The hard box of Ridley's pointe shoe slid smoothly underneath her into the middle of the wood floor of the studio. Although she was alone, she looked around behind her before raising up onto her toes. After a few moments of dancing in her solitude, she let herself go. She was no longer just moving through the motions, but truly letting herself feel it. Her heart connecting with her feet and hands, letting her mind run wild.

She had been practicing for hours, her leg muscles aching underneath her. But she wasn't stopping. She pushed herself harder. Replaying her favorite songs over and over. The music blaring through her ears, drowning out the thoughts that had earlier taken her over. Finally, she had found some clarity and time to release some pent up aggression.

Her mind was emptying itself onto the floor. Her pointe shoes trampling over all the thoughts that were weighing her down. She was twirling through her pirouettes effortlessly. Weightlessness enveloped her. She was almost completely gone when she heard the door open. She froze.

"Don't stop on my account."

Ridley turned around to see Jace standing in the doorway. She let out a loud sigh and walked toward the rosin box in the back corner. "I don't like to be watched." Her tone was harsh. "What do you want?" Her eyes locked with his, searching them curiously as she dipped the toe of her left shoe into the yellowish powder.

"I heard the music. I was intrigued."

"Well, by all means, please stay and ruin my concentration. It's not like I have an extremely important audition in less than a week." She glared at him mercilessly, her lips pursed together.

Jace turned to walk out, but then turned back around and stared at her. "You do realize that there will be someone watching you when you go to that audition. That someone every minute of that day will be critiquing your ever move. And you are worried about me? You, my dear, are one confusing creature. But I will leave you to it. Good luck." And with that, he disappeared through the door letting it slam shut behind him.

She blinked her eyes as if snapping herself back to reality. Jace... She attempted to call after him, but the sound wouldn't pass through her lips. With a hand on her forehead, she slid down to the hard wood floor. Why did I just do that? Her temper had elevated so fast and so quick. It was almost as if she left her body and watched herself and Jace converse. She seemed to have no control over her tongue.

The door to Jace's room was locked. Ridley knocked lightly, the door opening before her third knock. She opened her mouth to speak, but before she could get anything out, he cut her off.

"You know I don't really like these teasing games of yours." He raised an eyebrow down at her and waited for her to respond.

"All I can say is I'm sorry."

His body shifted to the side, leaving her room to enter. With a slight hesitation, she reluctantly accepted his invitation and slid in past him. His room was simple just like hers which surprised her considering the amount of time he had been living there.

Not wanting to rehash the events from the studio that had happened merely an hour before, he turned around to face her, his eyes shimmering in the low light. "Are you hungry?"

"Well, isn't this just romantic," she joked before stuffing her mouth full of a hot dog from Gray's Papaya. Her legs crossed in front of her, perching herself indian-style on the hard bench somewhere deep in the heart of Central Park. With a hand covering her overly filled mouth, her shoulders vibrated with inaudible laughter.

Jace stared at her in awe. Not only was she actually laughing, somewhat, but he had never seen a girl demolish a hot dog that fast. And she still had a few more to go. His lips curled into a sly smile and he watched her from the corner of his eye. There was a small spot of mustard above her thin lips that was left unnoticed. Slowly, he grazed her cheek softly as he used his thumb to wipe the yellow away.

His hand lingered, fingertips lightly skimming her skin. Their eyes locked as he lowered his face to hers, his lips gently grazing her own. Sparks flew from their lips as they met. Her fingers tangling up in his golden waves, her mind fading into space. His hands tracing the scars on the small of her back.

The world began to spin around her as they kissed. But once again, it took her somewhere else. It is just a dream, she thought carelessly as the other dimension unfolded around her. It wasn't the same as the last time she kissed him though.

This was different. They were in a bedroom. A decadently decorated one, half of the room painted a soft blue while the other was a pale pink. Her eyes wandered around, fingers tracing over a white crib with lilac bedding. Suddenly, there was a loud bang and Jace reached for her as she fell to the floor. Her hands gripped her stomach, which she now noticed to be very round. Her eyes fluttering closed as Jace pulled her to him and held her close. He was shaking her, begging for her to come back and when she did, her breathing became more rapid at the sight of blood. A lot of blood.

Her eyes flashed open and she pulled back from him. Her hands banging down on the bench for stability. She was silently searching the area around her, her heart beating fast. It was a dream, just a dream.

"Ridley, are you okay?" His hands were now placed on her shoulders, trying to turn her around to him. "You are here. In Central Park. With me." He pulled her head to his shoulder, twirling his fingers in her bright blonde curls, hushing her as if she were a small scared child.

Tears began to fill her dark brown eyes. "What is wrong with me?"

"What are you talking about?" Jace lightly pushed her back so he could examine her face. "Where did you go?"

She shook her head, realizing that she couldn't tell him. He would think I am crazy. Quickly, she wiped her eyes and smiled. "Nothing!"

He stared at her with a raised eyebrow. "You really had me worried."

"Oh, please. I am sure you don't get that invested in the girls that live in the Institute."

He rolled his eyes. "Considering that not many live there. No, I do not. And that has nothing to do with it. I -" He cut himself off and took a bite of his hot dog in hopes of deflecting the conversation.

"You what?" She was oddly curious of what he had started to say, but slightly nervous about hearing the rest.

But Jace didn't respond with words, just a wink as he chewed. Feeling defeated, she continued to finish her hot dog as well.

The walk back to the Institute was not nearly as cold as the night before. Ridley wondered if that was because of the dream. Both times that this had happened so far, her body temperature had rose quite a bit. Underneath the tough girl act, she really wished she could tell Jace what she had seen. But she didn't even know what it meant and she knew he would probably think that she was half nuts... or completely nuts. And she didn't want that either.

He reached down and took ahold of her hand. Together they walked, with fingers intertwined, back to the Institute. Jace made sure to take her the long way, showing off the city lights to her as the sun made its way down switching places with the moon. A group vampires passed them on the sidewalk, staring them down. But Jace and Ridley didn't even pay them any attention, they were lost in their own little world.

Back at the Institute, Roslyn sat alone in the library. She searched through book after book in the dim light, just trying to find anything that could explain Ridley's behavior. Roslyn knew some of what her sister had been dealing with, mostly just the horrific dreams she had had before they arrived in New York and the undeniable extra strength she had acquired. There had to be viable excuse for the changes.

As she reached on tip-toe for The History of Demonic Curses, a leather journal fell to the ground. It was small with worn brown skin and aged pages. Roslyn opened it carefully, gently scanning the weak parchment not knowing who the writer was. So many Shadowhunters had passed through this Institute since it had been built that this journal could have been left at any point in time.

Her eyes stopped on a familiar date. October 21st, 1991. Ridley's birthday. There was a short entry scrawled across the page.

October 21, 1991

Daphne gave birth to the child this morning. She was unnervingly beautiful with pale skin and hair. And those eyes. Harsh, dark eyes. I do believe that my experiments have worked. She looks to be Jonathan's twin in female form.

Roslyn gasped as the journal fell to the floor. Her eyes wide, she picked it up hastily and ran to her room in search of her phone. She had to find her sister. An array of questions were running through her mind.

Is this real?

Are they really talking about Ridley?

What did they do to her?