I do not own The Mortal Instruments or the Characters.
They are all property of Cassandra Clare.
All that I take credit for is the twist in the storyline and any original characters that may pop up.


I made a brand of my own poison that I gave to you.

It was the first of my experiments I'm going to put you through.

Now it'll only make you dizzy, sick, and paralyzed.

I think you'll live without the antidote; the ending's a surprise.


There was a very distinct feeling that overtook Clary when the glimmer of hope faded from Jace's eyes and was replaced by the all too familiar look of the rune's hold over him. She wasn't sure what it was called exactly – something infinitely more crippling than pain and loss, but mixed with the fire of determination and rage, as well as a dash of fear to top it all off.

It was like a slap in the face followed by a tender caress; hateful words masked by claims of love and longing.

An impossible task accepted with the knowledge of the very small chance of defeating a greater evil.

"Clary?" He breathed, his eyes opening and closing with long blinks as if he were trying to clear his eyes of the fog that congested his mind. "What's going on?"

Pulling together the best mask that she could manage, Clary gave him a perplexed smile and tilted her head to the side as if she were studying his profile more intently. "You're being the David to my Michael Angelo," she said smoothly, tapping the eraser of the pencil that she held in her hand to the sketchpad that rested on her lap. "You're the one that was complaining about not being my main inspiration, Remember?"

She licked her lips and turned her eyes down to the sketch that she had started only moments before – a suggestion from Jace himself for a cover up of the lapse in time and in his memories – hoping that her concentrated stare and busy hands would help to see the fib that they had concocted.

"Huh," he said slowly, the sigh of a word barely audible despite there only being a few feet between them, "I guess I'm more tired than I thought I was." He shook his head and ran his hands through his perfectly messy hair, "I better go make sure Jon didn't need me for something, okay?"

"Okay," she nodded, giving him the same small, forced smile.

He hopped up quickly, bending down and placing a kiss on the top of her head, a grin taking his lips as he looked over her sketch before hurrying off to find Jonathan in whatever dark shadow he was currently lurking in.

With Jace's departure, Clary's small frame slumped back against the wall of her bedroom, a sudden feeling of exhaustion washing over her as her green eyes fixed on the door that he had just exited. Not an hour ago, she had been pressed against that door with Jace's solid body fit snuggly against hers, his lips on her neck, and his hands exploring her curves and tangling in her hair.

"I'll come back to you," he had promised over and over again as his warm breath washed over her flushed skin.

Even now, her cheeks were tinted a shade too pink and her lips remained swollen.

"Okay," she exhaled, running a hand over her face, cooling her feverish skin and blinking away the bit of moisture at her eyes before they could turn into tears. Using to toe of her boot to push her bedroom door closed, she flipped the pages in her sketchbook until she found the folded piece that was covered in Jace's neatly scrawled instructions and notes to help the Silent Brothers and the Clave solve the conundrum that was Jonathan's little field trip across the globe.

First on the list, understandably, was one of the witches that had 'voodooed the rune' - his word choice on the matter – and who was possibly the best chance of breaking the rune and Jonathan's hold over him for good.

- Violet Devough: 1140 Royal St., New Orleans, LA 70116

Glittery acid dust that melts runes?

She's an experienced warlock, possibly dangerous.

Currently lives with two other warlocks.

All of their meetings take place in St. Louis Cemetery No. 1.

- Breccan Ozias: 601 Dolores St., San Francisco, CA 94110

High Warlock of San Francisco, has the only known portal in Northern California.

He is known to be very particular. If he refuses to help, find the nearest Institute/holy ground and a phone to call the Lightwoods/Magnus/your mom/Luke/Simon/Anyone that can get you out of there.

Breccan has a reputation for having a soft spot for redheads. Flirt if you have to (but don't flirt too much. I do plan on coming back, and I'd hate to have to pick a fight with a warlock as old as him).

He's old and very powerful. Jon won't even be able to think about you without his head exploding if you get into Breccan's good graces.

- When you get home, go straight to the Silent Brothers. I know that they creep you out, but they'll keep you safe and they're our best shot of find a way to fix this bonding situation between Jon and I.

- The Institute is safe, but the chapel is safest. Jon has demon blood in his veins, so he won't be able to step foot on holy ground. If he sends me, Alec will stop me before I can do anything…

- Jon's destinations & what he's after:

New Orleans, Louisiana: Reason Unknown. Group of Warlocks that meet in St. Louis Cemetery. (Violet Devough, Shaelene Woodrow, Samuel Marx, Cambridge Ford.)

San Francisco, California: Yadon's Rein Orchid.

Santa Rosalia, Mexico: Boleite.

Iloilo, Philippians: Pawikan Shell.

Unspecified Location, Austraili: Meeting with "Barbie" (?)

St. Petersburg, Russia: Meeting with Grigori Rasputin (Vampire) to trade for Emerald (?)

Clary,

I wish that I could tell you more information that would actually help, but that's all that I know. Be careful, my brave, reckless girl. There is no point in me coming back if you aren't there to welcome me back to sanity.

Remember, as long as I can dream, I will dream of you.

I love you and I will see you again soon.

- Jace.

I read over the list at least five times, making sure that it's contents were engraved into every fragment of my memory. My fingertips traced over the indents that the ink made in the thick paper and my lips formed his words silently.

As long as I can dream, I will dream of you.

His words echoed in my heart and strengthened my spine.

Folding the list down to a small square, I held it tightly in the palm of my hand and reached up so that the Morgenstern ring that hung around my neck pressed into the warm paper. "I love you," I breathed in a quiet whisper, bringing the ring up and pressing it to my lips, "I'll see you soon."


A/N: This was a SUPER short chapter. I'm sorry! But, I wanted to update before Christmas, as I'll be pretty busy for the next little bit. Good news, though, I'm working on completing the story as we speak so hopefully updates will become more regular. Fingers Crossed!

The addresses used in Jace's list are real addresses. Violet's is the site of a historical home called Lalaurie Mansion in New Orleans that is rumored to be haunted and extremely creepy. Breccan's is the address to the Golden Gate Lutheran Church that has been converted into a home. St. Louis Cemetery No. 1 is also a very beautiful, albeit ubber eerie, cemetery in New Orleans. If you're interested in seeing where exactly things will be going down, feel free to look up the sites J