A woman's scream echoed down the dark hallway, the sound burying itself in her bones and turning her stomach. She knew that scream. It was her mother.
She forced herself to move forward, her arms stretched out in front of her as she tried to feel her with through the pitch-blackness. Her feet were bare, and she could feel the rough asphalt beneath her cut into her skin.
Clary took a deep breath, trying to calm down. Her mother was in danger. That's what she needed to focus on, not the panic slowly clawing its way up from the pit of her stomach.
Another scream cut through the air, and she made herself move faster. She was running out of time. Her mother was running out of time.
She tripped over something on the ground, landing painfully on her hands and knees. The asphalt scraped her bare skin. She scrambled up, ignoring the stinging from her new wounds. All of her focus was on finding her mom.
When she looked in front of her again, there was suddenly a small stream of light spilling into the hall. She could no see the rocky floor and the dirt packed walls surrounding her. Where was she?
A yelp of pain brought her back out of her thoughts and she started running toward the light. That's where her mom had to be. She reached the light and came to a door that was cracked open. The large wooden door squeaked loudly as she pushed it open completely.
There was a body lying in a heap in the center of the small room. The coppery scent of blood filled her nostrils as she noticed the red liquid surrounding the body. She instantly recognized the pale skin and mess of red hair of the body.
"Mom!" she cried out.
She went to move forward, but a hand suddenly grabbed her from behind.
She woke up with a start, a strangled scream forcing its way up her throat. A light sheen of sweat covered her body and she was breathing heavily. She hastily reached around for a light and managed to find a lamp on the bedside table.
As a soft yellow light filled the room, she let out a sigh of relief. She was no longer in that room. She was by herself and she was safe.
The door suddenly flew open and she jumped in surprise. However, she quickly tried to calm her racing heart as she realized it was Alec standing in the doorway.
"Are you alright? We heard you scream," he said, scanning the room.
"Yeah," she sighed. "It was just a bad dream."
"Are you settling in okay?" he asked, leaning against the doorframe.
She nodded. "Sorry Luke stuck you guys with me."
His brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"
"All of this was his idea. It's kinda hard to say no to your boss."
He cracked a small smile. "Luke had nothing to do with this. Jace came up with it and proposed it to him."
Now it was her turn to look confused. "Why would he do that? Jace hates me."
Alec let out a light chuckle. "You don't get it, do you? Jace cares about you. He might have a funny way of showing it, but believe me he cares."
"Why are you telling me this?"
He shrugged. "I'm tired of Jace moping around every time he blows up at you instead of conveying his worry in a more productive way. Speaking of which, he's probably pacing in his bedroom right now after convincing me to come check on you since he didn't want to 'fuck it up like usual,'" he said, making air quotes with his fingers when speaking the last five words.
"I guess you probably want me to go talk to him, huh?"
He smiled and nodded. "I would greatly appreciate it," he responded before leaving.
Clary sat there for a moment, trying to process everything. Was Alec right? Did Jace actually care about her? She just couldn't wrap her mind around it. She spent so much time hating him, thinking he hated her right back.
She let out a heavy sigh before throwing the comforter off and getting out of bed. She quietly made her way down the hall and paused outside of Jace's door, which was cracked open slightly. She could hear his footsteps across the floor and see his shadow as it passed by the door. He was pacing, just like Alec had said.
She gently pushed the door open and he stopped his pacing immediately. He stared at her and she squirmed under his gaze. She looked around the room and was surprised by how clean and bare it was. The walls were white and lifeless and there didn't seem to be a single object out of place.
"Hey," she said, wrapping her arms around her middle.
"Hey," he responded. "Are you okay? What happened?"
She shrugged. "Just a bad dream. Sorry for the screaming."
"It's fine. What was the dream about?"
She moved her gaze to her bare feet. "My mom." Her voice cracked and the back of her eyes stung as the dream flashed through her mind again.
"You know she's going to be okay, right?" he said, gently placing a hand on her shoulder.
She looked up at him and shook her head as tears started to leak from her eyes. "I'm so sorry," she sobbed.
His brow furrowed. "Sorry? For what?"
She didn't respond, crying harder instead. What was she sorry for? For worrying him? For putting him in danger? For lying to him this entire time? What wasn't she supposed to be sorry for?
"Hey, don't cry," he said, looking at a loss for what to do.
She knew she couldn't keep this secret any more. She had to tell him. She had to let him know. She couldn't keep putting everyone in danger. But she also wasn't sure if she could tell him. Would she be able to handle his reaction?
"I'm sorry," she said, stepping out of his reach. "I-I didn't mean to cry. I'm, uh, just going to go back to bed."
She turned to leave, but he stopped her. "Listen, Clary, if you ever need to talk or something I'm always here, you know?" he said, running a hand through is already disheveled hair.
"Thanks," she responded with a small smile before quickly exiting.
Back in her room, she sat on the edge of her bed with her head buried in her hands, feeling more confused than she ever had. She had not been expecting that interaction with Jace. It had to have been the most civil they had ever been with each other. It was actually more than civil; it was nice.
All it did was add to her guilt. Knowing that he cared about her on some level was going to make it so much harder to keep lying to him, but letting him know her secret was not something she could just impulsively do. There was one person she wished so desperately she could talk to about, but that person was locked up in a safe house somewhere and she had no way of contacting her.
The only person she could talk to at this point was Luke, but the best he could do was offer advice. He didn't know what it was like. He didn't know how hard it was to hide a huge part of your life from everyone, knowing they would more than likely hate you for it once the truth got out.
She just hoped that when the time came, Jace would be able to forgive her.
She sat in Jace's desk chair with her legs drawn up and a sketchpad resting on her knees. Alec and Jace both had to work today, and she was forced to come with. They didn't want to leave her alone.
So instead of sketching in the silence and comfort of her own room, she was forced to do it in the noisy precinct surrounded by people and the constant sound of chatter and phones ringing. It was making it very hard for her to concentrate and she groaned in frustration.
"Everything alright?" someone asked from behind her.
She jumped slightly, not expecting anyone to be there, and turned around. Raphael was standing behind the chair, staring down at her drawing.
"Yeah, I'm fine," she said.
"Who's that?" He nodded to her sketchpad.
"My mom," she responded, quickly closing the pages.
"You look a lot like her."
She raised her eyebrows. She had no idea how he could see the resemblance from the sketch. It was a wide shot of her mother standing in her studio painting. There weren't really any distinguishable features aside from hair color and textures. She was about to respond when Jace suddenly showed up next to his next.
"Santiago," he said curtly, glaring at Raphael.
"Ah, Wayland, how nice of you to join us. I was just admiring Clary's work," Raphael replied.
"How nice of you," he sneered. "Now if you don't mind, I need to have a moment alone with her."
"Of course. Wouldn't want to get in the way of your work. See you later, Clary." He winked and walked away.
Jace walked him walk away. The second he was out of eyesight, he turned his attention to Clary.
"I don't want you talking to him. There's something off about him."
Clary opened her mouth to give a snarky comeback about not telling her who she could interact with, but immediately closed it as the conversation she had with Alec the previous night ran through her head. He was just showing he cared. Maybe not in the best way, but he was trying. She just looked at him and nodded instead.
He raised one of his eyebrows in surprise. "Really? That's it? You're not going to argue with me?"
She shrugged. "I trust your judgment."
A smile broke out on his face at her response. "Wow, Fray. Was not expecting that from you."
"How did your interviews go?" she asked, changing the subject. Alec and he had been gone for the past hour and half interviewing people who said they had information on their case.
"It was a bust," he sighed, leaning against the desk. "Nobody really had any information and it ended up being a huge waste of time."
She rolled her eyes. "Didn't see that coming."
"Yeah, it's expected. But we have to at least try on the off chance that someone actually knows something for once. Anyway, Iz wants to go out tonight."
Clary closed her eyes and groaned. "Why," she whined.
"She thinks this case is stressing us out too much and that we need to 'let loose.' Her words not mine."
"And I'm guessing there's no excuse we can make as to why we can't go?" She did not want a repeat of what happened the last time they went out.
Jace let out a chuckle. "Knowing Iz, there's not a chance in hell."
Clary sat in a booth in Pandemonium drinking a glass of water. There was no way she was drinking alcohol tonight. Not after what happened the last time she went out with Izzy, Alec, and Jace. Apparently she was the only staying sober for the night, though. She had watched her friends down numerous rounds of shots, and they were currently somewhere in the throng of people grinding on the dance floor.
She had no interest in joining them. She didn't even want to be there. The only upside of her night was that Izzy had allowed her to dress herself, so instead of a tight revealing dress, she was in jeans and a dressy top.
Someone stopped next to her table, and she looked up to kindly ask them to leave her alone, but her blood ran cold as she met a pair of familiar black eyes.
"Hello, little sister," the man said, a smirk spreading across his face. His eyes were the same color she remembered, but his hair was black now. He had to have recently dyed it, maybe trying to fit in.
"J-Jonathan?" she stuttered out, before desperately looking around the club trying to find Jace or Alec.
Jonathan tsked at her. "I wouldn't draw any attention to us, Clarissa. You cause a scene, and with the press of a button I can have Jocelyn dead," he said, waving a phone in the air.
"You wouldn't," she gasped.
"Really, Clarissa? You think I'm above hurting mommy dearest? That bitch means nothing to me," he spat.
"What do you want, Jon?" she asked, trying to sound more calm than she was. Her heart was beating erratically in her chest and she felt like she might pass out. Why was here of all places? Was he following her? And how did he find their mom?
"I just wanted to talk to my little sister," he responded, sliding into the booth next to her. "Is that a crime?"
"No, but killing people is."
"Oh, you've got an attitude on you. I like it, Clarissa."
"You're still not telling me what you want."
He shook his head slightly at her. "I told you, I just want to talk."
"About what?"
"About your little investigation, Clarissa. What else? I want you to stop being involved. It is such a disrespectful thing to do to our family. After everything fath-"
"Valentine was a coldblooded criminal," she seethed. "And you're no different than him. I can't wait for the day they finally bring you down."
"What game are you playing at, Clarissa? You think that if you help them they'll just forge the truth when it comes out? Face it, they're going to think you're just as much a Morgenstern as I am. Do you think your little friends are going to be happy and forgiving when they learn you've been lying to them this entire time? I have a hard time believing you're really that naïve."
"I don't care what happens as long as you're off the streets and no longer hurting innocent people, Jonathan."
"I don't believe you when you say that. I think you really care. That's why you haven't told them yet. Because you're afraid of what their reactions will be." He glanced toward the dance floor. "Speaking of, the golden boy is on his way over here right now. While I would love to continue this conversation, I need to take my leave. But I'm going to leave you with a piece of advice. Watch your back and drop the investigation, or things aren't going to end very well for you." With that, he stood up, and quickly stalked toward the exit.
"Who was that?" Jace slurred as he stumbled up to the table.
"Just some guy," she responded, staring at the door that Jonathan had just walked through. "Is it alright if we go home?"
"I think I'm going to stay," he said, looking across the room at a tall blond girl who was biting her lip at him. "But I'm sure Alec won't mind leaving with you. Do you want me to go get him?"
She shook her head. "No, it's fine. I'll go find him, and you can go talk to that girl you're making googly eyes at."
She got out of the booth and walked toward the crowd of people dancing in the middle of the club. It took her awhile, but she finally spotted Alec. He was dancing, but remained close to Izzy, and she knew he was just looking out for his sister. She yearned for that normal familial relationship.
"Hey, are you okay?" he asked as she approached him.
"I just feel really sick," she lied. "I was wondering if you wouldn't mind going home with me? Jace is a little preoccupied." She pointed to the booth where Jace and the blonde girl were now sitting, his arm slung around her shoulders and her laughing at whatever he was saying.
"Yeah, of course. Just let me get Iz and we can leave."
She thanked him and headed over to the exit to wait for them. Jonathan's words swam around in her head. She was afraid of their reactions. She was putting off telling them for that exact reason. But she had dug the hole too deep at this point. There's no way she could come clean until Jonathan was caught. If she told them now, they would all turn on her. They wouldn't trust her. And she needed their trust in order to help take him down. But she swore to herself that the second he was in handcuffs, she would come clean. No matter the consequence.