The dull pounding in her head worsened as Eliza opened her eyes. There was still a burning sensation in her lungs and throat, the taste of smoke on her tongue and the smell stuck in her nose.

"You're in huge trouble, you know."

Eliza sat up. She was back in the small bedroom she shared with Clary in Amatis' house. How she had ended up there, she didn't know. Maybe Magnus had gotten her message. Or maybe someone had seen the cottage up in flames and stumbled upon her.

Clary was sitting up in her own bed, back pressed against the headboard. Magnus was sitting at the foot of Clary's bed, examining her face.

"How much qualifies as huge?" She asked her sister.

Clary looked at her. "Don't think you wanna know. Mom's pissed."

"At both of you, I feel inclined to add." Magnus chimed in.

Clary narrowed her eyes at him as he backed away from her. He repositioned himself on the edge of Eliza's bed. He motioned her forward so he could place his hand on her forehead. His cat eyes glimmered back at her.

"When I suggested you go clear your head, I didn't mean for you to go get yourself killed."

"How was I supposed to know the difference?" She asked him. "Those could very well be the same thing in my mind."

Lightly, he smacked her shoulder. "You get more reckless as the days go by, Eliza."

She did a once over of the room. Clary, in bed, wearing much too small pajamas with little red fire engines on them. Magnus, present and checking on both of them. A full glass of water on each of the bedside tables. But, one thing was missing. Rather, one person was missing.

"Where's Jace?" She didn't miss the look Clary and Magnus shared. Eliza backed away from Magnus' hand and pulled her legs up. "Where is he?" Neither answered. She got up from the bed. Someone had changed her clothes, replacing her battle-worn and bloodied ones with softer, more comfortable items. She grabbed a pair of shoes and hastily pulled them on.

"Where are you going?" Clary asked.

Eliza gazed back at her with wide eyes. She couldn't be serious. "I'm going to find my boyfriend since no one here wants to tell me where he is." Her cloak was hanging on the end of the bed.

"We don't know, Eliza." Clary sighed. Eliza stiffened. "Mom hasn't said anything since I woke up. She just comes and checks in and then she leaves. I tried asking but she won't tell me."

Panic rushed through her. Jocelyn wouldn't say where he was or if he was okay. Was he…? God, no, surely not. That had been the whole point of Clary using a Healing rune. Granted, that had backfired severely on Clary's end. Her heart seized and she grabbed onto the bed post.

The door to the bedroom swung open. Jocelyn walked into the room, leaving the door wide open. After almost two decades of living a mundane life, she still dressed that way. Jeans and a worn old shirt, hair piled into a bun with a wooden pencil weaved through the tendrils.

At her arrival, Magnus promptly stood up. He wiped his hands together. "Both in good health." He reported. She nodded curtly. "I'll be going. Send a fire message if you need me."

"Thank you, Magnus."

Magnus, don't leave me here alone.

Sorry, little dove. Actions have consequences.

He parted from the room, shutting the door behind himself in a quiet manner. Jocelyn looked between the two of them. Clary still in her bed, Eliza poised and ready to leave. Jocelyn nodded towards the bed, motioning for her to sit.

"I can't just sit down." Eliza told her. "I have to find Jace and-."

Jocelyn's green eyes darkened. Eliza hadn't seen her cross very many times, but she knew well enough that she wasn't a woman to be trifled with when she became so. In her own way, her mother could be just as fear-inducing as her father had been. And for good reason, Eliza was much more scared of her mother.

"He's fine." Jocelyn told her. "I promise. He's recovering at the Basilias. So is Brother Zachariah." There was truth in her eyes and all in her words. Jace was fine. Alive. "Now, sit down. We need to have a talk."

Begrudgingly, Eliza sat back on her bed. Jocelyn sat down in a wooden chair that had been positioned between the two beds. Just then, the door opened again. Luke entered, leaving the door slightly ajar as he crossed the room and positioned himself in front of the window.

"Can I go see him?" Eliza asked. "After we talk." Both Luke and her mother shook their heads. "But I'm fine and- Oh, God. Does he know?"

It hadn't occurred to her before then that Jace would've been informed of her ordeal at the cottage. Granted, she hadn't exactly thought he was okay to have thought something like that. But if he was okay, that meant it was possible someone had told him.

Luke wore a look that was somewhere between a smile and a grimace. She honestly couldn't tell if he was amused or in pain. "He knows." He told her. "Good luck with that, when you see him."

"Tomorrow." Jocelyn added. "You can go tomorrow. He can't have visitors until then."

She groaned, leaning back against the headboard. At least they were letting her go. That was a plus. She couldn't go because of a restriction on Jace, not one on herself.

"You girls need rest anyway." Luke said. "You went through a lot yesterday."

Yesterday? The battle had only been yesterday? She had assumed maybe two days ago.

"Luke is right." Jocelyn nodded. "Clary almost died trying to heal Jace's wound. What you can do, honey, takes up a lot of energy. And energy isn't endless. You need to be more careful." She turned her attention to Eliza. "And you. What exactly happened at that cottage, Eliza? All Magnus said was that you called for him and he found you outside and the house was burning." The unspoken question: Did you set it on fire?

Eliza explained it all to them. Her need to be somewhere completely familiar to her when the world became too much, the footprints, the stolen drawing. The fire and the smell of gasoline burning her nose. The Endarkened warrior sent to give her a message. "It was a trap. Jonathan knows I'll come for him if he baits me enough. And he has." More than enough.

Jocelyn took something from the top drawer of the night table next to Eliza's bed. She recognized it instantly. The drawing. She handed it over.

"Figured you wouldn't want it ruined when we tried to clean your clothes."

She turned the paper over. Sure enough, Jonathan's script was still there. She tucked the paper under her pillow.

"Now," Jocelyn sighed, eyes lighting once again, "what the hell were you two doing at the battle?"

Clary and Eliza shared a look. Thick as thieves.

Clary spoke before Eliza could get the chance. "Jace and I followed Eliza through the Portal. She told us both to stay, not to follow her. But we couldn't let her go alone. Besides, they weren't sending enough people through to fight and all of the Shadowhunters were convinced they could save the Endarkened." She rambled on quickly, not letting anyone get a word in edgewise. "Mom, we all know there's no saving them. Once they drink from the Infernal Cup, they're gone."

Luke asked about Amatis. Had they seen her? Was she alive? Did she hurt either of them?

Clary turned away from him. Her avoidance was all the answer he needed to know that his sister wasn't herself anymore. "Luke, I'm sorry." She whispered.

Luke shook his head at it all. "It's not her anymore." He passed it off.

Jocelyn reached out and took his hand. She pressed her lips to the back of it gently. "The two of you need to be more careful." She finally turned back to her two daughters. "When we realized you'd gone through the Portal…Luke and I know why you went but still, girls, the worry that you put us through…" Jocelyn's voice trailed off. She was quiet for several seconds, eyes glued to the floor. "Clary, when we got to the square and you were lying there, I almost died. You looked dead, fingers and mouth blue, still as can be. And Eliza," she turned to her older daughter, "when Magnus sent a fire message and said he'd found you unconscious outside that forsaken house and the first thing I thought was that you may have thought you were responsible for what happened to your sister. I was so worried that you wouldn't wake up or-."

"I'm sorry." Eliza said quietly. "I'm sorry for rushing into the battle and then not telling you where I was going. But to be honest, I didn't know where I was going until I wound up at the cottage. I only wanted somewhere to clear my head."

"I'm sorry too." Clary nodded. "For following her. But Mom, Luke, it's Sebastian. The Clave thinks they know what they're doing, but they don't. They don't understand the way we do."

Jocelyn sighed. At that, Eliza knew they were far from finished. She reached under Clary's bed and pulled out something. Eliza saw a glint of metal and instantly recognized Heosphoros. "Is this yours, Clary?" She asked. "They said it was in your weapons belt." Clary jerked forward at the sight of the sword and said she had thought she'd lost it in the fight. "I sold this a long time ago. Where did you get it?" Jocelyn's eyes darkened as she scoured over the stars on the blade. "It's a Morgenstern sword."

Clary took the sword from her and laid it on her lap. "I know. It was still at the shop you sold it to. Jace, Liz, and I went to find me a weapon and the lady said no one else would buy it."

Eliza pulled her legs up to her chest before stretching them out again. She got off her own bed and joined Clary on hers. "Clary's a Morgenstern, Mom. She's his daughter, the same as I am. Let her have the sword so she doesn't have to bear the stain."

Clary agreed as she ran a finger over the stars. "We can't go on pretending that I'm someone I'm not. Someone with a fake last name."

Their mother stared back. "Fray. Is that what you mean?" Clary mentioned that it wasn't a real Shadowhunter name by any stretch of means. It was something made up when Jocelyn went into hiding. A name as mundane as they came. "There's a ceremony that is performed on each Shadowhunter child after birth. Tradition calls for an Iron Sister and a Silent Brother to perform the ceremony. Sister Cleophas and Brother Jeremiah performed the ceremony for Sebastian and Eliza. However, Clary, yours was…special. I was in hiding and there was too much danger in doing it officially. I had a female warlock and Brother Zachariah do it. Fray comes from the warlock."

"And her name was Fray?" Clary deadpanned.

Jocelyn shrugged without providing a true answer. "She was special. Strong, as I knew you would be. Strong in the face of loss and pain and struggle and grief."

"And Brother Zachariah?" Eliza asked. "Is he all right?"

Jocelyn said she wasn't sure. All they knew was that he was also inside the Basilias. The Silent Brothers hadn't provided much information about the conditions of those wounded, especially their own brother. "I told him during your ceremony that I wanted you to have no connection to the Shadow World. I wanted you safe. He warned me that it wasn't a choice I could make. The ties that bind us to this world are too strong. For a long time, I figured we were safe but…now we sit here in Alicante and you're holding a Morgenstern sword."

Eliza raised an eyebrow. Clary asked what else had happened. There was something they weren't being told.

Luke sighed. "Sebastian attacked the London Institute yesterday morning before he went for the Citadel." Both girls said they were aware. The attack had been refuted.

Eliza immediately knew where the conversation was going. The attack on the Praetor Lupus. When Magnus had arrived, he had filled them in as he began to heal Clary. Mostly, he had been informing Jocelyn and Luke, but Eliza couldn't help but overhear.

Her brother had managed three attacks in one day. And he had escaped each one.

"Before he attacked the Citadel, Sebastian attacked somewhere else…somewhere unexpected. He turned his forces to the Praetor Lupus. On Long Island."

Clary sucked in a breath. Eliza crept her hand over and grabbed onto Clary's. She shared a look with Luke and nodded her head.

"Clary," Eliza said softly, "the Praetor Lupus weren't as lucky as the London Institute. Nearly all the Praetorians were slaughtered. Praetor Scott was killed. And Jordan-."

"No."

Clary tried to wretch her hand free, but Eliza's grip was strong. "We can't do anything now. It's too late. We didn't know until Magnus came yesterday."

Tears pooled in her sister's eyes. "Is Maia…?" Eliza quickly said that Maia was as okay as she could be, according to Magnus' report. "And Simon? Oh, God, Jordan is his protector!"

The bedroom door swung open. Clary sucked in a breath at the sight of her best friend, alive and unharmed.

"All is well in Simon world." The young vampire greeted.

Eliza jerked her hand back just in time. Clary scrambled from the bed and launched herself into Simon's arms. A choked noise escaped the younger girl as she clutched onto her friend for dear life.

Simon made a sarcastic remark in Clary's choice of pajamas, which sparked a debate between Clary and the two parental figures in the room. Clary's cheeks turned as red as the fire engines on her pajamas and excused herself to go change shower and change clothes.

Eliza resorted back to her own bed. "You're sure I can't go see him…?" She murmured to her mother. "Not even for an hour?"

Jocelyn replied with a firm shake of her head. "You both need rest. Something I'm sure you won't do if you're together."

Very rarely did she ever pout but she found herself sitting with her bottom lip jutted out. "We hardly even hold hands anymore. He thinks he's going to kill me or something." Luke said he appreciated Jace's clear devotion to her safety. "Oh, yes. He's the one who should be keeping me safe. Especially since I'm the one who stabbed him."

Jocelyn's face pulled and Luke looked away.

"I got kidnapped." Simon said suddenly. "Just…you know."

Eliza's eyebrows shot up. Kidnapped? "Well, don't be shy, tell us more."

Simon situated himself against the nightstand between the two beds. He recounted the events back to them. Maureen, a young super-fan of his who had been turned into a vampire by Camille and Lilith. She was now the leader of the New York clan and had kidnapped Simon in an attempt to convince him to be her lover (leather pants and all). Raphael had rescued him, in a shocking twist of events, and the two had travelled to Alicante.

The story was nearing the end when Clary walked back into the room, freshly showered and in clothes that were not covered in little red fire engines.

"So, will Raphael be going to the dinner in the Seelie Court tonight?" Luke asked. "In the place of Anselm Nightshade? Raphael should go, our alliance with the Shadowhunters is more important now than ever."

Simon said that he wasn't sure. He then asked if Luke had heard from Maia at all.

"I spoke with Bat." Luke nodded sagely. "She's with the pack. He says that physically, she's fine. Emotionally…Sebastian singled her out for his message."

Simon relayed that the pack also had Maureen on their hands. She was doing her best to turn New York into her own little blood-filled wonderland, especially since the Nephilim were all recalled to Alicante.

"Killing mundanes is a big no-no, in respect to the Accords." Eliza leaned forward. She was pretty sure Maureen didn't know a thing about the Accords, and if she did, she definitely didn't care. "Once the Clave finds out, they'll send someone to drive a stake through her."

"Maybe Jia Penhallow should hear all this." Clary suggested. "She'll listen to you, Simon. She's actually sane."

He agreed to talk to Consul Penhallow. He had, after all, promised Raphael that he'd speak to both the Inquisitor and Consul on the Maureen situation. Simon winced, and looked down at the floor. His skin, already so pale, was almost translucent. The veins of his face shone, dark black lines traced under the flesh. Hollow circles under his eyes.

"When was the last time you ate?" Clary asked him. Quietly, he said it had been three days. "Simon!"

"It's fine. I'm okay."

Luke said that the easiest place for Simon to get his hands on some blood would be the house designated to the Council representative for the vampires. The house where Raphael was staying was only a few doors down from the Inquisitor's, which was where the Lightwoods resided.

"We'll go now. He needs to eat." Clary decided. She opened the wardrobe and pulled one of her jackets out, yanking her arms through quickly.

"He'll be asleep." Luke said. "It's the middle of the day."

Clary shrugged. "It's his job to help Simon. He's the vampire representative, remember?"

Eliza agreed. "He's also Simon's sire."

None too fondly she remembered the night Raphael had delivered Simon's barely alive self onto the steps of the Institute. Covered in blood, two breaths from dead. And Declan-.

Eliza squinted her eyes shut. She tried her best not to think of him, which did seem disrespectful, but it was too much to remember him. Jace hovering over him, plunging a stake into Declan's heart.

Clary hooked the scabbard for her sword onto her belt and slid Heosphoros into the scabbard.

"Maybe you aren't well enough yet-." Jocelyn started.

Clary looked her dead in the eye. "I'm fine."

"Can't stop you?"

"Nope."

Jocelyn and Luke shared a look. Luke said they had to be at a Council dinner that night, meaning they'd be gone when she returned. They would station a guard at the house to ensure she'd be home before dark. If she wasn't back before sunset, the Gard would be alerted.

"Now, hold on." Eliza sat up straighter. "If Clary gets to go out with Simon, I think that I-."

"Absolutely not." Jocelyn said immediately. "Clary's been awake for longer."

She settled back against the headboard and crossed her arms over her chest. Once again, her mouth puckered in a pout. "If they go and you go, I'll be here alone. You could at least let me go see Alec and Isabelle."

Jocelyn shook her head. "Sorry, sweetie. Bedrest for you. No sneaking out."

At least it would be quiet.

Her mother and Luke weren't returned yet from their dinner. Clary and Simon hadn't yet gotten back from their blood quest. Just her. Alone in the house.

A long shower, relaxing and quiet. The blood and grime of battle had been washed away prior by someone else, but it felt good to wash her own hair and scrub her own body. To dress herself and design her hair into twin braids by herself.

She was hanging the towel up on the back of the bathroom door when she heard the front door of the house shut quietly.

"Clary?"

"It's us!" Her sister's voice confirmed.

She was speaking softly to Simon, both of them shuffling around. For a few seconds, it was quiet before Clary's footsteps echoed on the stairs to the second level of the house.

Eliza swung open the door, meeting her sister. "Have fun?"

Clary grimaced. "Raphael drugged Simon's blood. He's…drunk." As they walked back to their shared room, Clary told her of Simon's 'Romeo' moment at the Inquisitor's house and being face-to-face with Robert Lightwood himself, who had been less than pleased to see them.

"Sounds horrible and funny." Eliza sighed as Clary pushed the bedroom door open. "I can't believe I'm envious of a showdown with Mr. Lightwood." Her nose crinkled. She definitely did not want to ever find herself on the receiving end of one of his stern glares.

Clary entered the room first and then paused. Eliza knocked into her, stumbling back a step. Her sister's hand wrapped around her wrist, squeezing tight.

"Clary-what-?"

He was sitting on Clary's bed. Witchlight glowering his fair hair. Sword laid pristinely across his lap, a thin silver piece of metal wrapped around his wrist.

"My sisters, here at last."

Eliza swallowed. "Sebastian."

It never came. Those tense few moments spent staring at one another, two halves of one whole. The first experiment of the mad doctor. She waited, breath held tight in her chest, clutching onto it with fierce possession. She waited those moments for the feeling, the familiarity that he brought along.

The same, the brother. The fifty to her fifty that made one hundred. An uncomfortable but well-known fluttering of her stomach, the restriction of all the muscles in her body. Fight or flight. It never came.

He wasn't Jonathan. There had never been a Jonathan. Only Sebastian.

The split second after it all washed over her, that he was there, sitting on Clary's bed as if he'd been invited inside, she moved. Shoved Clary behind her, into the wall next to the door.

"Go." She hissed. "Now."

Her hands worked behind her, trying to push Clary through the door while keeping the main focus of her attention on the boy on the bed. At the thud, Eliza's head jerked back. The door was shut, Clary pressed against the wall. Shoulders struggling, legs frozen.

Eliza's lip curled up as she turned back to Sebastian. His position had changed, his body lounged back on the bed. His eyes were glued on Clary, as if Eliza wasn't even there. "Let. Her. Go."

Lazily, he looked at her. "It's just a binding spell, Liz. You want one too?"

Immediately, an unseen force propelled her against the wall. It was as if someone had tied her legs together in multiple spots. The upper part of her body retained motion, but the lower half was useless.

"I'm guessing you got my message." She tried to force one of her legs forward. The action was in vain. Whatever he had used, it was powerful. How he had managed to get his hands on a binding spell, she had no clue.

He smiled back at her. "You killed my warrior."

"You tried to kill me. It was only fair."

"That wasn't the goal. The goal was to-."

"Make me come after you. Seems moot now, don't you think?"

He shrugged. "I've never been patient, little sister."

She struggled against the spell. Sister. As if…they'd never been related. Family meant humanity and he was severely lacking in that department. "Don't call me that. You are not my brother." She snarled.

"Funny." He mused. "I have a lifetime of inconvenience that says otherwise."

"You're not my brother. You're a monster."

One of his eyebrows jutted up. He raised up from the pillows. "So, you think that because you've denounced me that you can beat me? Lizzie, Lizzie, Lizzie, when will you learn? You'll never beat me."

Lizzie. A special name. Spoken only by the most special people in her life. He wasn't one of them. He never had been. It had befallen his lips before, when they were bound, and she didn't know to know that it was wrong. Queasiness hadn't filled her stomach then.

"Untie me and I'll prove just how wrong you are."

Before he could respond, words were leaving Clary's mouth.

"What do you want, Sebastian? We all know you didn't just pop in for a chat."

With the elegance and speed so few possessed, he was on his feet. The bed was near bare of rumples and wrinkles. Almost no indication he had been on it at all.

"Perhaps it's time we call a truce." He swept a lock of pale hair from in front of his eye. "Hmm?"

Eliza barked out a laugh. As if a truce had ever been in the cards. There was no tie, not with him. Win and lose, that was it. They weren't made for tying the game.

"Please. The Clave isn't going to fall for that." Clary told him.

He took a slow step towards her. His words from the night before rang in Eliza's ears. And soon, I'll know her in all the ways you can possibly know another person. "I think they will be open to consideration after last night's events. During a war, the two sides make a truce. Isn't that so? And yet…that isn't the sort of truce I'm in the market for. I want one with you, Clary."

Blood boiled inside of her. Disgusting, he was disgusting. Foul. Loathsome. Horrible in every way imaginable.

Clary said she could never be forgiven by him for what she had done. He pressed his body against hers, wrapping his hands around her wrists. Clary flinched. "You did behave very wrongly, Clarissa. Destroying our home. Turning against me. You broke my bond with my Jace."

"Get away from her." Eliza hissed. "So, help me, Sebastian when-."

He held up a hand, silencing her. "Shush, Eliza. The real Morgensterns are speaking now." He turned his full attention back to Clary. "In retrospect, you did me a favor. Knocking my feet out from under me taught me to stand on my own ideals, my own legacy. Everything I've done, I have done alone."

"Like murdering dozens of innocent people?" Clary suggested.

Eliza glanced around the room. Guard. There should have been a guard. Luke and Jocelyn had said… "Sebastian, what did you do to the man who was guarding the house?" A question she already knew the answer to.

"He wasn't doing a very good job of protecting my little sister. So, I taught him a lesson." He sighed, reaching to twirl a piece of Clary's hair around his finger. "Morgensterns, you and me, Clarissa. The stars of the morning. Red as your hair. Red as blood and fire. Beautiful and lovely. Won't you look at me?"

Slowly, her head turned. Clary's eyes met his.

Eliza forced her lower body against the spell. Her legs refused to budge, yet she didn't stop trying. He was too close, too close to her. Looking at Clary the way Jace had looked at Eliza when he had thought he was Jonathan. The brother. Except there was no guilt or regret in his eyes. He didn't care that it was wrong. He relished in it.

His hand fell down, dancing fingers and light touches until it rested over her heart. On her chest. "It wasn't fair. Our mother, the one we share, she did this to me. She hated me from the day I was born. She refused to love me, her own son. And yet," his gaze fell on Eliza, "she loved you."

And that was it, the whole truth of it. How her humanity remained when his never lived. The mother's love was the saving grace. Their mother had recognized some shred of humanity in her and fostered it enough to keep her real. Eliza had known that for a long time. Jocelyn had abandoned her, but she had saved her first.

"At least our father hated us both. Disappointments in our own ways, weren't we?" He clucked his tongue quietly. "Eliza wasn't enough, too weak, too human for him. Not enough of a soldier. And I was too much. I always did as he asked, without hesitation. And who did he turn his love and affection to? Jace. The angel boy, broken and rebellious and soft-hearted."

The son he wanted. The son he loved. The only child he had ever loved. He had killed him, but he had shed a tear over his body. A single tear, but one more than she got.

"How funny is it that he hated all his blood children? All three of us. You, Clarissa, because you stole our mother from him. Eliza because she wasn't the monster he wanted her to be. And me, because I was the monster."

She could have been perfect. The perfect little monster Valentine had wanted. Humanity intact. Demon blood present. Everything he ever wanted in his experimental soldier. Potential perfection where Sebastian had none because he was too rough, too inhuman, apathetic to everything but hate and rage and fear. And Jace had been too good.

"None of it matters." Clary said. "He's dead."

"It matters!" He shouted at her. "You and I…Clary, you belong to me. And I belong to you. I'm giving you another chance."

For what, she asked.

Eliza squirmed. Clary wasn't his. She wasn't anyone's. Her own. Clary belonged to herself.

"Come with me." He goaded. "Turn on the Nephilim, turn on your family, on Idris. Come with me and give me your undying loyalty. Pledge yourself to me and I will give you the one thing I have saved just for you."

"And what would that be?"

His dark eyes shone with the promise of it. A brightness foreign to his own person. "Mercy, my Clary. I'll give you mercy."

Mercy, what a concept for him. Sebastian wouldn't know mercy if it bit him on the ass. Mercy would have been Valentine killing them. Being left dead.

"Mercy?" Eliza scoffed at him. "And I here I thought you didn't have a sense of humor."

The darks of his eyes narrowed at her. "Shut it."

Clary wriggled in her spot. "I know what mercy means to you. You'll turn me into an Endarkened. Make me wrong and-."

"No!" He interrupted harshly. Clary flinched at the urgent tone. "You can stay, if it's what you want. You won't have to change. I'll forgive you. And Jace."

"What about Eliza?" Clary asked quickly. "You'll forgive her?"

The both of them cast a glance at her. Clary's eyes wide and evergreen. Sebastian's sharp features pulled into a thoughtful disdain. Neither Jace nor Clary would budge without Eliza. She came included, whether he wanted her or not.

Sebastian's eyelashes fluttered. "If you wish her, then yes. Though, I can't say I wouldn't prefer her to die right here and now."

"That's reassuring." Eliza muttered.

He shook his head slowly. "I promise you, Clary, pledge your loyalty to me on Raziel's name, and you will be safe. You'll all be safe. When I reinvent the world, you alone will remain the same."

The slight movement of Clary's hand caught her eye. Inching downward to her waist. To whatever- Heosphoros. Clary had a weapon.

"What if she doesn't?" Eliza fixed her gaze on Sebastian. "What if she refuses you?"

"Yeah," Clary added, "what if I say no?"

He said that, upon Clary's decline of his truce, every person that she loved would be remade into an Endarkened. She herself would be turned last. "But," he said slowly, "before I Turned you, I'd kill our sister. Make you watch as I torture her, your ears will bleed with her begs."

Eliza met Clary's stare. She shook her head. Don't agree. You can't. She would rather die than be on his side again. Even if she had to beg for her own death.

"Mercy is only an option if you agree." He continued. Clary said no, there would be not agreement. A downright declination. His mouth spread into a slow smile, predatory and fatal. The grin of death. "In the end, you'll stand at my side, Clarissa. You can either do it with your freedom or without."

Her hand was growing closer to the hilt of the sword that had once been promised to him.

Eliza jerked against the wall. "Let me ask a question. Real quick." He whirled on her. "Only a second, promise. The angel you slaughtered. The one whose wings you ripped off and sent to the Institute. What was its name?"

"What?" He blinked. Only by a fraction of an inch, his body shifted back from Clary's.

"You don't remember, do you?" She asked quietly. "Or did you know?" She licked over her bottom lip. "You think that a mother's love was the only difference between us? You and I…we were never meant to be the same. Sure, both made to be weapons. And we are. We always have been. You were meant to be Father's little toy soldier and exact his plans. I was meant to destroy you. That's why I got a fighting chance in hell with humanity. Not some fluke or because Mommy liked me best. But because there had to be a weapon to kill you. And I'm it."

His eyes, bottomless pools of black, abysmal, infinite, bore down on her. The corner of his mouth irked up, left eye twitching. Pale cheeks red.

Clary had her sword out. She swung, tip aimed at the region of his chest that held his heart. He danced away from the blow and Clary's arm jutted out to grab him by the arm. Sebastian skirted from her grasp, but her fingers secured around the thin silver chain around his wrist and the movements sent it flying to the floor.

Clary swung again, narrowly missing the target but still managing a shallow cut across his chest. Sebastian grimaced and made a grunting noise. He grabbed onto her arm and slammed it back against the wall. Clary winced, dropping the sword.

His gaze flickered down at the weapon. Eliza saw the realization dawn on him. The pattern of stars. He had possession of Phaesphoros and the hilt of the present sword was too plain to be Eosphoros.

Blood prickled the front of his shirt where she had cut him. "Heosphoros. How did you come by it?" He demanded.

"A weapons shop." Eliza told him. "It's been there since the Uprising."

Clary nodded. "The woman said no one would ever buy it. They knew it was a Morgenstern blade and we have rotten blood."

He glanced back down at the sword. "Morgenstern blood is Morgenstern blood. It does not matter what the others think. Besides," he looked back at Clary, "you took it for your own, didn't you?"

He didn't care that she had to be convinced to take the sword. It didn't matter. All that mattered was that she had it.

Sebastian lowered his head, buried it in the crook of her neck. Lips against the skin. On her. Hands roaming on her body. "We aren't so different, Clarissa. You know that."

Eliza was on fire. Body sizzling with raw, unadulterated rage. She jerked her torso to the side as much as it would go and seized hold of him. Her hand curled around his shoulder. She yanked him back. "Get away from my sister, you bastard!" With all the force she could use, she shoved him back towards the beds.

He lunged for her. Sebastian swung, fist slamming into her nose with a sickening crack. Her head reared back against the wall. Tears stung her eyes. As she reached for her nose, he grabbed her hands and shoved them above her head. He curled his free hand around her throat, squeezing down.

"Fuck your mercy. I'm tired of you." He snarled. "You've been a pain in my ass since the day we were born." She couldn't breathe. Her head was swimming, vision blurred by hot tears. Pain of her nose overpowered by the burning of her lungs. "You think you were made to kill me? I was made to rip you apart. I have waited so long for this moment and now-."

"Get away from my girlfriend." His voice sent shockwaves through her. Hope, relief, fear. Fear because she had never heard his voice sound so terrorizing. So many hunts and battles together and not once had his tone scared her. "Let her go or I swear to God, I'll take you to Hell myself."

Her shoulders fell back.

Only a moment before, the spot in front of the bedroom window had been empty. But now, Jace stood there. Open, that was how Sebastian had gotten in. The thin-made curtains blew back out into the openness. He was dressed in gear, seraph blade gripped tight in his dominant hand. Tawny eyes dark as coal. Face screwed in an unquenchable rage.

Sebastian stepped away from her, drawing his own weapon in the process. He brought his foot down on Clary's sword. "Luck was on your side yesterday. You don't have that advantage now."

Jace took a step closer. "Luck? Or the fact that I surprised you with my little party trick?" He cocked his head to the side. "You lost yesterday. You lost the battle at the Citadel, so you fled like a scared little boy."

She could feel the warm stream of blood trickling from her nose. Broken, definitely broken.

"I wouldn't call it a complete loss. I learned a lot."

"But you didn't get your weapons. Or the Iron Sisters."

At that, Sebastian laughed. He shook his head with a smile. "Is that what you think it was for? Weapons? I went for the two of you. My Jace and my Clary."

She stiffened. Not his. Hers. They were hers. Her sister. Her boyfriend.

"You had no clue we'd be there." Clary said.

His grin was bright and sharp, the smooth curve of a knife. "I see you. I see all of you. You think I don't have my eyes watching every second of Alicante now that you're here, now that all of the Nephilim are here?"

"You're lying." Jace said quickly. There was no way he could have that ability.

Sebastian arched an eyebrow. "I knew Clarissa would be here tonight. Alone. At least," he gave Eliza a wayward glare, "I thought she would be alone. I suspected you would be at the Basilias. Recovering."

She narrowed her eyes. "Your little bitch didn't do that much damage. But I repaid him for it, all the same." She spat. She could still see the Endarkened in her head, chains of morning stars wrapped around his throat. Eyes bulging as she tightened the hold. Blood spattering. Could still smell the gasoline and the smoke and the burning.

"Why not just take Clary and go?" Jace asked. "Why stick around for a reunion?"

"She has to choose." Sebastian snapped at him.

Eliza wiped her hand across the bottom of her nose. Dark blood streaked the back of her hand. "She hates you. You made her despise you, the same way the rest of us do." She told him. "She'll never go with you."

Jace took another step. "I've seen your dreams, Sebastian. I know what happens in your head. You see a world brought to flames and you stand over it in your own courtroom. Sitting in your throne, an empty one beside you. Who's it for? Who's next to you when the world burns?"

"Enough!" Sebastian barked at him. "You do not get to speak to me this way!"

"No one will ever understand you or love you." Jace went on. "You don't know what love is, you never will. But blood…that's it for you. That's the same thing as love in your book. And Clary…she's it for you. Your parents hated you and left you behind. Eliza is too far gone for you, but you want Clary. Having her by your side would be all the praise you ever needed, wouldn't it?"

Knowing it and hearing it were not the same. Knowing that Sebastian wanted Clary was one thing. But hearing someone say it, speak it into existence, it made her stomach bubble, churn, and boil.

"I do not need praise. Not from anyone!"

Jace wore a smile. "That so?" Another step. "Explain all the second chances. Why not just kill us after the first slip up? Even Eliza got another shot to be with you. You keep holding back when you could take the kill. You said we don't have it in us, but I don't think you do either."

Eliza pinched the bridge of her nose. "He knows…He knows if he kills us, Clary would never forgive him. She'd never stand beside him on her own."

"Shut up!" He shouted at her. "Another word and I'll-."

"What?" She raised her eyebrows. "Kill me? I've been dead before and it's better than being here with you. You'd be doing me a favor."

He rose his weapon. Jace stiffened. Clary's eyes widened.

"Don't!" Clary yelped. "Kill her and I'll never come with you."

Sebastian stilled. He let his eyes rest on her. He lowered the weapon. "If I let her live, you'll come with me?"

Her eyes shone with promise.

"Clary-." Eliza started. She couldn't. She couldn't go. Not just to save her poor life. That was too great a sacrifice.

"Sebastian, I will never go with you. Whether you kill my sister or not. I'd rather die than be by your side."

His lip snarled up as his eyes went dark. "You'll be by my side, Clarissa. If not by choice, than by force. When the world comes to an end, it will be you and me. I have paid too greatly for it not to end that way."

Downstairs, something crashed. The lower level of the house flooded with voices. What the…?

Jace shrugged. "I may or may not have sent a fire-message to the Clave." He shook his head wistfully. "You really should dispose of dead body's more efficiently, Sebastian. I found the guard under the bridge."

Sebastian reached for Clary. She thrusted her arms out. Jace lunged at them. His blade caught Sebastian's arm. Blood welled and he staggered back.

"Where's that heavenly fire now, little angel boy?"

Jace's seraph blade lit up, his eyes glowing gold from the heavenly light. He swung towards Sebastian. All grace and nonchalance, Sebastian snatched the sword away from him.

Her breath hitched. He slashed forward and, in another motion, pierced his own chest with the sword.

She watched as the blade slid into his body. His face was taunt with pain, but he made no noise. Blood poured up. The tip of the sword poked out from the back of his shirt and jutted through. Dark ruby blood sputtered.

The hilt of the sword was pressed flush against his chest. The end bloodied and clean through his back. Sebastian grabbed Jace, yanking him forward.

"I remember your screams when she stabbed you with the sword. Did the fire burn through you and make ash of your blood? I can smell the Heaven on you. You all think you can use it against me, but you can't control the fire of Heaven. It will burn you before it burns me, little brother." He reached, cupping the back of Jace's neck. Their foreheads touched he had brought them so close together. "Clary is mine, the same as me. You are the backside of my coin. And in this, Eliza means nothing. Her death will come by me and you will not be able to stop it. When you've born witness to it, I'll take Clary as mine and you will be alone. Until your death or your Turning. I haven't decided yet. Nothing can kill me, Jace Herondale. Nothing." His lips brushed against Jace's cheek, leaving a trail of smudged blood. "Ave, Master." He danced back quickly and gave a twist to the silver ring on his finger.

And he was gone.

In his disappearance, the binding spell broke. Clary fell to the floor, landing on her knees. She immediately reached for her sword, drawing it close to her chest. Eliza slid down against the wall and brought her knees to her chest.

"Lizzie." Jace pounced forward. "Liz." He fell to his knees in front of her. She let him draw her forward, circling his arms around her. Hand running through her hair. He was wet, body slicked with Sebastian's blood. "I'm here. It's okay, I'm here."

The door to the bedroom kicked open.

From over his shoulder, she looked at Clary. Clutching that sword. Looking back at her. Are you all right, she mouthed.

Clary nodded stiffly.

Coldness crept up inside of her. Something she hadn't felt in a long time. She didn't push it away, not completely. She needed it, that darkness. It had always been known to her. Something that had been decided long ago, when one became two.

They were two weapons. She was made to destroy him. Eliza would kill him. He wasn't her brother. Jonathan Morgenstern had never existed. He was a figment, a daydream. Sebastian was a monster, soulless, without humanity. A demon. She was a Shadowhunter.

And Shadowhunters killed demons.