Clary was busy, walking in circles around her kitchen, waiting for Simon, when the buzzer went off. She looked to Jonathan, who drank his coffee like nothing was happening, and he shot her a confused look. It couldn't be Simon, because Simon knew their buzzer only occasionally worked.
Still, if it were, in fact, Simon, Clary would be in big trouble. She was thirsty, still obeying Raphael's suggestion of drinking from Jonathan in alternating days, and today was one of the days she left him alone.
The buzzer went off again, and Jonathan, with a sigh, rose up, going to see who was buzzing. Clary kept her restless pace, until she heard a surprised gasp.
"Oh my, you must be Clary's blood supply!", Izzy chirped, voice clear as day, and Clary ran to the living room, where Jonathan was at the door, watching the bartender girl from Pandemonium in her door, a cardboard box under her arm. "No wonder she chose you, you smell delightful!"
"Who are you?", he asked, with a frown, and Izzy smiled, showing her fangs. "Ah."
"Yes, exactly. Now tell me I can come in, before I take you for a ride. I'd love it, but I don't think you would."
"You can come in.", Jonathan said, still half surprised, and Izzy smiled, coming in while Jonathan frowned. She put the cardboard box in the center table and waved to Clary, and she had to contain herself to not laugh at Jonathan's confused expression, muttering "take me for a ride?".
"Clary, hey! Sorry if I'm late, got a bit zozzled by the guy I was drinking from,", she hummed, and Clary was starting to think she was the youngest person in the room.
"Zozzled?", Clary asked, with a frown. Izzy smiled brightly.
"Yes, a half under man I found on an alley. He won't remember a thing,", she replied, opening the box and revealing several plastic blood bags, like the sort of you saw in a hospital. "These should last you two weeks. Stick them in the freezer and when you need one, pop it on the microwave. I don't recommend putting in the stove, though, it kills the flavor."
Clary went to the box, picking a blood bag and analyzing it. It looked like it was brought straight from a hospital. Izzy huffed, as if reading her mind.
"Raphael didn't steal it, we have a private donation office. What sort of saps do you think we are?"
Clary shrugged, and decided she could use a blood bag already, rising up and going to the kitchen. Izzy followed her, Jonathan just barely behind, listening to the clearly older vampire instruct Clary on how to use the bags when they were fresh (namely, to put the content in a mug and drink it as if any other drink. If she so wanted, she could put a spoonful of blood in other beverages, too, but Clary really prefered it pure.)
She was putting the bags away in the fridge when Jonathan, resting against the doorstep, spoke up.
"How old are you?", he asked, and Izzy smiled, sitting in the counter as Clary put the bags in the freezer, thankful her mother was away for the summer.
"I'm nineteen,", Izzy replied, feet kicking the air as if she were a child. Clary had a feeling it had been a while.
"And how long have you been nineteen?", the smile on Izzy face fell for a second, but it was quickly there again.
"What is this, a bad vampire flick?", she laughed, but when Jonathan didn't reply, Izzy sighed. "I was turned just before what is called 'the Great Depression'. Helped a lot with food costs, let me tell you."
Izzy was old.
"Why don't you tell more, then?", Jonathan asked, apparently taking this all in stride. "I mean, a vampire has got to have a bunch of stories to tell, no?"
"That is the thing, you killjoy, there isn't much to tell.", Izzy shrugged, and stopped to think. "I was born in 1910, and I lived a pretty much quiet life until my parents and younger brother were taken by the last dregs of the flu. Then, me and Alec were out in the streets. We got into a circus act, I used to be the animal trainer's assistant, Alec carried things around. The circus ended up dismantling around 1925, although. A shame, really, because I was pretty good with the whip, and Alec really liked the bow."
Clary blinked. Alec, as in the tall rude boy she had met? She had thought they were similar, but not that they were brother and sister.
"And then?", Jonathan asked, and Izzy shrugged.
"Then we got into speakeasies. I tended the bar, Alec tended the more rowdy clients.", there was a pause, and they let her think. It had been a long while, after all. "Money was starting to get tight, but one day a fried fella told me about this underground money making business, so off I went and became Raphael's supplier. I never told Alec because, well, he wouldn't have let me do it, but he needed his strength."
Clary nodded, and Izzy fingered a bracelet she worse, long stripes of leather snaking their way through her forearms. They did look a bit like whips.
"Of course, nothing is perfect, and when the crisis started, I was mugged when getting out of the meeting place. They stabbed me and took my money, but it was just my luck Raphael smelled my blood and killed them. I begged to him not let me die there, and he turned me instead of being reasonable and taking me to a hospital.", Izzy laughed, but it was bitter. A moment after, however, she giggled. "Not that I'm complaining, of course. Staying alive forever has its advantages, but at the time I was pissed I was going to lose my extra cash."
"And when did Alec find out?", Clary asked, going for another sip of blood, but finding none in her mug. Had she been so interested in Izzy's story she had barely noticed drinking it all?
"Two days later, when I fed on him. To say he was mad is to put it nicely,", Izzy jumped from her spot on the counter, resting against it. "I had to talk him out of going and beating Raphael up, but I think I convinced him with the fact he now only had to buy food for one. Things were hard enough."
Clary had another question - when was Alec turned? - when Simon knocked on the door, and she froze. Her mug had blood on it, and so did her face. She ran to the kitchen sink, starting to frantically wash it, and Izzy simply giggled.
"Time for me to go, hm? I'll see you when again, Clary,", she hummed, and looked to Jonathan. "Be a dear and take grandma to the door, sweetheart."
If the amused chuckle Jonathan gave her was any indication, he didn't mind, going off with her. Clary was breathing with relief, at least until she heard Izzy's soft gasp to Simon.
"Wow, Clary has some fantastic taste! You smell great!", she said, and Clary, looking at the pink-ish water swirling in the sink, listening to Jonathan's barely contained laughter and Simon's confused "what was that", wondered if vampires could drown.
A/N: Some 20s slang were used. Most of them mean "drunk".