After Darkness, Light (Post Tenebras Lux)

by AyaMae91

3 years after QoAaD; Kit navigates Shadowhunter life at the London Institute with Jaime and an Academy graduate named Dalton. Soon joined by Dru and her friend Thais, they begin investigating a heist, and things escalate when a Shadowhunter turns up dead on the institute steps. Complicating matters are a mysterious amulet, Tiberius Blackthorn, and the consequences of that night.

2. In the Shadows

Thank you to vapourtrailreads for being the first to review! Your kind words inspired me and made my day

As always, I do not own any of Cassandra Clare's characters, but I do own Dalton.

Hope you enjoy! Here is Chapter 2!

...

After all the excitement died down from Dru and Thais' arrival, Kit searched out Magnus, locating him in the library, which was no less grand than the rest of the Institute. In all honesty, Kit had never seen a Library more magnificent. He had initially wanted nothing to do with books when he moved to Devon, but Jem made him read everything from the Shadowhunter Codex to The Iliad, and had gone so far as to quiz him on the material. He had learned to appreciate the classics, and found himself perusing the shelves of the London Institute's library anytime he was bored or in need of a literary distraction.

Magnus was admiring the rich furniture and ornate decor, lightly trailing his bejeweled fingers over the various surfaces. Kit watched the soft glow of magic at his fingertips, and knew without asking that Magnus was casting a spell of preservation over the ancient possessions. Kit briefly thought about his own Faerie magic, not that he had been able to do anything of consequence with it-it only seemed to manifest when he was particularly emotional, more specifically whenever he was extremely angry, and it had been awhile.

One thing that had changed was that he was able to detect magic, much like he had done earlier with the amulet, but nothing quite as specific as the way the amulet drew him in. He cleared his throat, interrupting the silence apologetically, "I need to talk to you about something."

Magnus snapped out of his reverie, pulling his hand back from the surface of an ornate globe. "My apologies, I should have asked."

Kit waved his hand dismissively, "You can do whatever you want with those items...take some back home with you for all I care." Magnus smirked and the globe disappeared into thin air with a wave of his hand.

The Warlock turned to him, asking, "What can I do for you? Wait, no-don't tell me." He scrunched his face is contemplation. "Let me guess, you finally want to hear the story of how I earned the nickname Harbinger of Debauchery?"

Kit gaped at him, "Not exactly...though maybe another time?"

"Huh, your loss. It really is an enthralling tale," he mused, then his expression grew serious. "Not thinking of dabbling in Dark Magic again, are you?"

Kit almost punched him, but held himself back, not wanting to bring the wrath of Alec Lightwood-Bane down upon him. "Do you really think I haven't learned my lesson?" And then some. "We've talked about this before. I never wanted to perform the stupid ritual in the first place."

"One can never be too certain of these things."

"Well, I'm not the one you should be talking to about that," he snapped, turning away to walk out of the library, hoping Magnus would get the hint and follow him.

He did.

"Kit, I don't bring it up because I want to make you feel bad. You have the power to inspire real change between Shadowhunters and Downworlders-lasting change that no one else has been capable of achieving. You can't afford to make mistakes like that."

"I won't be able to do anything for anyone if I can't figure out my own God damned powers." Kit turned the corner and entered the study, feeling his frustration peak, then ebb to a simmering tension just beneath his skin. "I never even asked for any of this, Magnus. It all feels like some cruel cosmic joke."

"You Herondales and your inferiority complexes."

"Jace literally oozes confidence, I don't know what you are talking about."

"Will did too," Magnus gazed fondly at the portrait of William Herondale over the fireplace. "But underneath all that bravado and swagger you're all just tortured souls."

Kit said nothing as he opened the safe and pulled out the amulet. The warmth of the stone instantly seeped into this fingers and through his entire body. He handed it to Magnus. "Can you tell me what this is?"

"I take it that this is more than just some rock attached to a chain to be worn around the neck?"

"Why does everyone ask me such stupid questions?" he replied rhetorically, earning a withering look from the Warlock. "It must have something to do with my fey lineage then, because that rock called to me and lead me right to it. When I touch it, I feel warm all over."

"Hmmm. Interesting."

Kit continued as if Magnus hadn't spoken. "And it's not just some unassuming rock. I can see it's true colors-blue and green, speckled throughout with bronze flakes. Neither Dalton or the warlock at the shop could-or you, apparently. Why?"

Magnus shook his head. He closed his eyes, and Kit watched with interest as his hands illuminated around the mysterious stone, attempting to detect the source of its magic.

"Can you sense anything?"

"Yes….though I can't quite tell what. It doesn't appear to be dangerous, but in any case, maybe keep it locked up for the time being?" He returned the necklace to Kit, a puzzled expression on his face. "This is a very unusual item. The fact that it called to you definitely suggests Faerie magic, but if so, it is very old magic that I am unfamiliar with."

Kit considered this revelation for a moment, then asked curiously, "Why-no, how did it end up in some Downworld pawn shop, then? That seems too suspicious to be a coincidence."

"Your guess is as good as mine."

Kit replaced the artifact in the safe, feeling more confused than ever, yet exhilarated by the prospect of having a mystery to solve. He only wished that he could present it to Ty, the way he used to, and they could solve it together. He shook his head to rid it of the intruding and unhelpful thought. "Well, thank you, Magnus. I appreciate the help."

"I only wish I could be of more assistance. I'll do some digging and see if I can uncover anything for you."

Kit nodded and glanced at the clock. It was late, but he was far from tired. "Do you want a drink?"

"I thought you'd never ask."

...

Kit woke up the next morning with an angry hangover. Thank god he had bought coffee the day before; nothing else would cure his whiskey migraine. Except maybe more sleep. But as acting Head of the Institute, more sleep was unfortunately not an option.

He was really regretting his life choices at the moment.

He rolled out of bed unceremoniously, tangling himself in the sheets and falling flat on his face in the process. He groaned, and a knock echoed at the door. "You alright in there?"

Dru!

He groaned again, but untangled himself from the puddle of fabric on the floor and opened the door hastily. Dru stood there with a steaming mug of coffee in each hand, hair pulled back into two long, damp braids.

"Geez, you literally look like shit."

"Wow, thanks Dru. Good fucking morning to you, too."

She laughed, and it lit up her entire face. It struck him how much she had grown. She wasn't thirteen anymore, not that she had ever really looked thirteen. But she had outgrown her girlish features, and grown into the curves that were as much a part of her as her Nephilim blood. "Wait...are you hungover?"

"What gave it away?" he deadpanned.

"Mostly the way you are clutching at your head as if someone whacked you with a hammer. But also, your breath smells like something dead." She wrinkled her nose and handed him one of the mugs.

"You are a lifesaver."

"I know." She entered the room and took a seat in front of the fireplace. Each room had one, reminding Kit just how old the institute actually was. "Do you like it here?"

Kit sat across from her, sipping at his cup of delicious hangover cure. "It's not L.A.; but yes."

She was silent for awhile, and Kit wondered if she was still angry with him after all this time. "You could have stayed, you know," she said finally, lifting her Blackthorn eyes to his. "No one wanted you to leave. We all cared about you."

Not all of you. Kit dragged a hand through his disheveled curls. "Do we really have to talk about this?"

"You can't avoid it forever."

"Watch me," he smirked.

Dru rolled her eyes and sighed in exasperation. "You're insufferable."

"Would I be a Herondale if I wasn't?"

She snorted, "I think I liked you better as a Rook."

Kit dissolved into laughter, nearly spilling the mug of hot liquid on his lap. He had missed Dru, and slipping back into their routine made Kit feel more content than he had in a long while. After Jace and Clary's wedding, Kit had made an effort to stay in touch with Dru, visiting her at the Academy on special occasions, and Skype-ing with her late into the night, due to the time difference. She had respected his wishes to not talk about that night and had refrained from bringing up Ty, as long as Kit didn't ask. Dru took it upon herself to acquaint Kit with Thais, even though they had met briefly at the L.A. Institute before the battle on the Imperishable Fields. His friendship with the two of them lead to Kit requesting both of them to join him in London upon graduation.

"So…" began Dru, interrupting his stream of thoughts, "You and Dalton, huh?" Dru had also introduced them on one of the occasions Kit had visited the Academy.

Kit blushed immediately and avoided her pointed gaze, choosing instead to down the last dregs of his coffee.

"Come on, I want all the details!" she begged.

"I don't think you do."

"For fuck's sake. It's not that big of a deal."

He breathed a heavy sigh. "There's just not much to tell. We literally made it official yesterday."

"Are you happy?"

Kit didn't answer for a few long moments; that was such a loaded question. Was he happy? He really didn't know. He had felt loved with Jem, Tessa, and baby Charlotte in Devon, despite everything that had lead to him moving there. He was relieved to have Dru by his side again, and hadn't realized how much he needed her until he was hugging her the night before. Dalton made him smile, and kept him from sinking too far into his own head. And yet… he had ripped a hole in the fabric of his own life when he left L.A.; a hole that had only just recently begun to close.

"I'm working on it."

...

Dru and Thais had been briefed about the Hatton Garden heist, and were in the weapons rooms together with Jaime, readying themselves to head out after sundown. Thais tossed two seraph blades to Dru, chatting enthusiastically about the mission.

"I think the biggest mystery is why the vampires needed to encanto these mundanes to do their dirty work for them. I mean, couldn't the vamps have just waltzed right in and encanto'd the guards? It would have saved a lot of time and energy." Thais was mostly just talking through the mission to herself, but she made a good point as she stuffed throwing knives into her belt and boot buckles.

"We should definitely not rule out the possibility of this being some sort of trap or distraction to keep us busy," Dru agreed. "Jaime? What do you think?"

"I think all Downworlder related missions are a distraction. Sometimes it seems like we deal with Downworld politics more than we kill actual demons. Que estúpido."

"Well maybe we'll encounter a demon along the way for you to send back to Hell." Dru retorted, clapping Jaime on the back. "Until then, quit your bitchin'. You get to spend quality time with your bestie." She flashed him a brilliant grin, tossing him a set of twin daggers. He caught them with ease, and strapped them into his weapons belt.

Dru strapped two short swords to her back, and slipped extra daggers into the thigh holster attached to her belt. She held out her stele to Thais, "Do me."

Jaime made a choking sound behind them.

"Oh, chill the fuck out Jaime."

"You realize who you're talking to, right? You can't just say do me and expect me to be chill."

Dru saw that Thais was doubled over with laughter. After a few moments she straightened up with a wicked look in her eyes. She took the stele with a wink at Jaime and said to Dru, "I'll do you all night long, amante." Dru watched in amusement as Jaime's eyebrows retreated into his hairline at Thais' sensual tone.

Dru felt the familiar stinging sensation as the adamas formed the soundless, night vision, vigilance and glamour runes on her forearms. Thais extended the stele to Dru, who traced the same runes upon the dark, unmarked skin of Thais' shoulder blades as Jaime applied his own Marks.

Kit strode into the weapons room at that moment and held out two cellphones to Dru and Thais. "Here, I've programmed these with everyone's numbers. Try not to use them unnecessarily, they only have prepaid minutes. We can get you both new SIM cards for your usual phones at some point; for now, these will do."

"What are you and Dalton doing while we're out?" Dru asked with a smirk.

"I just got a report about an infestation of Shax demons down by the wharfs, so we'll be taking care of that."

"You suck. I wanted to kick some demon ass!" Jaime exclaimed bitterly.

Dru kicked him in the shin. "Didn't I tell you to quit your bitchin'?"

Kit laughed merrily. It made Dru happy to hear him laugh like that. His words to her that morning had stuck with her all day long. I'm working on it, he had said. It made her even more curious about what the hell happened between him and her brother. Ty would never talk about it, and if he did, he only said that he didn't know what happened, which was likely at least partially true coming from Ty. And Kit avoided the subject like the plague. In her heart, she knew that it was about more than just the attempt to bring Livvy back; something else happened to make Kit flee to another country. And it was eating away at him.

"Better watch your back Jaime. Dru can most definitely take you in a fight." Kit looked at her with pride in his gaze and Dru beamed at the compliment.

"I'll make sure I don't get on her bad side," he replied through his teeth, nursing the injury to his shin, but a smile tugged at his lips and suddenly they were all laughing together.

Ten minutes later, the three of them emerged onto Fleet Street and took a right. Hatton Garden safe deposit facility was within a twenty minute walk from the London Institute. The brisk Spring air chilled her skin, but she didn't mind.

She heard Thais ask Jaime, "What is there to do for fun around here?"

"That depends on your definition of fun," he replied casually. "Regardless, I could show you a good time," he winked at Thais, who's cheeks flushed a deep shade of red in the dim glow from the street lamps.

Seriously?

Dru snorted. "Oh for Angel's sake, keep flirting and I'll break both your ankles. That would be my definition of fun."

"Who called the 'no fun' police?" Thais teased. Dru shot her a look that said, don't test me.

Thais ignored the look, and hooked her arms through Dru and Jaime's on either side of her, "But for real, we should all hit up a club sometime."

Jaime nodded enthusiastically, "Let's all go tonight, after everyone is done with their missions. I know the perfect place."

When they arrived at the building, they were surprised to find it suspiciously dark and unoccupied. The three of them ducked into an alley across the street. "This doesn't seem right."

Dru squinted from the entrance of the alley, "There are markings around the doors." She pointed, "I think this place was warded."

"Likely to protect the assets inside."

Jaime mused, "That makes sense. Depending on the wards, that would explain why the mundanes were encanto'd."

Both girls nodded their agreement. "Let's check it out. While encanto'ing mundanes is not strictly against the Accords, those jewels could pose problems for the tentative alliance between Nephilim and the Downworld. They could be spelled with Dark Magic—"

"—Or used to buy allegiance. In the wrong hands…." Thais trailed off. Dru smiled slightly. It was typical for Thais to finish her sentences. The idea of having her as her parabatai crossed her mind, not for the first-or last, time. She just hadn't had the nerve to ask.

They crossed the street. They had already determined their plan for accessing the building under the assumption that it was guarded, however seeing that it wasn't, they decided to just use the front entrance. Jaime scrawled an Open rune on the door, and Dru entered first, letting her eyes adjust to the darkness. Thais pulled out her witchlight behind her, illuminating the hallway in its eerie glow.

"You would think there would be some sort of surveillance on this place…"

"Not if there's nothing left….the suspects took everything."

"It's sort of amazing," Dru considered, impressed.. "A bunch of mundanes managing a heist on this scale. Even with help from vampires….that's no easy feat."

"Word," Thais concurred.

They found the vault easily enough and gasped in unison at the destruction before them. Doors were wrenched open, boxes scattered all over the floor, broken and in pieces.

"By the Angel, they really did a number on this place," whistled Jaime.

They began rummaging through the piles of broken boxes and debris scattered throughout the room, however; it became apparent that there was nothing to find. Not a single clue as to who orchestrated the heist, not that Dru really expected anything different. Vampires tended to be pretty good at covering their tracks and encanto'd mundanes were practically useless for supplying information with any value. This was just one of those situations where they would have to wait and see what came of it. The thought didn't settle well in her stomach.

Dru kicked at an overturned safe deposit drawer in frustration, and it made a hollow sound. She furrowed her brows, "Did that sound weird to you?"

Jaime picked up the box and examined it carefully. "This has a false bottom." He attempted to pry it open, but it wouldn't budge.

Thais searched the room quickly, located a hammer and tossed it to Jaime. Setting the drawer down, he swung the hammer until the false bottom caved in and he could pry away the broken pieces and pulled out what appeared to be a small jewelry box.

He tossed the drawer aside and opened the small box. Dru and Thais crowded around him curiously. Inside was a gaudy looking ring, inscribed with some sort of star shaped marking on the top; no jewels, just silver, tarnished a bit along the edges.

"Seems oddly out of place compared to all the jewels that were stolen," Thais remarked.

"You would be correct," came a lazy drawl from the doorway. "Leave it to the Nephilim to find what the mundanes could not." The figure, clad in dark hooded robes, approached them with a feral look in his eyes. "I'll be taking that now."

It took only a few moments for Dru and the others to pull out an array of weapons from their gear and face the mysterious figure. She felt very disconcerted by the fact that none of them heard the intruder until he was in the room with them. Looking at him now, it was clear he was a vampire by the pallor of his skin and the peculiar stillness with which he glided. "Are you the vampire behind all this?" Dru hissed.

The vampire ignored her, continuing his advance upon them.

Jaime stuffed the ring into an inner pocket of his gear jacket. "You'll have to fight us first. Unless you care to tell us what's so special about this hunk of jewelry?"

"Would that I could, but I'm on strict orders to retrieve it. No questions asked."

That answered Dru's initial question. "That doesn't seem suspicious at all," she quipped. "And who, exactly, has you on this suicide mission? Because you know that's what this is, right? We either attempt to arrest you and bring you to the Clave, or we end up killing you to prevent you from taking this suddenly fascinating object, or you take it back to your master and he—"

"—or she," Thais piped in.

"—kills you anyway."

The figure continued his approach, completely unfazed. "Death is of no concern to me, little Shadowhunters."

"Then I guess it's your lucky day," Jaime exclaimed.

The three of them moved in unison to surround the cloaked man. He hadn't removed the hood, but his eyes gleamed from its shadows as if they were lit from within. Predatory. A cold chill ran up and down Dru's spine, filling her with adrenaline. They circled up around the vampire, sizing up their opponent and waiting for him to make the first move. Technically speaking, attacking him first would be a violation of the Accords, but they already had a good case against him since he caught them unawares and made his motives more than apparent.

Jaime taunted him and the vampire hissed, revealing his shiny fangs, pearlescent in the dim lighting. Then he sprang to action at Jaime, almost fast enough to dodge the silver dagger Dru threw from behind him.

...

Across the city, Dalton parked the institute car near the entrance to the wharfs. Kit reached into the back seat for his Niuweidao, the Chinese oxtail saber he had received from Jem on his first birthday in Devon. Much like Emma with Cortana, Kit took comfort from the weight of the blade in its sheath on his hip. It was the first gift he had received as a Shadowhunter and he cherished the heirloom that had belonged to Jem's mother. He still didn't have the words to express how much it had meant to him that Jem wanted him to have it.

He took a moment to admire it now. It was a magnificent weapon; single edged blade gently curved and flared at the point, the handle wrapped in red cord curved slightly to fit perfectly in the palm of his hand, as if it were made for him. The sheath was a work of art in itself—all dark hardwood inlaid with gold filigree and inscribed with Chinese characters that translated more or less to the Shadowhunter motto "we are but dust and shadows."

Kit secured the sheath to his weapons belt along with various daggers and seraph blades, then took out his stele to place runes of stamina, night vision, and agility upon his skin.

Dalton came up to him then, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder, "I can do that for you, if you'd like."

Kit shook his head. He preferred to draw his own Marks. It was silly, but Kit didn't want anyone who wasn't Jem or Ty placing runes upon his skin; Ty because he had given Kit his first permanent rune right here in London, and Jem because he was the only other person Kit trusted completely. He had thought after three years he would have gotten over it, but it had stuck with him regardless.

Dalton nodded, a look of hurt passing quickly across his face. Kit had never been able to tell him why, because that would have meant explaining his history with Ty, and Kit did not feel like dredging up that part of his past yet. Kit felt a twinge of guilt for hurting Dalton; he was nothing but caring and generous. And Kit could only manage to share part of himself with his boyfriend.

Dalton had turned away again, securing his own weapons. Kit reached out to grab his wrist, pulling him in for a kiss. Dalton touched his brow to Kit's, brown hair mingling with Kit's golden curls, and gave him a small smile. "I know you have your secrets. I just hope you can share them with me one day."

"I hope so, too." And he truly did. He wanted to move on from the past; wanted it to work with Dalton. He didn't want to keep his carefully constructed walls up around his heart all the time. It was exhausting. "Let's go send these Shax bastards back to whatever hellish dimension they came from."

They took off at a jog down towards the docks. They had a lot of ground to cover, so Dalton took out his Sensor. Turned out it wasn't necessary because they whirled around the corner of a shipping container and nearly collided with one of the beasts.

Dalton ducked away and Kit leaped over his back, seraph blade coming to life when he uttered the name Azrael. He barely had time to think before slamming the glowing blade into the neck of the demon and slicing through, and falling to a low crouch. The demon exploded in a burst of ichor and Kit shielded his eyes. His forearm burned slightly from the blackish goo that splattered him. They both took a moment to gauge their surroundings before Kit scrawled a quick iratze.

Dalton spoke abruptly, "Look, there's blood." He pointed at the ground where the demons had disappeared. They followed the trail silently, creeping along the wharf, Dalton's Sensor buzzing more and more erratically as they went.

They rounded another corner and gasped at the sight before them; there were at least ten of the pincered insect-like demons, all of which turned their ugly eyes on Kit and Dalton.

"Fuck."

Dalton groaned in agreement, and they squared up to face the demons approaching them with their hungry eyes and putrid mouths.

Kit caught a glimpse of the demon lair behind the monsters, where a human girl lay unconscious on the cold ground. "Bastards," Kit spat. "Cover me, Dalton."

They had fought enough demons together that Dalton knew exactly what Kit meant. He reached for his throwing knives and sent them flying into the four closest demons, leaving them too startled to defend against the onslaught of Kit's seraph blades, one in each hand now. They disappeared, and Kit heard Dalton call upon the angelic power of his own blades as he slid up beside him.

"Do we have an actual plan here?"

"First of all, killing them is the plan," Kit replied sarcastically. "Secondly, find a way to get to the girl."

Dalton sighed, then launched himself at the demons approaching to his left, careful to avoid the snapping pincers. Satisfied, Kit turned to face the demons to his right. He flipped a sword in his hand and threw it into the face—if you could even call it that— of the largest being. It hit its mark, directly between the soulless black depths that were its eyes. Kit caught the blade by the handle as the demon left the earthly plane and plunged it into the next, careful to avoid the armor-like shell covering its thorax.

He couldn't dodge away quickly enough though to avoid the demon's pincer as it sliced across his arm. There was no time to draw a healing rune. He glanced over at Dalton, who faced off against two of the parasites and was being pushed back against the side of a storage unit. Kit breathed through the pain in his arm and climbed the side of the unit. Using the height to his advantage he dropped down onto the back of one of the demons, stabbing straight down into its skull. Dalton gaped at him in awe and plunged his blade into the last demon.

They glanced at each other, breathless and exhilarated from the fight and almost completely covered in ichor. Kit could feel it in his hair, and winced slightly as the burning sensation continued across his exposed skin.

Together, they sprinted over to the girl.

Another Shax demon jumped out from the shadows as they neared her, and Kit, growing angrier and more impatient by the minute, beheaded the thing in one swift stroke. He surveyed the surroundings, and deeming it safe, returned to kneel next to the girl.

Dalton already had his fingers on her neck, checking for a pulse. A nasty gash ran from her shoulder to the inside of her elbow, her clothes bloodstained and torn. "She's alive," Dalton said.

Kit breathed a sigh of relief. "We need to get her to a hospital." He gently lifted her from the ground and cradled her against his chest, not caring that her arm dripped blood down the front of his gear. She couldn't have been more than fifteen years old.

They were almost to the car when she began to stir. When her eyes focused and she was able to comprehend her surroundings she began to thrash and scream in Kit's arms. Kit nearly dropped her, but managed to set her gently on the ground. "Hey, please calm down. You're hurt, we are just trying to help."

She screamed again but then seemed to register the pain in her arm. She nearly fainted at the sight of her own blood, and Dalton caught her as she slumped to the ground. "Shhh, it's ok. What's your name?" he said soothingly, smoothing her sandy blonde hair tenderly. "I'm Dalton. That's Kit."

She glanced between them for a few moments, considering her options. Finally she said, "Amelia. What were those things?" she whispered fearfully.

Kit knew his eyes widened in shock. "You could see them?"

Her brows furrowed in confusion. "Duh."

"Sorry, it's just that most people don't. It means you have something called the Sight. Give me a moment…" he trailed off. Kit took out his stele, earning a curious, wide eyed look from Amelia, and scrawled an emergency fire message. He turned back to the girl. "What were you doing out here?"

She ignored the question. "What do you mean, the Sight?"

Kit was spared from explaining when a soft shimmer appeared and a portal materialized in the air to his right. Clary Herondale stepped through the swirl of lights and colors with her parabatai, Simon.

Amelia's light blue eyes turned to saucers as she took in the sight of the portal and the two emerging from it, shaking her head in complete awe and disbelief.

Clary rushed up to Kit and hugged him fiercely, her wild red curls framing her freckled face. "Is everything alright?

Kit gestured over his shoulder to the trembling girl, "She was attacked by Shax demons. Imagine our shock when we learned she also has the Sight."

Simon approached the girl slowly. "Give me a moment to talk to her." Simon was an official recruiter for the Clave, tasked with the job of explaining, in situations often similar to this one, what it meant to have the Sight and offering a place for the gifted mundanes at the Academy. They always had the choice to return to their mundane lives, but most of them didn't once they knew about the Shadow World.

Clary nodded with a fond gaze in her eyes and Kit and Dalton followed her to give Simon and the young girl some space.

"Kit, you're injured," Clary pointed out.

He glanced back down at his arm. Truthfully, he had forgotten about the pincer wound. He grabbed his stele and placed a few healing runes around the wound, watching as it knit itself back together in moments. He looked to Dalton, checking him for wounds. Seeing none, he turned back to Clary, running his hand through his hair. The high from the fight with the demons was wearing off, leaving Kit feeling agitated and anxious. "I'm sorry if I interrupted anything important."

Clary placed her hand gently on his arm, eyes softening with a tenderness towards him that he could never resist. "Kit, you are important. And I will come to you anytime you need me. For any reason."

He smiled, accepting the sentiment. "It's been awhile, how are you and Jace?"

Clary beamed up at him. "Actually, I have news for you. I know Jace wanted to be here too, but I don't think I can wait." She reached into the bag slung over her shoulder, pulling out a small folded paper and handing it over to Kit.

He looked down, unfolding a black and white picture, and found he could not contain his excitement as he studied the ultrasound image of a tiny being that look very much like an alien. "For real? Clary, this is great news!" He hugged her tightly, noticing now that she was showing. "When?"

"August," she said happily. "It's going to be a boy."

"The Angel help us, more Herondales," he chuckled. "Let's hope he inherits more of your qualities. One Jace is one too many on most days."

She laughed effortlessly, "I'll be sure not to tell Jace you said that."

Kit shrugged, "Wouldn't matter to me if you did. He could use a reality check once in a awhile."

At that moment, Simon rejoined the group with the girl in tow. She was no longer crying and appeared to have calmed down immensely. "Thank you for saving me tonight," she paused, collecting her thoughts. "I didn't know I wanted or needed it. It's a long story, but I ran away from my foster home….I don't have a home to go back to, but I think I would feel at home at this….Academy," she spoke softly and with a glance back at Simon. Yet her voice carried with it a firm confidence that impressed Kit while her words reminded him of the boy he was almost three years ago, losing his only family but gaining an entire institute, and then some, in the process.

Kit smiled at her warmly, "In that case, Amelia, when you graduate from the Academy—" He didn't say if because he didn't think it mattered, and he could tell that she was a fighter. "—there is a place for you here in London, if you decide to want it."

She nodded her appreciation to him and Dalton, turning to latch on to Simon's arm once again. Kit caught Simon by the sleeve of his jacket. "Thank you, Simon. Take care of her, okay?"

Simon smiled charmingly. "She's in good hands, Herondale. It was good to see you."

He disappeared back through the portal, Clary close behind. "Clary, hold up!" Kit bounded over to her. "Your picture," he tried to return it to her.

"Oh, no. That's yours to keep."

"Okay. Thank you, then," Kit replied a bit awkwardly. Clary shared the same motherly tenderness and generosity as Tessa, which unsettled him at times and made him want to crawl under a rock and never come out.

Clary gave him another quick hug and vanished through the shimmering portal with a wave at him and Dalton. He turned back to Dalton and breathed heavily, "Let's go home. I'm exhausted and in desperate need of a shower."