AN: Thanks to my experience with the other story, I think I've finally settled into a fairly consistent pattern with the chapter lengths. So, the chapters should always be about 1.7K to 2K words. This chapter had a very rough edit, so there may be some mistakes. If anyone spots a mistake let me know and I'll try to fix it.

I'm posting this way earlier than I would have normally, because I hate finding a story to read and only getting a prologue to feel it out and see if I want to keep reading.

Disclaimer: I do not own anything associated with the Mortal Instruments, I just love the stories and can't seem to let the characters go!

Remember this is a shadowhunter story and a little darker.

Chapter 1:

That night Luke and Clary sat with her mother's body for what felt like an eternity, then Luke gently laid a hand on Clary's shoulder and spoke softly so as not to break the solemn mood that had taken over. "Clary, I know you have a lot of questions about what happened and the things you saw, and I promise you I will answer every question you have and then some. But, right now we have to leave. We don't have much time before someone else will show up. It could be the police or more demons, either way we can't be here when they show up." Clary jerked slightly under his grasp when Luke said the word demons.

When he finished his last sentence Clary realized he meant to leave her mother there and flee. She couldn't do that, not to her mother, not when her mother had died protecting her from monsters. "Luke, I can't leave her like this, we have to make sure that she's taken care of. She has to be…" She couldn't say the word, buried, it just seemed to final; even though she saw her mother take her last breath and go completely still. Her brain still could not process that information yet, and she certainly couldn't say the word.

Luke looked almost as broken as Clary and he held so much sympathy and compassion in his blue eyes as he looked from Clary, his chosen daughter, to Jocelyn the love of his life. He knew that he had to get Clary to safety and he knew he didn't have much time, but he also knew that Clary was right. They couldn't just leave Jocelyn there to be taken by mundanes. They wouldn't know the first thing about how to properly bury a shadowhunter, and look couldn't stand the thought that she would be laid to rest in an unmarked grave in a state funeral, a paupers field. So, he simply nodded his head and helped Clary stand.

He pulled the young girl into a hug and held her there for a moment. When he pulled away enough to look in her eyes, he saw the broken heart and the anguished spirit and knew that he would have a long and difficult task ahead of him. Trying to heal her and bring back that beautiful loving soul he had always known his daughter to be. He carefully pulled her away and softly told her what they had to do stressing the urgency as much as he could in that soft voice, "Clary you're absolutely right. I'm sorry for not realizing that on my own. You go, now, and grab only the things that you cannot replace or that you will need for tonight or tomorrow. And I do mean, need. We can only stay here for a few more minutes so hurry. Go, I'll take your mother down and then we will leave, all of us."

Clary gave a shaky nod and staggered off to her room. Through her teary haze she heard look pulling the white sheets off her mother's bed and walk back into the living room to collect her mother's body. That thought made her shake with new sobs that she tried desperately to suppress. She grabbed the few small photo albums she had in her room and stuffed them into her old canvas duffle Luke had given her on one of their many camping trips. Then she pulled down all of the pictures her mother had drawn or painted she knew would fit in the bag. She moved on to her own journal sketch book and then finally she grabbed a few random pieces of clothing. She made sure to grab all of the smaller gifts her mother had given her over the years and swept them into the duffle too. When she felt like she had gotten all of the things she couldn't replace she crossed the hall into what was her mother's room.

There she froze in the door, she didn't know how to walk into that room and then turn around and leave. Everything in this room looked and smelled of her mother, and all she wanted to do was crawl into that bed surrounded by her mother's things and never leave, but she knew she couldn't. So, she galvanized her nerves and stiffened her spine and stepped over that threshold. She went to the vanity first and grabbed all of her mother's antique jewelry that had been handed down in their family for generations. Then she grabbed her mother's favorite pajamas, and all of the sketches and paintings she could find and fit in her duffle. When the bag was overflowing, she turned for the door, then she remember the box.

It looked like it was handmade and pretty old, to Clary, and she knew that it was significant, she just didn't know why. So, she laid on the floor on her stomach and edged under her mother's bed. She could just barely touch the box, so she pushed herself further under the bed until she could wrap her hand around the top of the box and drag it out from its hiding place. As she sat back up with the box cradled against her chest Luke appeared in the doorway. He stepped forward and leaned down to grab the duffle and then helped Clary to her feet. "Are you ready to leave Clary? I know how hard this is for you, feeling like you've lost everything, but you haven't lost me. And I promise you, you never will. I'll do whatever I have to do to make sure that you always have a parent. I love you sweetheart, and you will be safe, I promise."

Clary looked into Luke's determined and loving eyes and just threw herself into his arms. She had cried so much that her eyes were nearly swollen shut and she couldn't talk properly for the hiccups that were constantly shaking her tiny frame, but she knew she didn't really need to say much. "I love you, dad." It was the first time she'd called him that, but she'd always felt it in her heart.

Luke gasped and held her tighter to him, and he knew that he had to keep his promise. His daughter would be safe, no matter what he had to do. He also knew that, to keep his promise he was going to have to tarnish some of her memories about her mother. He absolutely hated that he was going to have to take one final thing from her, but there was no longer a choice to keep her in the dark about her true nature and where she came from. Truthfully he had never wanted to, but Jocelyn wouldn't move on the subject, she'd even gone so far as to threaten him if he ever told Clary anything, he wouldn't be allowed to see her again. Now he had to shatter her reality and rewrite it so that she would know the dangerous truth of their world.

AN: Not really pertinent, but damn I wish they would get a regular spell check on this site! Ugh, anybody whose ever posted a story knows what I mean. Then again I imagine some readers think the same thing when they see some of my typos. LOL :)