CHAPTER 8 – Throwing the First Punch

Joanna woke up with determination burning in her. She'd slept soundly and dreamlessly, thanks to the drink Asher had brought her as she was getting into bed. She could hardly believe he was the same boy who'd kidnapped her. She certainly wasn't the same girl.

Something had changed in her the night before. She'd never wanted anything as much as she wanted now to learn how to be a Shadowhunter now. Never again did she want to be as afraid and helpless as she had been last night. She never wanted anybody to face that, to meet death through a creature of the Shadow World. She couldn't help but think of Alex and Kirsten. If anything, she would embrace her heritage for them.

So she got up and threw her window open, letting the fresh, salty ocean air blow inside as she put on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt from the dresser. She pulled on her boots, still caked with mud from the night before in the forest. She was just grabbing her backpack when there was a polite knock on the door.

"Hey." It was Asher, dressed in his own jeans, a fitted t-shirt that clung to his chest, and boots. His hair was damp and spiky, like he'd just taken a shower. "How are you?" She blinked, almost surprised he was asking.

"I'm fine, thank you," she said. He nodded, looking relieved. "You don't want me to tell Remington about last night, do you?" she asked. He smirked ruefully, scratching the back of his neck, and to her surprise, she laughed. "Its fine, I won't tell on you."

She threw her bag over her shoulder and let him lead her down the halls, pointing out the way to different rooms. She tried to remember as much as she could. Eventually he opened the door of their final destination, at the end of a long hall, and what Joanna saw took her breath away.

"This is the library," he said, but she was already inside. Walls and walls of books, everywhere, with arched ceilings that stretched high above. A curving staircase led up to a second floor, and huge glass windows let in natural light as well as showing off the breathtaking view of a valley of enormous trees below, leading to the ocean.

"Oh wow," Joanna breathed, running a hand over the spines of some of the books on the closest shelf, and heard a chuckle behind her.

"A book lover, I see," Remington said. Jo nodded.

"This is amazing," she said, turning to him.

"We will be doing our lessons in here," he continued, looking out the window and then back at her. "This is where you'll learn the theory and knowledge. Asher will teach you the practical part, the fighting. But in here, all you need is a sharp mind."

Joanna nodded. She could do this. This was her specialty.

She may have been perfectly comfortable among the books, but this was something else entirely. She stared blankly at Asher when he told her to hit him. They were in the training room, standing on the mats in workout clothes. It was strewn with equipment, and the ceilings were just as high as in the library.

"What?" There was no way she was just going to hit him. Joanna shied away from pretty much all types of violence, even verbal.

"C'mon, punch me," Asher said. What kind of training method is this? Swallowing hard, she pulled her fist back.

"Stop," Asher commanded, and she froze. "Rule number one," he said. "Always keep your thumb outside your fist. Otherwise, you'll break it." She fixed her fingers quickly. "Go."

She started to swing, but not two seconds later he told her to stop again and corrected her stance. Then again, fixing her arm. Then her positioning, then her aim. He kept it up until she was so frustrated she wanted to hit him.

"Go." She pulled back and put as much force into it as she could, following through. She connected squarely with his jaw, and his head snapped to the side. She even stumbled forward a bit, catching herself against his chest. He caught her arms, steadying her.

"Oh God, I'm so sorry," she said, horrified. He shook his head, let go of her and massaged his jaw, and then grinned. She stood there, wide-eyed.

"Nice," he said. "That was perfect. How's your hand feel?"

"My hand's fine," she replied. It was true. It only ached a bit, easily ignored. She was shocked at the ease with which the violence had come.

"So you're not totally hopeless," he joked, and she lifted her fist.

"Watch it, or I just might punch you again," she said, but she was smiling too. She could scarcely believe she was making a joke out of this, but it was funny. His grey eyes were bright.

Suddenly, a chiming sounded from her bag. It cut right through the moment, right into Joanna. "My phone," she said on an exhale of breath. Asher stared at her impassively. She turned away from him and walked over to her bag. She pulled it out of the pocket, feeling it buzz in her hand as her voicemail picked up. She quickly hit the green button, and a voice spoke as the caller left a message. The room was so quiet she didn't have to put the phone to her ear to hear him.

"Hey Joanna." There was a pause and Joanna closed her eyes. "Are you with your mom? Kirsten is freaking out, and I'm worried about you. It's probably nothing, but please call one of us back. I love you." Beep.

"Alex," she whispered aloud, and she could hear the pain in her own voice. She shut her mouth fast. It was the second day since she'd "disappeared." She swallowed against the lump in her throat and tucked her phone away, but not before noticing the three new texts and two missed calls from Kirsten. Her eyes stung and she paused when she kneeled next her bag.

"Boyfriend?" Asher asked, a peculiar note in his tone of voice. Joanna nodded mutely, not trusting herself to speak for a moment. "Yes," she said finally, standing and turning to face him. "And Kirsten is my best friend." She had a sinking feeling in her stomach as it dawned on her. Her promise. For a moment she couldn't breathe, remembering the terror sinking into her bones as the demon hissed and circled. She wouldn't bring them into this. She refused. But the only way to really keep them out and safe was… was to sever all contact. Her heart gave a colossal squeeze.

She reached back into her bag, pulling out her phone again. She moved slowly, as if to stall the moment. But she had to do this. Her fingers inevitably pushed the buttons, lifted the phone to her ear. She heard it ring. Once, twice–

"Hello? Joanna?"

"Alex," she said, his name falling out on a breath.

"Joanna? Are you okay?" He sounded so concerned she wanted to cry. She took a deep breath instead, and forced herself to turn her voice brisk.

"I'm fine," she said. "I'm with my mom."

"Oh… okay," he replied, surprised by her tone. "Where are you?"

"Listen Alex," she said, and saying his name like this nearly killed her, "I can't be with you anymore."

"Wh-what?" Alex never stuttered. Joanna wondered if a heart could actually break, if you could feel it fall apart, its pieces cutting up your insides with their jagged glass edges.

"I'm going to be away for a while and I can't do the long distance thing. I'm sorry, Alex. Bye."

"Jo–"

She wondered if you could hear someone else's heart breaking, too.

She snapped the phone shut.