On the way back from our hunt-one with a plot twist that would give any great author a run for their money-Alec droned on about how we would have to tell Hodge everything that happened. I rolled my eyes again when he repeated that mundies shouldn't be able to see us. Before he could continue, I cut him off.
"We know, Alec. We heard you the first twenty times. I'm pretty sure every shadowhunter knows that mundies shouldn't have the sight. But clearly, for whatever reason, little redhead there is an exception. So stop lecturing us on things that we are clearly already aware of. We have Hodge for that."
He blinked at me a few times, his blue eyes seeming owlish in the light from the take-out place beside us. Isabelle raised an eyebrow at me, but said nothing to deny my little spiel.
"What crawled up your ass?" Alec finally asked.
I bit my tongue to keep back a smart comment about what exactly could go up his ass.
"Nothing, Alec. We already know that this is weird, even for us, so we don't need to hear it twenty times," I said with a sigh.
He huffed before turning back around and beginning to walk again. Isabelle slipped over to my side.
"Seriously, Jace. What's up? You never pick at Alec about his lectures," she said, lifting one dark, perfectly tweezed eyebrow.
I shrugged, looking forward at Alec's back. The streets were fairly quiet. There were a few mundies walking around but honestly, try walking around anywhere in New York City at any time and not see at least one other person.
"Usually hunts put me in a good mood. This one was just…freaky. And tiring. I want sleep. And I want a fresh shirt," I said, pulling the front of my shirt away from my chest, the ichor and blood causing the stiffening fabric to cling to my skin.
She smirked at me.
"Aw, does little Jacey need a nap?" she teased, loud enough that Alec looked back with a smirk.
I rolled my eyes, pushing her playfully away from my side.
"Oh, I think he does. He's in a pissy mood. Hmm, maybe he doesn't need a nap, just some Midol," Alec said with a grin.
I narrowed my eyes at him. "You're going to need some tampons yourself once I stick my foot up your ass," I growled lightheartedly.
He just laughed at me as we walked up to the institute doors. He pulled a little key out of his pocket and stuck it into the door. It opened with a click and he pushed it open, walking in ahead of us.
We walked through the wooden pews, the candlelight casting strange, flickering shadows onto the stone flooring. We walked into the rickety old elevator, still bickering among ourselves.
As much as I wanted to head to my room, get a shower, and go to sleep when the elevator doors opened, I knew I needed to go talk to Hodge before I could do anything. We walked down the empty, familiar halls until we reached the library. I pushed the doors open and held them for Alec and Isabelle before I followed them in.
"Hodge?" I called into the incredulously large room.
Shelves reached up to the ceiling, books shoved tightly into each little space. The warm, homey atmosphere of the large place was completed by the overstuffed sofas creating a little square around an old, Persian rug, covering a section of the mosaic we stood on. I knew that if I stood up on the second floor that I would see the setup covered only a tiny part of the angel Raziel. A coffee table sat in the middle of the set-up, with a small stack of books resting on it. From behind the counter to the left, Hodge's slightly hunched form stepped out of the shadows.
"You've returned from your hunt? Successfully, I assume," he said with a warm smile.
The three of us exchanged a look. Alec and Isabelle stepped back, leaving me with the duty of explaining to Hodge about what happened in Pandemonium. I sighed. Typical.
"Well, yes? I think. The demon is dead, so I would say so. But when we were there, there was this mundie girl. And she saw us. Like saw us. As in, she saw through our glamours. And they weren't malfunctioning because no other mundanes could see us," I explained quickly.
Hodge's expression darkened, his eyes becoming wider. I heard Isabelle scoff behind me and fought the urge to smirk. She liked long, elaborate, exciting stories, not brief, boring reports.
"What do you mean she saw you?"
And so I broke into the story of out hunt, not leaving out a single detail, which I'm sure Isabelle was pleased with.
Hodge's expression had calmed some by the end, but his eyes were still wide, his shoulders tensed.
"A mundane that can see us? That is…troubling. I have never heard of something like this," he said wearily before seeming to come to a decision.
"You must bring her here. I wish to speak with her, see what she knows."
I snorted.
"Didn't seem like much from my point of view. She was trying to protect the stupid demon. Thought we were killing a human," I said with a little smile.
"It's better to be safe than sorry, Jace. I need to speak with her. She may be dangerous."
"I'll go," Alec offered, just as I scoffed at the thought of the mundane being dangerous.
Hodge had nodded before I could process it.
"No way. I'm going," I protested, trying and failing to not sound childish.
Hodge raised a gray brow, causing more wrinkles to appear on his aged, kind face.
"Do you not trust Alec's capabilities to bring the girl back safely?" he questioned.
I wrinkled my nose.
"I didn't say that. I just stand a better chance of bringing her here willingly," I said, raising my chin.
"And why is that, Jace?" Alec asked tiredly.
"I'm charming, and highly attractive," I said with a cocky smirk. "If you were of the opposite gender, wouldn't you go with me?"
"Jace-"
"People tend to find blondes more trustworthy, you know," I shot out randomly.
I don't know where the hell that came from, but it made everyone's eyebrows furrow. I bit my cheek, hoping Hodge would agree to let me go retrieve the mundie. She made me curious. How could she see us? And what was she like? She's brave as hell for a tiny, human girl. I could snap her like a twig with my pinky, yet she stood up to me with Alec and Isabelle backing me up. Or maybe she was just stupid.
I tilted my head to the side. No, I don't think she's stupid. Just…careless, rash. And brave. I couldn't get the adjective out of my head. What mundie would intervene with Shadowhunter business even if they could see us?
"Why do you want to go so bad?" Alec finally snapped.
I raised a light brow at his hostility.
"I-"
"Stop it, you two. Jace, tomorrow you may go retrieve her. For now, you all need rest. And a shower, Jace, you smell," Hodge pointed out.
I blinked as he turned his back, calling to Hugo, his pet raven.
"Well that was uncalled for."
I turned to Alec, who rolled his eyes and turned in the direction of the large double doors. I followed him through them. We walked side-by-side down the corridor, Isabelle striding in front of us. We walked silently, our footsteps echoing in the quiet halls.
I reached my room first and peeled off from Alec's side, opening the door. The three of us said our goodnights and Isabelle wished me luck bringing the mundane back, reminding me to use a glamour because 'I'm not going to be there to create a scene. Not everything has to center around me getting people to look at me'.
I closed the door and slipped my fighting gear off. I took a quick shower before getting ready for bed.
When I slept that night, I dreamt of a redheaded girl with blazing green eyes. I dreamt that she was here, in the institute, the safe haven for all Shadowhunters in New York City. No mundane had walked these empty halls in hundreds of years. I dreamt that she filled the hollow corridors with life and energy. Her laughter and smiles lit up the uniform spaces.
And when I woke up in the morning, I didn't remember a minute of it.
When I woke up, I thought briefly about wearing fighting gear, but passed on the idea. I was only going to retrieve a mundie-Clary, I remembered absently- not fight a demon. It's not like the little girl could put up much of a fight at all, even if she tried, which I have no doubt she would if she didn't willingly come with me.
Good thing I'm physically appealing, I thought with a little grin to myself.
I poked my head into the kitchen, sighing in relief when there was no sign of Isabelle attempting to be a surrogate chef during Maryse's absence. Let me just say, Maryse's cooking skill did not get handed down to her daughter. It made me wish that the mother hen figure of the institute wasn't away as often. But with the Accords- the peacemaking between Shadowhunters and other human-like creatures of the shadow world-being signed in Idris, both Lightwood parents and their youngest son, Max, were pretty busy. As many Shadowhunters as possible had been called into the City of Glass.
I thought wistfully of the Shadowhunter home country. It was the most beautiful place I had ever seen, that I could remember even though I had been young that last time I was there. The Demon Towers, which had stood sentinel for hundreds of years-always protecting the beautiful city from any demon who would try to cross into their borders-shined like diamonds in the sun's light.
Living in the countryside as I grew up, my childhood home hadn't been protected by demons, although few dared to ever venture into Idris anyway. We had never been visited by a demon during the eight years I grew up there.
I finished my toast-which I didn't remember making, being too lost in thought- and stepped out into the hallway, just as Isabelle passed by. She turned to me with a grin.
"Heading out for the mundane?"
I walked besides her, heading towards the elevators.
"Yep," I confirmed.
She nodded with a smirk on her red-painted lips.
"Don't scare her too much," she warned, pointing an accusing finger at me.
I put my hands up, palms facing her, in surrender.
"Okay, you got me. I was going to try and ask her to go on a hunt for rogue bloodsuckers. But you may be right, maybe she'll find that mildly frightening," I said.
She rolled her eyes with a scoff.
"Whatever. Just bring her back."
I nodded, giving her a goofy salute before stepping into the small elevator.
Once I reached the sidewalk outside of the Institute, I stood for a minute, wondering where she would be. Maybe this wouldn't be as simple as I thought. How was I going to find her? It was clear that she wouldn't be in Pandemonium. I huffed, deciding to just walk in that direction. It couldn't hurt.
If she had been there then she probably lives somewhere nearby. I absentmindedly pulled a bone-handled knife from the wide metal cuffs on my wrists. I expertly twisted the blade through my fingers, feeling the cool metal glide between my fingers easily.
I began to just wander aimlessly once I actually reached the popular club. I paced through the streets, my knife flashing reflected midday sunlight onto buildings and people as I passed them. I had been watching one particular reflection when my eye caught something in the window it had been shining on. A flash of red. I halted immediately, looking closer.
I grinned widely as I walked back a few step to the doors of the small coffee house. The doors shut quietly behind me as I entered the calm atmosphere. I glanced around with a frown. The ability to create a space so calm, so serene, is something only mundanes possess. For Shadowhunters, it's always about the fight, the rush from it. We don't bask in the peace and quiet like normal humans. Our lives take place in the never-ending battle. We don't have time to luxuriate in calm moments. And that is the only thing I envy about mundanes.
I began walking up to where the redhead mundie sat, until I saw a blonde girl slip over and began talking to her. She glanced across the room at something before turning back to the blonde with a reply that I couldn't hear. I sidled closer, not wanting to alert the girl of my presence quite yet.
I slipped by just as the blonde scuttled away only to have a brunette boy take her place. He set two coffee cups down on the table in front of them. I dropped into the seat behind the two, watching them with narrowed eyes. I saw that the girl was just about to speak, when a sharp, ringing sound filled the little building. I flinched, wanting to cover my ears. The sound abruptly ended and was replaced with a teenage boy's voice. I rolled my eyes at his introduction, tuning him out to focus on the two mundanes in front of me. They weren't speaking, but staring at the stage with pained expressions as he began his 'poetry'.
Even I grimaced when he began wailing into the microphone.
"Please don't tell anyone I know him," the brunette boy said, looking at the girl beside him.
She giggled and I smirked lightly.
"Who uses the word loins?"
When she smiled, I realized that it lit up her whole face. It was like a little spotlight was shined right on her, demanding everyone's attention. I saw a boy a few tables over look over at her, his eyes wandering from the girl sitting across from him. I scowled at him as his date tried to get his attention.
"Eric. All his poems have loins in them," the boy said with an unattractive grimace.
His glasses made his face look very tiny and scrunched up when his facial expression changed.
"Anyway, about that girl who thinks you're cute-"
"Never mind that for a second," the annoying boy cut in.
I raised a brow. What I wouldn't give to have been there for that conversation. I'm willing to bet that that was what the two girls had been conversing about. Clary blinked at the boy in surprise.
"There's something I wanted to talk to you about."
I narrowed my gaze a little, taking in how the boy fidgeted a little in his seat. He seemed to be sweating a little as well.
"Furious Mole is not a good name for a band."
I blinked, one light eyebrow arching even higher. What the hell?
"Not that," the boy said, "it's about what we were talking about before, about me not having a girlfriend."
I smirked a bit at that. So they weren't dating. But it's pretty clear that he wishes they were.
"Oh. Oh, I don't know. Ask Jaida Jones out. She's nice, and she likes you," she suggested with a shrug.
My smirk morphed into a full blown grin. This girl is clueless. The boy was fidgeting in his seat, clearly uncomfortable. I didn't blame him. You think she would've gotten it by now. Hell, I did and I've never seen him before in my life.
"I don't want to ask Jaida Jones out."
"Why not?" she asked, her expression changing to one of distaste. "You don't like smart girls? Still seeking a rockin' bod?"
Clearly, they had discussed something like this before. I saw the resentment in her features as her face scrunched up a little.
"Neither. I don't want to ask her out because it wouldn't really be fair to her if I did…"
I rolled my eyes. Clearly she wasn't getting the not-so-subtle hints.
The girl leaned a little towards him, and I caught the blonde doing the same and rolled my eyes. There really was no subtlety in this place.
"Why not?"
"Because I like someone else."
I saw her eyebrows scrunch together as she watched her friend. I bit my lip to avoid laughing out loud. This has got to be the funniest thing I've seen in a long time. It was like a sitcom.
"You're not gay, are you?"
I could taste the metallic tang of blood as I tried desperately not to give away my position, my teeth clenched on my lip.
"If I were, I would dress better." I couldn't agree more.
"So who is it then?"
This time, I couldn't hold in my laughter. I coughed loudly to cover it up and I saw the girl freeze before turning around. Her eyes widened as they took me in. I smirked at her as she ran her eyes over me. Her friend took notice of her apparent lapse of interest in their conversation.
"What is it?" He asked, his eyes skimming blankly over me.
The look in her eyes intensified as he stared at her. She didn't turn her attention away from me. I gave her a small wave before standing up and walking casually to the front doors. I let them close behind me and walked out into the empty alley. I leaned back on the grimy brick wall as I waited for her. There was no way her curiosity would allow her to ignore me. I pulled out my sensor and began to tap on some of the symbols engraved in it.
Just like I expected, she burst out through the doors with wide eyes.
"Your friend's poetry is terrible," I commented, before she could even open her mouth, mostly to throw her off.
She blinked at me. "What?"
"I said, his poetry is terrible. It sounds like he ate a dictionary and started vomiting up words at random," I observed.
I could see her fists clench at her sides and her eyes burned in anger. I was honestly a little surprised at her reaction. What did she have to be mad about?
"I don't care about Eric's poetry. I want to know why you're following me," she said angrily.
It clicked then. I may seem to her like I had been stalking her. But really, she showed up to our party. So I only followed her once.
"Who said I was following you?" At this point I knew that I should probably stop goading her on, but it was kind of fun to see her cheeks turn red, almost as red as her fiery hair. Her bright eyes flashed
"Nice try. And you were eavesdropping too. Do you want to tell me what this is about, or should I just call the police?"
"And tell them what? That invisible people are bothering you?" I said sarcastically, looking down at the short girl. "Trust me, little girl, the police aren't going to arrest someone they can't see."
I could see her anger rising. Her jaw was clenched and her fists were shaking slightly.
"I told you before, my name is not little girl, it's Clary," she said between clenched teeth.
"I know," I said. "Pretty name. Like the herb, clary sage. In the old days people thought eating the seeds would let you see the Fair Folk. Did you know that?"
She gave me a deadpan look. "I have no idea what you're talking about."
I wrinkled my nose a little.
"You don't know much, do you? You seem to be a mundane like any other mundane, yet you can see me. It's a conundrum."
"What's a mundane?"
I sighed inwardly. This is going to be a long conversation.
"Someone of the human world. Someone like you," I informed her.
"But you're human," she countered.
"I am, but I'm not like you," I said easily.
She could believe me or not. Either way, she was coming with me back to the institute.
"You think you're better," she accused. "That's why you were laughing at us."
"I was laughing because declarations of love amuse me, especially when unrequited. And because your friend is one of the most mundane mundanes I've ever encountered. And because Hodge thought you might be dangerous, but if you are, you certainly don't know it."
"I'm dangerous?" Clary seemed appalled, her eyebrows shooting up. "I saw you kill someone last night. I saw you drive a knife up under his ribs and-" she cut off abruptly.
My lips pressed together. I may be dangerous, that much is right, but she's acting like I would kill anybody who stepped on the back of my shoes.
"I may be a killer, but I know what I am. Can you say the same?" I snapped.
"I'm an ordinary human being, just like you said. Who's Hodge?" I blinked, amazed at how fast she flipped from one topic to the next.
"My tutor. And I wouldn't be so quick to brand myself as ordinary, if I were you. Let me see your right hand," I demanded, leaning towards here a little.
"My right hand?" I nodded. "If I show you my hand will you leave me alone?" she asked warily.
"Certainly," I lied smoothly, trying to hide my amusement.
She reluctantly held her pale hand out to me. I lightly gripped her hand, flipping it over, searching for the familiar black marks.
"Nothing. You're not left-handed, are you?" I asked, hoping she would say yes.
"No. Why?"
I dropped her hand, shrugging. I bit the inside of my cheek, thinking.
"All Shadowhunter children get marked with the Voyance rune on their right hands-or left, if they're left-handed like I am-when they're young. It's a permanent rune that helps us see the magical world," I explained.
I held my left hand out as an example. I was sure she could see it. She could see me, afterall. There's no reason why she shouldn't be able to see my Marks.
"I don't see anything," she said, her expression quizzical.
"Let your mind relax," I instructed. "Wait for it to come to you. Like waiting for something to rise to the surface of water," I told her.
That had been my technique when I was little and faced with strong glamours.
"You're crazy," she stated.
I didn't deny anything.
She had been staring lazily at my hand for about thirty seconds when she suddenly jumped. She blinked and looked up at me, green eyes wide.
"A tattoo?"
I smiled, dropping my hand to my side. "I thought you could do it. And it's not a tattoo-it's a Mark. They're runes, burned into our skin. Different marks do different things. Some are permanent but the majority vanish when they've been used," I explained.
"That's why your arms aren't all inked up today? Even when I concentrate?"
I smiled, proud of our progress. Maybe I should be a teacher.
Yeah right.
"That's exactly why. I knew you had the Sight, at least. It's nearly full dark. We should go," I said, ready for her imminent refusals.
"We? I thought you said you were going to leave me alone," she protested.
"I lied. Hodge said I have to bring you to the Institute with me. He wants to talk to you."
She seemed surprised.
"Why would he want to talk to me?"
"Because you know about us now," I told her.
"About us?" she repeated.
I realized that she did that a lot. It made her seem somewhat like a parrot.
"You mean people like you. People who believe in demons," she stated.
"People who kill them," I corrected.
"We're called Shadowhunters. At least, that's what we call ourselves. The Downworlders have less complimentary names for us," I said bitterly.
"Downworlders?" There goes that parrot mentality again.
"The Night Children. Warlocks. The fey. The magical folk of this world," I listed.
She shook her head, a doubting look on her face.
"Don't stop there. I suppose there are also, what, mermaids and werewolves and zombies?" She said scornfully.
I fought the urge to smirk. "Of course there are. There are reasons those stories exist. They're based in fact, even if mundanes think they're myth. Shadowhunters have a saying: All the stories are true. Although, to be fair, you mostly find zombies farther south, where voudun priests are," I said.
I switched my weight to my other foot as we stood in the empty alley. I was getting tired of this. It was fun to mess with her but it was losing the thrill.
"What about mummies? Do they only hang around Egypt?"
I scoffed mentally. Mummies weren't part of the Shadow World. Hell, I don't even know where the myth of mummies came from. They were just bodies wrapped in tissue.
"Don't be ridiculous. No one believes in mummies. "
She looked confused.
"They don't?"
"Of course not," I confirmed. "Look, Hodge will explain all this to you when you see him."
The stubborn girl crossed her arms over her chest, her features turning defiant.
"What if I don't want to see him?"
"That's your problem." Not mine. "You can either come willingly or unwillingly." I wished that she would go with me without a fight, but I had orders.
She was going with me either way. Her jaw dropped as she stared at me, her eyes disbelieving.
"Are you threatening to kidnap me?"
I sighed internally. "If you want to look at it that way, yes."
I could see the anger on her face as she opened her mouth to argue.
My ears were saved by a harsh buzzing. She closed her mouth promptly, her face losing some of the scarlet tint.
"Go ahead and answer that if you like," I permitted, knowing it would infuriate her.
The buzzing stopped only to resume again a few seconds later. I was about to offer to answer it for her when she frowned and turned away from me, searching through her bag. When she finally found the device, she placed it to her ear.
"Mom?"
I watched Clary's face as she listened to the other speaker. Her back stiffened as she listened.
"It's all right, Mom. I'm fine," she reassured. "I'm on my way home-"
I was about to contradict her when I saw her face go pale, her eyes widening. It was probably about twenty seconds later when she started to speak again, her voice rising in panic.
"Mom! Mom, are you all right?"
I stepped towards her anxiously. I was only getting half of the conversation but I could only hear a voice from the other end, unable to decipher the words.
"Who's found you? Mom, did you call the police? Did you-" I watched as her face went from pale to completely white, her cheeks losing any color they had previously had.
She had begun to shake slightly, her bright eyes wide with fear and panic.
"Mom! Mom, are you there?" Her voice cut into me like a blade, so full of dread that it hurt.
"Clary, what's going on?" I asked, trying to keep my voice calm for her sake.
She was shaking harder now and she hit the redial button, only to pull it from her ear and hit it again when she received no answer. The thin phone dropped from her fingers and hit the ground. She fell to the ground and picked it up, only to reveal a giant crack in the dark screen. It was somewhat surprising that the phone had broken, given her obvious lack of height.
"Dammit!" she cursed, slamming the device back down to the filthy pavement below.
She was frantic, her eyes gleaming with unshed tears as I grabbed her wrist and pulled her up. "Stop that."
"Has something happened?" I asked, although it was a pretty idiotic question given her reaction to the phone call.
"Give me your phone. I have to-"
"It's not a phone," I cut in when she grabbed my sensor and began to fumble with it. "It's a sensor. You won't be able to use it."
"But I need to call the police!" She cried.
"Tell me what happened first," I demanded, not releasing her wrist when she tugged on it.
"I can help you," I growled.
Before I could move, I felt a sharp stinging across the side of my face. I jerked back as she pulled her hand away. She yanked her wrist free and took off before I could get over the shock of the catty gesture. I had been slapped on several occasions but I have never been clawed by a girl before.
With a huff, I grabbed my stele from my belt and burned on a quick iratze before following in the direction she had taken off in. Seventh Avenue, she had been heading towards. I stormed by oblivious mundanes walking down the sidewalks, intent only on catching Clary. My fists were clenched as I felt the scratches on my face begin to fade. She had scratched me. Even while I knew I should be mad, I couldn't help but feel pleased at the fact that she had managed to get away from me. She's a fighter.
Just as I turned the corner, I saw a flash of red whip around the one across the road. New York traffic had thankfully slowed her down. Without pause, I rushed into the road, jumping easily over the hood of a taxi cab and reaching the sidewalk in record time. I walked quickly down the path, stopping at the corner to look around. I twisted my mouth the side when I saw no sight of her. I was intent on finding her, but I had absolutely no idea where she had disappeared to. I walked to the next corner before blowing air out of my mouth angrily. Where the hell had she gone?
I waited to cross the road this time before walking down the opposite street. I had been wandering for only a few minutes when I heard a scream pierce the air. My head snapped to a house to my left and I looked up it to see windows lit on the second story. I bypassed a witch's store, making a note to check that out later, before rushing up the stairwell and to a door on the second story. It had been left open and I saw scratches along the outside of it.
"That can't be good," I muttered.
I stepped in warily, a blade ready. I didn't know what was in here and I didn't have my sensor to be alerted of demons.
My eyes widened when I took in the destruction that was the building. I stepped warily into the kitchen, my steps silent. I froze in the doorway, my breathing halting momentarily as I took in the scene laid out before me like something straight out of a horror movie. My eyes were instantly drawn to the dying creatures on the floor.
I saw a Ravener demon, its jaws agape with black fluid dripping from its rotting teeth. I could see a hint of a familiar shape jammed in its throat. My sensor. I watched, stunned as it began to fold in on itself until it disappeared completely. After it was gone, all that lay on the floor was Clary, sprawled out face down on the tiles. Her face was turned away from me, her fiery hair spread out around her head. I observed numbly that the unique color of her hair hid any wounds to her skull, camouflaging any blood.
I saw the wound on the back of her neck where the Ravener must have stung her. It was turning black, the fatal poison being carried into her bloodstream. Finally, I snapped out of my frozen stupor, wanting to kick myself. Since when did I freeze up like that?
"Clary?" I called, not really expecting the unconscious girl to awaken.
I wasn't surprised when she stayed perfectly still. I pressed two fingers firmly against the veins on her wrist, feeling relief wash over me when I felt her weak pulse. I stood up and reluctantly left her side, taking one more look around the small home before rushing back to her side. I didn't want any surprises when I wouldn't be able to reach a weapon. I slid the knife I had been holding back into the cuff on wrist and gently flipped her over, causing her head to loll to the side like a doll. Her face was paler than it had been before and she seemed so much weaker, more fragile now. Her eyelashes were dark half-moons set in her freckled cheeks. They weren't full or long like Isabelle's, but they still cast a shadow that made her look more innocent than she had the only other times I had ever seen her.
I slid my arms under her and lifted her smoothly off the ground. I got to my feet, holding her securely against me. I turned, watching my surroundings warily while I started out the door. I jogged quickly down the stairs, trying my best not to jostle the injured girl in my arms too much.
I ran into no other living creatures as I made my way outside. I heard police sirens becoming louder by the second and cursed quietly before jogging carefully around to the back of the building. When I was out of sight of the street, I set Clary down gently on the damp grass. I peered around the side of the building, making sure nobody had seen us before kneeling down beside the dying girl.
I pulled out some bandages I had placed in my belt and began tearing it into strips, ready to place them over the wound on her neck. It must have stung her after she shoved my sensor down its throat. I felt a burst of misplaced pride at the thought that she had killed the thing without an ounce of training. I had no reason to be proud of the girl, but I did regardless.
I heard the sirens wail louder and louder, piercing my ears with their high pitch. I saw the telltale flashing red and blue lights appear and grimaced. I heard a sound like choking and looked down to see that Clary had opened her eyes, looking up at the stars with confusion etched into her pale features.
"Don't move," I warned her sternly.
From the corner of my eye, I saw her turn her head to the side and wince at the pain. I resisted the urge to snap at her. I saw some nosy neighbors already gathering as two police officers stepped out of the car they had parked on the side of the road. I saw Clary catch sight of the blue-clad officials and she tried to lift herself up, only to gag and fall back. I saw her fingers sink into the damp earth below her. Her hands were small, the skin smooth, her nails squared off. Her hands were the hands of an artist, not the hands of a warrior like mine.
"I told you not to move," I chastised snappily. "That Ravener demon got you in the back of the neck. It was half-dead so it wasn't much of a sting, but we have to get you to the Institute. Hold still," I warned again.
"That thing-the monster-it talked," she babbled, her body shaking.
"You've heard a demon talk before," I said calmly.
I took the strip of cloth I had covered with salve and tied it around her neck. The salve would help draw the poison out of her system, although she would still definitely need more treatment. I felt her shuddering when I tied the makeshift bandage up.
"The demon in Pandemonium," she began. "It looked like a person." I could almost hear her silent-this one didn't.
"It was an Eidolon demon. A shape-changer," I said, feeling like a teacher once again.
Even in the midst of her dying, she still continued to be plagued by curiosity. Then again, she probably didn't know she would die without help. She continued to shake and it made it hard to get the knot tied.
"Raveners look like they look. Not very attractive, but they're too stupid to care," I finished.
"It said it was going to eat me," she said with another shake.
"But it didn't," I soother her. "You killed it." Is that soothing to a mundie?
It would be to me if I was injured. To know that at least the thing I had been fighting was dead. But she's so different from Shadowhunters. I thankfully finished the knot and I saw the relief in her eyes when the pain began to dissipate. She forced herself up into an upright position and I resisted the urge to help her.
"The police are here. We should-"
"There's nothing they can do," I cut her off.
What is with mundies and the trust they put in officials?
"Somebody probably heard you screaming and reported it. Ten to one those aren't real police officers. Demons have a way of hiding their tracks," I told her, looking up to make sure nobody had wandered back here.
Although they probably wouldn't see me, the sight of a sick girl sitting alone, talking to nobody would probably warrant some concern from the neighbors. But hell, this was New York City. Maybe nobody would find it odd at all.
"My mom," she said suddenly.
I shook my head, understanding what she wanted. There was no time to look for her. There was no time for anything really. I had wasted enough time. I needed to get her back to the Institute where Hodge could help her.
"There's Ravener poison coursing through your veins right now," I said urgently. "You'll be dead in an hour if you don't come with me." I stood up, leaving her no option to argue.
I offered her a hand, looking down at her and hoping she would take it. A few seconds later she placed her small hand in mine. Her skin was soft and smooth against my rough skin. I pulled her up quickly, watching warily as she tilted unsteadily on her feet. "Come on."
I placed my hand on her back when she began to tip to the side. I smelt her hair as she leaned a little against me. She smelled like a mixture of strawberries and blood now, although I assumed that she didn't usually smell like blood.
"Can you walk?"
"I think so," she replied, looking around our surroundings.
She watched the police officer walking up the path towards her front door. She was wearing the glamour of a pretty young blonde, but I could see the skeletal face underneath. A Du'sien demon. She held a flashlight, although I knew it was just for appearances. Du'sien demons had perfect night vision, just like most species of demons.
"Her hand-" Clary gasped, drawing my attention.
"I told you they might be demons. We have to get out of here. Can we go through the alley?" I asked, looking around for a way out that wouldn't cause a run in with neighbors or fake police officers.
Clary shook her head in response. "It's bricked up. There's no way-" she cut herself off abruptly as she began to cough, loud enough that I was worried she would draw attention.
I grimaced, knowing that it wasn't a good sign. I saw her pull her hand from her mouth and heard her whine weakly. I saw the dark liquid that was on her hand when she dropped it and understood why she had whimpered. I was running out of time. I needed to buy myself some time to get her to the Institute.
I grabbed her wrist and flipped it so that her palm faced the stars. I saw her legs began to give out and made a quick decision. She could see me. What were the odds that she was just a simple mundie? Especially after she killed a demon without any training.
No, she can't be just a mundie. She had to have Shadowhunter blood. I didn't let her pull her arm away. She had no choice. Either she let me put a mark on her or she died. And since she didn't understand that, I would make the choice for her. I just hoped to the angel that I wasn't wrong. I let go of her arm and she pulled it away, looking down at the mark I had placed on her arm.
"What's that supposed to do?" She asked weakly.
"It'll hide you," I responded. "Temporarily."
I slipped my stele back into my belt and noticed her watching me curiously.
"My stele," I told her.
To my surprise, she didn't ask me what a stele did or what it was, or what it was made of, or how much it cost. I had expected at least one question, but she seemed disoriented. I saw her stumble and reached out to steady her.
"Jace," she whispered, before she fell limply into my arms.
My name on her lips made my heart pound harder in my chest. I could see that she was still conscious, although not totally aware. I sighed.
"I've already broken the covenant once tonight, why not twice?"
I hope you liked this chapter :)
So, I have a question. I have chapter one of City of Ashes from Jace's point of view written. Would anybody read it if I posted it?
If you want me to write the CoA from his POV let e know in a review.