I'm dreaming. I know I'm dreaming because I'm in a tunnel and in reality I don't do tunnels. And down in the tunnel I smell something vile. I can't identify it, but it consumes my whole being and I start to choke, unable to breathe. But then a hand grabs me and pulls me out and I know it's my brother, but his mouth is rotting and his breath is foul. And I scream and scream, but nothing comes out.

I wake in a feverish sweat, the sultry afternoon sun dimming my room, fading to grey. Thoughts of my brother begin to consume my every moment and they sweep me into an overwhelming feeling of blackness and desperate need for Jace. Sometimes, in the middle of the night, my mother knocks on my door, when she sees the light coming from my room, but I ignore her. I just sit up and try hard to stay awake because sleeping isn't safe anymore.

I hear the garage door rumble and I know that my mother is home. Work kept her late tonight so there was no chance I would have been caught out of the house therefore I only have three days of house arrest remaining before my sentence is over and I am free to wander the world again.

A bell tone rings and I jerk in fright. The bells ring again. My phone, the screen flashing blue shadows onto the wall. After a few seconds it stops.

I sit up in bed and wipe sweaty strands of hair from my neck. I reach for my phone on the bedside table and see that the text message is from Jace. It's short and to the point. GET OUT OF BED! I do - but it has nothing to do with his message but more to do with the fact that my bladder will burst if I don't get to the toilet, fast.

I wash my hands and stare at myself in the bathroom mirror. There is no denying I look like shit. The girl staring back at me looks gaunt, pale, her red hair frightful. I turn away, sick. I don't want to see myself.

I leave the bathroom and walk down to the kitchen. My mother is there leaning over the bench, flipping through the pages of a glossy gossip magazine, grocery bags still full sat on the bench beside her. I ignore them and open the fridge, the chill air cool on my skin. I grab the milk and drink straight from the carton, waiting for my mother to reprimand me for bad manners. But she doesn't, she doesn't even lift her head, clearly there is something more interesting in the magazine or she just doesn't care anymore. My money is on the latter. I slam the fridge door shut, bottles clanging inside and start to leave.

'Clarissa?'

I stop, dead, and turn. 'Yes.'

Still she keeps her head down. 'I'm going away for a few days, for work. I leave tomorrow. I'll leave some money for you. And because I don't think for a minute that you'll stay inside this house you're no longer grounded.'

'OK' was all I could think to say. This was the longest conversation I had with my mother in weeks that didn't result in a screaming match that could bring the house down. If you could even call it a conversation. More of a blank exchange of words. But I'll take it - I'm not in the mood for a fight. Not on this night.

I quickly shower to wash the thin layer of dirt off my body from the murky river water, dry myself off and then pull on a black tank dress that's been sitting in the bottom of the washing basket for god knows how long. But it looks and smells clean enough.

Walking back to my room, I stop outside Jonathan's bedroom door. I reach for the handle, but like every other time I never turn it to open. I place my palms on the smooth veneer and close my eyes to imagine him sitting at it his desk pouring over the latest issue of Playboy (which he never made any attempt to hide) or enigmatically playing the latest shoot-em-up game on his X-Box. But as always my thoughts are dragged to that day, one year ago, and to blood splattered walls and my brother crumpled on the floor, his brain blown to pulp.

Pain claws deep into my throat. I feel hot and sickness bloats in my stomach like rotten food. My stomach heaves and I cover my mouth and run to the toilet, making it just in time before the contents empty and swirl into the cream porcelain bowl. I stand on shaking legs. I want to take a scrubbing brush to my mind and scrape those thoughts away forever.

I'm perched on my window sill in flickering candlelight, nerves trembling. My bare toes clench the edge, cold despite the heat. The hot summer night soaks the air like blood. No breeze lifts the lace curtains. The moon set fat and swollen behind sparse grey clouds - not the kind that bring with them the threat of rain. My gaze averts to Jace's bedroom window. The light isn't on and it's too early for him to be in bed already. My heart thumps as I wonder where he is, what he's doing and who he's with. I'm anxious now. I start to sweat. It is utterly ridiculous for me to feel this way. I shouldn't feel this way. I was the one who broke up with him. I have no rights when it comes to Jace Wayland. But that can't stop my heart from racing. Had I made a mistake by not giving him another chance? Before I can torment myself with that thought, a shadow on the grass below catches my eye.

I shuffle to the edge a little further and see Alec Lightwood standing still on the curb out the front of my house. I don't think he's seen me so I remain still and watch him from above. For a while he just stands there, and I can't hear him but I can see his lips move as though he's talking and then he turns and sits down on the edge of the road, his knees at his chest and his head bowed between them. I climb back into my room and head downstairs, past my mother asleep on the couch and quietly open the front door and step out onto the grass.

I'm only a few feet away when Alec's head whips around and he sees me and jumps to his feet. He looks embarrassed, like he's not meant to be here and he jams his fists in his pockets, avoiding meeting my eyes with his.

'Um..Hi, Alec.' I say.

'Clary! I'm sorry. I…I shouldn't be here.' His voice catches in his throat and he starts to walk away.

'Wait, Alec. Don't go.' I plead, but his pace has already quickened and then he disappears around the corner and out of sight.

I hear feet crunching on gravel behind me and I whirl around. Jace is there, wearing his habitual black. I swallow and walk in his direction.

'Was that Alec Lightwood?' he asks.

'Yeah,' I say taking one last look behind me where Alec disappeared.

'Why was he here?'

'I don't know. He ran off before I could ask. Where have you been?'

'I went for a walk?'

'Oh.' I sigh, relieved. 'Alone?'

He laughs. 'Yeah, alone. Why?'

'No reason.'

'Did you think I was with someone? Jealous, are you?' he teases.

'What? Don't be ridiculous. Why would I be jealous?'

'Oh, I don't know. Maybe because the thought of me being with someone else makes your blood boil. Or, maybe it's because you still love me and you still want to be with me and you're just too scared to admit it to yourself.'

'Nope, that's not it.'

'Really?'

'Yes.'

Jace steps closer to me and gently brushes my hair behind my ear with the back of his hand. 'So, if I was to kiss you right now, you'd feel nothing for me?'

I nod, my legs feeling weak.

'Not even just a little,' He was so close now and I bite my bottom lip and close my eyes and shake my head.

He ducks in and kisses me, his hands sliding over my waist, my hips and I shiver. I started to speak, but he pulls away and presses a finger to my lips. 'Nuh-uh. Don't say a fucking word.'

My heart skips and he can't resist a smug smile and he creeps lower, tracing his lips along my collarbone. I slide tense hands into his hair, gripping tight. 'Jace, you really shouldn't-'

'Shut up.'

I couldn't fight. He could do whatever he wanted with me. I had always known it, ever since the very first day we met. Anything that had passed between us since then couldn't change that. I quivered and melted, and with my resistance dissolving, I surrender.

Headlights loom in the distance, growing brighter and brighter until they are upon us and Simon's dirty yellow VW van pulls up to the curb.

He rolls down the window and leans an elbow where the glass disappeared. 'Am I interrupting?'

'Yes,' Jace says, with his lips still on mine.

I brake free and Jace reluctantly lets go. 'Hi.'

'You two back together then?' Simon seems less than impressed.

'Yeah, we are.' Jace answers. I shrug and give a half smile.

'Right. So, I had planned to stage an elaborate kidnapping tonight and steal you away from your prison for a night of teenage fun and frivolity, but as it seems you have other plans.' Simon stares Jace down before he turns a brilliant smile to me.

'Maybe another night?' I say, returning the smile.

'Excellent. How does tomorrow night sound?'

'She's grounded, Lewis, remember?' Jace says.

'A minor detail.'

'Actually, I'm not.' Jace looks at me in surprise. 'Mom is going away for a few days and she lifted my grounding.'

'Perfect.' Simon is beaming. 'Sebastian Verlac is having one of his infamous parties and we've all been invited.'

'Oh, Simon. I'm not interested. Sorry.'

'Excellent. So I'll pick you up at eight.'

It's not a question and before I can protest he flashes that smile again and speeds off.

Jace must be able to see the anguish on my face and he takes my hands in his and squeezes them tight.

'I don't want to go.'

'It will be okay,' he promises. 'I'll be by your side the whole night.'

'Jace, you and Sebastian aren't exactly the best of friends. This just doesn't seem like a good idea.'

'Clary, chances are Sebastian will already be so wasted by the time we get there that he won't even notice me. Besides, you need this. Being with your friends again, it'll be good for you…especially now.'

'Do you think Izzy will be there?'

'I don't know, maybe. You should call her.'

'Yeah, I think I will.'

Then he brushes warm kisses on my forehead, breathless.

So...It's official. I am a FanFiction addict. I've also become quite a 'review whore' so please feel free to indulge my insatiable desire for the little thrills. I'd also like to apologise to anyone waiting for Tessa Banks to update her stories. I've kidnapped her. Yep. She's locked in my garage.