EEEP! Hello people. Forgive me for not updating for a billion years but ******Spoiler Alert***** this chapter contains a lengthy description of Eve's past, (Oh. Such a spoiler.) and when I started to think about her past, I was possesed to write a prequel to this story, because I just have so many moments/ ideas with Jonathan and Eve and Valentine that would be too difficult to explain after the fact...

So. I will continue writing this story, while also writing the prequel - called 'The Morgenstern Girl' - and 'Eden' will make sense whether you read the prequel or not...But the prequel has a faster pace to it... And a lot of halarious/cute moments.

Disclaimer: I don't own nothin'. All props to Cassandra Clare.

P.S.: PAUL BETTANY SHOULD PLAY VALENTINE MORGENSTERN IN THE CoG MOVIE! HE'S SO PERFECT!

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(Akhem)... On with the story...

Jace paced back and forth in the entryway: listening for the rumble of Luke's truck through the steady pounding of the rain. Bits of candlelight illuminated the room, casting strange, dancing shadows on his skin, but he hardly seemed to notice it. He felt as if he had been waiting there for hours, though the heavy, marble clock barely seemed to move between one glance and the next: Time always passed slowly when he was alone.

Robert and Maryse had left even before Clary had arrived – on a dinner-date, they had said; and they had not been impressed when he called them. But no one, Jace supposed, would be happy if their romantic evening was interrupted by urgent business: Especially if said urgent business required dealings with the Silent Brothers.

As soon as he had told Maryse and Robert about Luke's new mystery-girl, they had notified the Clave. It was mandatory to report any suspicious activity – anything that might go against Clave law or the Covenant – to the Conclave; and when the Inquisitor heard the news, he took a particular interest in the Eve-girl. Arrangements had been made, shortly after. The Inquisitor was to have an audience with her that very evening in Bone City.

Jace had tried to reason with the Inquisitor through Maryse; to tell him that the girl's tale wasn't reliable and that Luke was only bringing her to the Institute because it was his duty. But the Inquisitor, Maryse said, had remained adamant. Jace and Luke were under orders to keep the girl at the Institute until one of the Brothers came to escort them to the City.

As for Alec and Isabelle, they had slunk off earlier in the afternoon – Alec probably to go see Magnus and Isabelle to go see Simon. She had been spending a lot of time, lately, Jace noticed, with the vampire… He made a mental note to ask her what was going on between them, later.

Jace stopped pacing, suddenly, catching a noise from outside.

It was the roar of an engine.

The golden elevator-door glinted behind him as he stood still. Absently, he noticed that his hands were clenched at his sides, though he couldn't imagine why. This girl wasn't a threat, he reminded himself. She was a fake, most likely: a crazy Circle fanatic who only wished that she could do the things that she claimed – but a part of him was unsure. What kind of girl would want to stir up trouble with the Clave for a lie?

A stupid one, he thought bitterly.

There was a muffled thud from outside – the sound of the truck door closing. Jace spun around to face the magnificent set of doors that Luke would inevitably come through and waited. It would be five, maybe ten seconds more, then he would know – know if this girl was a fake or not. His chest rose and fell quickly, as if he had been running.

The first thing he saw when the doors creaked open was Luke.

Rain thundered in the street behind him, caught in the glow of the streetlights, framing him with what looked like a neon shower of sparks.

And then the girl walked in.

Jace hadn't thought about how she would look, but if he had, he supposed he would have conjured up an image close to Isabelle; someone with dark, mysterious features and coloring. Someone who looked capable of following Valentine.

This girl looked nothing like that. She was obviously beautiful, though very unlike Isabelle: more delicate and fragile, like something made of spun glass. Almost, he thought, like a porcelain doll; with her fair skin and her waist-length golden curls and her ocean-blue eyes.

Luke eyed him tiredly; his spectacles perched crookedly on the bridge of his nose. "This is the girl I was telling you about, Jace," said Luke, closing the door. "This is Eve."

Jace met her gaze over the empty line of pews. She quickly averted her eyes. He noticed, then, for the first time, the glinting length of chain coiled around her wrists. The metallic rope was absurdly bulky; the sort of thing used for industrial purposes. It was almost comical how it wrapped around her arms, covering half her forearms like an iron glove.

He shot Luke an 'isn't-that-a-little-overkill?' look, but the older man seemed well aware of how ridiculous the restraints were. The girl – Eve –had a satchel slung over her shoulder, on top of the already excessive weight on her arms: and not a small satchel at that. He wondered how she seemed to bear all that weight so casually; if she was really unaware of the strain, or if she was just putting on a strong front.

"This way," Jace directed, pulling aside the gilded elevator door.

Eve was the first to move, crossing the floor with noiseless grace. Her eyes remained downcast as she past him, hidden underneath her long silvery lashes like jewels. He wondered, for a moment, why she refused to look at him, then Luke slid into the elevator behind Eve and Jace was forced to follow.

The ride to the second floor was eerily silent. Neither he, nor Luke, nor the girl seemed inclined to speak to each other at all.

You can't stay silent forever, Jace thought determinedly. He glimpsed in the mirrored wall of the elevator, just in time to see her eyes glued on his reflection. She saw him staring back at her in the glass and immediately turned her face away, her curtain of blonde curls unable to hide the flush in her cheeks.

Jace twisted to face her with a cold grin. "I know what you're thinking," he began, cruelly. "My stunning good-looks and magnetic personality have already drawn you in, haven't they? Have the torrid fantasies begun yet? The daydreams?-"

"Actually," she answered without looking at him. "I was wondering how someone as arrogant as you could have possibly killed the great Jonathan Morgenstern."

Jace's grin widened, showing bits of his white teeth. "Very easily, to tell you the truth," Jace leaned in towards her, as if telling her a secret. "He must not have been very special, if he ended up dead."

She turned to face him and Jace felt a sudden surge of confusion. He had thought that she would be furious, that she would not be able to control her rage. But her expression held nothing like anger. She looked tentatively interested, like his comment was somehow distantly familiar. But her eyes were just as tired as Luke's had been – a profound sort of tired, like her mind hadn't been at rest for months.

"For someone so opposed to Jonathan," she replied with a thoughtful expression. "– you act an awful lot like him."

That, momentarily, shut him up. Jace was only vaguely aware of Luke's careful watch over them as he scowled at her. Jonathan Morgenstern was a monster, a murderer: he knew he was nothing like him –

And he was about to say so when Eve smiled.

It was a beautiful, shy sort of smile, that reminded him somehow of Clary. It caught him slightly off guard, to think that he had compared this girl, this girl that he had just met – this girl that was supposed to be his enemy – to Clary. But there it was.

"And like Jonathan," she continued softly. "– you despise being the victim of anyone's joke but your own. Does it bother you? To think that you and Jonathan are the same in some small way?"

Jace ignored this, partially because it was true. "How do you know so much about Jonathan Morgenstern?"

She shot him a knowing look, as if she realized she had been right, but didn't pursue the matter. She shrugged elegantly before answering him. "I lived with him for ten years. Naturally, he and I knew each other well."

There was a nauseating lurch underneath their feet as the elevator stopped. The golden doors slid open and Eve strolled out obligingly, waiting for Luke and him to follow. It must have been the first polite convict Jace had ever encountered.

"You lived with each other?" Jace echoed. He fell into step beside her and looked to see that Luke had done the same. The two of them paced her on either side like a pair of security guards. "And where was Valentine that whole time? – Assuming," he added. "That your story is true."

"Living with us also, of course," She chuckled, as if the idea of them living alone together was ridiculous. "When we were children he left us alone together, certainly, but once we grew older…" A slight flush crept to her cheeks. "Valentine may have doted on Jonathan, but he wasn't naïve. He knew his son – and what he may do when… when unsupervised."

They walked for a few minutes in almost-silence, Jace glaring stonily forward. He led them through the labyrinth of corridors until they reached the library, where Hodge had once spent the majority of his time. But thinking of Hodge brought a stream of unwanted memory to Jace, like a bursting flood-gate. The look on his tutor's face as the light faded from his eyes, side-by-side with Sebastian's – Jonathan's – malicious grin. The way the fire had crackled in the Gard… Was it possible that there had been another girl? Someone Valentine had kept secret from them all – even in death?

Jace tried to avoid looking at Hodge's old desk as he guided them to the cluster of chairs in the corner and took a seat. The empty hearth beside them seemed desolate, as if it hadn't been used for ages. He wondered when it had been used last.

Eve sat on a short couch in front of him, Luke leaning against the back of one of the chairs beside him; the three of them waiting for the other to speak. In the end, though, it was Jace who broke the silence.

"The Inquisitor is going to send one of the Brothers shortly," he told her. "He's requested an audience with you in Bone City."

Understanding lit her eyes as she nodded. He noticed that her eyes weren't entirely blue like he had thought. They were flecked with a deep gold very much like his own. It was a fascinating combination, something that caught his interest against his will. "But I have a few questions of my own." Jace continued. "First of all, I'm curious as to why Valentine kept you so close; close enough to let you know Jonathan. From what I hear, not many people knew he even existed."

She looked slightly surprised, like she hadn't expected the question. "The answer is not as simple as you may think," she began slowly. "It is part of a greater story. To answer your question, I would also have to explain how I met Valentine, the nature of my birth…"

Jace's golden eyes flashed somberly. "I think we have time."

A dark thoughtfulness settled over her features like mist. She paused, staring past him. "I suppose you already know about Valentine's experiments," she began gravely. "– what he did to Jonathan?"

Jace nodded.

"Valentine told me," she went on. "– that after Jonathan was born, he fell into despair. He had wanted a warrior, he said, a successor that would follow in his footsteps: but Jonathan did not fit Valentine's mold. Jonathan was too vindictive, too rash… Valentine knew that his son was not the heir he desired, even when Jonathan was barely an infant…" She shook her head slowly, as if the thought saddened her. "So Valentine panicked; he made the preparations, he summoned an angel, hoping that if he took some of the angel's blood and injected it into Jonathan, maybe the good nature would counteract the bad: the way an antidote neutralizes the poison. Jonathan was still very young, possibly young enough to still be changed…"

"I'm guessing it didn't work," Jace cut in. "Otherwise I wouldn't have had to sink a dagger into his back."

Eve winced slightly. "It is true," she confirmed in a tight voice. "Valentine planned to experiment on a few animals first, to test what would happen if a subject had both bloods injected into it. He wanted to make sure that his son's life wouldn't be compromised if he went along with the process. But he got only a short way in his research before he could not continue. The bloods would not mix when he filled the syringe, you see. In fact, as soon as the two bloods came into contact with each other," She frowned. "Well, all hell broke loose, as the saying goes."

Luke leaned forward slightly. "What do you mean?"

"It was like trying to mix water into hot oil, Valentine said. The angelic warred against the demonic even on the most primary level – even with the blood in their veins. The two bloods would spit and boil for what seemed like hours, until the reaction subsided and only one of the two natures remained. The angel's blood would dominate the demon's blood or the demon's blood would dominate the angel's blood, leaving only the victor behind. There was no in-between."

"But Valentine couldn't let it go, could he?" Jace mused, leaning into the plush back of the chair. "He continued experimenting."

"Yes, this time he used the animal test subjects, injecting the two bloods separately." The chain around her arms rattled as she shifted her hands. "There was a fifty-fifty chance, he thought, that they would inherit the angelic nature, and he considered that reasonable odds. Only after he conducted his tests did he realize that the chances were less favorable than he'd thought. There was a fifty percent death-rate in the subjects; leaving only a twenty-five percent chance that Jonathan would survive and get any better…and it was a gruesome death, also – as if the animal was being eaten away from the inside." She shuddered. "Valentine began to loose hope that he would ever have his heir."

"– And so he went to Stephen and Celine Herondale," Jace finished for her. "– and gave the pregnant Celine a small quantity of Angel's blood, that she ate periodically. Then, eight months later, pop," He made a sudden gesture with his hands. "There I was, Valentine's angelic little Plan B, his heir; but I still don't see where you fit in," he added.

Eve smiled again, another one of her soft, affectionate grins. "Don't be so egotistical, Jace," she said with tired fondness. "You were an afterthought, it's true, but you weren't the first one. I am a few months older than you. I was first."

He shot her a guarded look. "That makes no sense."

She gazed at him with her stunning, gold-flecked eyes, a guiltless question floating in their depths. "Why would it not?"

Because you're a girl, Jace thought. And Valentine would never consider a girl to be a worthy successor.

But maybe that was why Valentine had wanted him also. Maybe he had found out that his first attempt at an heir was not the gender he had wanted and tried again. It sounded possible, and certainly realistic –

Something must have shown in his expression, because Eve's shy smile unexpectedly widened. Her teeth were perfect and white just like his. "Ah," she began with an amused look. "Are you thinking that I was unwanted? I am a female, yes, and generally speaking, women prove less useful on the battlefield than a man would, but Valentine was not looking for a boy or a soldier when I was born."

"So what was he looking for?" Luke inquired. There was a steely undertone to his voice, like there always was when he was being authoritative. Eve didn't seem to notice.

"– The ideal warrior," she answered with a note of finality in her voice. "But he only wanted that warrior if it were his kin, his own blood –"

"Then why did he bother with either of us, if all he wanted was a Morgenstern?" Jace demanded.

She seemed to sense his increasing frustration. "Like you said, you were a Plan B," she explained. "A scapegoat in case his plans with me failed." She glanced at her hands distractedly. "I assume he thought that an heir like Jonathan was worse than an heir that didn't share his Morgenstern blood."

Luke took off his spectacles, rubbing the lenses on his flannel shirt. "That still doesn't explain you." Luke insisted. "After Valentine's experimentation with the demon and angel blood, what happened?"

"He thought of an alternative, as he always did." Eve glanced up at Luke with a grim expression. "A way to ensure he had his warrior – his Morgenstern warrior – without having to change Jonathan at all."

"Oh?" Jace added lazily. "And how did Valentine plan to do that?"

Luke fired a sharp look in his direction, as if he had done something nasty and malicious. Whose side was he on?

Eve ignored the sarcasm; as if it were all she was used to. Her voice echoed in his mind: 'I lived with him for ten years,' she had said. 'Naturally, he and I knew each other well.'

She lived with Valentine, he thought. And Jonathan.

Maybe it was all she was used to, he realized.

"Valentine contacted my parents, Emile and Minerva," she went on. "Valentine needed a child, infused with the Angel's blood. He and my father had been friends since infancy, so when Valentine came asking the favor," Eve gazed at her bound hands. "– Well my father couldn't bring himself to refuse…"

"Even if it meant giving his child to a madman?" growled Luke. Jace understood him enough to know that it wasn't Eve he was angry at: his anger was directed toward her parents. But Eve didn't know Luke. A flicker of fear passed over her features as Luke glared past her, his spectacles flashing, as if he was about to snap completely and lash out at her.

It made Jace feel suddenly – strangely – furious. Furious at Luke for being so oblivious to her fear.

He waved a hand dismissively, bringing Luke back to reality. "Please don't be angry with them," Eve said in sudden supplication. Her eyes were wide and pleading as she tried to explain. "They – well, my father at least…" Her voice trailed off. "My father had never really thought about children, you see. He and my mother… it was an arranged marriage: they never loved each other. They only stayed together because it was the dutiful thing to do, and my mother hated children, so…" She shook her head absently, her hair dancing around her arms like rippling streams of gold. "I suppose my father didn't bother thinking about children – if he wanted any or not. He knew it was impossible, my mother would never agree… So when Valentine came, asking that he have a child – I don't think he expected it would affect him. He knew that I was meant for Valentine in the end, and I don't think he anticipated that he would care for a child that he never wanted in the first place…"

"I thought you said your mom didn't want children." Luke countered. "What made her change her mind?"

Eve looked suddenly, distantly amused. "My mother loved Valentine," she stated simply. "The way that she should have loved my father, and she wanted to please him." Jace couldn't blame her for smiling as she said it; he almost grinned himself at Luke's nauseous expression. "It was common knowledge at the time that Valentine's marriage to Jocelyn was collapsing," explained Eve. "I assume she thought this favor was the way to win his affections."

"And I'm guessing that Valentine used those feelings to his advantage," suggested Jace with a smirk.

"I have no doubt he did." Eve agreed, darkly. "He was entirely single-minded when it came to getting what he wanted."

Luke, forgotten at Jace's side, crossed his arms and coughed. "So what exactly did Valentine want with you? Was he after you or your blood?"

She gave Luke a curious look. "Have you really not guessed?" She glanced at Jace, but he could only stare back at her. He had no idea what Valentine had planned either. Nothing seemed to add up. Eve's eyes, like sapphires flecked with sun-gold, focused on him. Her gaze was as tender as a memory, and her voice softer than velvet. "Valentine used to read me passages from books when I was younger. Did he for you?"

Jace didn't answer.

"I assume he did," she continued quietly. "He read me the beginning of Genesis once. Have you heard it? It is right after the Creation, where God plants the Garden of Eden and puts Adam in it. Almost immediately, though, God realizes that Adam needs a partner – a companion in Eden– and He brings him all the creatures of the earth, hoping to find him such a helper, but there is none suitable for him. So God creates the first woman, Adam's perfect companion in Eden…"

'"And Adam called his wife Eve," Jace quoted, realizing. '"– because she was the mother of all living.'"

She nodded.

Heavy silence filled the room as an unwelcome theory formed in Jace's mind. Luckily, Luke said it out loud before he had to. "You said Valentine wasn't trying to change Jonathan anymore. He'd given up hope that Jonathan would ever be his heir – his warrior," said Luke. His blue eyes widened with understanding. "But to have a Morgenstern warrior would mean that his heir would have to be Jonathan's child, and any child of Jonathan's would inherit the demon-blood also… And Valentine knew that injecting a Demon-child with Angel's blood might kill it…Unless –"

"Unless the Angel's blood was a natural part of that child – part of its genetics," Jace finished for him. "Parents pass their blood onto their children, so if the child's father was Jonathan, who had demon blood, and its mother had Angel blood in her veins…" Jace eyed Eve thoughtfully, his voice trailing off.

"Then the child would have the mixture of both natures that Valentine wanted: with all the powers of both, and none of the negative disadvantages." Luke's face had taken on a slightly green color. "That's why Valentine wanted you, wasn't it? You were meant to bear Jonathan's child, so that Valentine could have his perfect Morgenstern warrior."

Eve met his gaze steadily. "It's true," she said with a hint of warmth in her voice. "I was born to be with Jonathan."

"And you were fine with this?" roared Luke.

Eve gazed up sadly at Luke, and the way the dim light hit her face made her truly look like an angel. It was easy for Jace to imagine that that celestial blood ran in her veins.

"It was not as bad as you think," she whispered, seeing Luke's expression. "Valentine adored me. And Jonathan cared for me also, in his own strange way… I was raised in luxury, given an excellent education, trained by one of the most brilliant Shadowhunters of our day. Not every girl in Idris is given such an opportunity."

Luke slumped into one of the arm chairs. He looked like he desperately needed a coffee. "Alright," he slowly began. "But there are a few things that still need to be explained."

Eve raised an eyebrow delicately in his direction. "Like what?"

"Like why you barely have any Marks," Luke continued, gesturing to the single Rune-scar on Eve's hand. "I can imagine how it is, being raised by Valentine. I find it hard to believe he didn't Mark you excessively as soon as he got the chance."

A thoughtful smile touched the corner of her mouth as she glanced at her bound hands. "If you were to ask Valentine why I have so few Marks, he probably would have told you that it was because I don't need to be excessively Marked: I have one of the Angel's own gifts, one that doesn't require me to be fully Marked like other Nephilim."

"Would that be the truth?" Jace asked with a hard edge to his voice.

"Part of it, yes," she replied. "It is true that I have a gift, but it was not like Valentine to conserve a talent if he could use it for his own personal gain. No, the real reason he didn't like me using my gift was because it reminded him of who he really was rebelling against."

Jace leaned forward in his armchair. "And who would that be?"

She frowned, staring at her feet. "Heaven, of course."

Jace shook his head. He didn't even want to know what her gift was. His mind was already spinning as it was.

Luke sought out his eyes over the chair-back, and Jace saw that they were thinking the same thing: Her story was certainly believable, and everything she said seemed to add up, but how could they really know she was telling the truth until the Silent Brothers went through her memories and proved it?

Jace turned back to Eve. "Do you have any evidence to support your claims? Any way to show us that you truly mean no harm to the Clave?"

She raised her arms to show him her bound hands, the bulky iron ribbon circling her forearms. She sharply pulled her arms apart, effortlessly, with a sound like grating steel as the chain links snapped apart and rattled to the ground. The bits of iron glinted like cutlery, turning over themselves in space before hitting and rebounding off of the library's mosaic floor.

Eve glanced pointedly at the obliterated chain. "If my intention was to kill you," she said flexing her free hands. "You would have both been dead already: I mean you no harm."

Luke gaped at her.

So she was strong, Jace noted, his gold eyes blazing. Werewolves couldn't even break chain like that. And yet, despite the display of mangled metal at her feet, Eve still looked impossibly vulnerable. Like a figurine of some ancient martyr, who had met death while still in the beauty of youth.

A sudden, resounding bell-toll shook the Institute and Eve sprung to her feet, tensely alert. Her drawstring bag slid off her lap and hit the floor with a thud.

"They are here?" she asked finally, running her eyes apprehensively over the vaulted ceiling and book-lined walls.

Jace saw her expression – and was hit by a wave of fierce protectiveness for her: She looked worried.

He tried to force the feeling down, without success.

"Yes," said Luke as he stood. After a pause he added, "The Silent Brothers are healers and the guardians of Bone City, Eve: They won't hurt you unless you force their hand."

Jace picked up her bag for her, and as it turned out, it wasn't very heavy after all.

Eve met Jace's gaze – and looked hastily away, her blue eyes smoldering like icy flames. "I'm aware of what the Silent Brothers do," she told him simply, regaining her composure.

Luke gestured to the door and Eve moved as he directed. Jace trailed behind them, bringing up the rear as they reentered the elevator. Once they reached ground level, the gilded doors slid open, revealing a cowled figure in parchment colored robes: one of the Silent Brothers.

Jace thought Eve might have looked stunned as he pulled back his hood, revealing his face, but she didn't. She observed his stitched mouth and socket-less eyes and scarred face as if they were all too familiar. As of the sight was so common that it bored her.

The robed figure turned his distorted face to them. I am Brother Dominic, he said, inclining his head toward Eve. This must be the girl, he continued in his inaudible voice.

"I am," she stated fearlessly.

Jace shot her a look. She was blazing with a sort of confidence that she had not had before – with a stubborn sort of pride that reminded Jace of someone, though he could not have said who. Was this really the same girl who had been telling them her life story moments ago?

But Brother Dominic didn't seem affected by her display either way. He ushered her ahead to a carriage outside, similar to the one Clary and he had taken when they had gone to the Silent City, and gestured for Jace to follow. Luke seemed excluded from the invitation, but trailed behind them anyway as they filed outside into the rain drenched night. The Silent City, Brother Dominic explained, is not a place for those outside of the Clave.

It was hard to not notice Luke's disapproval as Eve climbed into the cab of the carriage. Though, it was a mystery why he was disapproving at all. This girl was a criminal – guilty by association, Jace told himself. She ought to be punished. But Jace sensed Luke's hesitation, and somehow, identified with it.

There was something about this girl; something that made him wonder if she really did deserve the Clave's wrath. Something that made him want to protect her.

Jace swung up into the carriage without a word. There were about three other people in the carriage already: burly Shadowhunter men decked out in gear and weapons that were glaring in Eve's direction. Not that she seemed to care.

Despite how tiny she was next to them, Eve looked unafraid; although, Jace reminded himself, if she could rip apart an industrial chain with her bare hands, then she probably didn't need to worry about being attacked.

"Jace?" asked a familiar voice.

Jace turned, met Luke's steely blue gaze and raised an eyebrow. "Yeah?"

"Take care of her." Luke said in a gruff voice.

He nodded at Luke once.

With one last look at him, Jace closed the carriage door and settled into his seat, anticipating the bumpy ride ahead.

Tell me what you think... Sorry for the length and slow pace. (I tried to make it not too confusing but some details had to be in there for future reference, so...) ... Next chapter she meets the Inquisitor!

Thank you soooooo much for reading, and check out the prequel as well, if you want...

And review.

Because you are a good person.

Love,
Fishie.