* Very short but the story is not abandoned *
There was nothing that could raise goose bumps to the surface of the skin quite as fast as the sound a blade made as it sheered through tendons in the neck and spinal cord.
Jace stepped back, slinging blood off his blade as he watched the now headless vampire thump to the glass strewn pavement. The male vampire's head lay at his boots, eyes open and unseeing with a trickle of blood running from his dark mouth. Jace wondered if it could possibly be his own angel blood.
The female copy of the vampire he had just decapitated screeched her fury before rushing him back against a grimy wall.
"You'll die for that, Nephilim!" she hissed, fingernails raking at his chest in a wild attempt to capture his throat.
Jace slammed a shoulder into her, pushing her away to make room for his blade. She took a stab to the stomach before Jace swung his seraph blade up to sheer off her head—and the two matching vampires were once again identical as they lay side by side on the ground as bloody, dark-mouthed stumps.
"Who's next!" Jace yelled into the crowd of battle crouched figures.
Their eyes glittered in the dim, reflecting light like feral street cats.
Jace spit. He'd had enough of this night.
Enough of the worry and opposition and yes, fear. He'd thought he'd had enough of the violence back in the Bone City but now it coursed through him making his blood blister and his teeth clench.
Now he hungered for the decapitated forms of the Downworlders who had dared to cross him on this night.
Two vampires attempted to rush him from his right side; his glowing blade cleaved one from the side of the mouth up to its opposite ear—taking part of his head, but not enough to call it a clean decapitation.
The effect was just as well though…even the undead cannot function with half a face and even less of a brain.
The second vampire stopped his attack to watch his fallen faceless comrade hit the dirty pavement with a graceless thud, blood spurting in fountains and pooling around him like an aura.
Jace flashed his lion's eyes up at the vampire, who was now backtracking.
Jace felt a grim sneer pull up his lips as he sprung over the bodies of the fallen to land on the retreating enemy, knees digging into his sternum to prevent escape.
Jace was aware of light feet running on the rooftops, and realized with derision that the rest of the clan was fleeing.
Cowards…Jace thought acidly as he raised the seraph blade high and brought it down piercing the throat of the Downworlder trapped beneath him.
He finished the kill, getting blood spattered on his face like freckles, before standing to survey the alley.
A tingling attention at his back alerted him to another being with him in the alleyway.
Jace tightened his grip on his weapon before whipping around, his seraph blade arcing through the air and coming down to clang resoundingly off another seraph blade.
A spike of fear struck through him, but was literally kicked away as a short, boot clad leg came up and delivered a blast to his chest that sent him stumbling back into the alley wall.
He automatically raised his blade to fend off the attacker, trying to find his breath when a short dagger flipped end over end at him and sliced a valley into his wrist.
Jace gasped, dropping his blade as his attacker approached him. He frantically reached for his fallen weapon, fearing the Clave had caught up to him while he had stupidly taken his frustrations out on the Downwolders.
He couldn't fight his way out of this….he couldn't kill any more of his own. At least he told himself that.
"Jace, stop! It's me…"
That voice…It couldn't be.
"Clary?"
