chapter 2: there's nothing, that I can do


new chapter! sorry, it is later than schedule.
but! i might release the next chapter earlier than in 2 weeks time :)
please be kind about any mistakes, it is 1am currently as I am posting this
I hope you enjoy it!

disclaimer: i do not own tmi or the characters but i sure love them


"Raphael," Clary whispered, her heart pounding.

"Sí, that is my name," he said and walked forward, running a hand through his already messy black curls.

His dark silhouette slowly faded away and revealed Raphael as he stepped into the streetlight. He was wearing a simple outfit, jeans and a shirt. Around his neck hung a golden chain with a small matching golden cross. Clary almost relaxed at his mundane appearance, as Raphael came closer, a small spot of blood on his shirt, caught her attention. Her body tensed subconsciously as adrenaline coursed through her body. Raphael's eyes snapped to the hammering pulse in Clary's neck, and he smirked.

She was submerged in dread as she realised that he could sense her unrest.

"Dios, Clary, I'm not going to take your blood," he stated, walking closer to her. His amused expression had now disappeared, replaced by an impassive one.

"How did you know I was here?" she said softly.

"Your heart is hammering so loudly that I could hear it from the roof, and last time I checked, there was nobody alive in my hotel" he said.

Clary simply nodded, at a lack of words, and averted her gaze from his expressionless face.

"You still haven't answered my question, hermosa. What are you doing here?"

"I had nowhere else to go," she said, glancing up. For a brief second, Raphael's expression shifted to shock, but it dissipated just as quickly as it had appeared. His face reflected indifference once again.

"Eso es una sorpresa. Really? Nowhere else. What about your sparkly warlock friend?"

Clary simply shook her head.

"The werewolf? Or your mother?"

"No. They're in Idris."

"Oh right, because of the ridiculous ball," Raphael said, a slight annoyance lining his voice, "And the Daylighter?"

"He's no longer the Daylighter. He's a Shadowhunter now, and no."

"Well, what about your little golden-haired boyfriend -what's his name – Jace?"

Upon hearing Jace's name, Clary flinched slightly, which Raphael snatched onto like a wild animal hunting a prey.

"Oh dear, trouble in paradise?" he remarked, amusement running through his words.

Clary chose to not say anything, staring at the pavement, her right foot gently pushing at little stones.

"I see," he mused, "You don't want to go bac-"

Raphael was cut off by Clary wincing, as a sharp breeze passed by. She wrapped her arms around herself, wishing for a warmer place.

"Do you want to come inside?" he offered, in a slightly bored tone. It seemed as if he didn't really care whether her answer was yes or no.

Clary glanced towards the door, remembering her experience just a few minutes ago. But it also wasn't like as she could go back to the institute, where everyone would be waiting for her. Perhaps, she could manage one night in a vampire hotel. Raphael was the leader after all, he would order the others to not kill her.

Or he wouldn't, she thought with a chill. Raphael had made no promises, and for all she knew, he would throw her at his clan as food within a second. He didn't exactly have a good reputation.

And even if you weren't ripped apart within the night, do you really wanna live in a wrecked and abandoned, dust-covered, dimly lit hotel? God knows what kind of things would be present.

As all these thoughts flickered through Clary's head, Raphael stared at her, observing her creased eyebrows, the small tensing of her shoulders and the worry settling on her face. He sighed in exasperation, crashing her train of thought.

"You don't really think we live like that, do you? It's only the first three floors that are horrible. You know, for the sake of appearances. Even though we may be creatures of the night, we still have a sense of living properly."

"It's not just that…" Clary mumbled.

"What is then?" he snapped impatiently.

"How do I know you're not going to leave me as food for the rest of the vampires?" she said, a warm blossom of confidence igniting in her. The most she could do right now is be firm with her words.

Raphael scoffed at her. "If I wanted to make you prey for my vampires, I would've dragged you into the hotel long ago and I wouldn't have bothered with the chit-chat."

Whilst some of her uneasiness had faded, Clary's eyes kept flicking back to the spot of blood on his shirt.

Raphael ran a hand through his hair again, seemingly irritated. "I lead this clan, Clary. I swear they won't harm you, and neither will I. I'm tired of standing here, so will you just come inside? Or go back to your Shadowhunter friends. I don't really care either way."

A bitterness wrapped around Clary's heart, as she desperately reconsidered all her options but ultimately resorted to accepting her fate.

"There's nothing, that I can do," she mumbled. Raphael glanced sharply at her, his eyebrows burrowing but she simply shook her head at him to dismiss his concern. He didn't take his gaze off her but his confusion faded from his features.

"I'll come," she replied, nodding resentfully at him. Clary swallowed her rising discomfort and the feeling that this could go horribly wrong.

"Good," he said. Without any other words, he strolled towards the door and roughly pushed away all the boxes, not caring as they toppled over. Clary trailed right behind him as the door creaked open and he entered. The coppery scent of blood hit her once again, but this time the urge to run away was overcome by her reluctance to stay out in the cold. She turned around slightly to close the door behind her and when she faced back in front, her face bumped against something firm. She almost lost her balance but two hands grabbed her arms and steadied her.

"Easy, Clary," Raphael muttered.

"I'm fine," she said strongly, pushing his hands off her.

"If you say so," he hummed, and continuing down the darkness.

Clary followed cautiously, as the darkness enveloped her like a threatening monster. She seemed to run into a lot of cobwebs, and she was unsure as to how. Raphael should have encountered them first. Suddenly, she realised that she didn't actually know where he was, he had gone ahead too fast, and he moved so gracefully that he was noiseless.

"Raphael?" Clary whispered, moving forward, her hands in front, making sure she didn't collide with something.

She hissed in pained as a sharp object cut across her left hand, and warm blood dripped down her palm.

Ah, shit. Clary thought, annoyed. Great announcement of your arrival to all the vampires.

"I thought you were fine?" Raphael whispered, suddenly having appeared on the left of her. Clary didn't even have to look, she could hear his smirk through the words. Before she could hiss back some remark about not having sharp objects where someone could run into them, he had taken her hand into his slightly larger ones.

"The cut's not too deep, I can fix it up upstairs," he assured her.

"Thank you," she grumbled.

Raphael let go off her hand, and then hesitantly placed his arm around her waist loosely. Clary flinched at the contact and glared up at his barely visible face.

"What are you doing?" Clary hissed, trying to move away. His grip just tightened.

"There's two hundred and thirty seven vampires in the room we're about to go in, about half of them not having had blood yet tonight, and you're currently bleeding. Trust me hermosa, you want to be next to me. Or else you'll be dead before you can even scream for help."

"Fine," she muttered angrily.

Raphael led her, and now that her eyes had somewhat adjusted, Clary could see silhouettes of items around the place. She had to admit, with the vampire guiding her, it was much easier to walk.

And he's warm. Her thoughts nudged her but she pushed them to the back of her mind. They still lingered though, reminding her of his hands that were softer than she expected, his nimble fingers. Clary felt calm, almost drowsy, her emotions and thoughts fighting to take over her consciousness.

She was snapped out of her sleepiness by Raphael's grip tightening around her again. She realised that they where now in a fairly large room that was better illuminated, allowing Clary to observe her surroundings. It looked like a lounge area, with multiple torn couches, springs clearly visible. Coffee tables – or at least, the splintered, wooden remains of coffee tables – were present in front of the destroyed sofas. Every wall and piece of furniture that Clary's eyes traced seemed to have at least one bit of a dark stain on it, and she was pretty sure that it wasn't from coffee. Whilst this unsettled her, she only shuddered when she noticed figures emerging from the shadows, more than two hundred of them, as Raphael had confidently stated. The crowd either seemed hungry, baring their fangs at her, or they were amused, checking out Clary's slight trembling and Raphael's hand on her waist.

"Why is this filthy Nephilim in here?" an Asian vampire hissed. Clary recognized her as Lily.

"Manners, Lily," Raphael said, in his bored manner, "This isn't any way to welcome a guest."

"Guest? You're going soft, Raphael. She's more of a prey than anything. We should just rip out her throat and give the newbies an easy meal," Lily said, infuriated, glaring at Clary.

For some reason, those words cause Clary's fear to evaporate. A dull anger fuelled through her, and it shone through her as she stood up straighter and glared back at Lily.

"Now, now, nobody's ripping out any throats," Raphael said, and then made his voice slightly louder. "This is goes to all of you. Clary here is just a guest, and she will be gone by tomorrow, most likely. Nobody is to touch her. If you do, I will make sure you see the next sunrise."

His tone was normal enough, impassive even. But it had a slight edge, and the threat the words held made most of the vampires retreat a little. Clary was slightly shocked by the announcement, unsure why Raphael would bother to threaten his vampires in such a manner.

"Why do you care so much about her, huh?" Lily snapped back, closer to them two than ever.

"Because I have a seat in the Council, Lily. Besides, it isn't appropriate for us to go killing every mortal that comes across us. Not only will we be breaking the accords, but we would most likely have a war at our hands."

Lily simply scoffed at this statement and shot Clary a murderous look, before stomping up the stairs.

"Well, that was entertaining," Raphael muttered. Realising that all the vampires were still around the two of them, he coughed to get their attention. "As you were," he said, and they all went back to whatever they were doing, somehow soundlessly.

"Follow me," Raphael said, back to his indifferent manner. He started leading her towards the staircase, when Clary realised that his arm was still around her waist.

"Is this still necessary?" Clary said, gesturing at his arm.

"Oh, no, it isn't," was all he said, as he pulled his arm away and started making his way up the staircase. Clary followed him straight away, not wanting to have an experience similar to earlier, even though she could see much clearly now.

The two of them walked up around 10 flights of stairs, until they were at the top level. Clary was more tired than ever, and all she wanted to do was sleep. She peeked a look at Raphael as they walked down a narrow corridor, and he looked not at all fazed by the walk up the stairs.

Of course not, she thought, he's a vampire.

They reached the end of the corridor, where a door was. Raphael pulled out a simple key and unlocked it, going inside. Clary entered, and she gasped softly, too fatigued to control her reaction. The room was massive, to put it simply. Straight ahead was a large white sofa, facing to the wall on her left with a wall-mounted TV. A little matching coffee table was positioned in the gap of the U in the couch, with a soft glowing light around the edges to match the armrests of the sofa. Past the couch, there was a large window with a seat, and to the left along the wall was a full wooden bookcase. Clary made her way forward to the window and noticed a study to her right. There was a desk that was wide enough to take up the expanse between the two walls. A bunch of papers and files were lying around, the whole thing a big mess. Clary recognized a golden envelope as the invitation for the Shadow world ball, but it was on the floor rather than the desk. She was about to go pick it up to put it on back on the desk, but then Raphael's voice interrupted her.

"Clary, come here," he called out.

She made her way back to the front of the room, this time noticing the bedroom behind the sofa. It had originally been hidden by silver velvet curtains, that were now drawn back. An elegant four poster, king-sized bed was positioned against the wall that separated it from the study. It had a mesh at the top, and the canopy flowing down shown with a sapphire translucence. The comforter on the bed with a criss-cross pattern matched the colour of the canopy , and a couple of pillows in a slightly darker shade of blue were resting against the headrest. On either side of the bed were two side tables with drawers, both black and holding a light. On the wall, perpendicular to the bed was another window. It too had a window, seat, and this one looked quite comfortable, almost like a miniature bed. The fabric covering it was a light grey, and there were two large pillows, that matched the ones on the bed in colour. The curtains of this window were a dark blue, to make sure no light got through, but they too were drawn back. Clary observed the small balcony outside, in the shape of a semi-circle. She could see the city, lights still sparkling at this late hour, and she imagined, still noisy.

There was a door on the wall, facing the bed and she could see Raphael inside, crouching down and looking inside a cabinet. She finally stepped inside the bedroom, noticing the change from dark wooden floorboards to a light carpet. Her eyes roamed towards the last piece of furniture she hadn't noticed yet, a mirror. It was almost full length, and extremely beautiful. A golden trim lined it, and there were multiple spirals coming off it at the top. A single rose was present in the middle of two spirals, at the very top, that rose to make a heart. The rose reflected light of it, and Clary realised it was made of glass and the tips of the petals were covered in gold. A tiny vial was encased in the petals of the rose, holding a dark red liquid, with a golden stopper on top. Clary had an urge to feel the glass and gold, but it was much too high for her to reach.

"Admiring your reflection, hermosa?" Clary jumped at the sound of the vampire's voice. She had been staring at the mirror, transfixed.

"What's is that vial?" Clary asked, pointing at the rose.

"Blood," he replied curtly, not even glancing up. He walked towards the bed and sat down, opening up a first aid kit next to him and taking out bandages.

Clary sat next to him, her eyes on the golden wonder still.

"Whose blood?" She pressured, her curiosity getting the better of her.

It must be someone really important, if he's kept it so preciously. She was intrigued.

"That's none of your business," he said harshly. She looked at him in confusion, unsure why he was being so defensive. He saw her look and sighed.

"I don't share matters regarding my life with anyone, Clary. You're probably the only one who's seen my room, and won't be dying immediately. Now show me that wound so I can bandage it," he said, changing the subject abruptly.

"I'll do it myself," she said, taking the bandages from him. "How is this room so posh? How did you get that much money? And don't say it came like this, because I'm pretty sure 120-inch TV's weren't around then."

"I was definitely not going to say that it came like this. It was hideous when I first moved in, and I get it renovated every 10 years or so. As for the money, well let's just say being a vampire brings in its profit, and if you're immortal without a need for useless human expenditure such as food, you get a lot saved up."

"Huh, that doesn't sound so horrible," Clary voiced. Meanwhile, her right hand struggled with trying to wrap the bandage around her left hand.

"Are you sure you can do that?" Raphael asked, staring at her stumbling hands with amusement.

"Yeah," she said stubbornly.

"Here, let me help you," And before Clary could protest, he had taken her hand and swiftly started wrapping the bandage around it. She appreciated again how soft and warm his hands were, and how expertly his agile fingers moved around.

"How do you still remember how to do that and why do you have a first aid kit around?" Clary asked, trying to get her mind off admiring his hands, "Don't vampires heal really quickly or something?"

"We do heal quite rapidly," he said, wrapping the last bit, and looking up at her as he spoke. "But I have a first aid kit around just in case, and I have a good memory."

"Thank you," Clary muttered, noticing that he had finished. And that he still hadn't let go of her hand.

"You're welcome," he replied, with a hint of warmth in his voice that Clary hadn't heard before.

Maybe, just maybe, I'll actually be fine here, Clary thought, as she watched Raphael pack up the first aid kit and leave to put it away.


i hope you enjoyed this!
i think the following chapters will all be this length or longer :)
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