Valentine looked surprised. "You broke them?" Clearly, this was not the response he had been expecting. He had thought for sure that Jace would only glare at him for calling him 'little angel boy', which was Jonathan's nickname for him when they were fighting, which was constantly. Valentine didn't like the fact that Jace had the ability to surprise him. It made him feel vulnerable; an emotion that he was not accustomed to feeling, especially from a rebellious seventeen year old boy.

His son stared back at him, a large hand print appearing on his cheek like a blush.

"Yes, Father, I broke them. Does that shock you?" he said while narrowing his eyes mockingly. Valentine felt his face becoming hard like stone. Normally, Jace didn't speak to him like this, he must really be angry. Valentine's eyes lit maliciously.

"Yes. That does shock me. How did you break your wings then?" Jace swallowed, not sure how far he should push this. His father saw him hesitate. "Exactly. Your innocence is still in tact, just as I expected." he said patronizingly. "Since you're so soft at heart, you wouldn't mind telling me where you learned how to lie so well? Or would you rather confide your deepest secrets and feelings to the horses?"

Jace glared at him. He couldn't stand it when Valentine talked down to him like that. "I learned it from you of course. All you ever do is lie to me. Is it really so surprising that I sometimes pick up some of your nastier traits and habits?" Valentine looked at him with a cold and calculating look.

"And what other 'nasty traits and habits' have you picked up from me?" he took a step towards Jace, his expensive shoes crunching over hay. Jace remained silent, knowing now that he had gone too far.

"For instance…" Valentine looked at Jace again, not wanting to miss the boy's reaction. "Have you picked up my little habit of killing without remorse?" Jace's eyes widened fractionally.

"No. I haven't." Jace said quietly. A haunted smile appeared on Valentine's face as he took two more slow steps towards his son.

"Oh but you should…it's such a useful trait to have." Valentine whispered. Jace swallowed and tried to ignore the creeping sensation that was running up his spine. He really wished Valentine would quit smiling at him like that. "Maybe I should kill in front of you more often. That way you could keep mimicking me, like a good soldier." he said as he drew a wicked looking dagger out of his jacket. Jace wanted so badly to step away from him.

"I've told you before. I'm not your mindless little soldier." Jace said with false bravado.

"Oh really?" Valentine ran his fingertips over the edge of the dagger and continued to stare at Jace. "So if I told you to take this blade…you wouldn't? You would disobey me?" The animals fell silent again. At the back of his mind, Jace wished he hadn't come to the barn tonight. He felt like something terrible was about to happen.

Sweat began to bead at Jace's temples as he reached out his hand for the blade. A sinister grin curved his father's mouth. Jace was almost as easy to read as Jonathan. He didn't want to deliberately disobey his father…he wasn't that stupid. Jace took the dagger hilt first and looked down at it. Valentine watched him with a cold stare.

"Now I want you to take that blade that you hold," he said gently, almost as if he were reading Jace a lullaby, "And kill Jonathan's horse with it." Horror shattered through Jace, more sharp than jagged glass, and he stared up at his father with terrified eyes.

"You can't be serious." his voice came out as a whisper.

"Do I look serious?"

Silence resounded throughout the barn. Jace could only hear the frantic pounding of his heart. This can't be happening…Jace begged himself to wake up. A small gasp escaped his lips as he realized there was no easy way out of this situation. Valentine watched his son's face with a malicious look on his own. "Either you put the beast down…or I will."

Jace's hand tightened on the hilt of the dagger and tears blurred his vision. He would have to do it. There was no way that he would let that man take her life. At least if he did it…it would be quick and she wouldn't be frightened because…she trusted him.

"I'm waiting, little angel boy. Make your choice." Valentine crossed his arms and a truly evil grin split his face as he saw Jace's eyes becoming glassy with his unshed tears.

"I hate you." Jace said through his teeth, anger making his eyes darken like a demon's. Before his father could reply, Jace spun around and strode to the gate before his fleeting courage abandoned him. He stuck the blade between his teeth and climbed over, praying to the Angel that Jonathan's horse wouldn't run from him so he could get it over with quickly.

She looked up at him cautiously as he approached, her eyes strangely blank. Jace put his hand on her face and tried to emit soothing feelings. He gripped the blade in his left hand and raised it, feeling the muscles in his bicep tightening. Jace took a silent breath and refused to think about the horrible pain she was about to feel at the hands of the boy she had made the grave mistake of trusting.

After she had stopped kicking her legs and her voice was gone along with her life, Jace pulled the blade out of the black mare's neck. He stood gracefully, his face blank and his eyes unblinking, and brushed the dirt from the knees of his jeans. He felt numb with shock. Somehow he managed to climb back over the gate without falling. Valentine moved out of his way, his face unreadable.

"I didn't think you had it in you, Jace." he said proudly. Jace gripped the handle of the bloody dagger tighter, and turned to look at him. He had difficulty stopping the image of himself running at his father and slitting his throat with it. Valentine seemed to sense that Jace wanted to do exactly that because he laughed. "Don't even think about it. It would only end badly for you." he said coldly, his eyes glimmering with challenge. Jace lowered the blade, feeling sick.

"So did I pass your test, Father?" Jace asked bitterly before turning and walking out of the barn, a tear finally rolling down his bruised cheek. Valentine stared after him while clasping his hands behind his back.

"Yes. You did." Valentine said to the empty room.

Jace made it all the way to the side of the house before throwing up. He was surprised he had made it that far. He turned on the hose that was coiled like a venomous green snake against the house and rinsed his mouth out, trying to shake off the crushing self hatred that made him want to puke again. While the hose was on, Jace rinsed the blood of the blade, watching as the water ran red, then pink, and then clear again. He slid the clean blade on the thigh of his jeans to dry it before slipping it into his belt. Then he filled up his cupped hands with water and splashed his face.

Not feeling any better, Jace turned off the water and entered the large house. No lights were on but Jace could see just fine. He made his way down the hall to the stairs of his room, wanting nothing more than to sleep for a few months.

He passed the study and saw that a fire was crackling merrily in the fireplace. Jace frowned and pushed the door open. He saw Jonathan sitting on a stool at the bar, a crystal cup in his hand and a bottle of scotch in front of him.

"Go away." Jonathan said without looking up, while swirling the liquor around in the glass before drinking it with a neat flick of his wrist.

"Gladly." Jace said before turning to leave.

"No wait…" Jace turned at the waist to glance back at his brother. Jonathan reached under the bar and pulled out another crystal shot glass. "Come have a drink with me, little brother." Jace frowned but entered the room, too curious to leave. "And shut the door too. Father would be pissed if he saw us drinking his good scotch." Jace pushed the door closed and walked to the other side of the bar, facing Jonathan.

"Are you drunk?" he asked roughly. Jonathan finally looked up at him, a crooked grin making his face look…nice for once. Jonathan laughed.

"No. Not yet. But I'm working on it." He poured more alcohol into his class and filled up Jace's as well. He set the bottle down on the bar too hard, making the scotch slosh up out the top. Jonathan frowned at it. Jace raised his eyebrows.

"You sure you're not drunk?" Jace asked mockingly. Jonathan chuckled and raised his glass.

"I'm positive. Now stop talking and drink." Jace shook his head but raised his shot glass, humoring him.

"What should we drink to?" he asked. Jonathan's eyes glinted in the fire light and his usual wicked grin replaced the sincere one.

"Let's drink to Father." Jonathan said with a sinister tone. Jace raised his eyebrows again.

"Mm. Let's not." Jace said bitterly. Jonathan studied him over his raised glass.

"Alright then. What shall we drink to, Little Angel boy?"

"Let's drink to drinking." Jace said. Jonathan's face cracked into his natural smile, the one he tried to never let people see. He clinked his glass to Jace's.

"Well said." Jonathan shot his drink but kept his eyes on Jace. Jace swirled his scotch expertly.

"You sure this isn't poisoned?" Jonathan's eyes sparkled as he shrugged.

"Guess you'll never know until you drink it." Jace raised the glass to his lips and drank it, flipping his wrist elegantly without taking his eyes of his brother's. Jonathan's smile grew wider. Jace set his glass down and leaned his elbows onto the bar, feeling the alcohol warming his stomach.

"Well at least I know better then to ask you for the antidote." he said clearly with his own wicked grin. Jonathan shook his head, fighting the smile.

"You always were a smart ass."

He filled up their glasses again and they drank in silence, listening to the crackling of the fire. Jace was stunned. Jonathan was actually being civil with him…nice even. Maybe he did poison the scotch…

"So…what's up with you Jonathan?" Jace asked, no longer able to stand being so curious. "I mean why are you being so friendly to me. It's really out of character for you." Jonathan raised his glass to his lips.

"Geez. Can't a guy have a drink with his little brother once in awhile without raising all kinds of suspicion?" he asked with an overly hurt tone. Jace shook his head.

"Not when that guy is always trying to kill said brother."

Jonathan smirked again and shot his drink.

"Fine. If you must know…I'm being nice to you because I'm drinking… and I'm drinking because I'm depressed." Jace frowned. This was so not the answer he had been expecting. He didn't know if Jonathan was just messing with him or if something was really bothering him. He wasn't prepared to handle comforting his homicidal brother and he couldn't shake the feeling of being played. Games were Jonathan's favorite hobby and Jace was always his favorite target.

"Well bottle it up like you usually do. Cause we all know that works so well." Jace said coldly. Jonathan scoffed.

"Well that wasn't very compassionate of you. I thought you were the one who handled emotions so well and blah blah blah." Jace rolled his eyes and poured them two more drinks. The bottle was almost empty.

"Fine, I'll bite: why are you depressed." Jonathan's face slipped into a frown. He stared down at his hands clenched around his glass. It was a long time before he answered.

"I killed someone tonight."

Jace swore Jonathan could hear the pounding of his heart over the soothing sounds of the fire because it seemed like he was tapping his thumb against his glass in rhythm with his pulse.

"What did you just say?" Jace whispered. Jonathan's dark eyes flicked up to Jace's and his face managed to look humorous even though he wasn't smiling.

"You heard me." Jonathan reached out and emptied the bottle of scotch into Jace's glass. "Drink up, little brother."