Briskly, I removed myself from the institute, my feet carrying me somewhere they didn't care to share with the rest of me. I followed, enslaved to the sound of my boots on the pavement. I found myself nearing 81st and Columbus, the Museum of Natural History looming over me, engulfing me in its shadows. I glanced down at my watch, I had been walking for well over an hour.

I've always had the ability to shut it off. The emotion, the pain, anything that dare to raise the rhythm of my heartbeat. Call me a sociopath, but feeling nothing was my thing. The result wasn't much different than a drunk blacking out. I move, yet I do not feel. I see, yet I do not retain. I speak, yet my words never reach my eyes. For the past cannot breach the fortress of the void in which I dump my memories. Its easier this way. Feeling gets people killed and I was created solely to survive.

I hang a hard right into small bar next to the museum. The bouncer at the door expectantly gazes upward to card his next customer, me. My jaw set so tight I fear my bones may shatter under the pressure. "Give me a reason to hurt you, you pathetic mundane, I fucking dare you" Aggression emulates from my very pores. He lets me pass without a word.

"I'll have a Bourbon..neat." I intended for it to be dry and blasé, it came out as single breath of exhaustion.

"Certainly…" The melodic voice behind the bar croons. A slender brunette in a tight leather halter top and cut off shorts tends the bar, only I can see beyond her glamour. The pale glimmer of her skin reflects an iridescent color as she passes under the dimly lit chandeliers. Like a beetle she shines and scurries. Peering through the darkness beneath gold lashes, her purple eyes meet mine in a sneering delight. "…Nephilim."

"Fuck, me" I should have realized this block would be covered with Fey being that we are so close to the entrance of the Unseelie Court. She was spring Faerie, not nearly as powerful as Summer or Winter, yet nonetheless cunning and dangerous. The eeriness of her beauty was both intoxicating and revolting. "If you slip anything into my drink, I will kill you right here…understand." I cursed at her.

"How funny it is to understand everything, yet to abide by nothing." The corners of her mouth gathered to the center of her lips, blowing softly, the air was filled with her intoxicating sweetness. A simple trick in the fey world to disorient their victims.

"I'm fucking serious fey. I'm not walking another two blocks to get a damn drink. So lets try this again shall we?" I was quicker than her, my hand caught her wrist as I twisted ever so slowly. The pain hit her eyes briefly followed by something much darker…pleasure. I knew had won. "Do you understand?" I reiterated.

"I understand" She retracted to a place where I could not reach her. Sauntering over to the bottle of Maker's Mark, she leaned over so that the stark green vines gripping her thighs, holding up her stockings as nature's makeshift garter were visible against her pale iridescent skin. "Enjoying the view, Nephilim?" The liquid made its way down my throat as soon as it was finished entering my glass. I pushed it forward for a refill. "You have a lot of fight in you, let's have some fun, 'shall we'?" She mocks me, watching me drown myself. The Bourbon hot on the back of my throat. I think of Clary, her copper curls clinging to glasses of lemonade, her cheeks warming with the blood beneath them, and I decide to fight fire with fire. The corners of my mouth raise to match her devilish sneer.

"Shut it off Jace…let's have some fun 'shall we'?" I shove thoughts of Clary deep down inside my chest, as I move away from the bar, a silent gesture that the fey quickly picks up on, following me into the alley.

Immediately my hands are on her hips, shoving her into brick wall behind her, if she minds I don't care to notice. My head twitches as something flicks at the base of my skull.

You didn't think I left did you? The snake is back, and she is as happy as ever as she watches my destruction unfold.

I run my hand through the fey's hair, like silk, grabbing a chuck and pulling hard exposing her neck in the process. I waste no time devouring her. Her hips moving away from the brick wall to grind against my own, she wants more.

Now what would our dear Clary think of this Mr. Wayland?

I slam her hips back into the brick as she bites my bottom lip, her teeth sharp, something I failed to notice inside the bar, she draws blood, leaning back to flick her tongue against her bottom lip, drinking me like I am made of nectar.

You'll never deserve her, you'll only destroy her. The snake hisses in satisfaction.

I pick her up, wrapping her legs around my waist. The warmth of her center radiating against my jeans. She snickers. She's enjoying this too much.

Pathetic and alone, Mr. Wayland. You'll NEVER deserve her.

My hand is around her neck as my hips pin her into the wall. I squeeze, and she moans in response. I pull back, her fair skin already bruising in the places I've gripped most.

Fuck the fey, Jace. Maybe it'll make you forget about the girl you will never be able to touch.

I bite her lip…

Pathetic…

…her neck…

…Alone…

…the leather hiding her breast…

…Unworthy…

The thud of the fey's body echoes throughout the alley as it hits the cement, a disgruntled 'humph' passes her lips. This is the last thing I remember before feet were carrying me back to the Institute.