Me: Thank you to all who reviewed! It means so much!
Disclaimer: I own Moriah and Celeste. Nothing else.
…
Chapter 8: More Dreams and Worries
Jace fell back against a tree trunk, allowing himself a moment to rest and catch his breath. It had been some moments since he had heard anyone in pursuit. He must've lost them all.
Relief flooded through him. He slid to the forest floor, holding his daughter against his chest. Once seated, he rested her on his knees and moved the blanket away from her face. Through all the running she had not made a sound, and it was only her quiet inhales of breath that let him know she was okay.
His baby girl blinked her large black eyes at him. Jace realized this was the first time he was really getting to hold her, getting to take in the moment and relish in the fact that this kid was his. She was his own flesh and blood. His and Clary's.
Clary.
Jace had to fight down the fear and terror inside him. He had had to leave, he knew that. He had had to get the baby. He would find a way to get help and find a way back to Clary. He would. He would.
Who is going to help us?
The baby reached out, wrapping her hand around his finger. Jace realized with stark clarity that black eyed demon or not, he loved this child. She was his and he didn't give a damn what anyone said.
But was anyone else going to feel the same? How was he supposed to get help to get Clary if doing so meant putting their child in danger?
Jace closed his eyes against his thoughts. One thing at a time. What mattered now was finding some semblance of safety for his baby. He carefully got to his feet again, cradling the baby in the crook of his arms.
He didn't know how long he walked, how many miles of fairy forest he went through before he heard noises. Something was following him. Someone was on his trail.
He knew this and yet was taken aback in surprise when the person finally showed themselves to him. ''Well,'' the dirty blond haired girl with the vague stare and look said upon seeing him. ''I certainly didn't expect to ever meet you.''
Jace's first instinct was to fight her. It was only because he was unarmed and sick and holding a sick child that he didn't. He thanked the Angels later for it, for he certainly didn't know how he ever would've survived without Celeste.
Jace woke up with a start. It took him a moment to remember he was not in the woods, but home in his room. Clary. He glanced next to him only to remember she wasn't with him, but in the Infirmary.
He wasn't alone, however. Moriah was next to him, leaning against his legs. She turned to look at him. ''Please tell me you haven't been up this whole time.''
She cocked her head at him. Jace gave a sigh, sitting up and stroking her cheek. He brushed his thumb against the shadow under one eye. ''Does Alec need to lecture you too?''
Moriah made a noise in her throat. She reached for him and Jace outstretched his arms. She made herself comfortable in his lap and discovered a lose thread on his t-shirt hem and began to twist it on her finger.
Jace wrapped his arms around her, his eyes going to the clock. It was early evening. He figured he must've slept for about forty minutes. Practically a new high score for him.
There was a knot in his stomach. Anxiety built up in him as he wondered about Clary and if anything had changed. He doubted it, but still. He needed to be in the room. He needed to be by her side.
'Clary waking up is not dependent on whether you are in the room or not,' Alec's voice rang in his ears. Jace pushed the thought aside. Almost as if he were untangling his own thoughts, he started picking at Moriah's hair, brushing the curls out with his fingers. ''God, you need a shower,'' he mused as oil came onto his hands. He held her closer and kissed her check. ''How about we get washed up, you eat something, and then we drive Alec nuts with the knowledge that we were back in an hour, 'on the dot'?''
Moriah twisted her head to look at him. She made a gurgling noise. ''Atta girl.''
…
''Hush little baby, don't you cry. the Devil's gonna sing you a lullaby. And if the lullaby don't work, the Devil's gonna buy you a billy goat…''
Clary wrapped her arms around herself, trying desperately to warm herself up. Pain from her stomach washed over her, but even it wasn't as bad as hearing Aster's voice as he spoke and sang softly to the little girl he had pried from her arms. And it was nothing compared to the contrast of his voice and the indecipherable sounds from whatever the hell he was doing to her.
No. Clary fought the memory away, blocking out the noises and blows. Fear was bubbling in her chest. I won't think of this. I won't.
She refused to open her eyes until she felt the surroundings fade away. When she finally did risk opening them again, she was outside another house. Idris again, but this house was different, she thought. It was hard to tell in the evening light.
Two people stood outside the front door. ''…'And all of Downworld was scared of the house','' Cèline Herondale narrated. '' 'Shadowhunters go in, but they never come out! And'- okay,'' she interrupted herself, turning to her companion. ''See, the whole point of me telling you about how I would tell myself stories to make going to the Verlac's house easier was to point out the fact that going to the Verlac's house was never easy. It was always the same, soul sucking experience and eventually, I just had to accept that and gnaw off the bear trap.''
''Bear trap?'' her companion repeated in confusion. He turned away from the front door to
look at her. Clary saw him and realized he could only be Stephen Herondale. ''What do you mean 'bear trap' ?''
''You know, one of those traps where it latches onto the animal's leg and rather than get caught the animal gnaws it's leg off?''
''That's what you associate going to my parents' house with?''
Cèline looked confused. ''Are you telling me you don't?''
''Of course not. I'm just glad to hear you say it. For a while there I was afraid I had mislead you.''
Silence lapsed over them as they stared at the front door. ''Please let's get this over with,'' Cèline said, taking a step froward. Stephen held her back.
''Hang on.'' He scoffed and gestured around. ''We- we can still leave.''
''They know where we live.''
''We can join witness protection. Change our identities and disappear off the face of the earth.''
Cèline sighed. ''We have to tell them eventually.''
''I don't see why,'' Stephen insisted. ''You're small. You're skinny. You can hide it.''
''In my ninth month?''
''We'll tell them you have a tumor,'' he suggested. ''And you will have to go off and have surgery- which will end in tragedy- and I will be so torn up that I will flee the country and we will never have to see them again!''
Cèline pointed at him. ''That- is not the worst idea you've ever had.''
Stephen sighed. He glared at the door again. ''I guess we have to go in.''
''And now we've entered the acceptance stage.''
''So, where do you want to be standing when I tell them? In Marcus' silent glare line of fire or Imogen's verbal one?''
Cèline blinked innocently. ''I'll be standing by the window, gnawing my leg off.''
Hurt rippled across Stephen's face. ''You cannot climb out the window and leave me to tell them on my own.''
''Survival instinct, babe.''
''You are cold and cruel.''
''I have a t-shirt stating something to a similar effect.''
The voices faded away, as did the scene and night. Another scene unfolded in it's place, one Clary had mixed feelings about.
Her feelings were mixed because in this memory she still had pain. Pain in her stomach from her half hearted healing runes. Nevertheless, she continued to walk with her cloak pulled over her head down the streets of Naranth. Every moment her ears were pricked for any noise that could mean discover or recognition. Her heart seemed to be permanently lodged in her throat.
But still she went on. Down one dirty street and then another. She dared not ask for directions. Over and over again in her head she remembered the instructions Celeste had given her. Building in the middle. Second floor hallway. Number 23.
Clary could barely resist crying when she finally found the building. Up the stairs she trudged, reminding herself that each tired step was one closer to Jace and her daughter. Number 23. Number 23.
And then she was at the door. She had just raised her hand to knock when it opened.
And Jace was in front of her. Her Jace. He had his angry hunting face on but upon seeing her it changed to an expression of relief. ''Clary.''
''Hey.'' He dropped whatever weapon he had been wielding and hugged her. Clary could've died from happiness.
Near death she felt, she realized, as the pain in her body refused to be ignored. Her legs started to give out but Jace realized it and helped her inside the apartment.
She was aware Celeste was there too. With their help, she was able to apply proper healing runes to her wounds. She must've drifted off then, because next thing she knew she was lying in a bed, watching Jace cradle a little bundle in his arms.
…
Jonathan had only meant to go to the Institute to ask Max a favor. But upon entering, he had run into Jace and Alec, whom the latter of which had run into some officials from Idris. When they arrived and how they arrived so quickly was a mystery to Jonathan, but apparently they were here and they wanted to see Jace.
Jonathan didn't know the details of why officials were here, but he had an educated guess or two. And from those he thought it was probably best they didn't come across Moriah's path. ''You want me to take her?''
The offer was made before Jonathan even realized it. He was a little surprised at himself, but was even more surprised when Jace nodded. ''Yeah. Thanks.''
He dropped Moriah's hand and gently pushed her forward, telling her to go with him. She obeyed, with only a side eyed glance at Jonathan to make clear her thoughts on this arrangement. Jace and Alec turned to go, but not before Jonathan caught Alec's expression. He wasn't good at reading emotions, but there were only a few logically reactions to your brother/parabati letting a former demon who tried to kill and burn the world down watch your child. And they were all called 'what the actual fuck'.
So that was how Jonathan ended up in the kitchen, sighing in frustration at the little girl in front of him. He leaned forward, his hands on the counter on which he placed her. ''C'mon, Moriah,'' he prompted. ''Pick something to eat.''
Moriah only stared blankly at him. Her blonde hair was loose around her shoulders, and the shadows under her eyes matched her eye color perfectly. Even as she was sitting up on the counter, she was swaying a little. She was utterly exhausted.
Jonathan tilted his head as he looked at her. She was no doubt refusing to eat or sleep in order to spend her days sitting by her mother's bedside, acting a little too much like Jace in that regard. But Jace was human; eventually, he would eat out of necessity and his body would force him to sleep. But Moriah wouldn't. Her demon blood would carry her through and help her ignore all those pesky human needs until she got what she wanted. Namely, until Clary woke up.
But Moriah wasn't all demon. Jonathan didn't know what exactly she was, only that she definitely wasn't quite as he had been. Maybe the demon blood that ran through her veins came from a lesser demon, or maybe there was another aspect to her. Whatever the case, Jonathan was pretty certain young as she was, she would not survive much longer going on as she had.
As she was two however, her reasoning skills were not the greatest. He had no doubt she understood them when they talked to her, but if there was only some way to get her to fully comprehend…
Hesitantly, Jonathan did something he told himself he would never do again. He spoke in Demonic.
It was a strange combination of sounds, involving clicks of the tongue and hissing. Now that he was fully human, Jonathan could appreciate the ugliness of it. He was the one speaking it and yet goosebumps appeared on his arms. It was a horrible language.
But Moriah straightened up upon hearing it. She gave almost a small inkling of a smile and replied back to him perfectly.
Jonathan scoffed at her. ''Was that so hard?'' he murmured, handing her her requested apple. ''Eat all of it, got it, punk?''
''What was that?'' Came a voice from the doorway. Jonathan looked up sharply and felt his heart sink a little. He hadn't even known Jocelyn was here. ''What did you just say to her?''
He straightened up. ''Nothing,'' he lied.
Jocelyn looked pale. Jonathan hated reading expressions, but he didn't need to guess at what she was thinking. She was remembering the times she had heard him speak that language before. Those were not pleasant memories for either of them. ''She needed to eat,'' he defended himself. ''Now she's eating.''
''Does Jace know you speak that to her?'' Jocelyn asked. ''Does Clary?''
''No.'' Jonathan clenched his fists. ''Because there's nothing to tell. This is the first time I did.''
''I don't believe that.''
''Well, I don't give a crap.'' Jonathan glared at her. ''She's tired and hasn't eaten in days. So yeah, I asked her what she would eat, and she answered. I would've done an interpretive dance if I thought she'd reply to that. You want to tell Jace I spoke Demonic to his child? Go ahead.'' Jonathan picked Moriah off the counter. ''Be sure to add that she finally ate something.''
He brushed past her with indifference, ignoring the feeling that always rose in his chest when they had to cross paths. It was anger and sadness and just plain annoyance. He hated her and she hated him. It was as simple as that.
…
Jace heard the voices in the hall outside the Infirmary first. He was disappointed to recognize one. ''Whitesnake?'' Alec gave a sad nod. ''Doesn't he have anything better to do?''
''Than his job?'' Alec asked hesitantly.
''Everyone's a worker bee,'' Jace muttered.
They turned the corner and there was Geoffrey Whitesnake, along with Jia Penhallow and Maryse and Robert. If seeing the Consul herself wasn't bad enough, Maryse was holding her head and Robert looked only a few steps away from banging his head against a wall. Or hopefully someone else's.
''Jace,'' Jia greeted him. Geoffrey gave a stiff greeting. ''Good. We're glad you can join us.''
Jace thought of several sarcastic remarks. But before he could open his mouth and say one, Alec discreetly stepped on his foot. Shame he knew him so well. ''What is this about?''
''We were hoping you would give us your account of this hunt that led to Clarissa Fray's injury,'' Geoffrey explained. He gave Alec a pointed look. ''Just you.''
Alec blinked. ''What your tone, Geoffrey,'' Robert said icily.
''It's fine,'' Alec assured him. ''I have to get home to Magnus and the boys anyway.'' Alec turned away from the officials to give his mother a kiss on the cheek. ''See you. Don't forget to breath,'' Jace heard him add sarcastically under his breath to her. Maryse gave him a look.
Alec walked away and they were left in the hallway. ''Jace?'' Jia prompted. ''If you please?''
Jace, suspicious and weary, told her everything. 'Everything' being the legal, no-one-gets-in-trouble version.
Jia frowned as he finished. ''There are somethings I don't understand, Jace. What led to this hunt?''
''Well long ago, Jonathan Shadowhunter-''
''Jace,'' both Maryse and Robert warned in unison. Jace cleared his throat.
''There have been some strange demons lurking around for a while, not to mention whatever low lives inhabitant the Underworld. It was just a patrol.''
''Alright,'' Jia accepted. ''But this fairy? How did he know you would be there?''
Jace spread his hands in innocence. He wasn't about to betray Celeste. ''He followed us? We accidentally stumbled across his hideout? I don't know.'' He scoffed. ''Believe me, it wasn't intentional.''
There was some sympathy in Jia's face. Good. Maybe she would drop this line of questioning. ''Jace, because of Clarissa's condition, the Inquest has been pushed back.''
''Okay.'' The Inquest was the furthest thing from Jace's mind at the moment.
''It has been pushed back,'' Jia continued, ''because it doest make sense to have it when the child's guardian can't testify. But-''
''Hang on,'' Jace cut her off. ''It makes sense not to have it because Clary's testimony is important, not because she's Moriah's guardian. She's only one of Moriah's guardians. I'm still here.''
''Yes.'' There was something in Jia's tone that made Jace suspicious. ''In any case, I want you to understand that this decision has not pleased many people.''
''Of course it doesn't,'' Maryse mumbled, echoing Jace's own sentiments.
''In many people's point of view,'' Jia said. ''Putting off the Inquest is unsafe, and they view Clarissa's accident as…convenient.''
''Convenient?'' Jace repeated. ''What the hell does that mean?''
''It means people think Clarissa went and put herself in a coma for fun,'' Robert explained to him. ''Because nothing is more useful than risking her goddamn life.''
''Robert,'' Jia warned. ''Please.''
''Oh, you please,'' Maryse interjected. ''You come here and you tell us these stupid accusations-''
''I wanted you informed.''
''Bull! You wanted to see if Clarissa was really injured!''
''No!''
The adults kept shouting at each other, and Jace felt very strange watching it. His mind was slower than Maryse's and Robert's putting all the pieces of this visit together, and watching them fight made him even sicker. People thought Clary's injury was a ploy to get more time to prepare for the Inquest, or perhaps not have it at all. He was glad Robert and Maryse were yelling. He feared if they hadn't, he wouldn't be so distracted and have succeeded in beating up the Consul for even saying such a thing.
Jace was walking away before he even realized it. He didn't know where he was walking to, only that he needed to move and not think about all the variables that were cropping up in his life right now.
''Jace Herondale?''
It took every last ounce of self control in Jace to not simply give Geoffrey the bird and ignore him. He turned slowly and allowed the man to catch up. ''What?''
Geoffrey panted for breath. ''I wish you to understand,'' he said simply. ''That I do not at all hold those views that Consul Penhallow reports.''
Suspicion rose in Jace. ''Okay?''
''It is not at all fair,'' Geoffrey went on. ''That all this is laid at your door. After all, it is not like you chose to have a- well, have the child turn out like it did.''
Jace wasn't sure what Geoffrey's angle was, only that it most definitely couldn't be the 180 his words were trying to paint. ''And?''
''You are a good Shadowhunter. One who may be a little headstrong at times, but one who always gets the job done. For is it not the job that is most important? Protecting the world? Saving it? All else comes afterward. Our own wants, our own needs, our own families.'' Geoffrey shook his head. ''It would be entirely understandable if you said, that is, if you have realized that your job and family life have suddenly and inexplicably crossed wires.''
Words failed Jace and all he could do was stare as Geoffrey went on. ''There is no shame in coming to that conclusion. Sometimes a warrior must make the hard choice. The choice to do the right thing, the thing mundane literature constantly says the converse of; pick the world over your family. 'The Law is Hard, But it is the Law.''
Jace had heard the expression 'seeing red', but he was pretty sure he had never heard anyone saying they could taste red. Anger and horror filled him. The fact that anyone could look at him, even a snake like Geoffrey, and think he would believe any of the crap he was spouting made him want to throw up.
It took him several moments to find his voice. ''I don't know what kind of ass backward father you were,'' he said in a low tone, ''But I am one who realizes that my family is the world. They are the world to me and they are in the world. Saving my family is saving the world, and vice versa. Now, if you will excuse me, my daughter is waiting for me.''
He turned on his heel and walked away, Geoffrey's sincere voice and the arguing of Maryse and Robert and Jia all playing like an out of tune orchestra in his ears. He couldn't believe this. He couldn't believe this.
No, he realized as he leaned against a wall in a hallway far away from them all. He could believe it. This is exactly what he had feared happening when he first found Moriah and fled with her. This was the beginning, and worse was to come.
….
Jonathan sat in the library, Moriah on the window seat next to him. She turned her half eaten apple over in her hands before handing it to him. ''Seriously? You're not going to finish that?''
She stared at him. He stared back. She seemingly got tired of waiting for him and just placed the apple beside him. She turned away. ''Brat.''
Moriah ignored him. She kicked her feet slightly and cast her glance around the library. Quite suddenly she went very still, her head snapping to the direction of the door. Jonathan knew why because he could hear it too. Someone approaching.
Jace entered the library. ''There you are.''
Jonathan noticed his demeanor. Eyes hard, face weary yet posture stiff. ''Nice social interaction?''
Jace just shook his head. He came closer, his eyes meeting Moriah's as she stared at him from her seat. She hopped down and ran over to him, her arms up in demand to be held.
Jace obliged her, picking her up and holding her against him. Jonathan could see him sigh at the dark circles under her eyes. ''Why won't you sleep?'' He muttered to her. Moriah offered no reply.
''She doesn't sleep?'' Jonathan asked curiously from the windowsill. ''At all?''
''Not since Clary got hurt,'' Jace answered offhandedly. Jonathan wasn't sure how to feel about his prediction being right. He watched Jace as he brushed some hair away from Moriah's face. ''It's literally been days since she closed her eyes.''
''Huh.''
Jace looked over at him, eyes narrow. ''You don't sound surprised.''
''Why would I be?''
''She's two and hasn't slept in days. You can only go 11 days without sleep before your brain starts to shut down.''
''Humans can only go 11 days without sleep,'' Jonathan corrected him. ''She's not human.''
''She was sleeping regularly before,'' Jace said. His tone suggested he was irritated.
''She knows something's wrong with Clary. She doesn't want to sleep without her.''
''How would you know?''
''It's how I was.'' At Jace's raised eyebrow, Jonathan shrugged. ''If Valentine wasn't at the cabin, I wouldn't sleep.''
''Why?'' Jace blinked. ''Were you…worried for him?''
Jonathan scoffed. ''God no, it was much more selfish than that. I just kept wondering if he was ever coming back.''
Jace looked back at his daughter, who was busy staring at him, watching as he talked. ''And you think that's why she won't sleep? Because she's waiting for Clary to 'come back'?''
''Aren't we all?'' Jonathan muttered. He got up then, walking past Jace to the door.
''What was the longest you went without sleep?'' Jace asked abruptly.
Jonathan paused with his hand on the knob. He looked wordlessly at Moriah, who's black eyes were fixed on him, watching him leave. ''Clary will wake up before than,'' was all he said before leaving.
Once in the hall, Jonathan traipsed off to find Max. There was no point in dwelling on Moriah, or dwelling on Clary. He had a plan of action and the best thing he could do was try and execute it.
He found Max in the piano room, sitting cross legged on the floor with a demonology textbook spread out in front of him and papers scattered around. His glasses were falling off his face from leaning over the pages. He noticed Jonathan halfway through scribbling a note. ''Why are you here again?''
''I followed the love.'' Jonathan stood over Max. His eyes caught some of his notes. ''God, Shaodwhunters get so much wrong. I pity the fool who tries to take on a Deverok with that information.''
Max sat up and frowned at his notes. ''There's an error in the text?''
''No, the text is the error.'' Jonathan shook his head. ''Stupid humans, trying to categorize everything and put it all in boxes.''
''You know, you're human now.''
''How disgusting.''
''Why are you here?'' Max asked his original question again. ''I'm kinda busy.''
''Need a favor,'' Jonathan said, specifically picking this phrasing to annoy Max. He was pleased to see he succeeded.
''Sure, Max is only good when someone needs something. Am I needed to baby sit again?''
Jonathan thought for a moment. ''That is a good way to summarize how it feels to hunt with Celeste.''
''Who's Celeste?''
''You want to come on a potentially dangerous mission to perhaps get the cure Clary needs, fully knowing we could fail and possibly get in much trouble with your parents and the Clave at large?''
Max blinked. ''Do I get to fight?''
''With a big ass sword.''
Max gave an immature smile only a thirteen year old could pull off in the face of danger. He slammed his textbook shut. ''When do we leave?''
…
Clary was back in the apartment. Back when Jace had gone out to scout. Back waiting for Celeste to return from meeting up with Jonathan. Back in those horrible moments before everything went wrong.
She held Moriah close to her, anxiety poking at her and making it hard to breath. If the whispers they had been hearing were true, fairies from the Underworld were in Naranth. They could be here at this very moment. They could find the apartment. And was it right to get Jonathan involved? Surely despite their dislike of him, he helped her family look for her and Jace? They could be with him, they might find them. Part of Clary longed for her family. The other part went cold at the thought of seeing them.
She sat down on the bed, adjusting Moriah in her lap. What would they say about her? What would they do?
What is mom going to say?
Clary remembered this moment. It was the moment she replayed over and over again in her head after they had come home. The moment she decided to lead the fairies off the trail and leave the apartment. She thought she could catch up with Jace, trail back to the apartment and get Moriah, and flee to somewhere else.
She didn't know Jace had already found Renage. She didn't know Luke, her mother, Magnus, Alec, Isabelle and Simon were in the town. She didn't know that everything from distracting Jace and allowing Celeste to meet up with Jonathan and Magnus had all been a perfectly orchestrated window of opportunity for the fairies to sweep in and take Moriah.
Clary would forever hate herself for that moment. She had thought it was safer to leave Moriah behind, knowing that according to plan, Celeste was to be back soon. She had been stupid. She had been foolish. She had failed.
No. Clary had to fight to clear her head. This moment is over. Moriah is safe. I need to get to her.
She closed her eyes, blocking the room out and trying to make it all fade away. Something in her chest tightened, and she could hear that laughter again. Aster's laughter.
''You wish to see something different?'' he asked her. ''Alight then. I'll show you something different.''
Clary was in a library. Moonlight filtered in through the windows. On the floor, leaning against a book case, was Cèline Herondale.
She was taking gasping, painful breathes. Her hand was clenched on something sticking out of her stomach. Clary wanted to throw up when she saw what it was. A dagger.
Blood was covering her and pooling on the floor. And yet she laughed. ''We- we could've been normal,'' she said. She was looking in the direction of the window, and Clary realized they weren't alone in the room. ''All of us. We could've led normal lives.''
Valentine Morgenstern looked at her. Clary couldn't explain the expression his face. ''It didn't have to be a lie,'' Cèline continued. ''Reforming the Clave, uniting Downworlders and Shadowhunters. It could've been true. It could've been- been good.''
She laughed again. ''Does it haunt you? Because it should. It should haunt you. I hope it haunts you you lying, cheating, manipulative bastard.''
Valentine gave a slow shake of his head. ''I never lied,'' he told her. ''Not to you. Never to you. You were- are- exceptional.'' He paused briefly before adding, ''even in death, you are exceptional.''
He walked closer to her until he was standing over her. ''Most people have only one life to give to their cause. But you… You have two.''
Cèline looked at him with confusion. It was replaced with horror as his meaning became clear. ''No. No.''
''You need to understand,'' Valentine said, his tone almost resembling something like remorse. ''That I never intended this to be your end. I never…I didn't want this.''
Cèline leaned back against the bookshelf, recoiling away from him. ''Stephen!'' she shouted. ''Stephen!''
Valentine shook his head sadly. ''There's no one coming for you, Cèline,'' he told her. ''In the end, we are truly alone.''
He got to his knees next to her. ''Please,'' said Cèline. ''You- you can't. You can't.''
Clary watched as Valentine looked at her. For a moment, she thought maybe he would stop. He would stand up and turn around and leave the girl alone. He gave a small shake of his head. ''Ave atque vale, Cèline Montèclaire.''
He reached for the dagger. Clary clamped her hands over her ears as Cèline screamed. Not in terror or fear, but in pure, pure pain.
Clary fell to the floor, trying to block out the noise. She curled in on herself. ''Stop!'' she sobbed. ''Make it stop!''
'''There was once a boy,'' Aster's voice mused. ''Who believed he had been cursed. That all those he loved would fall dead for their devotion. It turned out not to be the case, but I don't know.'' Cèline's screams faded out. ''I think there might be some truth to it.''
Clary risked lowering her hands. Valentine and Cèline were gone. She was back in the apartment, but still she was not alone. Aster was sitting on the bed, looking fondly at baby Moriah, nestled in a blanket beside him.
''It would make sense,'' Aster went on. ''Why all the people who have loved a Herondale met such sad ends. Cèline, Amatis, and- oh, what was the girl's name? The one who gave her baby to Caterina?''
''What are you talking about?'' Clary demanded.
''Never mind.'' Aster waved the matter aside. He turned to her. ''The point is, Clarissa, that you are no different. Your story will end such as theirs'. You will die with a broken heart.''
Clary gritted her teeth. ''Maybe,'' she said, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of an argument. ''But I certainly won't die by your hand.''
Aster's eyes gleamed. He leaned forward on his knees. ''Are you sure about that?''
…
Me: Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed. If you have a moment, please leave a review!
Happy Writing!
