Chapter 13: Jace

Morgenstern Manor has never been so quiet.

It's as if someone died, though there was no white to be seen. Only black, which makes it worse. It seems like everyone has moved on.

Jon hasn't left his room in days. No one enters, save for Clary, and she won't talk about his state. Curiosity and worry are nagging at the rest of us, but her mouth stays firmly shut.

Other than that, it looks like General Morgenstern refuses to let anything change. Everyone (excluding Jon) is going out on patrols and Shadowhunters stream through the front doors constantly, like they used to. But there was a lull in the activity right now, which meant the pain showed.

"Jace!" Alec comes jogging down the hall, a piece of paper in his hand. "Jace!" I stop, allowing him to catch up to me. "We've got a mission."

I raise an eyebrow. It's been a damn long time since I last went on a mission. I was beginning to wonder if the general thought I retired or something. "What's up?"

"There's some suspicious activity near the LA Shadow Market. The Blackthorns reported it a few days ago. We're supposed to go check it out." Alec hands me the paper with the mission details. "Some Downworld murders. No one's really sure if it's demons, Shadowhunters, or rogues. But either way, it's on us."

I nod, scanning the page. "Alright. Meet you in the foyer in 20?"

"Bring Clary with you." Alec jogs down the hall and he turns out of sight.

I backtrack toward the room I share with my wife. Ah, I will never get used to that.

Once I reach the hallway that houses the bedrooms, I send a sparing glance toward Jon's direction. His room is right next to ours, after all. But there is no change. The same locked door and dark room.

The door creaks as I push it open, making me flinch. If Jocelyn were nearby, she'd berate me for disturbing her son. Which is irrational, considering these are stone walls around us, not glass.

I find Clary laying on our bed, sketching. My lips curve into a small smile, my heart exploding just by watching her. She's just so beautiful and kind and talented that I just…oh, forget it, I don't wanna tell you. It's too personal.

I shut the door and make my way to the wardrobe, pulling out some articles of gear and strapping weapons to my belt. I can feel Clary's eyes on me as I do so.

"Going somewhere?" she asks.

"Yeah. Mission with Alec. There's some activity over in LA, near the Shadow Market. We're going to figure it out." I turn, zipping-up the last of my gear. "Care to draw us a Portal?"

She smiles, tossing her sketchbook and grabbing her stele. "Sure."

We make our way down to the foyer, stopping for a few minutes in the weapons room for a resupply and quick make-out session. The last part negates the fact that we are about two minutes late meeting Alec.

My parabatai's eyes are suspicious as we come into view. He looks us up and down and then scowls. "You two really can't keep your hands off each other, can you?"

Clary blushes furiously but I grin broadly. "Nope." And I'm proud of it.

He mutters something about an irresponsible person but I don't mind. He's just jealous.

The weather is warm and clear outside. No more smoke. That's a relief.

The land still bears the remnant of the battle. Scorch marks scar the ground, turning a large portion of Morgenstern Manor's front lawn black. Several of the trees lining the property are crisped to the root, many bushes in the same state. It's rather depressing.

However, the great oak still stands. Clary approaches it, her stele outstretched, and sets instrument to wood. Within seconds, a Portal appears.

"There you go," she says, stepping back. "Be safe." She sends me a pointed look. "Especially you."

Alec rolls his eyes. "Bold of you to assume I wouldn't save his ass first."

Clary crosses her arms, flipping him off. "You better."

I smirk, shoving my parabatai towards the Portal. "Alright, alright, ladies, you're both pretty."

In exact synchronization, Alec and Clary send me the middle finger. I laugh.

"I'll be home soon, Clare," I tell her, placing a kiss on her cheek. "Don't worry."

"Who said I would?" she asks. But before I can retort, Alec is pushing me through the Portal, cutting off any and all replies.

Shadow Markets are some of the coolest things to exist on this planet.

The massive collection of werewolves, faeries, vampires, and warlocks, all selling different types of wares, entertainment, and information is such an amazing thing to behold. The colors, smells, sounds—it's utterly fantastic.

For the most part, though, Shadowhunters aren't welcome. Since we're the "police" of the Downworld and there are a lot of illegal dealings going on in the Markets, people find us threatening and hostile.

But if you're part of the Circle, you're apart of the Market.

We don't monitor the things other Shadowhunters would arrest Downworlders for. That's simply not our duty. We watch other Shadowhunters—specifically, those that have gone rogue or are extreme anti-Downworld activists. People in the Circle will report extreme forbidden dealings if seen, but for the most part, we don't look for it. And the Downworld is good at hiding things, so the chance of us actually spotting something is rare.

Since we help protect the denizens of the Market as well, we're technically seen as one of them. So when we enter and we have the insignia of the Circle strapped to our biceps, it's always a good time.

I've only ever been to the LA Shadow Market once, maybe about two years ago, the New York and London ones being more my style. That means I'm not overly familiar with the people who stay here but I know a few.

"Jace!" A werewolf I'd met about three months ago in NYC, Phillip, calls over the din of the Market. He's leaning against a bright blue-tented stall, herbs covering his table. Alec and I make our way over to him.

"How you been, man?" I ask, leaning against his wooden posts.

Phillip grins. "I found myself a lady," he drawls, obviously a little bit tipsy. But that's Phillip for you.

I raise my eyebrows. "Oh, really? What's her name?"

"Ivy. She's a real hottie, if you ask me." He grasps behind him, snagging a bottle of whiskey. He takes a long swig. "She works up on the north end."

I nod. "Nice, man, real nice," I say. "What brings you to LA?"

"Got in trouble with the pack in New York," Phillip replies. "The guy leading it, Garroway or Graymark or something, didn't like that I sold belladonna in his area."

Alec flicks his hair out of his eyes, scowling. "Belladonna is not a friendly plant. You can't blame him."

Phillip shrugs. "Yeah, yeah, whatever." He gestures between us. "What about you two? Why are you here?"

"A string of murders," I answer. "You happen to know anything?"

Phillip shakes his head. Oh, what a surprise. "No, sorry. But there's this guy. Name's Johnny Rook. He might be able to give you some insight."

"Where is he?" Alec peers down the line of stalls, which goes down so far, you can't see the end.

"I can take you to him," a silky voice interrupts. Magnus Bane appears out of nowhere, coming up beside Alec's shoulder. My parabatai jumps. "I assume you're here to investigate the sudden deaths we've seen. I just happen to be wondering the same thing." The rings on his finger cast disco-like reflections onto the surrounding area. A particularly grumpy-looking vampire glares.

I give him a once-over, not trusting of the fact that this is the real Magnus Bane. After all, isn't he supposed to be in New York?

Magnus waves my distrustful attitude off. "Relax, Blondie. It's the real me. I can assure you."

Alec stares at Magnus, like he doesn't quite believe the warlock is standing next to him. When Magnus leans an arm on his shoulder, Alec flushes a dark red. Hm.

"And how so?" I challenge.

"Ask me anything," Magnus answers, looking at his nails with apparent boredom.

"Who did Dombra belong to before it was mine?"

Magnus pierces me with an amused look. "Little Jamie Herondale."

I study him once more before pushing myself off the post. "Lead the way, Mr. Bane."

Magnus starts forward, the crowd immediately parting for him. We follow, bearing the brunt of many suspicious-turned-indifferent gazes.

He leads us through the crowd, passing many odd stalls along the way. Clothing, charmed objects, weapons—you name it, it's here.

As we pass a red-skinned warlock selling spell books, I spot a piece of black leather moving out of the corner of my eye. Is that another Shadowhunter? It could be one of the Blackthorns. But I don't think they frequent this place much. Right?

I nudge Alec with my arm. "I think I just saw another Shadowhunter. I'm going to go check it out. I'll find you two when I'm done."

Alec hesitates but nods anyway. "Don't get yourself into trouble."

I back away, leaving the pair, and duck behind the warlock's table. Out of the hubbub of the Market, it's dark and eerily quiet.

There's movement to my right. I duck low, hiding in an alcove, my head peeking around the corner. There are two figures hidden in another alcove—one tall and thin, the other short and round. The tall man is most certainly a Shadowhunter, his gear practically screaming his race. But I can't quite identify the short one.

After tracing a quick rune on my arm, I'm able to tune into their conversation.

"—and you were able to finish the task?" one man asked. The voice sounded familiar so it had to have been the Shadowhunter. But who was it?

"Yesssss," the short figure answered. The slither of their tongue either meant they were a warlock with a screwed up mark or a demon. Oh, this Nephilim was in hot water.

"And you have the book?" the tall man inquired.

"No."

"Why do you not have the book?"

"The warlock who hassss it protectsss it very well," the demon answered. "I wasss not able to draw him away."

Could that warlock have been Magnus? Was that the demon's ploy? What book were they looking for anyway? Why were they looking for the book? What task had the demon finished?

"Damn it," the Shadowhunter cursed. "Well, then try again. Bane is powerful but he's not invincible. We'll find a way."

I guess the warlock is Magnus.

There are tons of things Magnus could have that this Shadowhunter wants. There's a chance, that with the right clues, we could figure it out and Magnus could increase the protection. But it's still a broad topic.

I think about confronting the Shadowhunter. I could easily take him down and then he would be tried by the Mortal Sword (most likely, in any case). The whole thing would be called off.

Just as I step out the approach the pair, I see that I had missed a very important detail.

This is not an ordinary demon.

As children, we're given an extensive lesson on Greater Demons, so on the off-chance that we ever meet one, we know what to do. And thank the Angel for that.

Because this demon is damn Mrs. Dark.

Mrs. Dark is in the form of a short, plump lady. Some memory tickles at the back of my head, almost like I've seen this woman in some sort of history book before, but I can't place her. Memory can really suck sometimes.

I retreat. It would be foolish to take on a Greater Demon and a trained Shadowhunter by myself. I'm reckless, yeah, but not stupid. Fighting them is asking for death.

Something makes the Nephilim jump. "I have to go," the Shadowhunter says, skirting around Mrs. Dark.

He leaves, careful not to touch her in any way. She watches him leave before retreating into the shadows. I return to the chaos of the Market, fast and quiet so she wouldn't realize someone had been watching.

Thank goodness that Magnus takes a glitter bath every morning. If he didn't, then I don't think I would've been able to find them.

The pair is at a stall, facing off with a tall, graying-haired man. The man is getting particularly angry, Alec just the same. Magnus is watching with cool indifference.

"—I don't serve Shadowhunters," the man, presumably Johnny Rook, spits. "Even the Circle ones."

"Yeah, well if you don't want these murders to continue, you're going to have to," Alec returns, placing his hands on Rook's table. The little encounter is gathering a crowd.

I stroll up, taking up my spot against one of Rook's posts. "What'd I miss?" I ask.

"Nothing much, just this asshole not giving us information on these murders." Alec turns to Rook. "It's simple talk, man. Just tell us what you know."

"If you want to know, go ask the Institute. I'm sure they have enough for you," Rook snarks back.

"Come on, Rook!" some guy calls from the back of the gathering crowd. "These Nephilim are here to solve these murders! Give 'em something!" The rest of the horde murmurs in agreement.

Rook scowls, shaking his head. "I refuse. I don't like dealing with Shadowhunters."

Purposefully, I pull out a dagger and twirl it between my fingers. Rook eyes it with contempt. "Tell us where they are, who they've killed. That's it. That's all we need."

He shakes his head. "No."

There's a rustle and then the crowd shuffles. I turn just as Barnabas Hale emerges from the congregation.

He waves away from Rook's stall. His eyes narrow in distaste at the sight of us but doesn't order us away. He's less friendly to the Circle than most Downworlders but tolerates our presence because we keep the annoying Shadowhunters out of his hair.

"I assume you're here because of the deaths," he asks, piercing us with his yellow eyes.

I nod. "Happen to know anything?"

"I own this place, Herondale. Of course I do." He spins on his heel, walking away. "Follow me."

I send Rook one last look, just to say ha but his expression stops me. Rook's unusually tense, staring at me with frozen eyes. His gaze studies me before he slips away, out of sight.

Well. That was weird.

Brushing the rude man off, I go to catch up to the other three. My head's spinning with information and confusion—I need to get Alec and Magnus alone soon. Especially Magnus. But first, we need to solve these murders.

When I get back to Morgenstern Manor, it's late. We spent most of the night investigating with Magnus and Barnabas, going from site to site and gathering information from people who knew the victims. It took a long time, considering there were easily over 10 deaths. But by this point, we had enough clues to start a full search.

Alec and Magnus left for New York together, saying that they were going to look over the clues. My parabatai also had to check up on the Institute there, so it was a win-win. For the most part.

I never got the chance to talk to Magnus and Alec though, which made me anxious. If I didn't have anything to do tomorrow, I would head straight for New York. Mrs. Dark was dangerous and cunning—Magnus would appreciate the forewarning.

Clary's lying on our bed, once again sketching. She's wearing one of my shirts and no pants, which turns me on to no end. But I'm too damn tired to do anything about it.

"How'd it go?" she asks, placing her pad and pencil on her nightstand. "Do you have anything to go on?"

I nod, pulling my jacket off. "Yeah. We got some help from Barnabas Hale, the guy who owns the Market. Alec and I are going to go back with a few extra people in a couple of days. We're pretty stocked on information."

I pause, wanting to tell her about the conversation between the Shadowhunter and Mrs. Dark. I could trust Clary, I knew, but would this make her want to go into action? Would it stress her out? Because if so, no. It wouldn't be good for the baby.

"Jace?" Clary pushes. "What else is there?"

Damn. She knows me too well.

"I saw a Shadowhunter while we were talking to some werewolf," I say, turning away to hang my stuff up. I can feel Clary's gaze on my back. "I went after him, just to make sure he wasn't wreaking any havoc." From there, I proceed to tell Clary about everything that happened at the Market, from the conversation to Rook's weird reaction to something Barnabas said.

At the end, I find myself dirty and itching for a shower. "I'm going to wash off. I'll be back."

I slide into the bathroom closing the door. The water feels good rolling down my body, washing away the grime of the day's work. By the time I get out, the mirror is fogged and my mind is relaxed. Good.

Clary's in deep through by the time I crawl into bed next to her. The only response I can elicit before talking is her automatically cuddling into my arm.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Clary jumps at the sound of my voice.

"Oh, um, nothing," she stutters. I stare at her. She sighs. "There's something I have to tell you. Something just as confusing as what you just told me, something that maybe is just a figment of my imagination. But I think you should know."

And then Clary freaking blows my damn mind.

Sorry for the long wait, guys!

I hope you like the chapter. I've been adding a lot of plot points to my outline and we're on the way up to the climax. Spicy things will be happening soon, don't worry!

Shoutout to Helena Blackthorn and SkyBell1272 as well! I'll definitely keep your requests in mind...

Patience is key my friends.

AnYwHo

Review if you want to. You don't have to but it really does help.

:)