She was, in every possible sense of the word, uncomfortable. She stared back at herself in the mirror of the dressing room. She groaned, pushing her hair back from her face. This was so no her at all.

There was a sharp rapping on the door. "Liz, come on. Just let us see." Clary's voice came through.

Heaving a sigh, Eliza pushed open the door and stepped out. Clary was standing off a little to the side, wearing an identical dress. Simon had perched himself on top of one of the stiff-looking white chairs. Maia was sitting on the floor, her back pressed against the wall. She had some sort of object in her hands, staring intently down at it, her fingers moving rapidly.

"Don't you two girls look lovely!" A woman in all black passed by. If she hadn't been wearing a name tag emblazoned with 'Karyn's Bridal Shop' and the name Lisa, Eliza would have assumed that she was just another shopper instead of an employee. Eliza smiled tightly as Clary said thank you. "It's so nice to see bridesmaids getting along without the bride around! You two have been friends for a long time, then?"

Both of them laughed, shaking their heads. "We're sisters. Our mom is getting married." Eliza told her.

She could see the subtle glances between the two of them, trying to figure out how they were related. They barely looked alike. Clary had taken after Jocelyn and Eliza looked startingly like her father. "Oh, that's so sweet. There's no better bridesmaids for a woman than her daughters." With an unpleasantly large smile, the woman walked away to help someone else fit into a dress.

"You guys look really nice." Simon told them.

The dress really wasn't that bad. It was pretty, gorgeous even. Jocelyn had left the decision up to Clary and Eliza for choosing a dress and Eliza had backed out, letting Clary have all the control. Clary had chosen a simple dress made of a fine silk the color of copper. It had thin straps that complemented her narrow shoulders.

Clary huffed, "Just really nice?" Simon returned a sheepish look but said nothing. "Well, what do you think?" Clary turned to Maia.

She looked up from the silvery object in her hands. "I am so not the girl to ask." Maia told her. "If I could, I'd wear jeans and a t-shirt to the wedding."

Eliza knew exactly how she felt. She would have felt much more comfortable wearing gear to the wedding. She didn't know how well she'd be able to fight off a surprise demon attack in the long bridesmaid gown. Isabelle, with no doubt, could do it. Eliza liked pretty clothes just as well as Izzy did. She just wasn't sure she could fight as well in them. Izzy always managed to kick ass in long dresses and skirts. Eliza could do the same, only in shorter fashions.

The bell that hung over the door to the shop chimed as the door opened. Jocelyn walked in, Luke following behind her. They each had a cup of coffee. Jocelyn's shining eyes were on Luke and her cheeks were flushed pink.

She looked over at Eliza and Clary, eyes widening. "Oh, my." She rushed over to them after thrusting her coffee into Luke's hands. "You two look absolutely stunning!"

Grinning, Clary said, "You have to say that, you're our mom."

Luke handed Clary one of the coffee cups in his hand. "Black. Consider it an apology since we're late." He handed the other cup to Eliza. "Tea for you. Chai, right?"

She nodded. "Thanks."

Clary asked why they had been late. Luke said there was a catering matter they'd had to tie up. Maia stood up. She and Luke began talking about the party down at Ironworks that his wolf pack was throwing to celebrate his upcoming wedding. The owner of the bridal shop, Karyn, came up to Jocelyn.

"Jocelyn! Great, you're here. Your dress just got back in and it looks spectacular. Why don't you come try it on?" The woman was taller than Eliza, which was saying something since Eliza was taller than both her mom and her sister. She took Jocelyn by the arm and led her toward the back of the store. Threateningly, the woman told Luke to stay put.

Luke sat down in one of the armchairs, brow furrowed. Eliza's mouth turned down. "Why aren't you allowed to see her in the dress?" She asked Luke.

He shrugged, saying he didn't know. "It's a mundane custom." Clary told them. "They think it's bad luck for the groom to see the bride in the dress, especially right before the ceremony." Luke said that he'd only come because Jocelyn had wanted his opinion.

Eliza's nose scrunched. That sounded like the dumbest thing she had ever heard. "Do Shadowhunters have any kind of wedding customs or traditions?" Maia asked them.

Eliza sat down on the raised platform they had been standing on. She rested her chin on her knees, looking up at Luke. "Yeah, actually. But this isn't going to be a typical Shadowhunter wedding. Since I'm a werewolf." Maia asked what that had to do with anything. "One of the main customs in Shadowhunter weddings is the Wedded Union runes. The bride and groom each get them. They're permanent, binding, the way marriage is supposed to be. The runes are meant to symbolize the love and commitment between the two. But since I'm not a Shadowhunter anymore, Jocelyn and I are just going to exchange rings." Maia said that it kind of sucked that he couldn't indulge in the real Shadowhunter wedding experience. Luke smiled, shaking his head. "I'm getting all I ever really wanted. Marrying Jocelyn is all that matters, not the details." Luke started talking about how things were changing, especially with the new Council being started.

"Hey, Clary! Come back here!" Jocelyn yelled out. Clary chugged her coffee and hurried back to back of the store.

Maia looked at Eliza. "You're a girl." She stated. Eliza let out a short laugh, saying that was right. "Did you ever fantasize about your wedding when you were little? Like, who you were going to share those runes with? What your dress would look like? Your dad walking you down the-." Maia stopped herself. She stared back with wide eyes. "Oh, God. I'm an idiot."

"It's fine." Eliza assured her. If she was being honest, none of it had ever really crossed her mind. "To answer your question, no." She finally said. "I never thought about getting married. I didn't think I'd ever get the chance."

Maia's eyes softened. She stood up, handing Simon's little object back to him. "And on that note, I'm gonna go. I'm meeting some friends." She bent low, kissing him on the cheek. "Charge your DS, I think it died." She waved by to Luke and Eliza. "Bye, baby." As she walked out of the bridal shop, Eliza fixed her eyes on Simon.

"Simon, you scoundrel. Dating two girls at once, I never would have thought." And if either of them found out, Simon was dead meat. Izzy no doubt knew at least a dozen different ways to torture him to death and Maia could tear him apart with her teeth.

"Seriously." Clary came back. "If you don't tell them before the wedding, I will." Eliza said she'd help her. "I'm going to go change." Clary flounced back into her dressing room.

Luke asked what was going on with Simon. For a few moments, Simon didn't say anything. Finally, he looked between the two of them, "Do either of you know a vampire named Camille?"

A sour taste filled her mouth. She only knew of one vampire by that name and she didn't like anything that she had heard of her.

"How do you know her?" Luke asked, leaning forward in his chair.

Simon cut his eyes. "You know, I do know a little something about the New York vampire clan."

Luke gave him a sympathetic smile and assured Simon he meant no harm. "By the time I took charge of my pack, Camille had left and put Raphael in charge in her absence. I don't know much about her, but I know she's a legend among Downworlders." Luke explained to Simon. "She's old, which means she's very powerful. Her cruelty and cunningness rivals that of the Fair Folk."

"And she's a bitch." Eliza interjected. Both of them looked at her. Luke asked how she knew Camille. "She and Magnus have a…a complicated history. He isn't her biggest fan and from what he's told me, neither am I. I would stay far away from her."

"Why are you asking about her?" Luke inquired. Simon noncommittedly shrugged and only said that Raphael had mentioned her. Luke nodded thoughtfully, although new creases had appeared on his forehead. "And you've seen him recently? Raphael?"

Just as Simon was about to answer him, the bell above the door chimed. She turned on instinct. Jace walked into the bridal shop, hands shoved in his pockets. She stood up, smoothing out the dress.

He stopped in his tracks, his eyes locked on her. She saw him swallow. "Wow." Was all he said.

"Now you see, Simon," Eliza turned to him, "that's how you're meant to react." She walked over to Jace, kissing the side of his mouth. When she backed away, she saw the dark shadows under his eyes. Despite the chill outside, Jace hadn't bothered with a jacket, wearing only a long sleeve thermal shirt and jeans. "I'm going to go change. Be right back."

Jace's hand fell from hers as she walked away. She went back into her dressing room and carefully pulled the dress from her body. She put it back on the hanger and then in the garment bag. She pulled on her jeans and the dark sweater back on and slipped on her boots. She grabbed her jacket and the garment bag and walked out of the dressing room.

Clary was sitting on the edge of Simon's seat, still in her dress. Her hair was pinned up on her head, light reflecting on little pieces of the sparkling pins holding it in place. There were a few curls that hung down framing her face. She threw her hands in the air. "Karyn got her hands on me."

"What are you doing here?" Eliza asked Jace. "Aren't you supposed to be at a Conclave meeting?"

Luke asked if there was any news about the body they had found in the park. "All we know is that he wasn't a member of the New York Conclave. Neither of the bodies have been identified yet, but the Silent Brothers have them now." Jace told them. He took his hands from his pockets. "Clary, do you still have my jacket? You borrowed it yesterday at the park. I need it back."

Clary motioned to a brown suede jacket slung over the back of one of the white chairs. Eliza had recognized it as Jace's but had said nothing. There was nothing she needed to worry about, not between Jace and Clary. "I was going to send it back with Eliza." She told him.

Jace plucked the jacket up and hurriedly put it on. "And now neither of you have to worry about it." He replied.

She gripped the garment bag, holding it close to her chest. Luke glanced at her before looking back at Jace. "Hey, we're going to Park Slope for dinner. Why don't you join us?" He asked Jace.

Jace deftly zipped up the jacket, saying no. "I have to go. Training." Clary said that they trained yesterday. "And some of us train every single day." He bit back. "See you guys later." He practically vaulted out of the bridal shop without even looking at Eliza.

Luke stood up. He took the garment bag from her. "Weddings make guys nervous." He excused. She smiled uneasily, saying she would be right back.

She put her jacket on and jogged out of the store. Jace was walking down the sidewalk, head ducked down toward the ground. She sped up until she was walking alongside him.

"Jace." She grabbed his arm, stopping him. "What's going on?" She asked softly.

He didn't look back at her. "I have to go, Eliza."

"Is this about the park yesterday?" She asked. "Look, I didn't mean to upset you, but you know how badly the Seelie Queen gets-."

"Eliza, not everything is about you and not everything is about us."

She took a step back, dropping his arm. "Whatever is going on, you can talk to me."

His eyes darkened as he stared at her. "Did you ever stop and think that maybe I wanted to just be alone? Can you, just for five seconds, pull yourself out of your own head and realize that for once, nothing is going on and we're just living our lives. This is how life is when your family isn't around to screw everything up."

If she hadn't heard the words come from his mouth, she wouldn't have ever believed he had actually said what he did. She bit down, locking her jaw. Something inside of her buckled. She wanted to scream, to throw words at him. She wanted to hurt him.

She felt it, the familiar cold creeping in, manifesting inside of her. She hated it. She hated how good it felt. How good it made her feel.

She knew that if she were to look in a mirror, she would have seen the same darkness in her eyes that Jonathan had once had.

"Don't bother calling later." She said, voice surprisingly even. "In fact, don't bother calling me again until you pull that stick out of your ass and adjust your attitude."

She turned on her heel, storming away from him.

For once, the silence was comforting. There was no eerie feeling that crept over her. She didn't feel the need to look over her back to make sure no one was standing behind her. To make sure Jonathan wasn't standing behind her.

Chairman Meow followed her to her bedroom. She cleaned the pathway to her closet. Her room wasn't as messy as Izzy's room, but it wasn't what Jace considered clean either. There were a few articles of clothing scattered around the room, some unnamed seraph blades on the desk, and several books all over the room. Opening her closet, her eyes immediately drifted to the top of the closet. Hidden behind several duffle bags and a suitcase were two boxes. One was a pretty silver box with two delicate letters, surrounded by falling stars engraved on the lid of the box. Inside of it was an old photograph of a woman and a baby girl, and a silver rattle that had an S on it.

The box had been Jocelyn's, something she had kept for fifteen years after fleeing Idris after the Uprising. The week they had returned from Idris a few weeks ago, Jocelyn had shown up at Magnus' apartment, the box in her hands. She gave the box to Eliza and together they had looked at the old photograph and talked for hours.

The other box, she didn't ever want to open. It was an old and wooden, nothing special to it. The only thing that was in the box was a brown leather-bound journal. It had been her father's, a way for him to write down everything about her. All of her failures over the years, how much he had despised her. He'd kept them for Jonathan too, and she supposed some for Jace as well.

What she'd read of the journal had been heartbreaking enough. He had raised her only out of familial obligation and still, he had hoped she would die. Or fail on a large enough scale that he would be in good enough conscience to kill her. Which, she knew for a fact, she had done.

He had killed her.

The dull ringing of her phone pulled her out of her thoughts. She slammed shut the doors of her closet and went back to the living room. She plucked her phone up from its spot on top of a leaning tower of books.

Clary, the flashing little screen read.

"Is everything okay?" She answered the call.

"Not really." Clary replied. "I need you to meet us one at the New York Marble Cemetery." Eliza asked who constituted as 'us.' "Me, Luke, and Maryse. Hurry." There was a clicking noise. Clary had hung up on her.

Eliza looked down at Chairman Meow. She had fed him an hour ago, but he always looked at her like she had forgotten to fill his bowl for the third day in a row. "Be back in a bit, little guy." She ruffled the top of his head carefully.

Pocketing her phone, she went back to her room. She grabbed a jacket and stuffed two seraph blades into the inside pockets. Cuffing the braces around her wrists, she put a small throwing knife in each.

Her sword was propped up on the seat of the desk. Deciding against it, she left her room.

It took a cab ride and a short walk for her to reach the cemetery. Clary, Luke, and Maryse Lightwood were waiting for her by a large statue of an angel holding a cup. Raziel.

"I suppose we aren't here to pay respects to anyone?" She asked. "So, who wants to tell me what's going on?"

Clary and Luke looked between each other. Luke explained to her that the dead Shadowhunters that had been discovered throughout the week (now three since another body had been found) were all former members of the Circle. Each body had been found in Downworlder territory.

"And here I thought we were done with all of this nonsense." Eliza mumbled. "What's the plan?" She asked Clary.

Clary relayed the basic details of the plan. It sounded insane, but then again, what part of their lives tipped on the sane level of the scale?

"Okay, then. Let's go." She gestured to the statue of the Angel. Luke said that in order to get in, someone needed to deposit Shadowhunter blood into the cup. Eliza slipped out one of her knives. In a quick motion, she sliced the knife across the palm of her hand. Clary winced, looking away. Eliza held her hand over the cup and squeezed, watching the blood drip into the cup.

Smoke lifted from the cup as her blood sizzled. The ground opened up next to the statue of Raziel, revealing a marble set of stairs leading to the darkness.

Eliza looked back at the three of them. She wiped her knife off on the leg of her jeans before putting it back on her wrist. "Come on." She waved, heading for the stairs.

The marble and the darkness put together made the stairwell colder than the upside of the cemetery had been. After a few quiet minutes, they made it to the bottom of the staircase. A room opened up before them, surrounded with massive pillars made of stone that reached up into the darkness above. Each of the pillars were striped with different kinds of stones, leaving bands of color on them. She recognized some of them- green jade, blue lapis, black onyx, and rose carnelian. Runes were carved onto the floor.

"I'll be right back. I'm going to speak to the Silent Brothers. Stay here." Maryse instructed them. She walked away down a dimly lit hall, leaving them alone in the entry chamber.

"Are we sure this was the best idea?" Luke asked them.

Eliza snorted as Clary answered. "Maybe you could have brought that up before we came all the way down here."

Witchlight torches that hung down from the pillars lit the room. She could see the mausoleums that lined the walls and a shiver passed down her spine. Less than fifteen minutes in and she was already creeped out.

Clary told Eliza that Maryse had cautioned her on the way to the Silent City that the Silent Brothers were under no obligation to let them see the bodies of the dead Shadowhunters. The dead belonged to the guardians of the Silent City and no one else.

Eliza nodded wordlessly. She wondered how many Silent Brothers were actually left. Her father had killed all of the ones that were in the Silent City when he'd stolen thee Angel's Sword. A handful had survived due to not being in the Silent City at the time. The reclusive order had since added more brothers, but she didn't think there were still very many.

In the distance, she could hear the loud and sharp sound of Maryse's heels against the hard floor. Soon enough, Maryse arrived back in the entry chamber, a Silent Brother at her side.

Chills ran down Eliza's body. It wasn't the first time she had seen a Silent Brother, but she sure hoped it would be the last.

"This is Brother Zachariah." Maryse gestured to him. "Brother, these are-."

Valentine's daughters. Yes, I see.

Maryse's mouth made an impossibly thin line. "Eliza and Clary. Clary is the child I told you about."

He raised his hands and slid the hood of his robe back slightly. Without the shadow of the hood, she could see that Brother Zachariah didn't look the way normal Silent Brothers did. His eyes were not hollowed, instead they were closed. The sharpness of his cheekbones was marked, a rune on each one. His mouth, not stitched shut at all, was barely parted. She couldn't make it out in the darkness, but it didn't seem that his head was shaved. She couldn't discern whether it was a slight shadow in the darkness or dark hair.

Do you honestly believe that you can do this, daughter of Valentine?

Eliza looked over at her sister. Daughter of Valentine she was not. She had his blood, but she didn't have his fathering. He hadn't raised Clary. She was the daughter of Jocelyn, not Valentine.

"Even down here, I'm sure that the Silent Brothers are aware of everything Clary has done." Luke told Brother Zachariah. "Clary's Binding rune helped us win the Mortal War."

Once again, the Silent Brother shielded his face with the hood of his robe. Follow me to the Ossuarium. Eliza put a supportive hand on Clary's shoulder, telling her to go on. You as well, Eliza Morgenstern.

This time, it was Clary giving support to her. The two of them followed behind Maryse and Brother Zachariah, Luke in the rear. Brother Zachariah made no noise as he walked. He didn't even seem to be touching the floor, it looked more like gliding. Maryse's heels clacked harshly as she walked beside him.

That must be where Izzy's affinity for nonsensible footwear stems from, Eliza thought.

The hallway curved this way and that between the pillars. They passed the pavilion of the Speaking Stars. On the other side of the pavilion was a high arched doorway, the doors made of iron. The doors had runes burned into them. Death and peace, she recognized.

Aren't they the same thing? She found herself wondering. Peace comes with death.

A Latin inscription was carved into the place above the doorway. She stared up at it, squinting her eyes so she could see it better. Taceant Colloquia. Effugiat risus. Hic locus est ubi mors Gaudet succurrere vitae.

Luke read it aloud, his former Shadowhunter training kicking in. "Let conversation stop. Let laughter cease. Here is the place where the dead delight to teach the living."

The words, out in the air for everyone to hear, made her bones cold. Brother Zachariah placed a hand on one of the iron doors, telling them that the most recent of the deceased had been prepared for them.

She still wasn't completely sure what they were doing in the Silent City. Clary had not been forthcoming on any details. But it had something to do with seeing a dead body and she didn't enjoy that aspect of their journey.

Are you ready for the body? Brother Zachariah asked.

Her mouth went dry. She looked at her sister, hoping that Clary knew what she was doing. Clary said yes.

The heavy iron doors opened to them and they went through. Beyond the doors was a wide room void of windows. The walls were made of a smooth white marble, decorated with silver-made instruments: bone saws, scalpels, rib spreaders, and some kind of hammer like tools. In fact, the room was resident to all sorts of instruments on the walls and the shelves. Vials and jars of colorful liquids, parchments and other papered materials.

Marbled tables were centered in the room. The majority of the tables were empty, three occupied. Two of the three tables had a vaguely human shape concealed by a white sheet. The third was available for viewing.

It was a man, the sheet pulled down to his ribcage. His eyes were covered by a white piece of silk. Eliza could see the variety of Marks that had been etched on his body over the years. Years of protecting the world and a lifetime of sacrifice, all reduced to a lifeless body on a table. The only remnants of his sacrifice being the runes on his skin.

This was what they were reduced to? A body on a slab of marble.

She stood still as Clary moved towards the table, Luke moving in sync with her. Eliza and Maryse stood on the other side of the table, across from Clary and Luke.

Clary leaned over the table and Brother Zachariah removed the silk strip from his eyes. Eliza could see that the man's throat had been ripped into pieces. The wounds had been cleaned, he looked more like a porcelain doll than a man.

As Clary took out her stele and began her work-whatever it was- Eliza felt the entire inside of her turn cold. She crossed her arms over her chest, fixing her eyes straight ahead. Clary worked slowly, black ink pouring from the tip of the stele over pallid skin. Clary's face was pulled together tightly, her skin paling and beading with sweat.

The room was still after she drew back her stele. Eliza couldn't believe what she was seeing when it happened. The dead man's eyes flickered open, blue and speckled with blood.

"By the Angel…" Maryse gasped.

Eliza swallowed, watching the man try to breath, the ragged pieces of skin on his throat moving with his chest. The noise was strangled and wrong, just like his return to life. "It hurts." He managed to say.

Luke said something under his breath and turned away. Maryse stepped closer to the table. "What is your name, Shadowhunter?" She demanded.

His head moved erratically, arms convulsing. "Make it stop. Make the pain stop."

Eliza bit down on her bottom lip. Luke was moving away from the table, Clary looked horrified at what she had done. Maryse asked who had killed the Shadowhunter. He begged for them to make the pain stop. Luke spun, turning his back to them. Maryse grabbed the dead man by the shoulder, commanding him by the Angel to answer her question.

He choked out a series of words. "Vampire. The vampire." Maryse asked which one. "Camille."

A spurt of blackened blood came from his mouth and Maryse stumbled backward. Luke stood over the man's head, a jar of dark green liquid in his hands, the lid missing. He threw the liquid over the Mark on the man's arm. He screamed out and Eliza closed her eyes. She could hear the sound of the skin burning. She heard him fall back onto the table.

When she opened her eyes, he was once again dead. Luke chastised Maryse on her treatment of the dead Shadowhunter. "Now that we have a name, we can prevent the deaths of future Nephilim."

Luke put a hand on Clary's shoulders. "I believe it's time to go now."

Eliza let her arms fall to her sides. Luke walked Clary out of the room, Maryse following silently behind them. She went to follow. Brother Zachariah reached out, grabbing onto her wrist.

His hand was cold, skin hardened. She turned, his face flashing, transforming into something else. Someone else.

Edges of dark hair became pale. His skin became dead, a hollowed cheek. Dead and sunken eyes.

That which you seek will become your desolation.

He let her go and she saw that he had not changed. "What?" She whispered. "What do you mean?"

Exactly as I said, daughter of Valentine.

She swallowed, turning away and walking back to the world of the living.

The entire ride back had been silent. Clary was mortified and Luke was upset at Maryse's composure, or lack thereof. Clary shuddered, pulling her jacket closer to her body. The world was dark, twinkling lights of the city lighting the sky.

"Clary," Luke began, "you know that-."

"Please don't yell at me." Clary said softly. "I know it was wrong."

Luke slowed down. "We didn't know. You thought it would work and so did I."

She zoned out, no longer listening to their conversation about the horrific encounter they had experienced. She could only think of the man, throat torn apart. Begging for anything to relieve the pain his death had brought.

That could have been her.

If she had never been brought back to life, by whatever force had granted her a second chance. If Clary had thought of her rune sooner, back at Lake Lyn. That could have been her, writhing in pain, pleading to Jace and Clary to make the pain in her chest stop.

Brother Zachariah's cryptic words resonated in her mind, over and over again. That which you seek will become your desolation. The way he had turned into Jonathan before her eyes. She had to be going crazy.

Jace's bad attitude over the past few days. Kind words drawing her in and cruel ones kicking her back out.

The nightmares.

Jace. Jonathan. Jonathan. Jace.

It was too much. Too much.

"Stop the car." She said.

Luke glanced over at her, Clary squished between them. "What?"

"Stop the car." She repeated. "I need…I need air."

Luke slowed to a stop. The car behind them honked. "Eliza, what are you-."

She vaulted from the cab of the truck, pulling the hood of her cloak up. "Liz!" Clary yelled. The line of cars behind Luke's truck was growing longer. They were both yelling her name. She kept walking, hands shaking at her side.

Brightly colored lights flashed, the room filled with a hazy smoke. It was hot in the room, the body heat of at least a hundred people piled together, grinding against one another. Her fingers were itching, constantly creeping towards her seraph blade.

She wanted to kill something. She needed to kill something.

It was an urge she found herself having to repress more and more lately. Killing demons was not a bad thing. They brought ruin onto the world and she was doing her duty as a Nephilim by killing them. That was not the issue. The issue was that she liked it too much. She knew that the euphoric high she experienced from shoving a seraph blade through a demon wasn't right. If it felt like that and she knew it was wrong, it was definitely not a good thing.

Pandemonium was the best place to find demons. A trip to the seedy club was never in vain. A demon always died when she entered.

That night would be no different.

Her nose burned with the heavy scent of demon. Death, putrid and raw. She moved aimlessly, no specific target acquired. Search, find, kill.

She spotted a group of Croucher demons. Ten, maybe twelve. They were too inefficient to hunt alone, usually working in small packs. A group of a dozen meant they were looking for something big.

She asserted herself among them, plunging her seraph blade into the back of the smallest. It gained their attention, the last howl of their brother. Or sister. She wasn't sure how that worked. They turned on her, attacking. She took out the second seraph blade and swung her arm around. The blade stuck into the chest of another demon. She jerked it out. They were hissing at her, pinchers clattering in anger. She jumped up into the air, fixating her blades. When she came back down, she jammed the blades into the heads of another two demons.

She moved fast, faster than she had even gone before. Seraph blades were no longer her weapons, instead extensions of her own arms and hands. Each time a blade went in, another high rushed through her. Soon, she was left standing over a pile of dead Crouchers. The seraph blades were covered in dark ichor. She smiled, a breathless laugh escaping her.

She stepped back, wiping the blades on her pants. Her vision flashed and when she looked back at the bodies, they were no longer Croucher demons. They were mundanes, boys and girls. Dead. Covered in blood. Her hands were spotted with it, dark red and thick. She could feel it on her face, the burning of a sin, not of ichor.

"Oh, God."

She blinked, the bodies morphing into Crouchers. Back to humans. Crouchers. Her vision blurred. The music blared in her ears.

She looked around. No one was looking, no one was paying attention. They were ignorant of whatever she had done, continuing on to dance and forget the worries of their lives.

Something caught her eye. A blinding light illuminating a flash of pale blonde hair. Dark eyes sparkled back at her.

Her breath caught. Jonathan.

She returned her seraph blades to her belt and pushed through the crowd that separated them. Her heart thudded, ears ringing. No longer was she scared, no, this felt right. She knew it was right, deep down, being reunited with her other half. With her brother.

In life and death. Forever. Wasn't that what he had said?

He was moving away from her, walking away, disappearing into the crowd. She lost him.

A terrible sense of longing and dread filled her. It rose up from her gut to her chest, filling her head. And then she saw another demon.