Four
'In the middle of the journey of our life I found myself within a dark woods where the straight way was lost.'
Jasmine was rudely interrupted from her 'light' reading of Dante's Inferno by a messy pile of synthetic hair. She slowly glanced up to see Isabelle standing before her, hands placed daintily on her hips, dressed in a tight, emerald v-neck top and leather trousers. She hadn't even realised that the Lightwood had entered her room - though Dante tended to do that to her.
"Choose one," Isabelle demanded, though the smile plastered on her lips contradicted her harsh tone.
There were two clumps of hair splayed across her lovely book - one a vibrant sky-blue and the other a stupefying platinum blonde which was much more dazzling than her own ashy, blonde locks. "What's the occasion?"
"Kicking demon ass, of course," Isabelle replied gracefully, not missing a beat.
Jasmine grinned at the Lightwood, flicking her own hair. "Well - not to toot my own horn or anything - but demons dig blondes."
The dark-haired beauty laughed happily and snatched up the blonde wig. "My thoughts precisely," she reached out and grabbed Jasmine's hand, hoisting her up with ease. "C'mon, let's get ready!"
"Hold on- wait a second," Jasmine halted and gently pulled her hand out of Isabelle's iron grip. "What are you talking about?"
The Lightwood's gaze softened and she stepped towards the blonde. "Hodge wants to see what you're capable of," she admitted with a roll of her eyes that didn't seem directed at her. "He insisted that you join my brother, Jace and I on a hunt."
She wasn't sure what she felt about being tested - and in such a deceptive manner also. She was a shadowhunter, through and through; her testing was done the moment she'd slain her first demon. But she was a newcomer - an outsider - and if this was how things were done in the New York Institute, then she would have to go along with it - reservations be damned.
She schooled her features, all signs of conflict buried deep, and offered a small quirk of her lip. "Is it somewhere exciting, at least?"
The two girls ended up getting ready in Isabelle's room after the Lightwood found out the dastardly news that Jasmine didn't have any going-out clothes. She'd insisted that the blonde plunder through her vast wardrobe and find something 'daring and sexy'.
Jasmine had taken a quick moment to survey the bedroom. It was an expansive space, much like her own room, except it was instead decorated with tones of purple. Glossy, white mannequin heads sat on a delicate dressing table, adding to the clutter of make-up brushes, lipsticks and an assortment of colourful wigs. Perched on the desk also lay a large vanity mirror, the edges lined with luminescent spot-lights that bathed the room with a soft glow.
A sheer, lilac curtain swayed gently in the soft breeze that poured in from an open window, and Isabelle huffed in annoyance. She pulled back the material to reveal a beautiful stained-glass window - a plethora of runes marked upon it in deep, scarlett glass - and, with a resounding thud, the window was sealed shut.
A thoughtful hum brought her attention back to the other girl, and she found Isabelle striding purposefully towards her wardrobe - a gorgeous, white dresser with golden accents. She yanked open the doors and rummaged around, muttering under her breath.
Jasmine quickly learnt that Isabelle had a huge range of clothing; everything from matte black tones to blindingly bright neon yellows and pinks. Glitter and sparkles dominated one half of the dresser and Jasmine couldn't bring herself to rifle through those pieces of art. Instead she stuck closer to the black range. She noticed a pair of killer, high-waisted leather trousers that would show off her curves and a rockin' crop top with long bell sleeves. A giddy smile crept onto her lips.
As she squeezed into the tight fabrics, she noticed that Isabelle was already done and dusted, hips swinging as she sashayed towards her floor-length mirror and admired her work. The Lightwood had chosen to wear a little two-piece number - a white, square-neck cropped top with a matching skirt, both tight leather of course.
"Isabelle, let's go!" A deep voice called out in a decidedly bored tone.
The ebony-haired woman glanced at Jasmine, hurriedly gathered up a pair of stiletto heels and shoved them into the blonde's hands. "Here, put these on - you look about my size," she commented, glancing down at her feet.
Isabelle made for the door - absently stroking her platinum wig - and leaving a huffing Jasmine to hastily yank on the shoes as she tried to follow.
"-What can I say? Demons dig blondes."
Jasmine poked her head out of the bedroom to find the Lightwood siblings gazing at the synthetic hair; though, while Isabelle's gaze was full of admiration, Alec was glaring at it like he had just pulled it from underneath his shoe.
He startled ever-so-slightly when he noticed her presence and raised a single, perfectly-sculpted eyebrow at his sister. His eyes gave Jasmine a once-over and he simply shook his head, gesturing to Isabelle to follow his lead.
"Of course they do," he continued, glancing back at the blonde in the vicinity with a stormy expression, "but that's white."
"Platinum," Isabelle countered shortly, picking up her pace as they rounded a corner. "And they don't exactly like Shakespeare, okay, Alec?"
Jasmine snickered as she strolled behind the Lightwood siblings, ignoring the blatant scoff from Alec as they continued to bicker.
The three shadowhunters descended the staircase leading into a grand chamber - the hub of all shadowhunting activity. It was particularly busy, Jasmine noticed. There were numerous computers pinging erratically, compiling demonic data galore; the shadowhunters behind the screens called out names and places that were apparently important. Large, golden runes were emblazoned on the stone walls, sticking out like a sore thumb - though she guessed there was no reason to be subtle about their heritage - and there were panels of flooring along the edges of the room that glowed brightly.
Isabelle acknowledged a patiently-waiting Jace, who gave Isabelle's wig a quick glance and smirked.
"Nice choice, Izzy. Demons dig blondes."
Jasmine snorted in amusement when she noticed Alec roll his eyes at the smug look his sister gave him. The sound drew Jace's attention, and he grinned widely as if he had struck gold.
"Welcome aboard - we're very glad to have you, right guys?" He pointed at Isabelle and Alec for support, his bold smile showing off a set of perfect, pearly-white teeth.
The raven-headed woman nudged Jasmine's shoulder. "Of course," she answered happily. Somehow she maintained her fantastic exuberance even as she glared at Alec in warning. The brother huffed and inclined his head a fraction.
Well, she would take what little she could get.
Jasmine crossed her arms, lifting her eyebrows at the other blonde, and Jace spurred into action, winking at her good-naturedly. He pivoted to face a nearby computer screen and gave it a few purposeful taps. "All right, guys, for some reason our demon friends are killing mundanes and draining their blood."
Isabelle, Alec and Jasmine all frowned in unison, calculating possible explanations to the unusual circumstances. They followed Jace as he determinedly marched towards an expansive armoury. The Lightwood brother was the one to ask; "Why blood? Isn't that vampire territory?"
Jace appeared just as confused as his counterparts. "I don't know, Alec. Lazy vamps, maybe?"
"There must be something special about their blood," Isabelle reasoned logically, as the group gathered around to collect their respective weapons.
Her brother scoffed in disdain, effortlessly twirling a glistening seraph blade with one swift wrist motion. It could have made her swoon, had it not been ruined by Alec's foul expression. "What could be special about mundane blood?" His tone of voice made Jasmine bristle in annoyance - arrogant snob.
She bit back hard, plastering on a condescending tone in mockery. "You're telling me you can't think of even one demonic ritual that requires a human blood sacrifice?"
An argument was about to brew, she could feel it in the air, the way one senses a storm from leagues away. Alec tensed, obviously priming himself to retort to her rebuff, and she prepared in turn.
She held her hands up, defensively. "I'm just saying."
"You're here to help," he drawled out, lazily as if the idea of her helping them was laughable, "not mouth off."
The self-appointed leader of the usual trio sighed tiredly. "Guys, please." Jasmine relaxed her shoulders, unwinding the coiled spring, and Alec seemed to have the same idea - though his fiery gaze was unwavering, threatening to burn away her resolve. She reminded herself of where she was. She was a newcomer - and she had to prove herself, as much as it made her nauseous. "We'll have more answers when we figure out exactly who the demons are working for."
It was like a freshly-carved seraph blade had sliced through the tension. Isabelle perked up, thoughtfully. "So, you don't think they're acting on their own?"
"No," was all he supplied. Eloquent.
Jasmine quickly snatched up an angelic sword and a pair of twin daggers, the hilts and blades littered with small Marks.
"They're not exactly creative thinkers," Alec added, looking completely bored of the conversation as they descended back into the main body of the chamber. "They're shapeshifters."
"But tricksy enough to be a nuisance," Jasmine grumbled, shoving her daggers into the thigh sheaths Isabelle had given her earlier on with wagging eyebrows.
"All demons are a nuisance."
Well- she couldn't argue with him there.
The shadowhunters stopped in front of a large computer screen which displayed an image of a middle-aged, bespectacled, greying Asian man who was dressed in a smart, navy suit. Jace shoved a single finger towards the picture. "This," he announced, "is what our target looks like."
"For now," Isabelle sang.
Alec leaned forward, examining and memorising the face. Jasmine noticed, as she in turn examined him, that Alec had a small line running through his left eyebrow - whether by choice or remnants of a scar Jasmine wasn't sure. Unfortunately, that particular imperfection somehow managed to make him even more attractive, and she rolled her eyes so much that a twinge of pain resonated through her skull.
"Great," he deadpanned. "I'll get approval for the mission."
Jace flinched, his face aghast as if Alec had deeply offended him. "Come on, Alec," he rebuked. "By the time you've sent that message, we'll have killed six demons."
The shadowhunters made their way to the main entrance of the Institute; Jace at the head of the group - followed closely by Alec and Isabelle - with Jasmine taking the rear, her eyes darting between the bickering trio.
"Besides," Isabelle chimed, "it's more fun to break the rules than to follow them."
The platinum-haired woman couldn't see Alec's face - just his well-defined, leather-clad back - but she imagined it looked like he'd swallowed something incredibly sour. A tiny smile crept onto her lips at the thought.
The downworld nightlife of New York was vibrant to say the least, as she guessed that it might be. It was all trance music and bass, the beat reverberating throughout her bones. Graffiti covered almost every square inch of space; the heavy, iron columns that led towards the entrance, the dark walls of the nightclub itself, even some of the vehicles parked on the street. An incandescent kaleidoscope of spotlights flashed wildly and vivaciously, illuminating the midnight sky and the dull brickwork of the buildings that surrounded the nightclub - Pandemonium, as the blazing, fuschia neon sign read.
Of course, it wasn't just downworlders who frequented the flamboyant club. No, Jasmine could make out numerous, unsuspecting mundanes hidden amongst the throngs of the mystical. Not that their presence would hinder the shadowhunters - who slid so elegantly through the writhing crowd, ducking and weaving the spontaneous and jerking arms of the dancing hordes.
The quartet of angelic warriors, who were steadily approaching the nightclub, had split up. Jace - once again - took point, strutting determinedly, his coiffed, blonde locks ruffling in the faint breeze. He ignored those around him and was utterly focused on the hunt.
Jasmine followed, not too far behind the self-appointed leader. She absentmindedly checked her weapons, relaxing at the feel of the daggers at her thighs. Her eyes roved over the bustling crowd, taking in their carefree aura as they swayed rhythmically under the moonlight.
She almost missed the moment that Jace barged into a poor, human girl - a large boulder of a man with long, green dreadlocks having nearly blocked her line of sight. The girl stumbled back a few steps and huffed in irritation, cartoonishly brushing off her clothes.
"Hey!" The mundane cried out, thoroughly incensed by the cocky blonde's demeanor. "Can you watch where you're going?"
Jasmine froze, recognising the soprano voice, and she peered around the mountainous mundane to see the all-to-familiar head of wild, scarlet hair. "Uh-oh."
The girl she'd met in the cafe stared straight into the bewildered eyes of Jace Wayland. The shadowhunter took slow, measured steps towards the redhead, his brows furrowed deeply.
"You can see me?" He demanded.
Oh, Raziel. Well, it seemed like the redheaded mundane would definitely be a topic for discussion.
The large, dreadlocked man had finally moved away, and Jasmine was left staring dumbly as Jace and Clary conversed. She noticed an immensely mystified Simon, and a pretty, black girl with an intricate hairstyle, behind Clary - watching her have a conversation with thin air.
Jasmine could have laughed, but instead she shook her head. The mission; that's what they needed to focus on - finding and eliminating the shapeshifters. With great reluctance, she tore her gaze away from the ongoing train-wreck and turned to carry on into the club.
"Jace!" Alec's distant, gravelly voice cut through the heavy, rhythmic thuds of the trance music that filled the air. His voice echoed, and Jasmine shivered as though he had whispered softly in her ear. Taking a breath, she ploughed on to the entrance of Pandemonium - leaving behind the perplexed shadowhunter and the equally dazzled mundane.
She marched past the hulking bouncer who manned the door to the popular club and the music bombarded her sensitive hearing as she stepped through the threshold, the bass increasing so much that Jasmine's eardrums could have rang with the pressure. The beat crashed on; the partying mundanes and downworlders blissfully unfazed as they let loose. Jasmine took a moment to survey Pandemonium in its glory.
A long bar to the left took up the length of the club; two bartenders were hastily taking orders while another one was caught up in a heated discussion with a pink-haired patron who had a face full of piercings. Beverages for all species filled the glass cabinets behind the bar - the usual mundane vodka and gin; a plethora of blood-types for the vamps; mystical vials brewed by centuries-old warlocks for the magic-fuelled downworlders. It was pretty impressive.
A wintry chill seeped down her spine. The incandescent lights glittered wildly against her diamond eyes as her gaze swept across the expanse. A vibrant pair met her own.
His eyes were cat-eyes, quite literally. They glowed a vivid gold with flecks of lemon and olive, and they brightened even more at her attention. A group of Downworlders surrounded him, lounging around on luxurious sofas as they lazily gossiped. An air of perceived superiority hung over them and they were all effortlessly beautiful. Jasmine would have rolled her eyes had she not been staring at the man with the cat-eyes. She noticed expensive, silk finery embroidered with captivating, psychedelic patterns. The man behind the eyes smirked and straightened, his alluring aura beckoning her closer. She took a mindless step forward.
A boisterous and enthusiastic mundane roughly bumped into her - the girl laughing wildly as she nodded her head to the beat of the music, oblivious to everything but the bass. Jasmine huffed a short chuckle and spun back towards the mysterious figure with the beautiful eyes. The space was empty, save for the mixture of gorgeous Downworlders that had relaxed with him.
A familiar, and imposing, trio caught her eye. Jasmine spared a single glance back towards the deluxe sofas. The mission.
She hardened her features and hurried along to catch up with the team of shadowhunters. Isabelle smiled when she joined them, pulling up the collar of her long overcoat so it brushed against her short, platinum wig.
Jasmine's eyes focused on a woman ahead, who sauntered cockily through the club as if she owned it. She wore a gaudy fuschia dress that detailed a labyrinthine back design in black lace. It reminded Jasmine of a spider's web - twisting and elaborate. Large, golden hoops dangled from her ears and rested primly against an elegantly long neck. But as the woman turned her head a fraction, the shadowhunters could clearly see how her warm, brown eyes flashed an electric blue.
They watched as she approached an odd pair - two men who looked misplaced in their suits and shades. She handed something to a black man with an afro and goatee, seeming to whisper sweet-nothings into his ear, and then sauntered off with a pouch in her hand. The two men smirked at the other, pleased with themselves.
It seemed as though they had found their blood-dealer easily enough.
The quartet of warriors followed her towards a set of grand, olive curtains that partitioned a niche section of the club away from the rest of the crowd. She sashayed past the two robust guards that manned the small entry with ease, the men barely batting an eye.
Jace approached the thick curtains, did some sort of twirl (Jasmine made a note to question his stealth and surveillance tactics another time) and suavely slinked in behind the woman. Isabelle and Jasmine were quick to follow through, though Jasmine stiffened when she heard the guards swiftly close the curtains after them.
Jace glanced over at Isabelle, discreetly nodding his head. "Izzy," he whispered.
She smirked and strutted towards a high platform, where she flung off her overcoat and wig, flicking her thick, dark hair over her shoulder enticingly. She had the attention of the guards instantly, their eyes flashing the same electric blue as they prowled towards the beauty. Her full hips undulated effortlessly as she danced on the platform, graceful and serene as if she weren't surrounded by hellspawn.
Jasmine and Jace walked over to the woman in pink, him coming up behind her and grabbing her waist while Jasmine stopped in front, smiling sweetly.
"I hear you've been peddling mundane blood," he murmured softly into the demon's ear, pressing himself up against her back. To anyone else, it might have seemed a sweet gesture, a loving embrace. But Jasmine saw the intent in his eyes, the excitement of the fight to come.
The woman gazed at Jasmine, her lips smiling but her eyes bored. "Why? You lookin' to score?"
Jace chuckled, looking at the other blonde as if to say 'is she for real?'.
"No," Jasmine answered bluntly, crossing her arms as Jace spun the demon around to face him.
His eyes bore into the woman like lasers, grip tightening on her biceps. She glanced down at his hands, unamused and glaring. "But you're gonna tell us who is."
The demon glanced around the space, eyes flashing momentarily as she met the gaze of her fellow hellspawn. Jasmine's hand itched to grab hold of her daggers, her fingers twitching as the demon's lip curled up.
"Well you're outnumbered here."
"Oh, I like our odds," Jace whispered, almost seductively.
Jasmine rolled her eyes and huffed, drawing the attention of the shadowhunter and the demon. They watched her expectantly. "If you're quite done flirting with the enemy-", she mocked, bringing out a dagger with a swift flick of her wrist.
Jace glanced back to the demon, raising his eyebrows. "Last chance," he said, face illuminating with angelic light as his seraph blade shot to life.
"WATCH OUT!"
An almighty screech filled the air, easily battling the heavy bass of the club music. A familiar figure burst onto the scene and harshly shoved the demon away from Jace. The second the woman fell onto the plush, leather sofa, all hell broke loose.
Her once plump lips had opened up and extended gruesomely, splitting into four disgusting mounds of flesh, each lined with rows upon rows of gnarled and razor-sharp fangs. Thick globules of spittle dripped from the demon's gaping jaws and it shrieked out a menacing roar. What were once delicate hands, quickly elongated into curved, serrated claws the length of Jasmine's forearm.
Jace flicked his head towards the mundane, noticing the terror and confusion in her eyes.
The demon charged. As Jasmine smoothly placed herself in front of Clary, Jace whipped an arm out and firmly pushed the redhead back, knocking her swiftly off her feet and sending her sliding into the concrete wall.
With a slash of her angelic blade, the demon exploded into nothingness, the bright burst of orange light and viscous patch of ichor on the floor being the only indications of the hellbeast.
The other demons kicked into action, charging towards Jasmine and Jace, their contorted faces spraying drool as they screeched. The two shadowhunters widened their stances, shoulder to shoulder, and sprung into the fray.
Seraph blades and daggers sunk into demonic flesh, slicing at tentacles and claws, the angelic steels glowing ever brighter as more and more monsters fell to their touch. Jasmine's back pressed against Jace's, his warmth comforting as they worked seamlessly in sync to dispatch the coming horde.
She noticed Isabelle lazily slaughtering two demons with her electrum whip, her movements nimble and poised. She ducked and twirled as more demons approached - it was more of a dance than a fight.
A demon - which had once been a muscular man with a thick scar down his cheek - swung its talons at Jasmine, the sharp tips inches from her face as she leant back to avoid the blow. She plowed a hand into the creature's chest and sent it flying away from her, satisfied with its echoing shriek of rage.
"Are you hurt?"
Jasmine turned to see Jace helping Clary stand, his touch firm but careful. The poor girl was terrified, looking up at him in horror and bewilderment, her lips agape and eyebrows scrunched. Her green eyes widened even more when she noticed Jasmine - and the silver-haired shadowhunter sent her a pitiful smile.
An ear-shattering roar reverberated oh-so-close to her ear and Jasmine whipped around, her ponytail flying wildly. A dagger already in hand, she lunged for the pouncing demon. As the tip of the blade inched over the thing's chest, it exploded - the sharp burst of light almost blinding her as the beast was sent back to hell. Obsidian ichor stained the floor and splattered over her clothes. She could feel the itchy substance tickling her neck.
With furrowed eyebrows, she scanned the environment. Alec stood across the other side of the space, bow raised and aimed towards her. The bowstring was vibrating excitedly, the tell-tale sign of a freshly-released arrow. Their eyes met and her breath whooshed out of her lungs. He swallowed thickly and gave a single nod, his gaze unreadable. He looked away, and spurred into action, finding and destroying his next demonic target with ease.
For someone who sure seemed to despise her presence, he was pretty quick to defend her. Perhaps it was simply a matter of shadowhunter honour, or maybe he was secretly a softie. Regardless of his motive, Jasmine was awash with gratitude.
Heart pounding like a jack-hammer, Jasmine's hand tightened on her wickedly-sharp blade and flicked it towards a demon that had snuck up behind Isabelle. It soared through the air, arcing and curving as she had intended, and crunched steadfastly in the demon's eye. The creature flailed around for a few seconds before bursting out of existence. The dagger clanged to the ground, covered from hilt to tip in thick ichor.
A shrill cry boomed above the cacophony of demonic growls and shrieks, the yelp being so filled with fear that Jasmine instinctively spun to face the sound.
Clary stood trembling, gripping a seraph blade as if her life depended on it. And it did, she supposed. A demon was thrown towards the redhead and impaled on the sharp tip, dissolving into nothingness as sparks and ichor flew.
Jasmine started towards the girl, smoothly ducking an incoming claw from a demon to her right. She jabbed the beast in the throat, stepping closer as it stumbled back, and sent her second dagger squelching into the heart of the demon. Jasmine ignored its dying cry as it exploded, and retrieved her fallen blade. Clary.
The redhead was still frozen, apparently in a state of shock. She was watching Jace and Alec fling around a seraph blade as if it were a frisbee, working effortlessly in tandem to take down a group of demons.
That must have been enough for the girl. She was off like a shot, zipping around the shadowhunters and narrowly avoiding the few remaining demons. Jasmine was frankly surprised that she hadn't ran off earlier.
Once the rest of the dwindling demons were vanquished, the Lightwood siblings bounded towards Jace and Jasmine, disapproval written plainly on the male's features. The fair-haired shadowhunter had an inkling. Most likely, his disgruntled attitude revolved around a certain 'mundane' who had witnessed - and been at the forefront of - their little demon fight. He seemed the type to plan every miniscule aspect of a mission... and also the type to throw a tantrum if reality deviates from his perfectly calculated scenario.
"What was that?" Alec demanded, gesturing towards the curtains that still rustled with Clary's hasty escape. His eyes flicked between Jace and Jasmine with an accusatory glint. He was quite a detective; deducing that the pair of them had willed the mundane into existence.
Jace glanced at Jasmine, eyebrows raised, and huffed out a laugh with a shake of his head, whilst she just stared at Alec in disbelief.
"That… was a girl, Alec. Surely you've seen a girl before? Your sister, Isabelle, is one," Jace replied off-handedly, faithfully playing the part of the blasé warrior. Annoyance was bubbling underneath his calm exterior, waiting to boil over.
Jasmine and Isabelle smirked, smothering chuckles that would have undoubtedly stroked Alec's ire. The Lightwood in question crossed his arms, his frown somehow deepening even more.
"Jace," he barked. "That mundane has just seen everything; she could expose us."
"Who would believe her?" Jasmine responded. "Mundanes are notorious for being purposefully ignorant. They would either think that she's crazy or that she's on drugs."
"That's a risk we can't take," Alec shot back. "The Clave needs to be informed."
Jace held up a hand, a thoughtful expression on his face. "Hold up, Alec," he placated. "Let's just find this girl and figure out how much she knows. There's no need to involve the Clave - we can handle this ourselves."
The Institute was alive with activity when they returned. Shadowhunters mulled around the corridors, discussing tactics with each other, whilst others tracked demons and fought each other vigorously in the training room. Jasmine spied her mother and Olivia chatting animatedly off to the side of the mission room, vaguely gesturing to a nearby computer screen as they talked.
Jace immediately set off and commandeered the closest computer screen, mumbling to himself and waving away the irritated complaints of the tall, wiry shadowhunter who had been using it beforehand. The display must have angered the already-moody Alec, and he stalked off in a sulk, with Isabelle trailing after him in an attempt to soothe his bruised soul. What a drama queen.
Jasmine ambled over to Madeleine and Olivia, peeking over their shoulders at the computer screen that they were examining. It showed a picture of a worn document with frayed and torn edges, and Jasmine's eyes scanned the text. Much of the writing was illegible; age and blood splatters having marred the inked words. Although she did recognise a few words in particular: 'Uprising' and 'Valentine' being the more prominent ones. A barely-audible gasp escaped her lips.
Her mother yelped in surprise when she felt her daughter's presence and hurriedly exited from the document. The sudden empty blackness of the screen might as well have been a punch to the face because it thoroughly confirmed what Jasmine had suspected for a while. Madeleine was definitely keeping something from her. Something about the Uprising?
Jasmine narrowed her eyes at the pair. Madeleine bit her lip, seeming to struggle for words, as Olivia coolly smiled at the younger shadowhunter. "What are you guys up to?"
"Just a bit of research," the leggy, strawberry-blonde replied off-handedly.
"To do with the Uprising?" Jasmine plainly heard the disbelief in her own voice, eyebrows raising at the women.
With softened features, Madeleine stepped towards her daughter, tutting as if she were a silly child. "My dear, why so suspicious? The Uprising is a pivotal part of Shadowhunter history - of course our research may overlap with the past."
The sickly-sweet voice of her mother heightened Jasmine's wariness even more - Madeleine was rarely placating, and she seldom kept secrets from her daughter. All in all, she was rather a terrible liar and, judging by the tight smile on Olivia's face, her parabatai had the same train of thought.
Jasmine blew out a huff and she crossed her arms in preparation to interrogate her mother further. Any information to do with the Circle and the Uprising were strictly taboo, shadowhunter history or not. Her mother knew better than to start digging into their shady and morally-ambiguous past and, undoubtedly, her curiosity would land her into trouble. So that begged the question of why; why would her usually-sensible mother want to unearth old secrets that were better left alone? As the mundanes say: let sleeping dogs lie.
A flurry of rapid movement caught her peripheral vision and she witnessed Jace stalk out of the hall hurriedly, his weapons swaying as he fled. Jasmine pointed a finger towards Madeleine and Olivia. "I'll talk to you guys later. Just," she broke off, a sigh rushing out of her, "be careful." Her platinum hair swished vivaciously as she followed after the determined shadowhunter.
Not turning back, she missed the worried glances exchanged between her mother and the parabatai.
"Jace!" She called out, her voice echoing through the ancient hallway.
He had made it to the grand entrance of the Institute, the many sconces on the stone walls illuminating his features with a fiery, amber light. The flickering flames reflected off of his molten-gold eyes, the embers in his bright irises burning hotly.
"I've found her," he smugly informed Jasmine as she came to a halt in front of him. "I'm going to collect her now."
The vanilla-haired woman laughed at his words. "She's not an object you can just steal, Jace," Jasmine reprimanded with a shake of her head. "She's a person with free-will and choices. We're going to talk to her, not collect her."
Jace waved her rebuke away with a dismissive flick of his hand. "Same difference," he said, rolling his eyes good-naturedly.
Rain poured down from the heavens and soaked the alleyway that apparently led towards Clary's residence, the sound of water droplets pelting against the cold concrete muffling their presence to weak, mundane ears. The alley was wide and dark, lined with tall brickwork and metal bars, a flurry of overgrown plants creeping through the cracks.
"How cosy," Jace muttered wryly.
The shadowhunters progressed carefully, shoulder to shoulder, as they made their way through the long passage, their footsteps squelching in synchronisation. Jasmine noticed when Jace saw the growing pool of blood - his steps became quicker; louder. He was about to barge his way through a large set of doors that led to the redhead's presumed apartment when Jasmine grabbed his shoulder.
"Be smart about this," she hissed, wrenching him back a pace.
He rounded to face her, eyebrows pulled together and jaw clenched harshly. "What are you doing?" Jace snapped.
"You don't know what's in there right now. Storming in there like a bull in a china shop might not be the best approach," Jasmine reasoned, glancing up at the building with caution.
The golden-eyed shadowhunter rolled his eyes and drew his seraph blade. "You sound just like Alec," he remarked, nudging past her and into the apartment.
Soaking wet and alone, Jasmine puffed out a heavy sigh and followed him inside. She took note of a huge pile of shattered glass in the entrance way and carefully navigated around the shards.
The place was a mess with a definite sign of struggle. The once-bright and floral wallpaper had been ripped and gouged at, burn marks and blood splatters dotted around the space like some sort of abstract art. Armchairs and heavy bookcases lay on their sides, overturned in a chaotic fashion that spoke volumes to the manic nature of the intruders - judging by the sheer scope of the damage, Jasmine assumed it must have been more than one attacker.
"This wasn't random," she murmured softly, watching as Jace skimmed his fingers along some exquisitely-painted tarot cards. The place was filled with artwork and antiquities - many of which were now damaged beyond repair - but Jasmine could tell that they were original pieces and suspected that they could have been worth quite a bit. The fact that these intruders hadn't attempted to pawn off the illustrations told her that it wasn't the work of common thieves. But someone with a very specific agenda.
A heavy thud resounded from the ceiling above them, followed by a series of roaring crashes and a single, shrill scream.
Jace was already racing up the stairs, his hulking footfalls masked by the raucous noises that thundered from the apartment above. Jasmine briskly followed after a quick glance around the space, freeing her seraph blade from the sheath on her belt.
"Adamiel," she murmured. The blinding, celestial light of the blade illuminated her face and highlighted her moonshine hair brilliantly, features set in a determined scowl. She followed the steps up to the apartment.
Jasmine emerged from the stairs to find Clary huddled against a pillar as she cringed away from a lithe, grey demon. Its jaws gnashed repeatedly, each bite landing closer and closer to the redhead.
Jasmine let out a sharp and piercing whistle. The Ravener whipped its mangled head to face the noise, and shrieked as she sent a well-aimed blade slicing through its head. Clary screamed, and screamed again as a sword impaled the tough, demonic flesh of the Ravener's chest. Clary was left dumbfounded at the appearance of Jace as the demon fizzled out of existence.
The blonde smirked at her gasp. "What, no 'thank you' for saving your life?"
Jasmine was starting to have a penchant for rolling her eyes. "Don't be a prick," she snapped. She reached an arm out for Clary to take and noticed when the redhead winced as she rose.
"Careful," Jace said, his words softer. "That demon got a piece of you."
Jasmine set to work to examine Clary as she spoke with Jace. "Demons," she shuttered out, her figure trembling with adrenaline. Or the aftereffects of a bite.
"Yeah. What do you think that miserable, disgusting thing was?" he retorted lightly.
A hue of pink flushed her cheeks and Jasmine pressed a hand against Clary's forehead. She was most definitely burning up. Well, that rules out embarrassment. "I-uh- I thought it was Dot."
"Nope," Jace replied. "It was a Ravener demon."
Seeing the befuddled expression on Clary's face, Jasmine elaborated. "It's a shapeshifter," she murmured. Sky-blue eyes scanned over the redhead's face, frowning at the dazed expression and sheen of sweat that coated her pallid skin. Clary shifted and groaned out as her right shoulder was jostled. Jasmine carefully pulled the fabric of her t-shirt to the side to examine the offending shoulder, hissing through her teeth quietly when she saw the deep gash that oozed a greenish substance.
"You're just saying words now," Clary breathed, her words garbled as she swayed on the spot.
"We should get her to the Institute," Jasmine muttered to Jace, her eyes fixed on the rapidly-deteriorating redhead.
"Wh-why is the room swirling?"
"Like, right now," she reiterated, grabbing onto Clary's waist when she stumbled forward clumsily. Her breathing escalated into rapsing pants and her lovely, emerald eyes rolled back into her head as she passed out.
Jace stepped forward. He reached out and effortlessly swung Clary into his arms, bridal-style. For a moment, he just stood there - in the shadows - looking down at her troubled features with something akin to worry.
Jasmine averted her eyes and decided to check the rest of the apartment for anything to indicate what had happened. She entered the kitchen first - the sleek, granite countertops were smeared with blood and ichor and the cabinets had been smashed-in, splinters of wood littering the tiled floor. Somehow a delicate, glass chandelier had escaped the wrath of the attack and remained dangling prettily in the centre of the room. Emeralds hung from the centrepiece of the chandelier, reflecting the moonlight that streamed in through the large windows.
Next was the living area, which hadn't fared any better. A pair of plush, orange sofas made up the heart of the room, though they had been destroyed beyond saving. Blankets were strewn across the floor and soft cushions had been gouged out, the innards ripped out and flung carelessly. Whoever - or whatever - did this had been looking for something quite specific. Jasmine doubted that it was the work of one Ravener demon.
"Jasmine! Let's go!"
She rolled her eyes. Finally, Jace had stopped staring down at Clary as if she would slip through his hands like smoke. Jasmine made her way back to the pair, only stopping when something familiar caught her eye. In the corner of the room, Clary's sketchbook poked out from the bag she had been carrying when Jasmine first met her.
"Jasmine!"
Cursing, she quickly heaved the bag over her shoulder and rushed out to meet Jace, the sketchbook full of Clary's mysteries safely tucked inside again.
Jace was looking at her expectantly, his arms still supporting the unconscious redhead, and she raised her eyebrows. "Well, come on," she huffed. "Let's not wait for the grass to grow." A shit-eating grin broke out on her face as she pushed past Jace and heard him scoff.
"Unbelievable," he muttered.
A/N: I am terrible. I know, I know. 3 months later and I finally have another chapter out. All I can say is uni is kicking my ass, but no more excuses! Please accept my apology:( Hope you all enjoy the new chapter. Let me know what you think. Much love x
