Thanks to those who've followed/reviewed/favorited this story of mine. Big shout out to you guys.

Also, I am continuing my Art of War fanfic to all you place fans. Just bear with me while I try and overcome this writer's block of mine. Now it's off to see Jurrasic World for moi.

-Violentkitsune

P.S - if you have any other suggestions for games that the shadow hunter crew should play, it me up and I'll see what I can do about it.

Round two – Fight!

"City of New York, it is nightfall," Clary began in a loud voice. "Eyes closed, it's sleepy time." The players rested in their chairs as Clary started the new round. She looked back over where the older Lightwood siblings were and kept a finger on her lips. "No talking or giving away any hints from the dead players," she warned.

"My lips are sealed," Alec promised. "Isabelle on the other hand…"

"Why doesn't anyone trust me? I'm pretty sure I have the best track record when it comes to keeping secrets and being honest," Isabelle replied smarmily, pulling at the dark brown leather jacket over her torso.

"But you have a horrible temper," Jace said coyly, twiddling his thumbs at the table.

Clary rolled her eyes and moved around the table, coming to a stop behind the High Warlock of Brooklyn. "Mafia. Time to get to work. Who do you choose… to kill?"

The mafia player raised their heads as they surveyed the remainder of the players. When Isabelle saw who it was, she all but screamed. She never would have pegged that person as the other mafia, and she sunk low in her chair, her glare drilling in the back of their skull.

"Okay mafia, head back to base," Clary ordered as she confirmed the target. "Now, nurse," she said with a mysterious voice. "Time to get to work. Someone's been shot and is close to dying. Choose who you want to save."

The nurse raised their head and took a little longer to choose who was worthy of being saved. They finally settled on a victim and looked to Clary for confirmation. 'Thank you, nurse, your shift has ended and it's time for you to go home. Close your eyes and sleep." She moved around back to the head of the table and stood with her arms across her chest. "Cop. Patrol time."

The cop raised their heads and looked about the table. "Time to investigate, and see who the culprit is." The cop briefly flicked their eyes to the Isabelle and Alec, but Clary cut across in front of their view. "Look at the guys at the table, buddy." The cop looked around and settled their finger on one of the players. Clary looked at the suspect and shook her head, motioning for the cop to fall back to sleep.

"Okay, city of New York, rise and shine!" Clary said in a bubbly tone. Jordan arched his arms above his head and stretched out his muscles, while Max lifted off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. Jace had a blank expression on his face as he waited for Clary to begin spinning her story.

"So Magnus…" Isabelle snorted as Clary began, watching Magnus's face darken with murderous intent, "… was hosting one of his many parties in his loft. It was a total rave, with all the strobe lights and lanterns, and all manner of Downworlder and rebellious Nephilim teenagers partying till the break of dawn." Clary held both hands out and shrugged. "I'd even go so far as to say that this was the party of all parties even, the best that Magnus has ever hosted. Suddenly, he sees someone that crashed his party, and he goes to investigate and 'farewell' them Warlock style."

" 'Bye Felicia' "Magnus said, flicking his wrist and watching sparks emit in the air above him. "And let me guess – it was the mafia and they drugged all the food to block my magic, and then they stabbed me right in the heart."

Clary swung her head to both sides and raised her hand up in hesitation. "Mmm… more like a crazy ex from the past had been hired, and they had set up a pressure-sensitive land-mine beneath that beloved Persian rug of yours, one that would have blown up both the entire apartment complex and dear old Chairman Meow. Any civilians walking around at that hour of the night would have been showered in faerie blood and the many gums and fangs of vampires and werewolves. Not to mention the Clave would've had to pick up all the body parts of fellow nephilim."

"Oh hell, girl, you're ruthless," Simon said in mock horror. "You sure enjoy making everything so bloody."

Magnus looked at Clary with a steel gaze. The atmosphere had decreased to a chilling temperature. "Really? You dare to threaten me by using my cat as a hostage."

"Oh geez, it's a game!" Clary huffed in a frazzled manner. "It's not a real thing, okay?! Simon - help me out will you?"

"Just continue with the story," Jordan said hurriedly before Simon could speak. He kept his eyes trained on Jace, unblinking and challenging. "I wanna know who died."

"No one died," Clary replied, walking backwards to the bench. "It just so happened that the nurse was at the party and managed to recognize the danger everyone was in. So, being the good person they were, they managed to evacuate the whole party and made sure his high and mighty Chairman Meow was stashed away safely outside of the blast zone before getting to work on the mine."

Magnus let out an exhilarated sigh and leaned forward on his elbows. "Thank goodness. Saves me from having to pay for damages and finding a new place to live."

"Uh, I think you've got your priorities mixed up a bit," Isabelle said from beyond the veil.

"You forget that I am immortal," Magnus pointed out, snapping his fingers and causing blue sparks to shower below. The half-eaten sundaes that Alec and Isabelle were currently eating had disappeared out of his grasp, re-emerging in front of the yellow-eyed warlock.

"What the- Magnus," Alec moaned. Two spoons flew out of the draw and Magnus caught them deftly in his hands, passing one over to Max, watching the kid salivate at the food before him.

"I've just demonstrated proof of my powers, so there's no possible way I would've died. Not unless you knew my secret, of course."

"Well, in this reality we're pretending that the mafia have powers beyond the king of hell, and that they can kill anything magical or not," Clary repeated. "Countdown starts now."

Chaos ensued as the remaining players began to bicker and shout. Magnus contributed very little to the conversation, due to the fact that he was the intended victim in this round, so no one could really suspect him that much. Not to mention the high warlock was made speechless, as he was currently downing French vanilla ice cream decorated with maple syrup and thin blades of almonds.

"Alec," Magnus called out over the noise and din, "I'm taking you to an ice-cream pallor. You need to learn how to let loose a bit more with your taste-buds, especially when it comes to sweets."

"My apologies, high warlock," Alec replied in a pompous tone. "Forgive me if I find joy in the simple things when it come to food. You'd be the same if you had Izzy as your personal chef."

Said woman glared at her brother and smacked him on the shoulder with her spoon, furrowing her eyebrows in disdain. "You take that back, Alexander."

"Okay, hold up," Jordan called out over the noise. All surviving members lowered their voices as they looked at the co-owner of the apartment. "Who among us would gain the most satisfaction from trying to kill Magnus?"

"Not me," Simon said, holding his hands up in peace. "Magnus helped out with the search party when I drank that faerie stuff, so I hold no vendetta against him."

Jace's eyes twitched. "Remember who actually did the real work and saved your behind in that hotel, rat face."

"You weren't exactly doing it out of the kindness of your heart," Simon replied. He felt a vein throb on the side of his neck, and his temper slowly began to rise. "From what I remember, you were quite keen to leave me as rodent for the rest of my life."

"I gave you blood on that ship, Lewis" the blonde shadowhunter said unashamedly, his eyes growing dark as he glared at the vampire. "I practically saved your life, Lewis. So if anything, you owe me."

Jordan's eyes bulged at the piece of information. Despite the stories spreading of how Simon achieved his Daylighter status, there were still a few among both Downworlders' and Nephilim who were unconvinced about his particular ability.

"None of that matters other than the fact that someone at this table tried to murder me," Magnus intruded in a whiny tone. "Enough speculating about the past. Just get to the point already."

"What are you?" Max asked, pointing his spoon to the female werewolf at the table. "What's your role?"

"I told you guys already," Maia said tiredly. "I'm a civilian."

"I don't buy it," the kid challenged, lowering his eyebrows in a threatening gaze.

"Really kid, does this face look like one that belongs to a liar?" Maia challenged in a sickly sweet tone, with a saccharine smile.

"Yes."

Maia was taken back by Max's words, surprised by how firmly he believed that she was lying. "Well, who do you think I am kid?" She asked stubbornly.

"Not a civilian," he sang, scooping up another spoonful of boysenberry ice cream with mixed berries and caramel sauce, coming together to create a beautiful paradox of sensational flavors.

"I don't know," Simon contemplated aloud. "Jordan, you haven't really said much about your role."

"I already told you guys that I'm a civilian," he said upfront. "Honest to whatever deity you believe in, I'm a civilian."

"You seem quite casual about all this," Jace observed from his seat. "You're not exactly convincing enough for me to believe you."

Jordan heaved a sigh, feeling his pulse speed up. "That's because I'm playing everything close to my chest. Look here, I volunteered my information in the first round to help everyone make some decisions. And that information has not changed at all, because there is no way that I am the mafia, okay?"

"Well, usually the first people to chuck their information out freely are the most suspicious," Magnus said in an eerie tone. "Maybe you're the other mafia, Kyle."

"Don't be ridiculous," he defended hotly. "Everyone knows that the one who's pointing fingers first and making the most noise is the main culprit."

"Why are you getting so riled up, huh?" Maia said. Her eyes narrowed into slits. "And why's your skin getting so flustered. I can feel that the intensity of the heat radiating from your body has increased in these last few seconds."

"T-That's because you guys keep pestering me," Jordan replied. "There's more people here tha- HOLD UP! BACK UP A BIT!" The praetor werewolf stood up abruptly from his chair and pointed his finger accusingly straight at Maia's face. "No you didn't, no you didn't!' He flicked his eyes around the room and held his hand over his mouth as he mumbled into it.

Simon's own eyes widened as he came to the same conclusion as Jordan, and he exclaimed aloud, laughing and howling at the same time whilst pointing both hands at the werewolf. "Holy crap, you just called yourself out right there. You're so screwed, Maia."

"What are you talking about?" Maia asked brusquely.

Jordan motioned to the gap between Maia and himself with an incredulous look on his face. "You just blatantly confessed that you were moderating the changes in my body temperature just now. That's against the rules, girl."

"It's true," Clary stated from her observation post by the bench. "Although come to think of it, that wasn't exactly the best rule to put in, since that's equivalent to you having to blind each and every one of your senses."

"Either way, you blabbed girl," Jordan confirmed. He held his arms out in victory as he gazed down at the members seated at the table. "This girl is mafia, right here."

Maia went red in the face as she realized what she'd just done. "I-It's just a natural thing for m-me to notice," she pleaded. "Besides, werewolf senses are extremely sensiti—"

"Nah uh, missy," Simon countered, shaking his head as he looked at the girl. "You were using your super-senses to try and figure out who was cracking under pressure—"

"No, that's no—"

"And then place the blame on them!" Simon concluded with a triumphant smirk on his face. "Face it, you're done girl."

"What the—I'm not mafia!" Maia cried out, slamming her palms on the table. "I'm the bloody nurse, and I just saved Magnus's life."

"But you said that you were a civilian in the first round," Jace intervened, sharpening his gaze on the girl. "Now all of a sudden you've changed your answer, and you're saying you're nurse."

"That's because if I revealed who I was in the first round—" she gestured with her hands before moving them to another part of the table, "then I would've died in this round, alright? Because then the mafia would've called me out and killed me off, regardless of whether they thought I was telling the truth. Because once I say that, then they would've just eliminated me either way as a potential nurse."

"The fact that you're lying about your role inspires no confidence in me, Miss Roberts," Jace replied cockily. "I told you guys. The first words I said when we starts were 'Maia's mafia'. Boom. Mic drop."

" 'Mic drop'? Seriously?"

"Enough engagement from the ghosties," Clary warned again.

"I agree with Maia on this one," Magnus pointed out as he leaned on the table. "You can't blame her for sensitive senses. I mean, look at Simon over there," he gestured to the brunette. "He's dead and he can't stop himself from overhearing all the extra noises and stuff."

"This guy's gotten pretty vocal," Max stated as he reached over to prod the Praetor in the bicep. A dangerous grin crossed over his face. "Maybe you're trying to take advantage of the situation. Maybe," he continued as his voice gained momentum, "you're trying to pin your girlfriend as the bad guy, to avoid getting spotted as the mafia. Since you have experience playing this game, maybe you're the real mafia who's just using his girlfriend as a scapegoat."

"Okay, first of all, she's my ex," Jordan corrected with a light blush on his face. "We're just friends at the moment—"

"Good save," Jace observed, taking note of how Jordan had inserted the 'moment' phrase to prevent Maia from used, as well as to notify the whole room what his intentions were.

"And second of all, why are you suddenly investing all your energy in this round, huh kid?" Jordan complained. The brunette narrowed his hazel eyes as he looked down on the kid. "Just when things heat up, you suddenly decide to add your ten cents worth in the conversation?" He held out one hand and pointed at Max. "Don't think you're out of the seat just because you're nine and you haven't hit puberty yet. Kids at your age can still lie."

Max's lips pulled themselves into a frown as he glared menacingly behind the frames of his over-sized glasses, gray eyes flashing as brilliantly as silver. "You have trust issues," Max said in a low voice, his hair shading his eyes from view.

"You're damn right he does," Maia answered, turning her nose up in the air.

Jordan cringed at the thinly-veiled insult, wincing at the memory of their shared past. This game was getting too intense for every one; people were attacking and accusing one another at the slightest hint of betrayal, throwing away their trust in that person to the wind.

"Time's up!" The redhead moved to the table, holding her phone in her hands as she studied and analyzed the situation at hand. "Voting begins now."

The votes were split equally between Jordan and Maia; both Simon and Jace were backing up the recent addition to Simon's band, while Max and Magnus pointed firmly at Jordan in favor of Maia Roberts.

"Max, switch your vote," Jace ordered. "Point your hand at Maia, Max."

"She's not the mafia," Max argued back, pushing his glasses back on his face. "She's the nurse, I can tell."

"No she isn't Max. She's the damn mafia."

"Am not," Maia growled.

"Yes you are," Jordan taunted teasingly, bringing his face in closer to the bronze-haired girl. "I see through your lies, girl," he said, snapping his fingers in a z.

"Did you honestly just snap me? Do you realize how childish that move is? That's what kids in fifth grade do when they can't make good comebacks."

"Enough," Clary intervened. She pointed to both Jordan and Maia and gestured to the rest of the group. "Since no one's changing their votes, you each will have thirty seconds to plead your case before the court. The rest of the players will decide the outcome of who will die. Jordan, you're first to plead your case."

Jordan looked around the table with a guarded expression. How on earth was he going to persuade a vampire, a shadowhunter, a warlock, and a baby shadowhunter that he was innocent? "Okay first of all, I'm not mafia… because I'm a civilian. I've stated this a million times and I've stuck to it," he shot a glance over at Maia. "Not to mention that I haven't used my powers at all in this game."

"For all we know, you could be using your super-senses," Max interrupted, "and trying to distract us and point the blame on someone that's reacting the most."

"Okay kid, first of all you need to spend some time with people your own age," Jordan responded. This kid had too much of Jace's arrogance and the Lightwood's stubbornness in his veins. "Second of all, that is not what I've been doing throughout this game, at all. I've been completely honest in my assumptions and I have not lied about my role—"

"Time's up." Jordan looked up at Clary with annoyance and held both hands up. "Shouldn't have spent all your time arguing with Max."

The young Lightwood stuck out his tongue and finished off the remains of his ice cream while Maia began the speech that would, hopefully, save her life.

"C'mon guys," she pleaded. "I've been with you guys for a while, and you all know me. Geez, Simon, I was stuck on that boat as well with that bloodthirsty sociopath – No offense intended, Clary."

"None taken."

"And, yeah I might've liked you for a teensy bit, and I might've been trying to compete with Isabelle for your attention – by the way Izzy, you can have him."

Isabelle blushed bashfully at her words and pretended not to hear a word as she dug sipped on the watered down vodka shot.

"But hey, I'm still good friends with her though. So there's no way in hell I'd want to kill her off. I don't want to put my name in her shade book or whatever hit list you guys have written up. And why on earth would I try to kill off the High Warlock of Brooklyn, when I know that he'll probably put a curse on me that makes me grow bunny ears and a tail the minute he finds out who's mafia? Who in their right mind would be stupid enough to that?"

"Probably Simon," Jace mused as he listened to her words.

"Clary, break up with Wayland, will you? I can't take anymore of his insults, and I don't think I'll be able to stop myself from dropping a sack of bricks on his halo."

"Don't tempt me," Clary teased. "Time's up. Boys, cast your votes. You have ten seconds to choose who you want in the game, and then it's over."

Maia slumped down in her chair and looked over at Jordan with a menacing gaze. Jordan stared back at her with equal fury and bared his teeth at the dark-skinned girl. She reached out and prodded him on the chest. "If I die, you are going to have a lot of begging to do if you want to work things out."

"Why would I be begging?" he teased mercilessly. "You're mafia, so by all rights it'll be a justified death."

"Votes have been taken into account," Clary spoke with perfect clarity. She drummed her hands on the table and looked at Maia with a sad smile. "It was three against one. Sorry Maia, but you're out of the game."

Jordan whooped with joy and gave a high-five to Jace and Simon. The girl gripped the tabletop as she glanced around the table. "Which one switched their votes?" she growled as she flicked her eyes between Max and Magnus.

"Magnus."

Maia nodded and looked at Max with warm eyes. "I owe you food the next time we meet. The rest of you traitors—" she said as she pointed around the room, "are dead to me."

"Well show us your card then and we'll see how we feel."

Maia moved at an alarming pace as she slammed her card on the table for all to see. Using her werewolf speed, she ran over to the kitchen and began piling a whole bunch of food on the bench.

All the boys turned their gaze away from the growling werewolf and looked down at the card on the table. Jordan was the first to pale as he looked down swore violently in another language.

The card itself was a Queen of Hearts - otherwise known in this game as the nurse.

One thought ran simultaneously throughout their minds as they looked at one another:

We're so dead.

"You bozo's," Max whined. "I told you she was the nurse. I told you and you didn't believe me. Now we're all gonna die, you eggs, and there's nothing we can do about it. I told you so, I told you…."

All the boys groaned at their poor decision-making skills, while the other Lightwoods and Clary laughed their heads off in the kitchen. They seriously had no faith in any of the players.

Jordan slowly turned to face Maia, pressing his palms together as he blurted out his apology. "I'm so sorry Maia, I didn't mean to kill you off. But it's just a game and I was trying to save my skin, because you were the most likely culprit. You know how intense this game gets, and how everyone changes. I'm so, so…"

Max laughed at Jordan's apology as he continued trying to woo his ex and get back into her good books. She shoved a sandwich filled with all the works in her mouth and growled dangerously at the praetor.

"Just give up," Max teased with a smirk. "You're never gonna get back with her now."

"Maia, if it makes you feel better, I'll hold Jordan down while you sprinkle pepper up his nose."

"Don't think I'm just upset with Jordan," Maia yelped at the blonde shadowhunter. "The only one at that table who get's off is Max, because he actually believed me."

Clary switched her gazes between the two groups. Three players were out of the game, while five players were currently sitting at the table, trying to figure how on earth they were going to find the last mafia member and apologize to the nurse. She clapped her hands and smiled eagerly. The children of the Nephilim were finally beginning to let down their guards, and were starting to have fun. "Let's continue, shall we?"