The Face of a Demon

Jace and Clary had absconded into a tree as the night progressed, and now, as the moon began to wane, they found themselves curled up against each other. Clary was the one who had found the tree, but Jace was the one who had found the thick limb, thirty feet or so up in the foliage, that covered them both completely. They had seen only one other pair of demons, but they had had nothing to say concerning Clary or Jace, so they passed into the light, snarling and snapping.

"It's almost over," Jace told Clary, tightening his grip on her. "Just a few more hours, then the sun will rise and we'll be free. What should we ask of Jonathan?"

Clary had spent most of the night living in terror that they might be found, and that Jace would meet some horrible fate. Now, with the hope of the sun rising, Clary stirred. "To free us?"

"He won't," Jace said simply, but entertained the idea still. "But he might answer us a question though. What if we ask him to tell us the name of the Great Goddess?"

"He's even less likely to tell us that," Clary snorted. She looked up through the branches and saw the moon, pale and distant, almost completely hidden by a cover clouds. "I wish this night would just end. I hate when he does things like this."

"Things like this?" Jace asked sarcastically. "As to the nice things he does?"

Clary smiled. "He makes it into a game, and it's so much worse."

"Yes," Jace murmured, "but it's almost over now, so don't think much of it."

"Who do you think it is?" Clary said suddenly. "The demon, I mean. You heard those other demons, they call her mother, too."

"I feel like I've heard of her somewhere," Jace mused. "I know I have. It's just putting a name to a face, you know?"

Clary didn't really know, but she thought she heard a snapping sound, and she raised her hand, silencing Jace. Another snapping and popping, and Clary felt her stomach drop out as she saw Jonathan enter the clearing below the tree. He looked around himself, at each of the trees, as the leaves on the ground, and then up at the moon. Bathed in the pale light, he looked dead but for his dark eyes. Clary shuddered against her will, and Jace clamped his arms around her. They were so close…

"Seek, seek," Jonathan ordered, and his horrible hell hound trailed alongside him, snuffling at the ground. It passed here and there, a little confused by the diluted scent, mulling around a tree they had tried to climb before. Jonathan watched the dog, disinterested.

"What have we here?" he asked, eyeing a cluster of leaves that had been scattered all around. He sank down, inspecting the ground closer. Slowly, to the shadowhunter's horror, his eyes moved from the leaves to the tree, staring at the back. It had been unharmed by their climb, but Jace was worried Jonathan could see something else. "Over here, idiot!" Jonathan snapped at the dog.

It came over obligingly, sniffing at the ground, but whined in confusion. "You're useless," Jonathan sighed, and then stood up. "I know you're here, somewhere, sister. I'm going to find you, and when I do…it'll be my turn for a bit of a reward."

He hasn't found us yet, Clary reminded herself. He just knows we've been here. The sun is almost risen, the sky is turning blue…it's almost over.

"Which tree, Jace?" Jonathan asked, louder than before, now looking up into the canopy. "Where did you and my sister tuck yourselves away?"

Clary reached out for Jace, but, horrified, realized he had moved. For a single moment, she thought Jace had abandoned her, but then she saw him, testing a branch a few feet away. When he saw her looking, he pressed his finger to his lips, pointed to himself, and then nodded to the tree.

No, Jace-

Jace launched himself, cat-like from his branch and landed on the next one, a shower of leaving tumbling to the earth.

Below them, Jonathan gave a cry of victory and followed the sound of Jace's escape. "Running won't get you anywhere now!"

He's going to sacrifice himself, Clary thought in horror. He's going to let Jonathan catch him so I can go free.

Jace lowered himself another branch, purposefully making noise, and Clary groaned inwardly as Jonathan chased after him. She saw him swing from branch to branch, his hands moving easily, but she knew it didn't matter; in the end, Jace was going to let Jonathan catch him. Jonathan unsheathed a set of long knives, twirling them playfully as he stalked around the roots of the trees.

"Come on down," Jonathan called. "If you give in now, it'll be easier on both of you. I promise, Clary, I'll make sure you like it. And Jace…I won't let my demons be too cruel."

Jace crouched on a branch, looking like he was going to drop down to the ground when Clary suddenly gave a cry, drawing Jonathan's attention. Jace's face snapped around to Clary, looking furious, but she had unattached herself from the trunk of the tree and was lowering herself bit by bit, down to the ground. Horrified, Jace jumped to a lower branch, and Jonathan attention returned to him.

No, Jace, I can't let you do this, thought Clary, and she began scrambling down the branches, not caring how many she hit as she went. I've been hiding behind you for too long.

Jace was moving faster now, trying to beat Clary to ground and Jonathan, but Clary, throwing caution to the wind, jumped out of the tree and crashed to the earth. By the time she lifted her face, Jonathan was standing before her, smiling. Jace had stopped moving, but she knew he would be watching like a hawk. Jonathan placed the tip of the blade under her chin and lifted her face up with it.

"Hello, little sister," Jonathan said, enjoying the sight of her trembling. "Tell me, where is your lover?"

Clary swallowed. "He's not here."

"Liar," Jonathan said politely. "He's here somewhere, but that's beside the point. I don't really care about Jace, not so long as I have you."

Stay where you are, Jace, just stay where you are. Clary knew that as long as Jace could go free, then Jonathan couldn't use him against her. Please, just stay.

It seemed that Jace had caught some of her pleading, and Clary thought maybe the rune that bound her to him was beginning to strengthen, because he remained silently in his tree. Jonathan, however, glanced around, eyes seeking the foliage for a sign of gold. Dissatisfied with the silence around them, he forced Clary to stand at the point of his sword, his eyes thoughtful.

"Your lover is keeping awfully quiet about all this," Jonathan pointed out. "I'm surprised with Jace. I thought he cared for your well being more than this…but then, that's the difference between him and me. I was born a king, with the blood of a leader in me, and he was born a useless, unloved bastard by his pathetic mother."

Clary knew he was trying to infuriate Jace, get him to come down, but Clary kept her voice calm as she said, "Unloved? There is only one man here who is unloved, and we both know who that is."

Jonathan's gaze snapped around to her. "So, you still choose to love your Angel Boy over me? You still forsake me and all the world I could give you for him?" Though he said it with a straight face, there was something like sadness in his eyes, and it stirred in Clary a sharp, undeniable grief.

"Jonathan…please, let me love you as I can. You are my brother, and you always will be." Clary took a step toward him and felt the tip of the sword poke her throat just above her collar bone. "Jonathan, I will love you, but you have to let me love as I choose."

There was an undertone of anger that belied his next words. "But what about how I choose? What makes your way of loving me so right, and my way of loving you so wrong? What of the ancient cultures, the Romans, the Egyptians, the Greeks and countless others who married within their own family? Was there something so wrong with them?"

"I'm not saying it's wrong," Clary began, but he had twisted her words and she couldn't get them back. "I'm saying that I can only love you in one way-"

"And so can I!" Jonathan cried. "But why can't you let me?"

She's poisoned you against me, Jonathan, can't you see that? "Because that part of my heart is taken."

It had been the wrong thing to say, and Clary saw at once that whatever feelings had passed between them, they were gone now. Jonathan's face darkened perceptibly. "So be it, Clary. Jace claimed that part of your heart, but I will have it, by force if I must."

"Jonathan, please," Clary whispered, and saw his pale face turn red under the light of rising sun. "Jonathan, just let me-"

"No," he spat, and flicking his sword aside, he swiped his hand forward, grasping a hunk of her hair and tugging her to him. "I would have given you everything, everything, but if this is your choice, I shall take it all instead."

"Jonathan, I-"

"Come out of the trees, Jace," Jonathan called, his eyes never leaving Clary's face. "You've won the right to ask me one favor. You, at least, have evaded my grasp for all of the night."

A moment later, Jace landed on the ground before them, his eyes on Clary. "Jonathan, let her go and take me instead."

"That's not going to happen," Jonathan answered swiftly.

"Then take us both."

"Clarissa will pay the penalty alone," he said, his eyes glowing with anticipation. "Come, we'll return to the castle."

Jace moved to take Clary, but Jonathan merely switched his grip to her arm and forced her to walk before him. As they passed through the woods, the shapes of demons pressed forward, snuffling and hissing at the sight of their escaped prey. When they had finally left the forest, the sun had risen above the line of the trees and the grounds were covered in that strange pale light of the dead sun. Jonathan marched to the steps of the castle and stood there, looking down upon his court as they gathered. Jace kept trying to catch Clary's eye, but she refused to look at him, unable to bring herself to see him because she knew how much it would hurt her to know that he would be leaving and she would be staying. The sun rose steadily higher by the time the rest of the court had arrived.

"Our foxes," he said, pushing Clary forward. "Only one of the cunning, little beasts was caught in my trap, I'm afraid. One of them will go free. Jace, you may ask one thing of me, I will, however, tell you that I will not free Clary from her fate, nor allow you to take her place."

Jace glowered and he noticed a few demons looking disappointed he had escaped their grasp. "I want a stele."

Jonathan turned, looking surprised. "That's all? I could have given you your freedom, I could have made you a lord, you could have had anything."

Jace's face remained impassive. "I would have had to leave Clary, and I had no intention of doing that."

Jonathan shrugged, unconcerned. "So be it. I will give you a stele and you may use it to your heart's content." Jace nodded, and Jonathan returned his attention to the crowd. "This fox, though," he said, giving Clary a sharp shake, "this one was caught, and as such, she is for me. Now, what shall we have, my lords and ladies?"

There was a resounding hissing and snarling, and a few drew closer, their eyes raking her form. Clary, in Jonathan's grasp couldn't help but pull back just a little, and she heard him laugh as she cowered. "We shall have a grand dinner this evening to celebrate, and little Clarissa shall be my guest of honor."

That evening, Clary found herself bound up in chain, one end wrapped about her wrist, the other in Jonathan's hand. As he ate, he jerked the chain every now and then, sending her toppling to the ground before him. Every time he did this, the demons about him would laugh and cheer as if he were being immensely amusing. Clary, for her part, kept her face impassive and her eyes bland and unseeing; she wasn't going to let fear or anger get the better of her.

"Tell me, Clary," Jonathan said, dragging her toward him so she had to stand by his side. "Tell me, does this evening of dancing and music please you?"

Clary glanced around. Nearest her was a clump of demons, tearing flesh from a still living goat; it bleated pitifully and Clary felt her stomach turn. Across the hall, a few of the demons in women's bodies were dancing provocatively, lifting their skirts and lowering their bodices. The demons in male bodies were looking on them with hungry eyes, preparing to pounce. Still more demons were chasing a terrified looking sheep that was leaking blood from a gaping wound one of the beasts had dealt it. It stumbled and they fell upon it, and all Clary saw was the blood and furry flesh as they tore it apart.

"Well, I appreciate the lack of human sacrifice."

Jonathan raised an eyebrow. "Yes, well, such things like that are only on High Days. You don't go wasting good flesh for nothing." As he spoke, Jonathan ran a hand up Clary arm. "What would you do, Clary, if I no longer offered you my protection? What would you do if I gave you to my demons?"

Clary swallowed. "In some way, Jonathan, I would prefer it."

"Oh?"

"You're my brother," said Clary, "and it hurts me to see you like this."

Jonathan grinned indulgently. "How would you prefer to see me, little sister?"

"As you really are," said Clary, and then Jonathan tugged her forward until she was bent over him, looking down into his black eyes.

"You can see me just fine," Jonathan smirked, and with his free hand, reached up and stroked the hair off her face. "And I you…but then, I've always seen you, Clary. You were always the only thing I ever saw, the only thing I ever wanted."

"I'm not, though," said Clary, her voice shaking just a little as she stared into his dark gaze. "I'm not the thing Jonathan wants, I'm the thing you want."

"Clary, I must confess, I have no idea what you mean," chuckled Jonathan, and then released his tight grip on her chain, allowing the freedom to move back a little. "I am Jonathan."

Don't push him, don't push him, her mind warned her. He's liable to turn on you.

…Let him…another voice whispered, and Clary bit her lip. Force the demon to show itself.

"But you're not," Clary said, gathering up her courage. "You're not my brother. You're some demon, using him."

"Don't be ridiculous," Jonathan snorted, and he leaned back in his seat, surveying Clary with interest. "I am your brother, I always have been; I remember growing up with you, spending summers at manor houses, playing in the fields, painting, reading…I am Jonathan."

"Jonathan is there somewhere, but you're not him," Clary said firmly.

Again, Jonathan eyed her, this time more shrewdly, as if he were inspecting her for the first time. After a beat, he frowned; apparently, he didn't like what he saw. "Oh, I'm him, Clary, and I can prove it to you because I have other memories…memories only Jonathan Morgenstern would have."

Clary watched Jonathan rise up and tower over her, looking so much like her father had. "You're not my brother," was all Clary said.

"But I remember so well," Jonathan purred, prowling forward, forcing Clary to take steps back into the center of the room. All around her, the demons had grown silent, as if they knew this was an important moment. "I remember us together, Clary. The summer it rained for a week straight, and you and I had to sit indoors."

It's just the demon looking into his memories. It knows everything he does.

"Or, the time I stole your favorite doll, you know, the one with the face made of porcelain, and you cried and cried and begged me not to hurt it." Jonathan smiled sweetly at her. "And I didn't."

"Memories don't prove anything!" Clary said swiftly and she lifted her chin in challenge. "It only means you can read minds."

"Reading minds, what dream is this?" Jonathan's eyes had narrowed, and now he was stalking toward her like an animal. "No, Clary, this is all me. This is all Jonathan."

Oh, Jace, what I wouldn't give for you to be here now, Clary thought, but knew he was safer where he was. "Having memories doesn't mean anything; you feel nothing. No love, no happiness, no fear, no nothing; you're an empty beast, feeding off my brother."

"That's not very nice," Jonathan said, looking contrite. He seemed genuinely surprised that Clary had had the nerve to snap back at him. "And, also not true, because I feel things, Clary. Oh, yes, I feel things…like the things I felt all those nights so long ago…the nights when I would come for you."

Clary, who had been preparing another sharp remark felt her breath sputter out of her at those words. She stared at him, half in terror, half in shock that he would speak so openly of his crimes. Her heart started to beat a frantic tempo and she wished more than ever that she had Jace to hide with.

But you don't have Jace. You only have you, and it's you who will have to meet him now. Clary clenched her teeth to stop them from chattering.

Jonathan sensed his victory and he moved suddenly, wrapping Clary in a one armed embrace, holding her chin up so she had to look into his eyes with the other. "Yes, I remember those nights so well. You always looked so small, and so delicate when I'd come for you…and so surprised too. Like you thought it was all just some bad dream." Jonathan showed his teeth in a grin and all the demons around them pressed closer. Clary tried to tug her hand free of the chain, but Jonathan held tight. "I always wondered what you were thinking because I always thought you must-you must-have known I'd be coming for you, and you must have known what I'd want, and still, you just sat there."

The demon is lashing back at you, but don't let it scare you, don't let it in! Clary forced her back straighter.

"You just looked like an angel, Clary, sitting there in a white night gown, your hair, sprayed out around you. How did you expect me to say no?" Jonathan bent his head and kissed the top of her hair lovingly. "At first, you'd fight it, cry and whine and tell me not to, that it was wrong, but I knew you wanted it as much as me."

Clary could feel herself shaking against her will now, and her memories of all those nights assailed her. She wanted to hide, she wanted to hide her face and her shame and guilt and never look back, but Jonathan grip was firm.

"You'd try to push me away." This seemed amusing to Jonathan who patted her back. "And sometimes, I'm sad to admit, I had to be rather rough with you, didn't I? Of course, I meant none of it; I always felt so terrible the next morning when I saw you with those bruises, but then, I enjoyed the struggle almost as much as the act itself."

Don't respond, don't let it know you're listening. Think of Jace, think of Jace holding you and telling you how much he loves you. Think of Isabelle and Alec and Max. Think of little Max fitting snugly in your arms like your own little boy-

"All the fighting, all the struggling, and for what?" Jonathan pulled back to look into Clary's face with a knowing smile. "The moment I kissed you, you stopped. You just gave in, because you wanted it. Then, I'd kiss you more, and you'd just let me push you back onto the bed, take off that little-girl white night gown, and join you. And you liked it. And you know why?" Jonathan smirked. "Because you loved me."

Clary felt her lip trembling.

"Don't cry, Clary. I can't stand to see you cry," Jonathan admonished. He spun her away from him, so her back was pressed against his chest and she had to look out on the court full of demons. He kissed the back of her neck and it was like a jolt that ran the length of her body, waking her mind up.

"It wasn't love," Clary whispered. "Whatever you think it was, it wasn't love."

Jonathan paused in his kissing, and said against her neck, in a very cold voice, "What?"

Don't be afraid any more; don't be afraid of that thing because it's not Jonathan. It's just a demon, and you're a shadowhunter, and you're not afraid of demons. "I said it wasn't love. You, a filthy, parasitic, empty demon could never love anything! You just feed off of other people, like what you're doing right now to my brother. You're just using him, living in him, but I don't care, because I'm not afraid of you anymore."

Jonathan's breath hissed, but Clary kept going, words pouring out her before she could stop it. "Whatever you are, whoever you are, you're not my brother, you're just a demon. And I'm not afraid of demons. So you can hiss at me and snarl at me all you like, but know this, I love my brother. I love my brother and I'm going to make you rue the day you tried to steal him from my family."

Behind her, Jonathan straightened up with a strange clicking noise, like bones popping in their joints. "You can wear Jonathan's face, and you can use his memories, and you can make him do things to me, but I don't care, because it's not him! I know my brother is there somewhere, I know you've trapped him in the dark, but I'm not leaving him to you. I won't abandon Jonathan.

"And know this too, demoness. I do have powers, powers from the Angel, and I swear on that Angel that before I die, I will see you destroyed, and I will see my brother freed from you, and your filthy armies of demons will run from me and my power." Jonathan ground his teeth together behind her. "So say what you will, and do as you wish, but I'm here now, and I'm not going to let you win. I won't leave my brother to the darkness."

Clary's final breath shuddered out of her, like she had to have one final word. "I love Jonathan, and I won't let you have him."

Her speech was met with much silence from the onlookers. The demons seemed to be waiting to see how Jonathan would take her words, and she felt his hands on her shaking with a tremor. It was a long time before he spoke, but when he did, he had to clear his throat first, and even then, his voice was raspy and dry, like he was just recovering from a terrible cough.

"Let me see if I understand you correctly, Clary," Jonathan said. "You think that I am, in reality, a demon, wearing your brother's body like some disguise, and I've trapped the real Jonathan, his soul, if you will, deep down inside me? And not only that, I'm feeding off his memories and emotions, like some parasitic worm, while I plot my dominance of this mortal world?"

Clary licked her lips. "Yes, that is what I believe."

"Well, then, Clary," said Jonathan, and he spun her around to face him, "you'd be absolutely right."

The face before Clary was not Jonathan, it wasn't even human. It was some horrible travesty of a human face, a poorly crafted mask, a nightmare. His cheek bones had been dislocated and shifted up to the top of his face, seemingly crushing his eyes in their sockets. That might have explained why his eyes were now completely black and bulging from their sockets. His mouth was hanging freely, and a long black tongue curled in and out with each breath. He smiled and razor sharp teeth descended. His neck snapped in an odd way, causing his head to dangle at an angle, and then his tongue lashed out and licked her face.

Run, was the only thought in Clary's mind. As if she were possessed, Clary jerked hard on the chain, and Jonathan's hands, now deformed and bent, hanging limply on arms too long for his frame, released it with a crack. Run! Clary thought again, and she swung the chain up like a whip. It caught Jonathan square in the center of his face and his head snapped back. Clary, terrified and disgusted, fled.

Run, run, run! Get to the room, get to the room and get Jace. Clary was sprinting full out up stair wells, down the halls, panting. Get Jace, get Jace! Get him, get food and get the stele.

Behind her, she heard snarling and a voice screaming, and she knew Jonathan was chasing her, but she had almost reached the king's chambers, and her goal was in sight. Clary threw open the doors and they banged off the walls, but she made like a shot into the king's privy chamber where Jace was lounging against the hearth, using the stele Jonathan had given him to clean his nails. He saw the state Clary was in and barely got a sentence out of his mouth.

"Clary, what in the name of the Angel-"

"Give me the stele!" Clary ordered, and without waiting tore it from his grasp. Jace went to give her a shake, but she threw him off. "Open, open!" she cried while she cut a rune of her own making into the chain binding Jace.

"What happened?" Jace asked, but Clary just pulled him unceremoniously to his feet, shoving him in the direction of the table.

"Get the food, get the water, and go to the queen's chamber. Now!" When Jace just stared at her, Clary gave him a solid slap in the back of the head. "Go!"

Jace stumbled uncertainly over to the table and began gathering up the remains of his meal as quickly as he could. By the time he got into the main chamber, Clary was at the door, locking it with the same rune she had used on her own door months ago. This time, though, the rune was much larger, thicker, and seemed to glow much stronger.

"Clary, what's going on?" Jace demanded as Clary ran to his side and then down the small side hall to the queen's chamber. As soon as Jace was through the door, she closed it and slashed a rune into it too.

"Get blankets and pillows and anything else and pile them over by the fire!" Clary ordered, testing the door. "Jonathan's coming."

"He's coming?" Jace asked, confused. "What do you mean, he's coming?"

Clary didn't answer, but instead began prowling around by the fire, as if looking for the right spot. She must have found it because she called over to Jace, "Here, come here! Just bring everything right here and sit down!"

Jace dropped the blankets and food to the ground and then caught her wrist. "Clarissa Herondale, tell me, what happened?"

Clary opened her mouth just as a horrible, hair-raising scream, echoed from below and up to their room. "Jonathan," Clary whispered, pushed Jace down, and then scrambled for her stele.

Jace watched, almost impressed, as Clary lifted the stele above her head, muttered an oath to the Angel, and then drove it down into the floor. She carved into the stone the locking rune, and he saw it flash bright white, and then fade to a glowing yellow. To his astonishment, Clary repeated it again and again, four times, one at every point of the compass. Then, as if it weren't enough, she began tracing more runes between each of the four; runes of protection, of strength, of power, and of silence. He had just opened his mouth to ask again what had happened, when he heard furious pounding on the door to the king's chamber, and Clary, looking almost obsessed, drove the tip of the stele one last time into the north rune and began tracing a circle through the runes. When she finished, she and Jace sat in a glowing circle, a wall of energy rising up around them, looking almost like a slow waterfall.

Clary scrambled backward as they heard the door outside burst open and she threw herself against Jace. It was only then, as he held her, that Jace was hit with the wave of terror she was feeling. His heart hammered unnaturally and he felt the urge to have a weapon in his hand like never before. He was scared senseless, and as whatever was on the other side of their door started pounding on it, Jace went cold.

"What is it?" he asked.

"I-I tried to force the demon to show itself," Clary whispered against Jace. "I told it I wasn't afraid, and that I was going to free my brother from it."

"And what happened?" Jace thought he knew where this was going.

Clary swallowed down a cry of terror as the door to the queen's chamber burst off its hinges. "It showed itself."

Jace looked up and saw only dark shadows stretching out from the hall. When he glanced down on Clary, she was hiding her face in his chest, muttering a string of curses and prayers, all at once. He stroked her hair, trying to reassure her it was going to be okay, but words failed him when he looked up again and saw something emerging from the shadows of the hallway.

Though its face was disfigured and its body moved in a jerky motion, like it wasn't used to moving on two, long limbs, it was Jonathan. He stumbled into the room, his head swaying on his bent, crooked neck, his tongue tasting the air, and his eyes pitch black. He saw the two curled up on the floor and lunged at them, his arms outstretched before him; Jace was horrified to see that his arms were hanging loosely in the joints and his hands were clawed. Jonathan hit the wall of runes Clary had made and was thrown backward. He landed on his side, but then lurched onto all fours and began clambering around the circle, flicking his tongue at the wall, looking for a weak spot. Jace could see his mouth moving, forming words, but he couldn't hear them through the wall; Clary's runes had done the trick.

Jonathan circled them for more than three hours, and all the time, Clary didn't lift her head from Jace's chest. Jace had down his best to ignore the demon boy, and had instead bowed his head over Clary and sung to her. Towards the end, though, Jace looked up and saw that Jonathan was standing on two legs once more; before his eyes, Jonathan began twisting and wrenching, pushing his bones back into place, mending the torn muscles. He found Jace's eyes and screamed something, something that looked suspiciously like Clary's name. Jace stared back defiantly, refusing to let the demon scare him, but as he sat there, watching Jonathan, he saw something through the wall of energy that might at first have been a trick of the eye. He blinked and shook his head once, and when he looked closer, there was no mistaking it.

As Jonathan stood in the moonlight, snarling and howling, Jace saw small tears, pure as crystals, trickling down his face.