his eyes flicking over my bloody arm. "I—"

"Shut up, Sebastian," said Isabelle calmly. "Don't make me regret including you."

I saw Sebastian clench his jaw, but he didn't say anything else.

"I don't care what you do to me," Jace growled, to my horror, "but don't you dare hurt Clary, or I will kill you, Isabelle."

"You'd kill your own sister?" Isabelle said coyly, and then laughed. There was no humor in the sound. "You're fun to tease, Jace. Not fun to scare, but at least I can get to you through her."

Then she pressed the tip of her knife against my cheek. I felt the point digging into my skin, felt a drop of warm blood trace a path down my face. I gasped at the sting as cold air scraped against the small cut.

Jace started forward, but Raphael flung an arm out to stop him. "Don't think so," he purred.

"Go to hell," Jace snarled, and I wasn't sure if he was talking to Raphael, Isabelle, or both.

Jace locked eyes with me again, and I saw that same order in them, that same plea. I wanted to stay here, to protect him from whatever came next, even though I was virtually useless. The only way we had a chance was if I got out of here and got help. But would Isabelle kill Jace and Simon immediately after I was gone?

I didn't want to be the one that got away. I didn't want to be the survivor, if Simon and Jace were killed anyway. It would be my fault if I ran like a coward, if I left them to die. They would never have left me.

But I had to try. I couldn't just stand here, the damsel in distress. I had to do something.

So I threw my elbow up, jerked it into Isabelle's face. There was a crunching sound and she let out a muffled shriek, staggering away from me.

My eyes skipped over Jace, taking him in for what might be the last time, and then I turned and ran into the trees.

I heard Isabelle scream, "Don't stand there, go after her!" but I didn't stop, didn't look over my shoulder. I ran as fast as I ever had, because so many lives depended on me right now. Branches whipped across my face, widening the cut on my cheek, agonizing when they touched my hurt arm. My feet crunched in the dead leaves on the ground.

There had to be a path nearby. There had to be someone around, someone who had a cell phone, who could help us. I built up the breath in my lungs and then let it out in a scream, "Someone, please, help! Please—"

Something hit me from behind, throwing us both to the ground. All the air was knocked out of me; I felt like I was suffocating. Someone was lying on top of me, an impossibly heavy weight.

Then the weight rolled off. I turned on my side, gasping for air, trying not to retch. Fingers wrapped in my hair, yanked me to my knees. I let out a breathlessly shriek as agony sparked all over my scalp.

Raphael loomed in my line of sight. "Usually, I like when they run," he remarked, barely out of breath. "Makes for an exciting chase. But this time, we can't take the risk. Sorry, querida."

He grabbed me by my injured arm, and I cried out, my hands instinctively moving to pry his fingers away, but he held on tight, letting my blood stain his skin. He hauled me to my feet and then began to pull me roughly back in the direction I'd come from.

"Help!" I shouted, my voice lacking volume as my lungs still struggled to regain air. "Someone—"

Raphael's hand smacked me across the mouth, so hard that I tasted blood. "Shut up," he said coldly. "If you bring anyone running, I will kill you myself, no matter what Isabelle says."

"I hate you," I gasped out, just because I had to say it, I had to speak those words at least once before I never had the chance.

Raphael smiled. "That's what they all say," he said quietly, and pulled me back toward Isabelle.

What? Another cliffhanger? I hate myself! No!

If I can, I will attempt to update a little earlier, because I've been a bad person with these chapters. My school year's ending in a few weeks, so there's tons of work to do, but if I find time I'll update early, okay?

In case you're a little confused about Isabelle's incentives, here's a short explanation: basically, she was born with a defect in her brain. She's unstable, ultra-paranoid, and she doesn't feel emotions the way normal people do. Since Jace came into the family and she feels like he's "replacing" her, her brain decided that he's trying to take her out of the picture by killing her. She wants to get to him first. I actually know someone with some of these tendencies. The different ways a human mind can work are fascinating, don't you think?

Hope that cleared up any confusion! Thank you so much for reading and reviewing, love you guys!