CHAPTER THREE

The light streamed through the window warming the room. The sun was barely up, Clary wished she could say the same. There she lay, in the middle of the room, tucked in her covers, eyes staring at the ceiling. As much as Clary wished she could blame her tiredness on getting home late - it took her much longer to get home after getting off the subway at the wrong stop last night - she knew it was because she stayed up all night thinking.

She came to the conclusion that magic is real, although she had no idea what that entailed. Also that her last name was possibly Fairchild at some point. That sounded a hell of a lot cooler than Fray so she was fine with that, but again had no idea what it meant. And lastly, in some way, her mom was involved in all of this. Whatever "this" was.

Jocelyn. A teen mom who got married too young and divorced too young. She lived a full life before most people had begun college. From the stories Clary remembered, her mom was engaged at 16, married by 17, pregnant by 18, and divorced by 19. Her parents disowned her when she decided to drop out of school and become a full time mom and wife. A sour subject so Clary never brought up extended family members. She had never even met her grandparents. Then after one year of marriage Luke and Jocelyn decided to call it quits. The divorce itself was sad but it was the custody battle that was messy. Luke begged for full custody but no judge would grant it to the father. And from there, Jocelyn got into her art, hung out with her best friend/neighbor Dot, and became an overprotective parent to her daughter. So where does the warlock fit in?

Clary sighed not for the first time trying to figure everything out. Her eyes roamed the painted ceiling not really focusing on anything. Jocelyn had painted a mural on the ceiling rather than the wall so Clary could look at it before she slept. It had been up there for as long as Clary could remember. It was a part of her home. A scene of beautiful mythical creatures in a city that looked like it was made of glass. Fairies, vampires, even werewolves. They all looked a little different than the typical storybook drawing but that's what made them so interesting. Clary was about to get out of bed giving up on sleep entirely, when she noticed someone in the painting she recognized. He was in the back, a little blurry, drinking what looked like tea next to a flamboyant man. Clary's mouth slowly opened as she stared at his very pale blue skin and kind eyes.

My God, how late is she going to stay in bed? Jace shook his head at the thought. He had arrived at the small two bedroom apartment around 5 in the morning and it was almost 7! She had been awake when he landed on the fire escape but the city was too noisy for her to notice anything. The plan was to use the element of surprise while she was sleeping to attack but that was not the situation he came to. She was lying in bed, her flaming red hair fanned on her pillow. She was mumbling to herself, occasionally tossing and turning. Obviously she was upset about something but Jace couldn't figure it out. He didn't want to figure it out. Actually, he wanted nothing to do with the abomination lying mere feet away from him but this was his assignment. She suddenly jerked upright in bed looking at the ceiling. Jace took this as his cue.

He burst through the window diving for the bed. Glass shattered over Clary's sketch cluttered desk. She could barely choke out the beginning of a scream before being yanked from her bed, thrown to the ground, and having the wind knocked out of her.

The boy was on top of her holding a blade to her neck. Clary's green eyes widened but she didn't move. She was more focused on the boy. The tattoo covered arms, golden hair, and burning eyes. She remembered exactly who he was.

"You're the guy from the stairwell." Jace glared in response having no interest in idle conversation. He jumped onto his feet, grabbed her shirt and threw her against her dresser. Clary yelped in pain but stayed upright. "Do you have something against me or do you always greet people by injuring them?"

"You are not a person you are a ... divault." He spat the last word at her, "Tell me where your maker is."

"What did you just call-" Before Clary could finish her sentence the door to her bedroom flew off the hinges slamming into Jace, making Clary scream in surprise. Jocelyn was standing at the door frame holding what looked to be a glowing pen.

"Come on Clary!" Clary was confused and injured but she didn't hesitate to flee the room and follow her mom out the apartment door. They were halfway down the stairwell when Jace caught up to them.

How anyone could be that fast, Clary didn't know. He grabbed a hold of Jocelyn's ponytail and yanked her back onto the stairs. She was sprawled out on the steps while his other hand had a blade at her throat.

"You will answer to the Clave Jocelyn Fairchild. Did you think you could hide your little experiment forever?"

Clary whirled around seeing her mom so close to death. The guy had crashed into her on the stairs. He had jumped through her window. It was Clary that he wanted for reasons only God knew. Her mom was just possible collateral damage. But not if Clary could help it.

"No! Please! Take me please! Leave my mother alone!" For the first time since she met him Jace didn't look angry. He looked up at her with confusion in his eyes. His focus had shifted for a second but that was all Jocelyn needed.

Jocelyn twisted his arm until a cracking sound echoed through the hall. The blade fell out of his hand as she grabbed him by the shoulder and through him over her body. He flew down the staircase right into Clary. They tumbled down the steps in a tangle of limbs. As Clary landed she heard another loud crack in her head and started feeling dizzy. From her slanted point of view she saw her mother run down the rest of the steps towards Dot's apartment. Dot was waiting with her door open, a strong blue light illuminating inside. "Mom?" Clary coughed out. Jocelyn paused when she heard Clary's voice and came running to her. Jace was knocked out sprawled on top of Clary but he was slowly coming to.

"I'm sorry Clary. Once you find yourself, come find me." She kissed Clary's forehead, and ran back to the blue light. Dot's face contorted in pain but shut the door as soon as Jocelyn passed through it.

Before Clary could gather her thoughts over what had just happened the blonde shot up and ran past her towards the door. He tried slamming it open but it didn't budge. He whipped out a glowing pen similar to her mothers and drew something on the door. It disappeared as it was being written making the boy bang the door in anger. Clary slowly started getting up while he still faced the door. Her body had run out of adrenaline and was aching horribly. But she was still hyper aware of the danger she was in. The door wasn't more than five feet from her she could get there before he could right? From there she could go to Luke's but Simon's was closer. Everything would be fine once she was with someone she trusted.

She hadn't taken more than half a step when he whirled around.

"You." So much hatred in one little word. "Where did she go? WHERE DID SHE GO?" Clary jumped back as his voice filled the empty building. She cursed herself silently for being afraid.

How dare he question her. Why should she be the one planning her escape? They were practically the same age. Who was this boy that made her mother run to Dot? And more importantly, run away from her.

"Who are you to ask? The least you owe me is your name." Jace's eyes widened in shock.

"Owe you? I owe you? You're lucky I haven't killed you yet. And the only reason I haven't is for you to answer the question. Where did she go?" Clary was getting mad now.

"You call this lucky? You have attacked me twice now for no good reason, chased my mother away, and threatened me by ... blade point." Jace only narrowed his eyes in response so Clary started rambling. "I would have said gun point but you know, you have a blade...instead." She looked at the ground, forever the awkward girl apparently no matter the situation. After a moment of silence Jace responded in his normal tone,

"What's a gun?" Clary bursted into laughter. After meeting his gaze to see he was serious she laughed even more. Jace just stared at the thing looking more like a girl to him than ever before. Hodge had informed him of her...condition. Which is why he knew the mission was incredibly important and imparitevely secret. But as the redhead covered in bruises, leaned against the wall, laughing so hard she clutched her stomach he didn't sense she was dangerous at all. The opposite actually, she looked fragile.

"I'm sorry I just wasn't expecting that." Clary was finally getting a hold of herself. "Actually the last few days have exceeded any expectations." She stopped laughing completely lost in thought, brows furrowing in concern. Jace sheathed his blade and made a cautious step towards her.

"You don't know what you are, do you little girl?" Clary met his eyes with attitude.

"My name is not little girl." Her face fell. "But no. I'm starting to think I have no idea who I am."