Author's Note: One more update after this and I think y'all will like it! (: At least, I hope y'all will. Anyway, someone asked me for more info on the Millhouse-and I'm so glad they did. I have so much going on in my head that I almost forgot y'all didn't know all about that yet. So here's mostly an info chapter. I know y'all need some answers! BY THE WAY. Y'ALL ARE AMAZING. Those reviews y'all... beautiful. Just brings a tear to my eye! Keep them coming please! They really do help me write faster because when I'm not inspired, I come on here and read the reviews and see how y'all seem to be enjoying this story and it never fails to help me get writing! (:

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Jace isn't at the table when Isabelle and I return.

He doesn't come to the apartment that night, either.

For the next two days, in fact, I don't see him at all.

It isn't until the third day that I run into him while he's coming out of the shower. He obviously doesn't expect me because he's come out of the bathroom to search for clothes in only a towel that's hanging dangerously low on his hips.

I immediately look away from him and say, "I'm sorry. I didn't know you were in here."

"I'm not going to be for long," he replies as he opens up his wardrobe.

I debate on heading on into the bathroom to dress for dinner, but I'm hesitant, curious as to where Jace has been these last few days. So I say coolly, "I haven't seen you in quite some time."

"A fact, I'm sure, you're quite broken up over," Jace murmurs as he looks for something to wear.

I open my mouth, unsure as to what I'm going to say, but it doesn't matter because Jace isn't done yet.

"I'm leaving. The 3rd border is having trouble. I should be gone a week or so," he says calmly, pulling out a pair of black cargo pants and an undershirt. "Try not to grieve too much while I'm gone." He gives me a nasty smile before reaching down for the towel hanging at his waist. With a neat flick of his wrist, he has it undone, and it's falling to the ground.

I quickly avert my eyes before I can see anything, but I gasp nonetheless. "Jace."

"Still holding onto that misplaced modesty, I see. Don't you think we're a bit beyond that now?" I hear him changing, but I refuse to glance over, not until he's close to my shoulder and whispering, in the most condescending tone, "You can look now, Clary. It's safe."

I glare over at him as he pulls on his t-shirt, smirking at me. But his smirk is bitter, not teasing like usual.

"I'll see you in a few days," he says before he's walking out of the bedroom and leaving me before I can respond.

"Clary?"

I turn to see Valentine as I'm walking down the hall, and I repress a sigh. I just give him a polite smile as I slow my gait so that me may catch up.

"I'm so glad I caught you," he says when he's at my side. "You look lovely as ever, dear."

My smile reappears, barely curving my lips. "Why, thank you."

He inclines his head as we begin walking again. "I haven't seen you in a few days, and I…wanted to give my apologies for the trick with the wine. I'm certain Jonathan has by now told you what happened at his party."

"Yes," I murmur. "He has."

"Well, I do regret it terribly. It was a rotten thing to do, I'll admit. But sometimes, Jonathan doesn't understand things. He holds quite a bit of spite towards me, as I'm sure you've seen, so he does certain things to try and hurt me—but he's truly hurting himself, the Guardianship."

"How so?" I inquire coolly.

"The idea of an heir is not just one of my crazed obsessions. It's something that is necessary. The way Jonathan fights…well, he won't be for this world long, I'm afraid. If he dies without an heir, then it would disastrous for the Guardianship."

"Wouldn't Samuel just become the head of the Guardianship?" I ask, arching my brows innocently, to downplay my knowledge.

"Yes, but Samuel is horribly unfit to run the Guardianship. This job takes someone strong—someone that will not be easily swayed or fooled. Samuel is much too trusting of people. I'm afraid he would be the ruin of the Guardianship all together. The only way we would ever fall is by the hands of one of our own."

There's a lump in my throat but I speak around it. "I see you don't have much faith in your brother."

"As I said," Valentine murmurs with a charming smile, "The head of the Guardianship needs to be someone not easily fooled. I'm not stupid enough to trust my brother blindly just simply because we share blood. I know he would be a horrible leader."

"And what if Jace dies after we have a child," I say, the words bitter in my mouth—the thought of us having a child. "Then the child will have no father. How will he become a leader with no guidance?"

"I would train him myself—fix things I did wrong with Jonathan," Valentine replies, matter-of-fact, just as I'd heard before—now being confirmed by Valentine himself.

I'm struck by how horribly cold he is.

"I know that sounds harsh," Valentine amends. "But it's the truth. I've failed Jonathan."

"How is that?"

"He's much too soft—and much too disrespectful. I should have been more stern with him, but his mother…well, she interferes in more ways than one, I'm afraid. Her feeble mind must have been passed down to Jonathan."

I can't hold my tongue, even though I know I should. I just can't. The words slip past my lips without thought. "I think Celine to be quite nice. She's very loveable—something a leader would need, don't you think? To hold to support of the people? Jace may have inherited such a trait from her, as well."

Valentine blinks rapidly, obviously put out by me. "The people's support does not matter. The job of a leader is to lead—to keep peace, to enforce laws, to keep balance. That is not a job for the loved one of the people. It's a job for someone strong enough to do it—a job, I fear Jonathan is not capable of."

"I believe he might surprise you," I say, coming to halt outside of my room door. I arch my brows over at Valentine. "Perhaps you don't have enough faith in him."

"It's better to have too little faith than too much," he says.

"Missing Jace?" Izzy teases as I stare out the window, my stoic as I gaze up at the gray sky. It looks as if snow may be coming.

"Hardly," I reply to her with a rueful smile.

She laughs. "You can be honest. I got lonely when Sebastian left…even though we weren't each other's soul mate or anything. You get used to certain company—and certain things at night…in the bed…you know—"

"Yes, Isabelle, I understood your allusion after the first hint," I mutter, rolling my eyes and looking back down at the yarn I have littered over Izzy's coffee table.

"He's been gone three weeks now," Izzy sighs, blowing her hair out of her eyes. She moves her hand down her stomach, which is just starting to have a hint of roundness to it. "It's longer than they anticipated. Aren't you worried about him?"

"Mr. Lamb assured me they were fine," I tell her, grabbing up the yarn and starting on the second little bootie in the pair I'm making for Isabelle's baby—albeit prematurely.

Simply put, I'm bored.

I've been bored for the past two weeks especially.

Everyone has been busy, and I haven't been able to find out anything—on the Millhouse, on the things my mother is after, even on petty gossip. Everyone seems very tight-lipped all of a sudden.

"Did you make passionate love to him before he left?" Isabelle demands dramatically, throwing her head and arms back.

"No," I say, knitting away.

"You're so dull sometimes, Clary."

I just roll my eyes.

"Are you gonna make passionate love to him when he gets back?"

"Why are you so obsessed with my love life?" I inquire, arching a brow.

"I'm not. I'm just hoping that maybe getting laid will knock some of the chill off of you," Isabelle replies, sitting her feet up on the edge of the coffee table.

I sigh. "Oh, Isabelle. You never cease to amaze me with your manners—or lack thereof."

She just laughs.

We sit in silence for a long time, me knitting and her reading some sort of old book, but as I work, I wonder if maybe the answer to some of my questions isn't right here in front of me.

Maybe I've been tiptoeing around too long and need to just take a chance.

I glance up at Izzy discreetly. She's so harmless. Surely she wouldn't go around blathering to everyone that I'd been asking questions.

"Isabelle?"

"Yeah?"

I swallow back my fear and just make the plunge. "Have you ever heard of the Millhouse incident?"

Izzy frowns a little, which stops my heart. "Wasn't that…that fire that burned up all those humans a few years back?"

I nod. "Yes, I think so. I heard something about the other day in passing—and it wasn't the first time. I was just curious as to what it was."

"Oh. Well, I think it was just this electrical fire that started in one of the old mills in Mill Village—you know, the industrial part of the city where everything gets made. Anyway, the foreman had locked the doors on the workers, to make them stay and work as long as possible, and when the fire broke out—they all got burnt up. Apparently, some of the humans even jumped from the windows of the Millhouse—just to end it rather than burn up. It was awful."

My knitting becomes a little frantic. "That sounds awful. Didn't anyone try to help the poor things?"

"The Guardianship arrived too late. Most everybody had burned to death by then. It was actually kind of weird…apparently the alarm system that runs through the city to alert the Guardians of anything funky happening—well, that alarm system was messed up. It kept us from knowing there was a fire until it got to us by word-of-mouth. There was a big investigation on it."

My heart is pounding, sweat breaking out on the back of my neck. "What did it turn up?"

"Oh, nothing—of course. It was just something electrical—just like at the Millhouse. They said it was all intertwined."

"So…it wasn't a person, then?" I ask, hoping that I'm not going too far.

Isabelle cocks her head, narrows her eyes. "Well, I guess it could have been. But the investigation said nope."

I nod a few times and I know I've pushed a little too much, so I quickly hold up the booties to Isabelle and inquire, "What do you think?"

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