A/N: Huge thanks to all you awesome people who have followed, favorited and commented it means so much:) Thanks also to TheEternalDaylightingRanger for being a wonderful Beta:)
Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters Cassie Clare does. I only own the plot.
The sun cast flickering shadows throughout Central Park, contrasting the warm light filling this part of New York. Clary waited nervously, bouncing on her metatarsals as she strained to see a white-blonde head throughout the mostly-empty park. 8:59 read Clary's phone, changing to 9:00 just as her eyes scanned the number.
"Boo." Clary whipped around to face a pair of dark eyes. Stepping back in irritancy, Clary glared.
"Hello to you too."
Jonathan grinned, extending a hand to the redhead in front of him. Refusing defiantly, Jonathan shrugged the small rejection off, motioning for Clary to follow as he turned and walked down the street.
"Where are you going?" Clary half-jogged to keep up with the boy's long stride.
"We are going to my apartment. After that, you'll just have to trust me." Clary snorted at the second half of his phrase, but followed Jonathan into a cab.
The two of them sat in silence, Clary wound up so tight with nerves she felt as though she would explode, Jonathan lounging nonchalantly. Staring out the cab's window, Clary watched normalities blur past her eyes: Two girls laughing with shopping bags crammed in their hands, a couple mooning at each other, crow flying in the sky, someone on a black motorcycle behind the cab. I feel as though I've seen that motorcycle before. The redhead shook it off. Probably saw it in an ad.
"Helloooo?" Jonathan snapped his fingers in front of Clary's face. Batting his hands away, Clary glared once more, but Jonathan smiled, unfazed. "I'm growing on you aren't I?"
At their destination, the cab stopped, the two Shadowhunters left, Jonathan paying the driver without a tip. The two were in and out of the building within 10 minutes, Jonathan stopping only to pick up a small leather-bound box, sparking Clary's curiosity.
Back in a cab, Clary peered curiously over at the object Jonathan was fiddling with. Catching her eye, he smirked.
"Would you like to know what's in here?" Clary simply glared. "Whenever you're done with your temper tantrum, little sister, I'll tell you. Maybe."
Clary resumed, frowning out the window.
"Here we are." Jonathan and Clary stood in front of a typical New York house. It was nothing special...though the blonde beside her announced it as if they were on the steps of a palace. The exact same blonde who had just disappeared into the house. Clary hurried up the stairs and through the door.
Inside, the house-apartment?-was modern and expensive-looking. Geez, how rich is this guy? Clary wondered, observing a huge flat screen TV and winding staircase constructed of flawless glass.
"Not at all actually, the other apartment wasn't mine and Valentine built and furnished this house." Jonathan walked around a corner of the house, offering Clary a glass of sparkling mineral water.
"You said it out loud." Jonathan replied to Clary's stupefied look.
Then he gestured to a dark wood door down a nearby hall. "You're room."
Clary nodded, then accepted the offered beverage with wariness, which earned a small laugh from Jonathan. Tentatively sipping the surprisingly good drink, Clary had the feeling that something was missing. Not something, someone.
"Where's Valentine?"
"Out."
"Where?"
"With Jocelyn." Jonathan's mouth soured at their mother's name.
"Where is she? You said you would let me see her if I agreed to train with you." Clary tried to ignore Jonathan's previous expression.
Sliding a phone from his pocket, Jonathan clicked in a password then turned the phone in his hands so Clary could see the screen. A small gasp escaped the petite girl's lips as she saw a picture of her mother lying in a large bed, seemingly asleep and still wearing her clothes from when Clary had last seen her.
"Now you've seen her. Just as promised." Jonathan stared at his sister with cold eyes.
Clary balled her fists, anger and despair welling up in her chest. "No! You promised!" A small voice in Clary's head reprimanded her for losing her temper.
The fuming redhead continued with a deadly calm voice. "I don't care if you're a filthy scumbag liar. You told me I would see her. I left everyone behind, did just as you told me." Clary's voice rose higher and higher. "I don't care if blood ties us, you are the dirtiest bastard I have ever met!"
Jonathan's fathomless eyes darkened and genuine hurt flashed in them for a brief moment. "'To love is to destroy, Bir-"
"Shut up." Clary spoke flatly. Jonathan scowled as Clary stormed into her given room.
After pacing around her 'prison' for a good twenty minutes, Clary's anger wore off into a hollow feeling. Slouching on the large bed, the redhead fought off a burning sensation in her throat and eyes, nails pressing painfully into her palms. After punching a puffy pillow limp, she fell back again, drained of energy and emotion.
Clary's thoughts drifted back to the strange box Jonathan had brought with him. He said that the apartment wasn't his, so whoes was it? And why did they have that box? What's even inside it? Thoughts swarmed like angry bees around the girl's head, demanding questions she couldn't find the answer to.
Without enough energy to feel frustrated, Clary rolled off the bed, placing her feet on the cold stone floor and surveyed the room. The walls were windowless, white plaster, the only source of light a black, glass light fixture overhead. A second door lead to a glass-and-chrome bathroom.
Head pounding, Clary shed her clothes and stepped into the shower. Hot water sent steam rising all around the girl's petite frame, temporarily washing her troubles away. After the long shower, Clary dried and wrapped herself in a fluffy white towel, venturing out of the warm bathroom and into her cold room.
Locating a dresser, Clary approached to see what lay within the black wooden drawers. Although her duffel bag lay scrunched against the leg of a leather chair, Clary was curious. Inside the drawers, Clary discovered a multitude of expensive-looking clothes. All folded nicely, brand-new with all the tags still attached. Clary realized that all the garment were colors that complemented her as a redhead, everything cut for a slim frame as well.
Jonathan said Valentine built this house. I wonder...Was this him and mom's house? She said that Valentine had wanted her to move in with him, she even did for a month or two. But then why would these clothes be unworn? Questions started to attack Clary again, so she decided to leave it.
Unzipping her duffel bag, Clary found only her art supplies, brush and toiletries left. Her clothes, weapons and money were gone. A note lay in the bottom.
Little sis,
There are clothes in the dresser. I will supply you with weapons when we train and you don't need money, everything will be taken care of. As for your phone, good luck getting reception. You will get all of your possessions back when we trust you. Birdy, if I was running the show, you'd get to see Jocelyn sooner. But remember, everybody has secrets, even her.
-Sebastian (Don't call me Jonathan, I'll explain later.)
Clary grabbed her phone from the bathroom, thankfully she had brought it in to listen to music, and check. No reception. Slightly disturbed that Jonathan-Why did he call himself Sebastian anyways?- had come into her room while she was showering, Clary wondered if she could install a lock. Although she wasn't to upset about losing her clothes or money, without weapons or reception, she was beginning to feel like a true prisoner.
Brushing her tangled hair out, Clary tried once again to fathom the mystery that was her brother. Yes, by now the Shadowhunter girl had accepted that Jonathan Morgenstern was her blood brother. But nothing more.
An aroma of cooking meat and spices wafted under Clary's door and filled her nose. Stomach grumbling, Clary realized just how hungry she was. Her last meal had been an apple as she was packing, which technically didn't count as a meal. Sitting stubbornly in front of the vanity mirror, Clary's stomach protested. Sighing, the girl stood up and walked to the door.
Then she turned back. Hand in phone, she tried her best to ignore the delicious smell as she paced around the room searching for reception. If I could just send one quick text to Simon… Guilt burned in Clary's chest as she recounted her speedy exit from her best friend's house. I shouldn't have been so abrupt. No matter what had happened, she and Simon had stuck together.
Giving up on reception, Clary slumped into a leather chair. Why am I being so sulky? This is not me. Clary chided herself. Resolve settling in her gut, Clary pulled her hair into a ponytail, swiping on a coat of mascara. Ruffling throughout the draws, Clary finally found the only black shirt: A tight-fitting tank with a layer of slinky black fabric around the collar. Frowning at the neckline, Clary donned the shirt.
Feeling more confident, Clary looked over herself in the mirror. Shadowhunter pants, a black top and leather jacket, high-heeled black boots. Izzy would be proud. But you will never look as beautiful as Izzy with her long legs and beautiful blue eyes. A small voice sneered at Clary. Shaking her head Clary clenched her fists. It didn't matter that her legs were short, or that she was such a new Shadowhunter. She would train with Jonathan, free her mother, and go back to her life.
What about Jace? a small voice asked. Clary smiled at the thought of the blonde Shadowhunter. She could stand one new person to remain in her life. And Izzy. Whatever happened next, Clary would love to stay at the New York Institute with everyone there-especially a certain blonde. Just with her mother and Simon. No other complications.
Slipping her phone into the pocket of a leather jacket she had found, Clary twisted the doorknob. What little of the aroma had seeped under Clary's bedroom door was now overwhelming. Clary's mouth watered and her stomach grumbled with anticipation. Walking down the hall, Clary took a deep breath and turned the corner.
In the kitchen, Jonathan-Sebastian, whatever he wanted to be called-was bringing out the last of a mouthwatering dinner and setting the plate on a glass coffee table standing in between a leather couch, seats and the huge flat-screen Clary had seen earlier.
What made Clary almost choke in surprise were the two people sitting on the couch. Two blonde heads turned to face her. One was a blonde girl. Gorgeous with pale, flawless skin and big blue eyes enhanced by makeup. She was exactly the opposite of Clary, right down to her barely-there purple dress. Although she was flawless, Clary immediately saw the cruelty in her eyes, something was off about her entirely.
The second person ground up all of Clary's belief in who Shadowhunter's were and threw them in the garbage. Golden everything. Someone who she had trusted, however short the period of time she had known him.
"Clary!" Jonathan smiled. "Let me introduce you to my two closest friends: Kaelie and Jace."
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-Elle