Wicked long chapter here. You're welcome. :) Here's more of Riley and an explanation of... stuff, which someone said they wanted. More Will shall come up, and there will be MAD ROMANCE, so watch for that. Well, not mych else to say, so here you go...

Disclaimer: I am reading CA for the fifth time since Christmas, and I like CoFA well enough, so ALL HAIL C SQUARED. Oh, yeah, this belongs to her. :) Love you Cassie.

Chapter: Belle

"So you're saying," Charlotte began again, "that you have… angel blood? More than a typical faerie, that is? How does one even get a hold of that?"

"I don't know," Belle insisted for the tenth time. She and Jem had just told Charlotte Belle's secret, but she didn't quite know what to do with the information– sad, because Jem didn't know what to do either. "I know that there are actually two teenagers in New York with angel blood– my father got the idea for me from them. Look up Clarissa Morgenstern and Jace Wayland, they both have angel blood."

Charlotte dropped into a chair, putting her head in her hands. "What do I do?" she asked rhetorically. After a few minutes of silence, she looked up. "Can you show me?"

"Show you what?" Belle asked, confused.

"Show me… what you can do."

Belle nodded her agreement, standing up with a grin. "So should I show you… this?" She practically teleported to the other end of the room; Jem had seen hardly anyone move so quickly. "Or this?" She grabbed tiny handholds on the rough stone walls, climbing up them like a spider until she was able to perch on the rowan beam above. "Or maybe this?" She leapt off the beam, thirty feet in the air, with a perfect flip, landing on her feet like a cat. "Anything else?"

"It's true…" Charlotte said in astonishment. "Shadowhunters with years of training can't move like that. Did you have any sort of formal training?"

"No," Belle said after a moment's thought. "Some, but not nearly as much as, say, Jem or Will."

Charlotte nodded. "I appreciate you telling me, but I don't understand why I needed to know."

"Charlotte," Jem implored, speaking for the first time. "Don't you remember why you had reservations about Belle staying here when she first showed up?"

A look of recognition dawned across the woman's face. "The informant?"

Jem nodded. "It seems to me that a jealous Downworlder was getting revenge. It would appear that some others might not view Belle's talents as much as a gift as she sees them."

Belle had to agree. "That could definitely be it, but lately I've been thinking that it has something to do with Riley, and since the informant was a vampire, it could only–" She stopped talking, eyes wide, and clapped her hands over her mouth.

"Belle?" Jem asked cautiously. "What about Riley would incur the wrath of the Night Children? He's one of them, isn't he?"

"To a certain degree," she muttered. "Now that is none of your business. But when did I ever tell you Riley was a vampire?"

"You let it slip yesterday that Will said only a vampire loved you, so I thought it might be him. And if it has anything to do with you, it matters."

"No, it doesn't," she insisted. "Sometimes, what happens in Downworld stays in Downworld. You Nephilim don't need to come running every time something goes wrong. We are capable of handling ourselves."

"I didn't mean… if he has something to do with why you were hurt, I'd like to know," he explained softly. "I care about what happens to you."

Belle bit her lip, ashamed. "Sorry Jem, Charlotte… That's not what I meant. I just don't see how anyone would have such a huge grudge against Riley that…" Her voice trailed off, and a look of comprehension replaced her confused one. "I'll be back. Things to do, people to see."

Jem stood. "If you're going, so am I."

"Absolutely not. I will not see you get hurt on my account."

"You think the danger is so great that I cannot handle myself?"

"I think that you don't know what the danger is."

"You could tell me."

"I'm not positive myself."

"Try me."

"I'll show you, if you're going to be so stubborn about it," she relented. "Just come on. It needs to be after dark, but I need to talk to some people first."

Jem agreed and, with Charlotte's permission, the pair headed out in the direction of Magnus Bane's house. When they arrived, Belle walked in without knocking, calling, "Magnus! Where are you?"

He appeared in a doorway with a towel wrapped around his waist. "Belle, darling, I'm busy. Can you come back later?"

"No."

He sighed. "Give me fifteen minutes."

It was more like thirty minutes when Magnus reappeared, looking distinctly cross as he threw himself in a chair. "I was busy."

Belle craned her neck to see the small, slender body slide out of Magnus's bedroom and head for the back exit. "I can tell. However, I thought you'd think this was important."

He raised an eyebrow, cat eyes gleaming as he looked between Jem and Belle. "What, did you two have sex?"

Jem choked, while Belle protested, "no, we didn't! Why would you think–"

He rolled his eyes. "I see the way you look at her, Shadowhunter. Just watch yourself. Hurt her, and–"

"And you'll kill me?" Jem finished.

"No, I think she's quite capable of killing you herself, possibly with a variety of weapons."

"This is not actually what I came here to talk about," Belle interrupted. "I came to ask if you've spoken to Lady Belcourt recently."

"Camille?" he asked, surprised. "No, I haven't. We aren't together, you know that. Why do you want to know?"

"Probably," Belle began, "because I believe she tried to kill me."

Jem looked very surprised. "She's always been an ally of the Clave–"

"Ah, but I am not a member of the Clave."

Magnus nodded, leaning forward in his seat. "You think she is responsible for sending the demon after you? Why would she–" He froze. "Riley?"

Belle nodded. "That's what I was thinking. Do you think she was sending it after him, but I was just in the way?"

"If Camille is behind this, I doubt she'd be as forward as that. She's much more likely to be subtle. No, I'd say she sent a demon to kill you because it would kill Riley to see you hurt. She'd want to see him suffer."

"We are close friends," Belle agreed, but Magnus shook his head.

"That's not it. I can't believe I have to tell you this, but he's in love with you. You must be blind not to see it."

"He is not."

"Is too."

"Is not."

"Is too. He can't look away when you're in the room, he moved away from everything he ever knew to follow you to London, he protects you–"

"We're friends," she insisted, though her face burned a fierce scarlet.

Jem looked thoughtful. "Riley's a vampire, right?" When Belle nodded, he continued. "Than what about him is so special that Camille wants him miserable?"

Belle hesitated, glancing at Magnus; he nodded encouragingly. "Riley is… different."

"So are you. Is that why you're friends?"

She smiled ruefully. "Misfits have to stick together. He's special in a similar way to me."

"Angel blood?" Jem looked puzzled. "What does that have to do with–"

She sighed. "It'll just be easier if I explain everything now. Riley was born and raised in America, in Boston, and went to Paris with a few friends last summer. While he was there, he got bitten. His friends had to go home without him, and tell his parents that he died– which was technically true– while Riley had to stay in Paris."

Jem made a noise of sympathy. "Oh, God. That's terrible."

Belle nodded. "Well, I was wandering the streets one night, and we met. He seemed nice enough, told me how to get where I was going– I was lost, which was especially pathetic considering I lived there– and we became friends of a sort."

"Okay, I'm with you so far."

"Well, a few months after that, we arranged to meet out of the city, just to be alone for awhile. I asked if he would bite me."

He choked. "If he would what?"

"Bite me. I didn't want him to kill me, or turn me into a vampire, but I wanted to know what it was like." She shrugged. "I'm curious. It took almost two hours of convincing, but he gave in." She thought back to that moment, relieving details she would never share.

His hair was black in the darkness; in fact, she wouldn't know that it's true color was auburn for days. His eyes really were as dark as they looked, that much she could see from the moon reflected in them. He was sitting very close to her. "I don't want to hurt you," he insisted, voice thick with regret and something else; he almost sounded close to tears, but she didn't think vampires could cry.

"You won't," she said firmly, her sixteen-year-old self so convinced of that fact. "I don't think your body would even let you hurt me." This seemed to be true; he had never hurt her, hadn't even come close. It was like there was something preventing him from doing so. She became acutely aware of the way he was looking at her, his gaze roaming her face, her hair, skimming her body before rising back up to linger at her mouth. It was like he… loved her.

He nodded, once. "Give me your wrist."

"Shouldn't it be my neck?" she asked with a wry smile.

"No," he said in a voice more adamant than she had ever heard it. "I won't risk harming you like that. Wrist, please."

She held it up, and he took it in long, slender hands, so very gentle, like he didn't know his own strength and wasn't risking anything. He raised it to his lips slowly, but the bite was swift. Belle almost cried out, because it did hurt, but then she knew he would stop, probably refuse to touch her again in fear of doing more damage. After a few minutes, he dropped her arm and turned away, looking almost sickened.

"What, is my blood not good enough for you?"

"No," he said, "that isn't it."

"I am half-demon, you know. Is my blood bitter?"

"A little, but not unpleasantly. It's more like dark chocolate, you know, really dark."

"Mmm, dark chocolate. I'm also half-angel. Am I sweet?"

"Very." He smiled. "Like honey and sunshine."

"Sunshine doesn't have a taste."

"If it did, that's what you taste like."

They fell asleep not long after, fingers laced together, only waking up when the sun's rays stroked them. Belle sat up first, filled with a horror she couldn't name. It was true, if her father found out she had left the city to spend the night with a vampire, he would kill her, but that didn't matter. What mattered was that they were in the sun, and that would kill Riley. He sat up, astonishing them both; the sun touched his skin, and he did not die. He was basking in the morning glow, and he was alive.

"How– how–" he stuttered, but Belle couldn't speak. "How am I alive?" he whispered, astounded.

It wasn't until a week later that they figured it out– her angel blood, that is, the extra angel blood she had in her, had saved him.

Belle didn't try to explain any of that; the memory seemed far too intimate to share with either of them. "Well, when the other Downworlders found out that he was a Daylighter– that's the technical term for a vampire that can withstand sunlight, and that's what my angel blood did– they shunned him. The vampires hated him, and Camille most of all. She's one of the oldest, you know, and one of the ones most bitter about not being able to walk in the sun. I suppose it's quite possible she would seek to hurt Riley through me."

"Sure is," Magnus agreed. "Not only possible, but likely. It is the type of thing she'd do. Question is, what are you going to do about it?"

"Confront her, I guess. Can you send her a message?"

Magnus nodded. "Here, you write it." He snapped his fingers, and a piece of paper and a pen appeared.

"Nice," Belle said appreciatively, taking them and scribbled a note: "Camille: I appreciate that you tried to kill me, I really do, but since you failed, mind if we meet tonight? Say, on Narrow Street? Excellent, glad to hear it. See you after sundown, tonight. –Belle"

"You can't stop with the wit, can you?" Magnus asked, exasperated, but with another snap of the fingers the note disappeared. "Anyway, no way in Hell am I letting you go alone."

"You sound like Jem. Why does everyone think I can't handle myself?"

Magnus chose to ignore that. "Now, I'm not going with you, but Riley definitely should and I'd recommend a Shadowhunter. Take this one." He gestured in Jem's general direction. "He'll watch your back. After all, he lo–"

"That's enough of that, then," Jem interrupted, cheeks pink. "We'll tell you how it goes, okay? We should go?"

"Why the hurry?" Belle asked, amused, but she followed him out. "Bye, Magnus! Thanks for the help!"

"Any time, my dear, any time."

That Night

Belle shivered. "I should have worn a coat." She was waiting with Jem and Riley at Narrow Street, and the moon shone above like a huge white saucer. The stars were the same silver as Jem's hair, and the sky was the same velvet black as Riley's eyes or Belle's curls. If Jem looked worried, Riley looked downright anxious, eyes darting catlike from side to side, jumping at the slightest sound. Belle looked thoroughly unruffled, though only she knew the calm façade masked her nervous interior.

"Here," Jem said, stripping off his jacket. "Take this." He held it out, trying not to wince at the knife-slice of cold air that penetrated the thin layer of his sweatshirt.

Belle shook her head obstinately. "No," she said stubbornly. "You're cold too. Are you sure you're all right?" she asked carefully, studying his face with narrowed eyes. "No, you're definitely not all right. I'm not taking your coat. Put it back on, I don't want you getting sick."

He rolled his eyes, but did as she commanded. "Yes, m'lady. Anything you desire."

"Don't be a prick," she said, but she smiled. "Where is Camille?"

"Here," a soft voice purred from the shadows. She stepped out, looking miraculously beautiful as always. Her icy blonde curls were twisted up into an elegant knot, her eyes shone like lamps in the darkness, and she wore a scarlet dress that clung to her form seductively. A devilish grin twisted her full red mouth, and when she next spoke, the trio could see her fangs glinting. "Ever so pleased to see you alive and well, Riley. And Belle, of course."

"Can we get to the point? You sent a demon to kill me just so that you could hurt Riley," Belle said with an air of finality.

Camille bared her teeth in a snarl. "If I did?"

"It's true that the Law cannot prevent private matters between Downworlders," Jem said, "but as a human being, I think it's horrible." He shrugged, faking indifference to the way Camille took the news.

"James," she acknowledged in a pleasant voice. "It is not often I see a Shadowhunter so involved in the affairs of the Children of Faerie, especially without a good reason. Although," she mused, "I suppose you do have a good reason, don't you? At least, you think you have a good reason." At his questioning look, she laughed, a harsh sound like breaking glass. "Don't think I don't see the way you look at her. It's apparently only the girl who doesn't know–"

Remembering what Magnus said about her not knowing that Riley loved her, Belle spoke. "And how exactly does he look at me?"

"I don't think I should let that slip. Let the boy tell you himself. In fact, let both of them tell you."

Belle growled. "I don't want to hear this right now. Back to the matter at hand: did you or did you not try to have me killed?"

"Of course I did. Being a Daylighter is unnatural, and I am not alone in thinking so. Only the boy thinks he is normal, acceptable in society. I needed to break his spirit, to show him that he is no better than anyone else, and that he belongs with the vampires if anywhere, rather than faeries and mundanes. If the way to do that is to kill you–" She shrugged, tossing her head. "Than so be it. You yourself are not precisely normal, though, are you? Just as much a freak as the Daylighter, but surely you know you cannot find refuge with the Nephilim. They are a proud people who think they are better than the rest of us, and you do not belong with them."

Belle took a few steps forward, stopping only feet from the vampire woman. Jem noticed the differences and similarities between the two; Camille was at least three inches taller than Belle, with pale blonde curls instead of inky black ones, and she was decked out in a beautiful gown of silk. Belle, on the other hand, looked gorgeous (at least in the opinion of the two boys) in jeans, sneakers, and one of Jem's shirts. They did share their emerald green eyes, their ice-white skin, and the ferocity in their eyes, though Camille's was controlled while Belle's was feral and wild.

"Don't," Belle said firmly, "make me hurt you."

"As if you would dare," Camille hissed. "How do you presume to kill me, faerie?"

"Well," Belle drawled, "I think it'll go a little bit like this." She leapt at Camille, drawing a knife from her belt with lightning speed, intending to hold it to the woman's throat. She moved out of the way just in time, but Belle rolled when she hit the ground and sprung to her feet again. Camille looked less arrogant now; in fact, if Belle didn't know her better, she'd say she almost looked afraid. A sudden glare of white light blazed up; Belle blinked away tears to see the faintest outline of Jem holding his witchlight stone. "I thought it'd help to have some light," he called.

Camille shrunk away from the light– it's witchlight, Belle realized, which is angel light. Angel light burns her. She took advantage of the vampire's temporary incapacitation with another leap. This time, she succeeded in holding her dagger to Camille's icy, unmoving chest. "Move and my blade pierces your heart, so I'd be careful."

The woman glared. "You win," she mocked. "Are you going to claim your spoils and stab me?"

Belle hesitated. "I– no," she admitted. "But if this ever happens again, I will not hesitate to slice your head from your shoulders. Do you agree?"

This was met with a nod. "This is far from over, Daylighter, but I will not harm your… friend again. Probably."

"No! Not probably!" It was too late; Camille had disappeared. She breathed a sigh of relief. "At least I can sleep in peace."

Jem doused his witchlight, making the world suddenly dark, and hurried to be at her side, Riley close behind. It was Riley who threw his arms around Belle. "I was so worried," he whispered.

"You shouldn't have been," she insisted quietly, but she returned his gesture of affection. When he pulled away, she held out her arms to Jem. "How're you holding up, angel boy?"

He grinned weakly. "Been better. You seem much too calm about this whole thing."

"I just don't want to deal any more, you know?"

He nodded. "I understand perfectly. We've all felt that way."

She turned back to Riley. "I'm so sorry."

His eyes popped. "What in the name of–" He choked on the name of God. With a sigh, he continued. "What the hell do you have to be sorry for? She wouldn't have gone after you if it wasn't for me!"

"It's my fault you're a Daylighter in the first place!"

"Something I thank you for. You changed my life– well, my death. I owe you everything." He smiled shyly, squeezing her hand before bidding her farewell. "I'll talk to you soon, okay?"

She nodded. "Bye, Riley," she said softly.

"Bye, Belle. Jem, pleased to meet you."

"Same." They shook hands, and Riley slipped away into the darkness. "I suppose we ought to get back, yes?"

Belle nodded. "Jem?"

"Yes?"

"What did Magnus and Camille mean when they saw 'how you look at me'?"

Much to her surprise, he blushed, though he did meet her eyes. His own were too clear to be truthful, but he did answer with, "Just that I wanted you to be safe. I watched your back much the way I watch Will's."

This made sense, but Belle didn't buy it. It would have to do for now, however, and it was enough just to be with him.

Yeah, sorry to anyone who likes Camille. I liked her in CA, but in CoFA she was a bitch, so now she is here, too. REVIEW!