AN: Here's the next chapter in my story. Enjoy!
Disclaimer: I own nothing MI related. Just havin' some fun.
Clary slowly regained consciousness as points of light stabbed through the disorienting haze that enveloped her. For a reason Clary couldn't understand, she was only able to open one eye, and just barely. Something hard and cold pressed against her cheek. She realized she was lying on the ground when she focused in on a pair of scuffed black boots. Her body was still recovering from whatever he had given her, so she didn't possess the motor skills to defend herself when the boot lifted and connected hard with her ribcage.
Clary screamed out in pain but the only sound that escaped was her breathless sobs. Her kidnapper had done something to her so that she couldn't speak. And he had taken her somewhere no one would hear her calls for help. She cradled her ribs and shielded her face.
"Get up." His evil voice ordered. "I don't have time for this." She whimpered and curled in on herself when she felt him mark her neck with a rune. The burn in her throat receded but the rest of her remained damaged and broken.
"There. Now you can talk. But only when I ask you a question," he amended. Clary sucked in a breath to scream but was stopped short when his hand rocketed across her face, causing her to momentarily see red. All she wanted to do was cry out and soothe her face, but she couldn't. She was helpless.
He grabbed her chin and forced her to look at him. "I dare you to try it again." She shook her head, cowering away from the hateful look in his eyes. "Thought so."
He turned away from her and began polishing what looked like a knife. Clary felt a wave of nausea. "Please?" Her raspy voice trembled, tears flowing across her eyes and pooling on the dust covered ground. "Please," she begged. "Let me go? I don't have what you're looking for." She tried to move her hands but they were bound together at her wrists.
"Oh but you do, don't you see? You are what I'm looking for, Clarissa, nothing less nothing more. Your blood is that of the Angels, as mine is that of demons. What I need lies within you." He turned to face her and his eyes took on a predatory glint. "And then I'll be unstoppable. And when that happens, the first person I'm coming after is your precious Shadowhunter." He threw the towel to the side and examined his weapon. "Ready or not, Clarissa…" The last sounds she heard were the scuffle of his boots and her own ear-piercing scream.
Clary bolted upright in bed, scrambling to press her back up against the large wooden headboard. She quickly looked from corner to corner, searching the room for any signs of the boy from her nightmare. His evil eyes haunted her, even now. To her utter relief the only thing out of place was a folded piece of paper that someone had slid underneath her door.
She relaxed back into the bed, allowing her aching muscles to distract her. Clary and Isabelle's one-hour training session turned into three when the girls lost track of time. Caught up in the details of Isabelle's battle stories, Clary couldn't help but find it all fascinating. And at some point during their time together, Clary realized that she was actually having fun. She'd been so careful to keep her new life at arms length, but she couldn't help but enjoy herself with her new mentor. Isabelle was carefree and dangerous; two things Clary was not. But learning to incapacitate a fully-grown man had certainly helped nudge her in that direction.
With a new sense of clarity, Clary climbed out of bed and retrieved the mysterious piece of paper.
Please meet me in the library at eight-thirty. We will have a history lesson. Hodge.
Clary showered quickly, wanting to catch a quick breakfast before her lesson with Hodge. She slipped on a pair of black- denim skinny-jeans and a slightly loose-fitting Lawn Chair Crisis t-shirt - in support of Simon's most recent band name-, and made her way toward the kitchen.
After several wrong turns and many minutes later Clary finally found the corridor she had been searching for. She opened the kitchen's swinging door and nearly tripped over herself when she saw what she had walked in on. Jace was leaning lazily against the counter, while the Asian girl – who Clary had learned was the infamous Aline – faced him, her hands gripping the counter's edge on either side of his waist. She was whispering something in his ear while he listened with mild interest. Clary contemplated turning around but the grumble in her stomach convinced her otherwise. For a moment she watched the intimate scene while a small spark of jealousy burned in her stomach. Sometimes she wished she could be more like that - confident and sexy. But if confident and sexy also meant shallow and bitchy, as Aline so graciously demonstrated for Clary yesterday, she'd gladly pass.
Clary cleared her throat causing Aline to pounce away from Jace like he was on fire. When she caught sight of Clary her eyes narrowed like a serpent. Clary shrugged her shoulders apologetically, but didn't dare remove the headphones from her ears for fear of awkward conversation. And for a reason she didn't understand Clary couldn't look at Jace. Instead she busied herself with the fridge, rummaging through the fruit drawer. Just famished enough to pretend to ignore the intimate scene that was taking place behind her, and hoping they would decide to take it elsewhere.
Her thoughts were answered when she heard the door swing shut a few moments later. She removed her headphones and slung them around her neck.
"Sorry about that."
Clary whirled around, startled by the unexpected voice. Jace was relaxing in a barstool, hands clasped loosely behind his head. Her rapidly beating heartbeat quickened as his golden eyes watched her with amused interest.
"You going to slice me?" He asked, taking in Clary's defensive, knife-wielding stance. "I wouldn't blame you. I've been told I taste good."
Fighting a smile she rolled her eyes at his narcissism. "I'm not sure teachers are supposed to speak like that in front of their students," she pointed out. "But then again, you don't strike me as the kind of person who follows many rules."
"That would be a smart assumption," he said, seeming satisfied.
Without meaning to, Clary's eyes began to wander over the faint white runes that tattooed his arms. They seemed to cast a faint metallic glow in the fluorescent lighting of the kitchen. She'd caught glimpses of her mothers but they were very faint and dull, nothing like what she was looking upon now.
Jace cleared his throat, outwardly delighted by her interest.
"Well sorry about that." She stammered, feeling her skin heat in embarrassment. "Never know when the next foul smelling demon is going to come looking for me."
"I assure you they already are. But I'll protect you."
Clary's stomach did a flip. Not because of the looming threat of more demon attacks, but something else entirely. No one had ever said anything like that to her before. Not a boy at least, and not with such confidence. She reminded herself that this was Jace - the same boy that just yesterday was making goo-goo eyes at the thought of training Aline.
"In between your make out sessions, right?"
He lifted an eyebrow. "Jealous?"
"Please. Jealous of a girl who voluntarily wears fake lashes and stalks around this place in heels? You're barking up the wrong tree."
He smiled at that. "Well that's too bad because most girls tend to find me rather charming."
"Most girls choose to forget they have a brain," she pointed out. Although she's not sure she could blame them when it came to Jace.
"But not you."
"I don't beg for attention, no."
This seemed to intrigue him. "Good," he said. "I like that about you. By the way, what's a Lawn Chair Crisis?"
She glanced down her shirt. "It's not a mental plight that takes place in a lawn chair, if that's what you're wondering. Lawn Chair Crisis is the name of Simon's band."
Something flashed across his eyes, but was gone as quick as it had come. "Current name," she corrected. "It changes all the time."
Jace looked as if he was preparing for something unpleasant. He seemed uneasy. "Is Simon your boyfriend?"
A million questions suddenly raced through Clary's mind. What if Jace finds out that I told Simon about all of this? What if he goes after him? What if he already knows and he's asking to see if I'll tell him the truth? She knew what these people were capable of and how much they wanted their world to go on unnoticed. "Why do you ask?"
"Just wondering if you were already promised to someone else?"
Oh. That's not at all what Clary had expected him to say.
She took a moment to study Jace and all his self-assured glory. It was difficult to ignore the tempting blend of vulnerability and flirtation his eyes held. And the way he seemed to be looking right through her, to the person she really was: a girl whose identity was stolen and has been struggling to get it back ever since. But as much as she'd like to believe he was sincere she couldn't. He was a boy that was a flirt, and she was an easy target.
"That's none of your business." Her words came out with more force than intended, but she didn't stop. "I don't ask questions about you and Aline. Who, by the way, probably wouldn't appreciate the way you're talking to me."
"There is no me and Aline. And you didn't answer my question."
Clary blinked, confused. "That's not what it looked like when I walked in here. And what question?"
"It wasn't what it looked like," he said every word carefully. "And…is Simon your boyfriend?" His eyes held hers like magnets.
"No. Simon isn't my boyfriend. I don't have a boyfriend." Jace smiled like he'd just won something. "And why are you so interested?"
He shrugged, his playful grin returning. "Just want to know if I have to watch my back. Heaven forbid you break some poor mundanes heart when you go falling in love with me." He grabbed an apple from the counter and took a big bite. Speaking over a mouthful of green fruit, he added, "It wouldn't be the first time." He swallowed. "I'm a lady-killer. And sometimes pixies." He considered something. "But never any vampires. I am NOT on the menu, and never will be." He pretended to shudder.
Clary narrowed her eyes at him, not sure what on earth he was talking about, but fairly certain that he was making fun of her. "You're an asshat," she said, gathering her things. "And I have somewhere to be." She shoved her headphones in and pretended to ignore Jace, who sat back and watched her. Without another glance at him, Clary turned on her heels and headed toward the library.
…b.r.e.a.k…..
Curled up on one of the library's loveseats, Clary typed a quick message to Simon: just wanted to say hi. you're a great friend. call you when I can. love u! She turned back to the book: High Warlock, Creating and casting, and scanned the Index for anything having to do with memory loss. Out of all of the things Clary has been told and will learn, finding out that she's been robbed of a majority of her memories is what killed her the most. What had she missed? What had she not seen when it was standing right in front of her? How different would her life have been if she had grown up in this world? These were all questions Clary asked herself on a daily basis. And the one reason Clary couldn't fully forgiver her mother and Luke.
The door to the library opened revealing a morning fresh Hodge. "Good Morning, Clary. I trust you've found some interesting reading material?"
"It's going to take me a lifetime to run out of stuff to learn about in this library." That thought excited Clary. "And good morning."
Hodge gestured toward a large table and chairs. "Please. Have a seat."
Clary sat, eagerly awaiting the start of her lesson, while Hodge sifted through a drawer of scrolls. "Ah hah, here we are," he announced, returning with a long scroll with worn edges. "Let's begin, shall we?" He unrolled the heavy paper revealing a beautifully hand painted map. At the top center, painted in dark green ink, was the word: Idris.
"This is where your heritage lies - where our heritage lies. This is where it all started." Clary's eyes devoured the map, taking in as much detail as possible. "It is located between the countries of Germany and France. Also popularly referred to as the City of Glass."
"City of Glass," she whispered, wide-eyes taking in places with names like: Lake Lyn, Alicante, and the Accords Hall. "But there's nothing between Germany and France? How is that possible?"
"In time you'll come to find that in this world, the possibilities are endless." For some reason he sounded a little saddened by this fact. "We hail from Alicante, the Capitol of Idris. It is home to the Glass Towers as well as some of the finest Shadowhunter's I know."
"Is that where my mother and Valentine are from?" She didn't look up. She wasn't sure how Hodge would react to her prying for information on her past.
"It is indeed." He spoke thoughtfully, as if lost in a memory. "Valentine and your mother had a home in Alicante. A large white mansion atop a knoll."
The thought made Clary feel sick. To think that her mother had lived a completely different life with a man that Clary had never met made her feel queasy. No wanting to discourage Hodge from continuing, she swallowed her pride. "Is it only Shadowhunters that live in Idris?"
"Correct. Downworlder's and demons are forbidden to enter Idris. They cannot in fact. The wards create invisible barriers around the country."
"What about other threats?" She asked, finally looking up at him. "The kinds that aren't foreign?" Hodge knew exactly to whom she was referring. "What happens if he decides to go back? How would anyone know?"
"That is an excellent question, and one not so easily answered. Unfortunately they haven't had much luck with tracking spells, or anything of the sort. Valentine could very well be in Idris as we speak. He is cunning and brilliant, and that is a dangerous combination."
She couldn't imagine that this man was her father. She wondered if they had even one thing in common, however small it might be. "Can you tell me about him?"
"I was planning on telling you differently," he said. "But I don't blame you for seeking the truth. I would want nothing less if I found myself in such a precarious situation as you." He sat down across from Clary and clasped his hands in his lap. "Where to begin? " he pondered, looking at Clary.
"Recently peace negotiations took place between Nephilim and Downworlders. The end result is the Accords. In short, The Accords resemble a common peace between our kind and theirs; an understanding that will stay true as long both sides obey the laws of the Covenant. It wasn't always like this. For centuries we were at war not only with Downworlder's and those alike, we were at war amongst each other. Valentine is the father of that War."
"How? What did he do?"
"He formed The Circle. Your mother was one of its first members." Clary struggled with the thought, trying to find her mothers place amongst all of this. "Remember, this was a time when people looked up to Valentine. It was smart and strategic to be on his side. We truly believed we were fighting for a greater cause. We were banding for a common goal. "
"What was The Circle trying to accomplish?" She asked skeptically.
"We wanted to assume power from the Clave and banish the Accords. We didn't want peace with the Downworlders any longer; we wanted to be rid of them. We were greedy."
"When you say 'assume power'?' Clary was afraid that she knew exactly what Hodge meant by that.
"What I'm telling you is that we were planning on killing them in order to take a position of higher power. We knew that they wouldn't go down without a fight, but we were prepared to do what was needed."
"No." Clary shook her head vehemently. "My mother wouldn't do that. She wouldn't belong to something like this. She wouldn't kill out of greed!"
"You're mother belonged when Valentine was leading with a rational state of mind. She left when his views turned extreme, along with Lucian Graymark. He was the first to go. Those of us who remained loyal to him were abandoned, left at the mercy of the Clave. By that time Valentine had already faked his own death, leading us all to believe he burned in the manor fire, never to be heard from again. Until now."
"And you think he's the one sending the demons after me and my mother, don't you?" Clary was suddenly assaulted with the image of the demon lurching for her, black goop dripping from it's razor sharp teeth. "Will she be safe in Idris?"
"Rest assured." Hodge patted her hand. "She will be safer there than anywhere else."
"What do you think he wants with us?"
"That remains to be seen. We're limited in what we know. Hopefully your mother has some useful information for them." Hodges brow furrowed and he hesitated, thinking hard over something. "Clary…" His change in tone made Clary's heart skip. "There's something you should know?"
"Tell me." She said quickly. "Whatever it is I can handle it."
"Very well," he agreed. "From what I can tell your mother has not informed you of one very large detail." Clary stiffened in her chair. "The Clave has instructed me to tell y-"
"Just tell me, Hodge."
"Your mother and Valentine had another child, Clary, a son. His name was Jonathan Morgenstern. He was your brother. Were he still with us he would have been a couple of years older than you." Clary blinked, confused, because for some reason Hodge looked deadly serious.
"You're kidding," she half-laughed. But Hodge's expression held firm. "Right?"
"I'm afraid not." He said the words like an apology. "He died when he was a little boy."
Clary fell silent, examining Hodge's unwavering expression. "No," she said defiantly. "My mother would have told me that." She thought back on how much her mother had hidden from her – and entire world. But this was different. She couldn't have. Clary looked at Hodge; her eyes wet with unshed tears. "She would have told me that, right?"
He didn't answer.
"How did it happen?" She asked.
"Valentine's manor caught on fire while your brother was inside. It happened the night of the Uprising. The night your mother left. The same fire that was believed to have consumed Valentine."
Clary looked down at her hands, unable to bare the sympathy in Hodge's eyes without breaking down.
"Perhaps we should continue our lesson tomorrow? I think we've discussed enough for today. Please take the rest of the day for yourself. All I ask is that you do not leave the grounds." Clary nodded numbly. "Before I go I want you to have something."
Hodge retrieved a book from a nearby cabinet that required a key to open. "Perhaps this will serve as a distraction for you. This belongs to me. It is one of few that I have catalogued throughout my lifetime." Clary opened the cover to discover a drawing - a rune. It was a circle with a symbol in the middle. The moment her eyes connected with the picture she knew it resembled awareness. Almost innately she was able to see the drawing for what it was. She wasn't sure how she knew, but she just knew. "I've recorded every rune that I've encountered in my time as a Shadowhunter. You'll find them all in within this book."
"Thank you," Clary closed the book and turned away.
"I'm sorry, Clary," Hodge said before he walked out, closing the door behind him.
…..b.r.e.a.k…
Clary finished the final touches on her sketch and then sat back to study it. She stared down at the remembrance rune - one of the hundreds she'd drawn from images in Hodge's book. Each one had been committed to memory. She couldn't explain the connection she felt with the runes, but it was powerful. Like something was simmering beneath the surface of her skin.
Clary turned to look out the window, unsurprised to see that it had turned dark out. The words he was your brother echoed in her head. She pushed the thought aside, unwilling to let it make her angry again.
"Clary?" A voice sounded, seconds before Isabelle's head popped through the door, complete with a curtain of long dark hair. "There you are. I've been looking everywhere for you." She bounded into the room, dressed to kill in a long sleeved, skintight dress, ankle accessories clinking together excitedly.
"Hey, Isabelle. You look great. What's the big occasion?"
She jumped up and down in excitement. "We're going out, that's the big occasion." Clary must have seemed confused. "We never get to go out with any of the kids here, so this is huge."
"I'm not a kid," Clary reminded her.
"You know what I mean. It's usually just me, Alec and Jace." The mention of Jace's name made Clary's stomach flutter up into her ribs. "But Hodge told me that you might need some cheering up, so here I am. And I come bearing gifts."
Isabelle held up a wrinkled, hot pink flyer. Clary tilted her head and squinted making out the words: party, Chairman Meow, and hosted by Magnus Bane.
"So in other words you think going to a party will help distract me from my most recent I had a brother I never knew about drama?"
She grinned like a kid. "Exactly. Plus Jace seems to think that Mr. High Warlock might be able to help you recover some of your memories. He's been looking into it." Isabelle's smile turned wicked. "Plus there will be cute boys. Have you ever seen a Fey boy with skin that sparkles like snow?" Isabelle lifted her eyebrows suggestively.
After two months of wondering about this new world, Clary deciding it was about time to start living in it. "No," she smiled, unable to help herself. Isabelle's attitude was contagious. "But I could certainly use the distraction."
"Excellent," she clapped. "Follow me, we need to freshen you up."
….b.r.e.a.k….
It was an oddly cold night for this time of year in New York. Steam rose from the grates that lined the sidewalks, as Clary and Isabelle carefully maneuvered their way around them.
"See?" Isabelle said as they crossed the street. "I told you those boots wouldn't hurt your feet. I'm glad I kept them, they haven't fit me in years."
"I feel funny." Clary picked at the tight fabric. "I've never worn a dress like this before. Are you sure this is even a dress?" Clary glanced over her shoulder. "And where's the back?"
"It's a shirt, but who cares? It looks great on you."
Clary tugged the back of her dress down. "So where are we meeting Jace and Alec?"
"At Magnus' place. They went ahead of us to scope it out. You never know with Warlock's."
…..
They arrived at an alley entrance, one lone street lamp casting light along the side of the building. Clary noticed a group of motorcycles parked near by. For some reason they seemed different than any motorcycle she'd ever seen, but she didn't know why.
Isabelle glanced at the flier and shrugged. "I guess this is it." She knocked on the metal door.
A beautiful boy with slanted eyes and blue spiked hair answered. He was drinking a glowing orange liquid. The base from the music leaped out from the door, assaulting the deserted street. "Bonjour, mon amours." His glitter-covered eyes gave them each a once over. "Looking lovely I see. You will have the boys drooling I assure you." He winked at Clary and she blushed. "Are you here to celebrate the many years of Chairman Meow?"
"Sure," Isabelle said, obviously confused.
"Wonderful!"
Isabelle stepped forward but the man shot his arm out across the threshold, not allowing her to continue inside. His previously friendly face became serious. "Just so we're clear, Shadowhunter, there will be no weapons drawn beyond this point. If you do I won't hesitate to turn you into a house plant."
Afraid that Isabelle would feel threatened and do something stupid, Clary spoke up. "You don't have to worry about us," she smiled innocently. "We're here for the boys."
The boy's smiled returned, seemingly amused by her confession. "Well then, we have at least one thing in common don't we?" He waved them forward.
…..
Magnus' apartment was much larger than Clary would have thought. Compared to where her and her mother had lived, this was a mansion. It had several floors and extended out in multiple directions. But it's not the size of the apartment that demanded Clary's attention.
Isabelle nudged Clary. "Crazy, right?"
"Crazy doesn't even begin to explain…" he words trailed off as she took in the scene in front of her. It was straight from the pages of a Midsummer Nights Dream.
There was a dance floor in the center of the room where a mass of colorful bodies twisted and swayed with the music. Orbs of light floated freely throughout the room, shifting between the colors of the rainbow. In the corner, a girl with hot pink hair and pale blue skin kissed a boy with sharp talons for nails. Clary's mind struggled to make sense of it all.
"Take a look at that." Isabelle pointed to something near by. Clary pried her eyes away from the mesmerizing scene. Resting a top a mound of plush pillows was a cat. It looked out at the crowd as if it knew exactly what it was seeing. Like a king overseeing his subjects. They giggled at the sight.
"Stay right here," Isabelle pointed to the ground. "Don't go anywhere, I'm gonna grab us a drink." Clary nodded and watched as Isabelle disappeared into the crowd.
Clary turned back toward the party and continued to gaze out at the mass of gyrating bodies. That's when she noticed a boy, standing still in the middle of the dance floor. People bounced and danced all around him but he remained still. He looked a few years older than Clary, and seemed almost…normal. He beckoned for Clary to join him.
Without meaning to Clary pushed away from the wall and walked toward him. In Clary's mind the music turned seductive, but when she glanced around everyone else seemed to be dancing to a different tune. But she didn't care because all she wanted to do was dance with the mysterious boy.
He lifted his hand to her and she could feel herself falling.
Something warm grabbed her hand and pulled her back. Jace. "Come here," he said harshly, pulling her away from the dance floor. He pulled her into a hallway and turned to face her. "What do you think you're doing? Are you looking for trouble?" His anger only made her angry.
"What are you talking about? What did I do?"
Jace grabbed her arms and searched them for something. "Dammit Isabelle," he muttered under his breath. Jace removed a thin white stick from his jacket pocket. "My stele," he said. "The burn will fade quickly." He turned her palm over and applied a rune on the back of her hand. He then grabbed her shoulders and turned her toward the dance floor.
Clary gasped, seeing the boy for what he really was. His skinny, pale limbs bent in unnatural directions, while his dark, pupil less eyes watched her. He resembled nothing of the normal boy she'd just seen.
"Do you see now?" Clary nodded, still staring at the…thing. "If you dance with him you'll dance forever. That rune will help you discern truth from lies." She was suddenly reminded of how naive she really was.
She turned around to face Jace. "Thank you."
The word hung in the air between them.
In the dim lighting Jace's eyes glowed like a cat. And they were focused entirely on her. They scanned Clary's face: lips, nose, eyes, hair, as if memorizing her. She caught a sense of wonder in his expression and her heartbeat quickened in response. A lock of hair fell into his eyes, forcing Clary to fist her hands in order to keep from reaching for it. All she had to do was rise up onto her tip toes and…
A million questions died in her throat when he suddenly turned away from her. He leaned back, resting his head against the wall, as if struggling with some internal turmoil.
Clary looked at her hand, unsure of what to say to him. She traced the mark with her finger. "You know, this is the first rune I've ever received?" She didn't look up at him but she could sense him watching her. "My mother wouldn't allow me to have them until I absolutely needed them." She laughed without humor. "I guess a demon attack wasn't absolute enough for her." Right now Clary wasn't too fond of her mother and this wasn't helping. She leaned up against the same wall that Jace was on.
"She was only trying to protect you," he said gently. Clary still couldn't meet his eyes. "She wanted to keep you safe, and she did so in the best way that she could."
"Pfff…" Clary rolled her eyes at the thought. "She has a funny way of showing it."
They were both quiet, each of them silently battling whatever demons were haunting them.
"By the way?" Clary looked up at Jace. He cut her a sideways look, his glowing eyes stroking her like the paws of a cat. "That dress should be illegal."
Clary smiled, lowering her head in embarrassment. She'd never been one to flirt, but if anyone could bring it out of her it was Jace. She looked up at him through her lashes. "It's actually a shirt."
AN: All done! I hope that you enjoyed this chapter; I had SO much fun writing it.
A special thank you to my reviewers! Megan Ly, Taylor Jade, runemagic, The Noxpert
I love reading your reviews, so please…type away .