Hey guys! You don't even know how hard it was for me to write this. All I wanted to do was close the blinds and sleep. I want Wednesday to never happen. But I got it done for you so please enjoy it.

-Jen

Chapter twelve

It was a long process doing Clary's hair. Once it was dry, it went wide with curls. The Servant had the curling iron on hot, so that her curls would be more defined, and less wild. It took an hour for her hair to get done. Then she did Clary's makeup. Once that was completed Clary walked out of the bathroom in her robe and went to unzip the dress. Jace on Clary's desk, looking through yet another sketchbook. "Jace!" He looked up at her and smiled. Clary didn't return it. Instead she snatched it out of his hands and took it with her to the bed. "Stop looking through my things! Seriously!" Jace pouted his lip.

"Clary, come on. It's just a sketchbook." She shook her head. There were some sketches in the back of this one… It was like her diary and she didn't want him to catch on. "What else am I suppose to do?" He was right. Clary knew he wasn't going to the party. Valentine would never allow it. She needed to keep him busy. And she needed to hide this book from him. She opened the top drawer of her nightstand and removed a small key. She put all three of her books in there and locked it. She then proceeded to put the key in her bra. At least until she could find something else to carry it in. She walked over to her bookshelf and removed the Shadow Hunter's manual. The new one. The one Valentine had created. She plopped it into Jace's lap and went back over to her dress.

"I want chapter one through four read by the time I get back tonight." She said in an orderly tone. Jace raised his eyebrows.

"You're telling me what to do now?" She glared at him.

"Those are the new Shadow Hunter's laws. For once, I'm more ahead than you are. So please just read it." Jace slid off of the desk and got in her personal space. "And what if I don't want to?" He asked. She really didn't want to say it. But she knew that she had to.

"Then you'll have to be punished." She snapped. Jace cockily tilted his head to the side.

"Is that a sexual threat?" Clary narrowed her eyes.

"No. It's a physical-pain one." She opened up the bag and held back a gasp. The dress was absolutely stunning. It was black one shoulder with a long sleeve. Jewels went across the top and over the shoulder. As Clary slipped it on, she noticed that the right side of it, was slit up to her mid thigh. This is too revealing for me. Clary thought. However, it looked great with her red hair. She was surprised that Jace hadn't said anything yet. She turned to the desk but he wasn't there. She did a three sixty, finding him leaned against the balcony door on the floor, reading the book.

"What are you doing?" She asked, shell-shocked. Jace looked up.

"Reading. Isn't that what you wanted?" Something told Clary that he was pissed. But she ignored it. The servant girl had brought her a pair of black high heels with rhinestones riding up the back. They had to be worth a lot of cash. She slipped them on carefully and glanced at her clock. It was already four thirty. Sighing she walked slowly to the door, trying to adjust to the new heels.

"Don't leave the room." Clary said.

"Yes Mom." Rolling her eyes she shut the door, wishing at that moment that she had a lock on the outside of her door. She loved Jace, but that didn't mean she trusted him.

"Hello dear sister." Jonathan said, shutting his own door. "Don't you look beautiful tonight." Clary studied him. Then she scrunched her nose.

"Why are you being nice to me?" She said backing away a step. Jonathan smiled.

"Can't a brother give his sister a complement once in a while."

"When the brother is part demon and has been threatening to kill her for the past two years, no." Jonathan rolled his eyes and looped his arm through hers. Clary didn't pull away this time. He guided her down the main staircase.

"When it's the sister's birthday I think niceness is a requirement. Don't you think?" Clary didn't look at him. "Too bad your Angel Boy couldn't come." Clary ignored him. "Father's looking for suitors for you." Jonathan piped up after a moment of silence. Clary stopped dead on the fourth step from the bottom, causing Jonathan's arm to jerk as he continued down.

"What?" Clary said. Jonathan laughed.

"You didn't truly think Father wanted you to marry Jace?" He shook his head. "He has Jace in your room to test you. He wants to see if you can tame him."

"That's impossible." He just stared at her. "Taming Jace I mean." Jonathan shrugged.

"I'm only telling you what Father told me. And it's not impossible; a little more than you can handle, yes. But impossible no." Clary narrowed her eyes.

"What's that suppose to mean?"

"Come on Clar. Jake and the other boys have been looking at you for the past months. Don't tell me you haven't noticed." Clary crossed her arms over her chest.

"No. But what does that have to do with Jace." Jonathan took another step down.

"Think about it." She followed him down a step. But she didn't say anything.

"Why doesn't Father just control him with the rune?" She asked suddenly. Jonathan raised one eyebrow.

"He's teaching you." A thought struck Clary. It was a story Jace had told her a long while ago:

_Flashback-(excerpt from City of Bones)

. "Once there was a boy," said Jace. "When the boy was six years old, his father gave him a falcon to train. Falcons are raptors – killing birds, his father told him, the Shadowhunters of the sky.

"The falcon didn't like the boy, and the boy didn't like it, either. Its sharp beak made him nervous, and its bright eyes always seemed to be watching him. It would slash at him with beak and talons when he came near: For weeks his wrists and hands were always bleeding. He didn't know it, but his father had selected a falcon that had lived in the wild for over a year, and thus was nearly impossible to tame. But the boy tried, because his father told him to make the falcon obedient, and he wanted to please his father.

"He stayed with the falcon constantly, keeping it awake by talking to it and even playing music to it, because a tired bird was meant to be easier to tame. He learned the equipment: the jesses, the hood, the brail, the leash that bound the bird to his wrist. He was meant to keep the falcon blind, but he couldn't bring himself to do it – instead he tried to sit where the bird could see him as he touched and stroked its wings, willing it to trust him. He fed it from his hand, and at first it would not eat. Later it ate so savagely that its beak cut the skin of his palm. But the boy was glad, because it was progress, and because he wanted the bird to know him, even if the bird had to consume his blood to make that happen.

"He began to see that the falcon was beautiful, that its slim wings were built for the speed of flight, that it was strong and swift, fierce and gentle. When it dived to the ground, it moved like light. When it learned to circle and come to his wrist, he nearly shouted with delight Sometimes the bird would hop to his shoulder and put its beak in his hair. He knew his falcon loved him, and when he was certain it was not just tamed but perfectly tamed, he went to his father and showed him what he had done, expecting him to be proud.

"Instead his father took the bird, now tame and trusting, in his hands and broke its neck. 'I told you to make it obedient,' his father said, and dropped the falcon's lifeless body to the ground. 'Instead, you taught it to love you. Falcons are not meant to be loving pets: They are fierce and wild, savage and cruel. This bird was not tamed; it was broken.'

"Later, when his father left him, the boy cried over his pet, until eventually his father sent a servant to take the body of the bird away and bury it. The boy never cried again, and he never forgot what he'd learned: that to love is to destroy, and that to be loved is to be the one destroyed."

Jace was the falcon. But instead of him being wild and 'uncontrollable' he was in love. And so was Clary. She'd have to beat him into obedience, or… she shuddered at the thought. Jonathan's thoughts were clear. Seduction.

Okay. Stopping there. Can't think anymore. At least I'm giving you guys something.