The room he put them in was clean. So clean that it hurt her eyes to look at it. The white linens were bright on her eyes. There were two wide windows on the wall and on the furthest wall, two oil paintings that flanked a golden mirror.
He had first taken her to a bathroom and given her a rag and a bar of soap to wash herself off with while he went to clean Jace. She had done all she could to her face, scrubbing away the blood and grime. The long gash on her forehead could not be helped, but at least the blood flow had stopped.
She worked with her hair the best she could, wetting it under the water of the sink and clawing the dried blood out. She put as much soap in it as would get the rest of the stain out. She knotted it back in the braids, letting them fall down her back.
He had given her a change of clothes. Her own clothes from Idris. A summery white cotton dress. He came back for her, escorting her back to the room and then disappearing.
He left them alone, leaving Jace to wake on his own. He had cleaned Jace and dressed him in a loose white shirt and black pants.
Jonathan's clothes.
She slid down the wall, her hands gripping the hem of her shirt.
Her hands shook nervously. Her mind was everywhere, rattled and a mess. She couldn't put things in a straight line, she didn't know real memories from fake ones. She brought her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms around them as her eyes glided across the room.
He was asleep on the cot, his expression peaceful. When he woke up, everything would change. Nothing would be the same.
She was fucked. Royally fucked.
She bit down on her lip, closing her eyes. The door slid open, closing quietly. Her head jerked up, her green eyes wide.
Her father was an intimidating man. His dark eyes were nearly black, intense and dangerous. His shoulders were broad, topping off a muscular body hardened by decades of dedicated training. Silver scars lined his body, years of stele use evident. The sight of him always made her hands shake. She'd learned to control that growing up, he didn't like fear, but now…it had been months since she had seen him. She couldn't control the shaking of her hands, the worrying of her lip between her teeth.
Behind him was another Shadowhunter, one she didn't recognize. The Shadowhunter set the table with eatery and food and then Valentine dismissed the man in a quiet voice.
Her mouth almost watered at the sight of the food. It had been hours since she had eaten, before the fight with Abbadon.
"Eat, Eliza." He told her, voice stern as ever. Her green eyes looked into his dark ones. She would eat no food he gave her. "Eliza, stop being a pertinent little girl and eat. I know you're hungry."
There was no room for arguing. She stood up and joined him at the table. There was one more place setting, for Jace whenever he woke from the mysterious slumber he was in. He put a generous helping of food on her plate and filled her fluted glass full. He gave her one nod, a signal that she could eat.
"You've started braiding your hair. You remind me of your mother. It suits you." He told her. "You look older, even though it has been only months since I sent you here."
Mother. Her mother. Not Seraphina Starkweather. Jocelyn Fairchild. Jocelyn Fray. She'd been hiding out in New York ever since she left Idris. She'd had another daughter, Clarissa. No, Clary. She went by Clary. Eliza remembered meeting her mother, hearing her sister's voice.
Her mother was here, in another room, asleep because of a potion she had taken to avoid her husband- or ex-husband? Eliza figured she was like her mother, they both took drastic measures to ensure Valentine didn't get what he wanted.
Jocelyn put herself in a coma and Eliza erased herself, creating a new person.
Eliza wanted to respond, to say something bitter and cold, but she couldn't get any words to form in her brain.
"Has the little dove forgotten her words?" Her father's words were spoken softly, but the meaning was poisonous.
Little dove. He'd been watching her. He knew about Magnus. She cracked a small smile.
It had to be burning him up on the inside, knowing his daughter was extremely close to a Downworlder, to a warlock, the High Warlock of Brooklyn at that.
His dark eyes glinted. He stood up and moved away from the table. He leaned over Jace's sleeping body, swiping his hair to the side. "Don't touch him." Eliza hissed.
Valentine looked over, a knowing smirk playing his lips. "Ah, the little dove speaks. I thought the warlock got your tongue, Eliza."
She stood up, balling her hands into fists to keep them from shaking. "You said you'd leave him alone. Make good on your word like you always do." If there was one thing he was insistent about, it was making good on his word. He never broke a promise.
He set his lips in a line and stood up straight. "So, my sources don't lie. You really do care for the boy. As more than a brother."
Her eyebrows furrowed. Jace wasn't her brother. Jonathan was. Jace was a boy that Valentine had lied to, he had ruined and broken. Just like he had broken her.
"He isn't my brother, you know that." She told him.
Jonathan and Jace were nothing alike. Jonathan was empty, he was hard and cold and wrong. He was everything Jace wasn't, everything Jace couldn't be. Jace was full of life and energy, he was warm and good. It would be difficult to mix them up. Especially for her father.
"But he doesn't. And he won't. When he wakes, Jace becomes Jonathan. Now, you follow along with that or you will be punished, Eliza. Do you understand?"
She shook her head. "I'm not going to lie to him. Not anymore. He deserves better." She hissed.
She had lied to Jace too much, she wasn't going to do it anymore. Valentine's eyes darkened. "Yes. You will. Or others will pay for your mistakes. The Lightwood children. Your sister. They will pay for your disobedience. You've grown to be an excellent liar. Utilize it."
She would have to fold to him, to do as he wished. Telling Jace that Valentine was their father wouldn't be hard. Valentine had raised him, but had raised him as a Wayland. He had raised him away from Eliza, away from Jonathan. And from what she understood, Valentine had been much softer with Jace than he had she and Jonathan.
No, it wouldn't be hard convincing Jace that Valentine Morgenstern, and not Michael Wayland, was his father.
Her skin chilled. She didn't want to picture what he would do to Alec and Izzy, what he would do to Clary. "Fine." She whispered. "He's my brother."
God, she hated giving him what he wanted. But she had to. She had promised to keep everyone safe. Even if it meant lying to Jace, something she swore never to do again.
Valentine chuckled as Jace stirred. "You are a disappointment, my child. I should have let your mother take you when she wanted to."
Her fork fell from her hand. She stared back at him. "What?"
He smiled at her, sinister and dark. "Oh yes. After the Uprising, when I dragged her away from that beast that used to be Lucian Greymark, she begged for me to let her go. To let her take you and Jonathan and she would never show her face to me again." His smile fell and his eyes looked wistful, as if he were remembering some lovely memory. "Of course, I told her that she would never have you. You were my children, I fought hard for you. I loved you."
Love? What did he know of love? Nothing.
"Your neck, the scar on it. What happened?" He asked. "It must have hurt."
Her hand flew to her neck, covering the thick scar. She knew it had to look ghastly. A dark red mound of scar tissue on the pale cream of her skin. "A vampire bit me a few days ago. I stabbed him."
The look on his face was almost…proud. "I always knew you would be a great warrior. You just needed the chance to prove it."
"Father?" Jace's voice was small, like a child's. Eliza turned, her green eyes soft. "Lizzie?"
"Jace, come eat. You must be hungry." Valentine told him.
Jace got up and joined them at the table. Valentine served him food and filled his glass. "I don't understand…I…you were dead." Jace murmured.
Valentine moved, standing up. He trifled through something and produced a gauzy bandage. "I forgot to give you this." He stood next to Eliza. Her breath caught as he leaned over her and carefully applied the bandage to her forehead, covering the gash.
He moved back to Jace, putting his hands on his shoulders. "It was all a terrible mistake, my son."
Jace looked at Eliza. "Why are you here? How did you get here?" He asked. There was nothing rude in his voice. It was thick with concern.
Valentine's dark eyes bored into her. "I didn't want you to be alone when you found out." Her tongue felt too big for her mouth.
Valentine chuckled, moving so both of them could see him. "You have such a caring sister, Jace. I hope she's been taking good care of you."
Confusion swept over his face. Sister? "What?"
"Eliza." Valentine said tightly.
Lies weaved in her mind, trying to find something plausible. Something he would believe. But there was Valentine, standing before them. Jace knew him as his father. "I'm sorry I had to lie to you." She said quietly. "I didn't want to overwhelm you with everything so quickly. But it's true." She took a deep breath. "It was safer to raise us separately. The Clave knew that he had two children, twin boy and girl. It was safer for me to be in one place and you to be in another. It was safer for me to be real and hidden, to be Eliza Morgenstern, and for you to Jace Wayland, son of Michael Wayland."
Jace's mouth worked in an awkward fashion, no words coming out. "I don't understand." He finally said.
Eliza stood up, not caring to finish her food. She had lost her appetite. She tucked her chair back under the table, staring at her father. "Tell him." She waved a hand. "Tell him who he is."
Who he thinks he is, anyways.
"My son." Valentine sighed. "Jonathan Christopher-." "Wayland." "Morgenstern."
The room went still. Jace was holding his breath. "Welcome to the family." Eliza said tersely. "Brother."
The color drained from Jace's face. "But…There's so much I don't understand."
Valentine nodded thoughtfully. "I am more than happy to make you understand, my son." He put his hands on the table, clasping them together. "Hodge used to be one of my great friends when we were younger. After the Uprising, I went to the house to collect you both. The manor was on fire. I only had time to get you both out before it exploded. I knew it wasn't safe to raise the two of you together. I left Eliza with Marisol Hardtower, a good friend of the family. I took Jace to Wayland Manor and we pretended to be the Waylands. No one had heard from Michael or his son since before the Uprising. Eight years later and things started to go wrong. I knew I had to fake my death again. I'm sorry, Jace, that I made you believe I had left you behind.
When I realized Hodge was after the Mortal Cup, I sent Eliza to procure it so she could put it in the hands of the Clave. Once Eliza found out where the Cup was, she realized Starkweather was on to her. So, she had that warlock Magnus Bane put a spell on her mind." Her stomach rolled at the way he said Magnus' name. Full of hatred and disgust. He wasn't even half the man Magnus was. "Once I found out that Starkweather had sent the Ravener demon after Jocelyn, I decided to come myself. To protect the both of you. I found Jocelyn and I brought her here to help her."
Eliza allowed herself to sneak a peek at Jace. His face was blank, but he had a look in his eyes. He was believing every word Valentine spoke. Eliza looked away, training her eyes on the floor.
Valentine had left them. There was a commotion outside. He left, telling them to gather their things so they could leave.
"You never mentioned it in your letter. The fact that I'm your brother." Jace said roughly.
He had moved to the window, pulling the curtain back. There were wolves outside, tearing Valentine's Forsaken apart.
Because you aren't him, Eliza thought.
"You weren't supposed to know." She told him. "He loved you. He loved you more than he had ever loved me. He wanted you in the dark and that, I was okay with that. I didn't want you living under what I had to."
Jace scoffed at her. "You made it pretty convincing, Starkweather." Her heart seized. "So, you made them up? Your parents, Oskar and Seraphina? Your Uncle Henry and your brother, Jon-."
She gave him an unusually crooked smile. She leaned against the wall beside him, her fingers fiddling with the curtain. "All hints to who I was. Oskar and Seraphina are my grandparents, our grandparents. Valentine's parents. Henry…It's a popular name. And my brother, good and kind Jonathan. You."
Jace sucked in a breath. "Our grandparents. Where are they?"
"Our mother's parents died in the fire of Fairchild Manor. Seraphina died when our father was a child, young and impressionable. And Oskar…he was killed by a werewolf before we were born. The sole reason Valentine hates Downworlders."
The door burst open. Eliza turned. "Jace! Eliza!"
Clary?
She was as dirty as they had been before. Her red hair wild. Jace turned, letting the curtain fall back over the window.
"Clary, how are you here?" Jace asked her.
The door slammed shut behind her. "I came with Luke."
The wolves. Luke. Lucian. "Can he call them off?" Jace asked.
Clary took a step back, taking them in. They were both cleaned and fed, bandages on their wounds. Eliza's pale hair had been washed and cleaned, Jace's golden locks falling softly atop his head.
"Well, Valentine is taking remarkably good care of you." Clary said darkly.
You would think, Eliza mused in her mind.
"My father is taking care of me." Jace told her.
Clary's brows knit in confusion. Everyone knew of Jace's father. He had been murdered in Wayland Manor when Jace was ten, Jace having witnessed the whole event. "Jace, your father's dead. He died when you were ten."
A much better fate, Eliza thought, than the one he has been saddled with now. Now he's a Morgenstern, doomed to a legacy of stain. Just like her.
"No. That was a mistake. I've seen him and talked to him. He's alive, Clary. My father is alive."
Clary's eyes narrowed. "So, you've seen him?" She asked Eliza. Eliza nodded yes. "So, Valentine is keeping the three of you hostage? You, your dad and Eliza?"
Jace laughed quietly, saying no. "It's not like that at all."
The door opened again. Valentine walked in. He had his long-sword sheathed at his waist. "Jace, Eliza, are your things together?" His eyes fell on Clary. Astonishment was evident on his face. He hadn't been expecting her. "Oh. Who is this?"
Clary suddenly had a dagger out. The dagger Jace had given her at Hotel Dumort. She had murder in her eyes. Eliza wondered if she could do it, make the blade stick. Kill her father. She was going to let her try but Jace held her back.
"Clary, stop. That's my father." Jace told her.
"One of you should really answer my question." His voice wavered on impatient.
"Clarissa Fray." Eliza answered him. "She's been staying at the Institute with us."
His eyes canvassed Clary, taking her all in. They landed on her dagger. "May I see that?" He asked pleasantly.
Jace took the dagger from Clary and handed it to Valentine. "Father." He said, placing the dagger in his hand.
Valentine examined the blade. "Jace, I gave this to you. It's a kindjal, one of a matched pair. I'm quite surprised the Lightwoods never noticed the mark of the Morgensterns on this blade. But then again, they thought you were a Wayland." His tone was light with amusement.
Jace's mouth twitched. "As did I."
He should have been a Wayland. Having a dead father was better than her father. "Let us sit then." He sat down, Jace following his suit. Eliza sat down next. "Clary, take a sit if you want." Valentine offered. "There is room at the Morgenstern table for you."
Eliza swallowed. Say she's your daughter. Say it.
Clary declined. "As you wish." Valentine said. "Clarissa, hmm? Not my taste in names. I prefer timeless names, traditional ones."
Eliza took a sip from her wine. He was indulging her. Only for Jace's sake. Jace had been blessed with a caring father. She had not been.
She had never been allowed to drink wine before.
"Well, I really don't care where my name falls in your taste." Clary said hotly. "You can stop pretending that you're Jace's father. Everyone knows that Jace is a Wayland." Valentine chuckled, leaning forward with interest. Clary looked to Eliza. "Tell him the truth. You're his daughter. Tell Jace that he isn't Valentine's son."
She felt her father's eyes on her. Another test of her loyalty. Another test of how smart she was. "Jace is my brother. My twin brother." She told Clary quietly. "That is the truth and you should learn to accept it."
She knew how Clary felt. Clary felt the same way that she did. In love with Jace. The only difference was that Clary thought her feelings were unrequited. She didn't know the real truth. She thought Jace was her brother.
Eliza knew better. She knew the truth. Jace wasn't their brother. Eliza's feelings were perfectly requited. As long as she kept them to herself.
"Thank you, my darling Eliza." Valentine's tone was one she had never heard before. Appreciative. "Everyone was misinformed. It was unwittingly easy to take over the identity of Michael Wayland, especially when I had a son the same age as his own son. And it was a stroke of luck that Wayland's wife died during the Uprising, so of course he would be hiding away with his son in mourning. But soon, everyone will know the truth. Jace is my son, a Morgenstern."
Clary pointed at Jace's ring. "What about that?" She asked. "It's the Wayland family ring."
Eliza didn't like the amused look on her father's face. He was enjoying ruining Clary. Making her a fool, with an audience. "No one," Valentine sighed, "ever seems to recall how similar M and W are to each other." Jace's ring glittered in the lighting of the room. The heavy silver of the ring contrasted with the golden aura of Jace's physicality. "It's strange, isn't it? That the symbol of the Wayland family would be a falling star? But how strange could it be that it was the symbol of the Morgenstern family, instead?"
He was playing with her. He played with words the same way Jace did. The same way she played with knives.
Clary stared back at him blankly. "What does that even mean?"
Eliza's fingers tapped against her wineglass. Her nails made a quiet noise every time they clicked against the glass. "Lucifer is referred to as the Morning Star. Morgenstern is German for 'morning star.' A morning star refers to any sort of large power lost due to a refusal to serve."
Valentine beamed at her. An uneasy feeling welled inside of her. The game he was playing, the act of doting father, it made her sick. She desperately wanted him to show his true colors, to prove her right. To stop leading Jace on.
"Wasn't the Uprising your fault?" Clary said haughtily.
Eliza fought back a smile. She wanted to see him lie out of that one. "Clary." Jace sighed heavily. "Hodge lied. Hear him out, please." Valentine was staring at Eliza, dark eyes cold. He was daring her to say something that contradicted the story he had made. "Hodge wanted the Cup for himself. He sent the Raveners after your mom. Valentine brought her here to help her."
Her entire life was full of lies. Did she even live with a truth anymore? What could she center her mind on to keep herself sane amidst the lies?
"He's lying to you, Jace." Clary told him. "Hodge was working for Valentine! Hodge traded him you and the Cup for the lifting of his curse!"
Jace shook his head in disagreement. Clary's face was red with hot anger. Eliza almost enjoyed watching them argue with each other. "No! Hodge wanted the Cup to lift his curse! He had to flee before my father told the Clave about what he was doing."
Clary turned to Eliza, her bright green eyes narrowed. "I was there. You know I was there." She said. "You were with us in the library. You saw everything I saw, heard everything I heard. Valentine lifted Hodge's curse because Hodge couldn't do it himself."
They were all looking at her. "I know what I saw, Clary." Eliza said calmly. "My father lifted Hodge's curse, it's true. And he told me why before you came. He was scared of what Hodge would do to Jace, to me, if he didn't. He is nothing if not a caring and loving father."
The whip scars on her back proved that much.
"He doesn't care about you." Clary seethed. "You know that."
Jace stood up, his hands slamming against the table. "Clary, that's enough! You aren't going to speak to my father that way."
"He's not your father, Jace! Get that through your head!"
Jace's face softened at her words. Eliza took another drink of her wine, glancing at her father. He gave her a subtle nod of approval. She was doing well. He was praising her. He had never praised her before.
"Why don't you believe us?" Jace whispered.
She saw Valentine shift from the corner of her eye. His hands were on the table. "She loves you, that's why." Eliza watched the color drain from Clary's face. Jace sat down slowly, his eyes on the floor. "Clarissa believes I'm taking advantage of you, Jonathan, and Eliza is aiding me."
"Jonathan?" Clary asked. "You said your name was Jace."
He finally looked at her, his eyes hard. He nodded. "It's a nickname. For my initials, J.C."
Clary looked as if she were going to be sick. Eliza stood up and picked up her wineglass. She handed it to Clary. "Drink." She thrusted the glass into Clary's hands. She watched Clary's mouth twist as she took in the wine and swallowed. She handed Eliza the glass back, her nose scrunched in distaste.
"J.C." Clary said slowly. "Jonathan Christopher."
Jace's tawny eyes widened. "How…How do you know that? I never told you that."
"Jace." Valentine's voice was everything it should have been in that moment. Comforting, assuring and kind. "The two of you were so young, I didn't want to break your hearts by telling you your mother had abandoned you. I thought it would be easier if you thought she was dead instead."
Jace looked at Eliza for assistance. She knew more than he did. She always had. "She's alive?" Jace whispered. "Our mother? Did you know?"
This time, she didn't lie to him. She couldn't tell another lie. "Yes." She admitted. "I found out in July. Magnus had a suspicion and I followed it. She knew where the Angel's Cup was, and she was going to tell me. But then Hodge started to suspect me, so I erased everything I knew about the Cup. I erased myself to keep you, Alec, Izzy and Clary safe."
Jace set his jaw. "Where is she?" He asked.
"Downstairs, asleep." Valentine told him. "Jace, Jocelyn is your mother."
Jace's head jerked. He looked at Clary and then Eliza, back to Valentine. "But…But that means that Clary-."
Eliza finished her wine. She set the glass down, her finger circling the rim. "Clary is our sister." She told him.
His hand twitched, knocking his wine glass over. "You're wrong. There's a mistake." He whispered. His face was pale.
"It's the truth, Jace." Eliza said sternly. "I went to Jocelyn's house in July. She knew who I was. As soon as she opened the door, she recognized me. Jocelyn is our mother and Clary is our sister."
Valentine leaned toward Jace. He put his hand on his shoulder. "Jonathan, I would have thought you would be pleased. You thought you were an orphan but now you have a family. A father, a mother and two sisters."
Jace looked nauseous, like he was going to be sick all over the table. "Jace…" Clary reached for him and he jerked away from her.
Eliza stole a look at her father. He had known the whole time. The gravity of dropping a bomb like that was the sort of power he wanted. The power he needed.
He was smart, the smartest person she knew. And he used it to his ultimate advantage. He was ruthless and cunning with his intelligence and it got him what he wanted every time.
If she was going to beat him, she was going to have to play the game the same way he played.
Clary turned to Valentine, a dark expression on her face. "You need to tell the whole truth. You give him lies with pieces of the truth put in. Stop it."
Valentine was keeping the amused expression off his face, instead replacing it with a look of tired consideration. "I'll give you the truth, Clarissa, if that's what you wish for." She said yes. "Michael Wayland was killed during the Uprising. He was never Jace's father. Becoming Michael Wayland was the easiest part of my fleeing. His only real friends in the Glass City were Maryse and Robert Lightwood and they were not allowed back. He had no family. For his part in the Uprising, Wayland would have been a disgrace. That was the life I led with my son. A disgraced life as Michael Wayland and his young son, Jace.
The only person who knew the truth was Marisol Hardtower. She had been one of my closest friends since childhood. I knew she would take excellent care of Eliza when I could not be there. Michael Wayland didn't have a daughter and if someone came to the house, I would not be able to explain her presence, so I left her in the care of Marisol. For ten years, things were peaceful. I traveled with Jace, I tried to split my time evenly between the two of them. Eliza knew where I was when I was gone, I trusted her with everything.
Ten years had gone by when someone wrote me a letter. They said that they knew I was really Valentine Morgenstern and I would need to take certain steps to keep my identity a secret. My life was compromised, along with the life of my children. I staged my death, with the help of Blackwell and Pangborn. I arranged for Jace to be sent to New York to be with the Lightwoods, as Robert was his godfather and Michael's parabatai. And I went back to Eliza." Clary said that he was sick, torturing Jace like that. Letting him think he was dead. "He had to believe that he was Michael's son. They would not have taken him any other way. They owed a debt to Michael Wayland and that was how they repaid it. That was how they loved Jonathan."
"They're his family. Not you." Clary told him. "They loved him for him, not because of who they thought he was."
Valentine shrugged. "They were his protection, not his family. He is a Morgenstern, not a Lightwood. I am his family. Eliza is his family."
Jace made a coughing noise deep in his throat. "And my mother? Our mother?"
Valentine gave him a sympathetic look. "She fled after the Uprising, as you know. Jocelyn couldn't bear to be associated with me or the Morgenstern name anymore. I was unaware of her early pregnancy at the time." He glanced at Clary. "How fate works, it is a mystery. But blood will also call to blood, my children. This is what I have wanted. My family, together and whole again. Your addition, Clary, is a surprise but a great one." He smiled, wide and terrifyingly brilliant. Eliza had never been more uncomfortable. "We can use the Portal to go back to Idris. To go home."
Idris, Eliza recalled. Beautiful beyond the description of words. The true home to all Shadowhunters. She looked to Jace. He was nodding along, agreeing to go back.
She couldn't leave him with Valentine. She wouldn't betray him like that. "Home sounds like a very lovely idea, Father." She sounded as sweet and compliant as she could.
Home, to her, did not sound lovely. Not his idea of home. The five of them together sounded preposterous. Jace, who's brain was rattled with revelation upon revelation; Clary, who quite possibly wanted to murder Valentine; Jocelyn, lying in a self-induced coma; and Eliza, only compliant because of Jace.
And Jonathan. The real Jonathan. Where the hell was he?
"Me and my mom aren't going anywhere with you." Clary hissed.
Jace sighed, relaxing his shoulders. "Clary, it's the only place we can go."
Something on the floor below crashed, the noise deafening as thunder. Eliza's head whipped back towards the door.
"Father." Jace said softly. He stood, hand on his belt.
A soldier, Eliza thought wistfully, well-trained by the ultimate puppet master.
Valentine stood, massive over the three children. "They're close." He muttered.
Eliza stood up slowly as the door flung open. Luke Garroway- no, she reminded herself, Lucian Greymark- stood before them. His clothes were soaked with blood. Not just him. He was bloody. It was unclear if it was his own or the blood of someone else.
Clary darted across the room, clutching to him. Eliza felt her nose wrinkled in disgust. She'd just covered herself in blood. Luke hugged her back gently.
"Lucian, whose blood do you wear?" Valentine's voice rang out. Both Clary and Luke looked to him. Luke clutched Clary protectively. Jace stood behind Valentine, Eliza off to the side.
"Pangborn's." Luke said it simply.
Valentine frowned, eyes scanning over Luke. "And you ripped him apart with your teeth, I see."
Luke said no. He produced a dagger, holding it out for Valentine to see. A blue stone glittered on the hilt. "With this, actually. Do you remember it?" Eliza watched her father's expression change. Luke held a kindjal, the match to the one Valentine had given Jace. "You should." Luke told him. "You put it in my hand seventeen years ago and told me to kill myself with it. And you almost had me, you almost convinced me to do it."
Her father's shoulders tightened. "I do not deny that." He spoke, voice tight with pain. She had never heard him sound pained before. She almost enjoyed it. "I was trying to save you, Lucian. I should have killed you myself. Then you would have died the man you used to be."
She sucked in a breath after his words. There was little remorse in his voice, filled with hatred. "A man such as yourself? A man who chains his comatose wife to a bed so that when she awakens, he can torture her for information?"
Valentine's hand twitched. "Jocelyn is chained for her protection, not her injury." He said smoothly. "I would never hurt her. I loved her. I still feel love for her."
Luke took a step closer. "What does she need protection from other than you? You have always been the threat to her. She ran away to protect herself from you." Luke's voice was seeping in years of anger and betrayal.
"You turned her against me!" Valentine shouted.
On instinct, Eliza flinched, shrinking back. She had once conditioned herself to not react when he raised his voice. But it had been months and everything she had trained in herself was gone.
Luke laughed at his old friend, his parabatai. "Jocelyn never needed me for that. She grew to hate you all on her own."
"Lies!" Valentine roared, his sword out. Eliza's heart hammered in her chest. Phaesphoros, Light-Bringer. The longsword to match her short-sword. The beauty of it still stunned her. The matte black of the sword, the silver stars falling down the blade. The tip of the blade pointed straight at Luke's heart.
"Father, wait." Jace pleaded.
"Silence, Jonathan!" He shouted at him, never turning his head.
Shock registered on Luke's face. He stared at Jace, his eyes moving to Eliza. "Jonathan and Eliza." He whispered. "The twins."
"Call me that again and I'll kill you myself." Jace told Luke. Eliza saw the fire in his golden eyes, the tightness of his mouth.
Luke's shoulders slumped. "Your mother would be proud of the both of you. She told me when you came to her, Eliza. She was…elated is an understatement. I hadn't seen her glow like that in years."
Jace was shaking. She saw the tremble over his body. "I have no mother." Jace's voice was as acidic as she'd ever heard it. "She abandoned me before I could even remember her, like I was nothing to her. So, she is nothing to me."
Luke turned his gaze back to Valentine. Astonishment and disgust were a mixture on his expression. "I used to think so highly of you, old friend. But now I realize that you were not above using your children as your pawns, as your bait."
The presence of her knives on her wrists made her alert as ever. No matter what Jace did, if Valentine moved to hurt anyone, she'd land a knife in him. And she wasn't above patricide.
"Let go of my daughter." Valentine told Luke. "Let her go, Lucian, or this blade will pierce your heart."
Luke pushed Clary away just as she said she was no daughter of Valentine. "Go, Clary. Go somewhere safe." Luke told her sternly. The way a father talked to a daughter. The way Valentine had never talked to Eliza. "Get out of here. Now."
Luke had his dagger pointed to Valentine. Clary stumbled towards the door. Jace moved quickly, blocking her exit. "You can't. The Forsaken will rip into you like dogs."
She shoved at him, but he didn't move.
Eliza moved out of the way just as her father struck at Luke. Her feet moved quickly, getting her across the room.
"Do something." Clary hissed. "I know you. I know you don't believe in any of this." She told her quietly.
Eliza stared in bewilderment. "I can do nothing." She told her. "This isn't my fight. Not yet."
Eosphoros seemed to burn on her back.
Luke hit her father in the shoulder. Blood stained Valentine's white shirt. "You turned her against me. You filled her with hatred when she was weak." Valentine seethed. "You made Jocelyn a fool!"
Eliza looked at Jace, gauging his reaction. "They're talking about your mother." Clary whispered.
"Mother?" Jace questioned the title. "She abandoned me."
Eliza turned on him. Her green eyes were dark. She was fed up with him. He believed everything. He was naïve, soft, just as he had been all those years ago. He was no Jonathan Morgenstern. Not by one million miles.
"You were dead to her." Eliza told Jace, her voice restrained. "She was sure that you were dead. That we were both dead. The day I went to her, she looked like she had seen a ghost when she looked at me. And when I told her you were alive, she nearly cried. There are mothers who abandon their children. She is not one of them."
Jace stared back at her, his eyes almost as dark as hers. "She could have been pretending." But she heard the doubt in his voice.
"She wasn't." Clary said softly. "She kept two small boxes hidden in her room. One with a J.C. and one with an E.S. Jace, she kept a lock of your baby hair in your box and a photograph. Eliza, yours had a photograph in it and a rattle. She'd take them out once a year, lock herself in her room and she would cry. The sounds she made…she was destroyed because she thought she had lost the two of you."
"Stop it." Jace said through gritted teeth. "Stop."
Clary glanced at Eliza and she nodded. Keep going, she said. He needed to hear it. "I'm telling you the truth. She would have never left if she thought you were alive. I swear. When she saw the house in flames, she saw the ruins. The bones of her parents. The bones of children. Two small children."
Both Jace and Eliza stared at her. Bones. Bones didn't argue. And there they stood, alive and well. Jace was not Jonathan, but Jonathan was alive. And so was Eliza.
"A glamour…" Jace whispered. "It had to be. We're standing right here. We're alive."
Clary raised her eyebrows. "Ask him if the bones of our mother's parents were a glamour as well. Is he hiding them somewhere, like he hid the two of you?"
"Clary, shut up!" Jace yelled at her. Eliza had never heard him shout like that, full of raw anger. His eyes were wide with it.
Clary stumbled backward and Eliza's hand reached out, steadying her, keeping her from falling. Out of the corner of her eye, Eliza saw Luke look over at them. Valentine thrusted forward, striking Luke in the chest with his sword.
Luke gasped. Eliza felt Clary go still in her grasp. Valentine struck him again, knocking the kindjal from Luke's grip. He kicked it away as it hit the floor. Valentine's cold laugh echoed in the room.
Valentine raised his sword, ready to deliver a fatal blow.
Clary jerked out of her grasp and ran for Luke, diving on the ground next to him. Eliza slipped her knives from her wrists. The sword went down. Jace pushed her back, standing in front of her. Clary's hands went up to shield herself.
Eliza heard the loud clang of the longsword clattering to the floor. Her father shouted in pain. His hand was bleeding. Jace's dagger was on the ground near the longsword.
Eliza looked at Jace. His arm was outstretched. He had landed the throw. Just as good as she would have.
His arm fell and his face lost color as he realized what he had done. As Valentine's eyes fell on them. He looked at Eliza, knives in her hands. And then he looked to Jace. "Father…" Jace murmured.
Eliza saw the flicker of rage on Valentine's face. She wondered if she had been the only one. "An excellent throw, son. Though I thought you sister had the affinity for throwing knives."
Of course. He had thought it was her. She was defiant enough. She had turned against him once. Why not another time?
Jace's mouth worked as he tried to form a response. "Your hand…" He said slowly.
Valentine plucked his sword from the floor. "You thought I aimed to hurt your sister. I would never have done that, Jonathan." He picked up the dagger, placing it in his belt. "I commend you for your concern over your younger sister."
Eliza turned her gaze to Luke. He looked like death had a hold on him and would not let go. He lay on his back, his eyes rolling. His own blood stained his shirt.
"I need a bandage. Something to stop the bleeding." Clary said.
Jace moved to get something in his pocket. "Jonathan." Valentine's voice was hard as steel. A no-room-for-argument voice. Valentine turned to Clary. "Clarissa, I understand that you were not raised as a Shadowhunter, so this must be confusing for you. But Lucian is an enemy of our family and an enemy of the Clave. As Shadowhunters, we must also be killers at some points in time. Do you understand?"
Clary's eyes flashed at him with anger. Eliza liked her more and more as time passed. They had the same fire in them. "We hunt and we kill demons. We aren't murderers." Clary told him. "If you can't see the difference, something is wrong with you."
"My dear Clarissa," Valentine's voice was unnervingly soft, "Lucian is a demon. A monster with the face of a man I once knew and loved. Monsters are deceptive. It's their nature."
Oh, he's done it now, Eliza thought. Rage passed on Clary's face. "He isn't a monster. You're the monster." Clary seethed at him.
Eliza refrained from smiling. She really liked Clary. A spitfire of a girl. Jace shouted at her.
"You're a murderer." Clary went on. "You murdered my grandparents in cold blood. And I would bet my life that you killed Michael Wayland and his son to stage yours' and Jace's deaths in the fire. I bet you put your necklace around Michael's neck so my mom would think that he was you. You killed innocent people. You're a monster."
Eliza whistled lowly. Her father's face was pinched in anger. "Enough, Clarissa." She recognized the quiet rage in his voice. He raised his sword. "One of you remove your sister from the situation or I will knock her out of my way to kill the monster behind her."
She secured her knives in the braces on her wrist. Eliza said nothing as she crossed the room. "Get up." She told Clary. Her sister stared up at her, green eyes wide. "Clary, do as I tell you. Get. Up." Clary didn't move, face hard with defiance. Eliza rolled her eyes. She grabbed Clary by the arms and yanked her to her feet.
And then she shoved Clary out of the way. In a flash, Clary was near Jace and Eliza had her short-sword out.
She was tall, only a few inches shorter than her father. She had always felt small compared to him. She realized then it was because he made her feel that way, not with his stature, but with how he acted towards her. His dominance over her entire life.
"Liz. Stop." Jace begged.
Valentine, not very shocked, raised his eyebrows inquisitively. "Eliza, what are you doing?"
She stared back at him, her gaze hard. She swallowed. "What I should have done a long time ago. I let you dictate my entire life. I listened to you for years, I looked at you with false adoration and you had no idea. You ruined me. But then you sent me here. You let me go. That was your mistake. You-."
"I was testing you. I didn't trust you."
She laughed, all smiles and bright eyes. "You think I didn't know that? You think that I didn't realize what I was to you? I was never your daughter. I was your insurance. You can play family with Jace all you want." She didn't look at him. She didn't dare cast her glance away from her father. "Jace, he spoiled you. He indulged you and he gave you the world. He let you see the world. Do you know what I saw? The Glass City from the windows of a cottage. Do you know what I got? Lashes whenever my behavior wasn't satisfactory. I've got the scars to prove it."
Eosphoros was balanced. Made perfectly for her. The blood of Lucifer infused in the blade. A strong sword, made stronger with the blood of a Prince of Hell.
"I will no longer let you ruin me, Father. For too long have you been at your own." Her grip tightened on the hilt, the rubies cutting into her palm. "If you want to kill Luke, you'll fight me for him. If you win, his life is yours to take. And if I win, his life is spared. And if you don't want to fight me, you can kill me before you kill him. Those are the only ways you can have his life."
Her father smiled down at her. It wasn't a cold smile. It was fond. "You are full of fire, my daughter. Just like your mother. You are brave, but your bravery is of the stupid kind. You would give your life for a beast? For a beast like the one that killed your grandfather? I raised you better. I raised you to be smarter."
She lowered her sword, but didn't sheath it. "Don't lie, Father. You raised me to be a weapon of your bidding."
Valentine eyed his sword and then looked back at her. "Eliza Seraphine, I named you after my mother. I adored her, just the way I hoped you would adore me. I see I have failed you in being a father. A hatred burns inside you and for that, I am sorry." Sorry? He wasn't sorry. He was never sorry. "I will not fight you, Eliza. I will not fight you and I will not kill you. But I will have Lucian's life."
He thrusted his arm out, knocking her out of his way. She fell to the floor, her head smacking against the concrete floor. Her short-sword fell beside her, clattering as the metal hit the hard concrete.
Valentine stood over Luke, sword pointed down. "I wish I had real silver. The right way to kill a beast like yourself."
Jace held Clary back, and though Clary's struggle was evident, Jace was too strong. Luke struggled to stand.
"Well, Valentine, if you're going to insist on my death. Let me die on my feet."
Valentine was silent for a moment, as if he were truly considering that an option. And then he shrugged mercilessly. "No. Only men die on their feet. You'll die on your knees or your back. I'll let you decide."
Clary and Jace were arguing in hushed voices, she couldn't hear them. Luke got to his knees. His lips murmured, voice too quiet for her to hear.
She saw Jace push Clary down on the floor. His gaze caught hers. There was a different look in his eyes. One she didn't quite recognize. He gave her a single nod.
A nod that meant everything.
Eliza slipped a knife from her brace and launched it. It landed in Valentine's forearm. He howled out in pain, dropping the longsword. Jace ran and jumped in front of Luke. He pushed him out of the way, standing in front of Valentine's sword.
"ELIZA!" Valentine roared. He yanked the knife from his arm and let it fall to the floor. And then he saw Jace, standing in front of him. Standing in the place of Luke.
Eliza got to her feet. Jace wasn't looking at her. His gaze was on Valentine. "You need to leave." Jace told him.
"Excuse me?" Valentine breathed. "What did you say to me?"
Luke was sitting up. "You heard me, Father. You need to leave."
Valentine's face was red with rage. "Jonathan Morgenstern, how d-."
Jace picked the sword up from the floor and pointed it at Valentine. He glanced at Eliza, look pleading. She picked up her short-sword and joined Jace at his side. Valentine stared back at them.
"My name," Jace said calmly, slowly, "is Jace Wayland. Not Jonathan Morgenstern."
Eliza wanted to look at him so badly, to see his face. But she didn't dare move her gaze from her father.
Valentine's eye twitched. "You are not a Wayland. There is none of that blood in you. Michael Wayland is no one but a stranger to you."
She heard Jace swallowed thickly. "As are you. Now leave." He jerked the sword to the left, towards the door.
"You expect me to take my orders from a child?" Valentine laughed. The tip of Phaesphoros touched Valentine's neck.
Eliza said no. "You'll take your orders from two children. Children you extensively trained to kill. The way Jace is holding that sword against your throat, if he moves, just barely moves two of his fingers, you're dead. And I…Well, you know what I'm capable of."
Valentine barely breathed. He was still, unmoving. "Yes, the two of you are great warriors. But you're flawed. The both of you are weak, softhearted. You wouldn't kill me. You can't."
Eliza cocked her head to the side. Luke spoke before she could. "They may not have the hearts to kill you, Valentine. But I know I do." He was on his feet. "And I know that neither of them could stop me. Though, from the look on her face, I'm not sure Eliza would bother trying."
She let herself crack a smile. Valentine looked from the two of them to Luke and then back. "Jonathan, the wolf is threatening my life. You're going to side with it?"
She knew, she knew without look, Jace had that pleasantly amused expression on his face. "Werewolves are very fast. I doubt I could stop him if I wanted to."
Valentine turned to Eliza, black eyes flared with fury. She didn't falter under his gaze as she once had. "You." He spat. "You turned him against me. You turned my son against me."
She shrugged at him. "No. I think you did that on your own."
The only thing holding him back was the sword at his throat. "Look at the two of you. A pair. Just like your mother. Betraying me for the beast."
Eliza produced a full-fledged smile. "Well, you did tell me that I reminded you of her. Don't act so shocked."
Jace's hand trembled, the sword shaking slightly. She knew if he faltered, she could not. She'd have to drive her sword home, straight through her father.
If she did, she'd tell Jace the truth. All of it as she knew it. They weren't brother and sister. They weren't even related.
"Yes." Jace said evenly. "You left me. You let me think you were dead. You lied. You told me my mother was dead. You never told me that I had a mother or sisters. And when you left me, I was alone."
"To protect you!" Valentine shouted. "I did all of that to protect you!"
Protection. What did he know of protection?
"You say you care," Clary started, "but if you cared about either of them, you wouldn't have spilled innocent blood. You killed their grandparents. You can't blame them for being a little upset."
Eliza gave an agreeing noise.
"No one is innocent, Clarissa. They all sided with Jocelyn. And if she would have had her way, she would have taken my children away from me!"
Ah, Eliza thought, he's done it now. There was no control to him. All of him was pure rage, hot and fatal.
The tendons in Valentine's arms were stretched and tight, the ones in his neck sticking out. "Are you saying you knew Jocelyn was going to run?" Luke asked quietly.
"Only a fool would have thought otherwise." He hissed in reply. "I gave Adele and Granville something they could have only dreamed of. I gave them a funeral pyre reserved for only the best of Shadowhunters."
Admittance. He'd really screwed himself over in Jace's eyes then. Admitting he set the manor on fire. Admitting he murdered Jocelyn's parents.
"You set the fire." Clary's voice was plain.
"Oh, yes." Valentine's voice was thick with fire. "I burned them."
Jace made a noise in his throat. He was shaking, the sword uneven.
"Congratulations, Father. You've lost your son." Eliza's voice was unwaveringly warm. "Now, tell us where the Mortal Cup is. Hand it over and you get to live."
"I can't do that." He said evenly. "The Cup is in Idris. Somewhere you'll never find it." Eliza said she would. He chuckled. "You think you know all my secrets, Eliza, but you're wrong. You know nothing."
"Jonathan, give me the sword. Please."
From the corner of her eye, she could see that Luke was standing behind Jace, his hand on his shoulder. Jace, sounding far away, said he couldn't.
"Yes, you can." Clary told him.
There was a long moment where Eliza was sure Jace was going to shove the sword into Valentine. And then Luke's hand was over Jace's on the hilt of Phaesphoros. "Jace, let go." Luke's voice was assuring and soft.
She saw Jace move backward, letting Luke have the sword. Now, Luke stood in his place, beside her. Sword at Valentine's throat.
"Eliza, you can go. Join your brother and sister." Luke told her.
A hollow laugh escaped from her. "No chance in hell, Greymark." She told him. "If anyone gets to draw his blood, I want it to be me."
She heard him draw in a breath of surprise. He hadn't expected her to be so resilient, to be stubborn. For who could be stubborn under the hand of Valentine?
"I do have a suggestion." Valentine announced.
Luke smiled thinly. "If it's asking for your life to be spared, keep your mouth shut. I'm not going to kill you unless I have to. All I want is the Cup. Though Eliza…"
"I won't kill you." Eliza told her father. "I want to, but I won't unless you make a move to hurt someone. I won't be a careless murderer like you."
A roaring noise came from downstairs. The Forsaken. Eliza swallowed the lump in her throat.
"The Angel's Cup in in Idris, as I told you before." Valentine sighed. His gaze shifted to the door.
Luke nodded. "You have a Portal here. You and I will go through the Portal to Idris to get the Cup." There was a pause as he took a breath. "Eliza, once we've gone through the Portal, take your brother and sister and go somewhere safe through the Portal. Anywhere you can think of."
Magnus, she thought. Magnus was safe.
My, little dove. I was wondering when I'd hear from you.
His voice was a beacon of hope in her mind. She had forgotten about him, about the link.
I can tell my spell on your mind has shattered. How do you feel?
She chuckled lowly. I feel like committing a bit of patricide today.
"Eliza." Luke called out.
She nodded once. "I've got a place in mind already."
A clear look of disgust passed over her father's face. It burned him from the inside out that she had Magnus. "Your friendship with the warlock is nauseating, Eliza. I expected better from you."
She said that no, he hadn't expected better from her.
"The Portal, Valentine." Luke reminded him.
He held up his hands and took a step back. The door exploded inward. Luke ducked, Eliza whirled around, sword pointed towards the potential threat.
It was a wolf. She lowered her sword. It was one of Luke's wolves. Luke was shouting at the wolf.
Eliza turned just in time to see the dagger in her father's hand. It left his hand, slicing through the air right towards Luke. She saw the wolf jump in front of Luke and the blade striking home, landing in a mass of fur.
"Your wolves die for you and you let them. Pathetic." Valentine spat.
Luke dropped to his knees at the side of the wolf. Valentine turned and started towards the windows and the mirror. She darted towards him, standing in his way.
"Father. I will not let you go."
And then Jace was beside her. His hand close to hers. Her fingers itched, but she restrained herself. "Liz, it's fine." He told her. "I'll go with him to Idris and get the Cup. I'll bring it back. You hold down the fort."
"Let me go." She told him. He stared questioningly. "I know him better, Jace. I'm better prepared."
Valentine chuckled. "The Cup is not far. Idris is only through a looking glass."
She glanced back at the mirror. The Portal. Jace hadn't known, he'd been asleep when they came through.
Valentine ran his hand along the edge of the mirror. The image on the glass stirred and changed into something new. The fields of Idris were green with life, the trees tall and lively. Her body ached to be back in Idris.
But that was not her home. Home was at the Institute. With Alec and Izzy and Jace. And now, Clary.
"I see the desire in your eyes, Eliza. You long to be back. And you, Jonathan, doesn't it all look the same as it did?"
So that was Wayland Manor, Eliza thought. Much nicer than the small cottage she was raised in.
"Which of you will come?" Valentine asked. "It doesn't have to be only one. Both can come home."
Eliza said no. "Home is the Institute. For both of us." Jace agreed quietly.
Valentine's features twisted. Eliza had seen the look so many times. Disappointment wrapped thickly in anger. She saw Clary flinch at the expression. Valentine put one leg through the Portal and stepped through into Idris. Jace moved closer to the Portal.
"Don't go." Clary called to him.
Eliza put her hand on his wrist. He looked back at her. "We stay." She whispered. "The Clave can retrieve the Cup."
Valentine was so close, but so far. Only inches away, but also miles away. "You'll have to kill me before I give you the Cup." Valentine said. "And you don't have it in you, Jonathan. And though I know your sister does, she is no match for me. I'll kill her before she can touch me."
Jace's hands shook.
Valentine's fist flew. Eliza jerked Jace back for a blow that never arrived. Valentine's fist connected with the glass of the mirror Portal. The glass shattered at their feet. She could still hear Valentine's laughter even after the image of him was gone.
Jace looked at Eliza. "I could have killed him." He said. "I could have."
She gave him a soft look, shaking her head. "I don't know, Jace. I really don't." She looked back at Luke. He had covered the wolf in Valentine's coat. "Is your friend…Is he...?"
Luke nodded, standing up. "Alaric is dead."
Guilt surged in her. "I saw the knife. I should have acted quicker. If I had, your friend might still be alive."
Luke looked at her sympathetically. "Maybe so. But you can't blame yourself, Eliza. You were faced by your father and though you try and deny it and push it away, I know that you fear him. You can train yourself to not shake or not flinch, but the look of fear in your eyes does not go away with training."
She turned away. Her eyes fell on the shattered Portal.
"He got away. He has the Cup." Jace mumbled. "We put it in his hands."
Eliza dropped her sword to the ground. She rubbed her face with her hands. "I asked Magnus for the block. I asked him to take away everything I knew because I thought I was protecting you." She said quietly. "I thought if Valentine saw that I didn't know anything, he'd have no reason to hurt any of you. But because of that, I was blind, and I didn't know anything. I gave Hodge the Cup. I let him summon Valentine to the Institute. I tried to protect you, but I failed you instead."
"You didn't fail, Liz." Jace told her. "You did what you thought was right."
She looked at him. Her brother. Valentine was gone, far away in Idris. She could tell Jace, tell him the truth. But fear ate away at her. Who knew if he was still watching? She had to be careful, play it safe.
Jace had to believe he was her brother. No matter how much it broke her heart.