Jordan stopped outside the door, feeling the hairs on the back of his neck thicken, the beginning of the wolf phase. He was aware he was being watched, and his follower was not being very subtle. He growled deep inside his throat.

"I know you are there. Disappear, if you know what's good for you."

The silence that followed chilled the air around him. Then he heard a quiet rustling just out of ear-shot. Whoever it was had gone.

He focused again on the door. Really, he did not want to do this. A Downworlder breaking into a Shadowhunter house- he knew he would meet someone's accusatory eyes over it. But he was sure the owner of this house wouldn't mind if they knew what he was taking and who it was for. The glass on the giant door was easy to break, although it left a few cuts to his elbow. Climbing through the hole he'd made, he looked around the room for the object. Clary must have it somewhere...

He searched the living room. The humongous cream sofas were littered with various Shadowhunter weapons. Sheathed seraph blades decorated the ochre walls, and silver-tipped arrows lined the skirtings. As if being in a Shadowhunter's house wasn't plucking at his nerves already, it flaunted the various methods of torture. Simon, your taste in girlfriends really do suck, he thought. Although, he knew the scattered death devices were probably Jace's idea. He opened the cabinet nearest to him. More weapons. And leather. And you thought it would be easy.

Jordan searched the rest of the room. Finding nothing, he moved on to the kitchen.

First stop, refridgerator. He hadn't eaten much in the flat- his roommate had stocked their fridge with 'supplies,' so that left about enough space for a piece of sweetcorn. When he opened it, his face fell. The fridge was warm.

Idiot. Try steal from the skeletal fridge of a couple off on their a thief you'd make.

Robbed of his craved feast, he gave the door a generous shove. A dull thud came from the other side of the freezer door.

No... surely not?

He slid it open. Lying at the bottom was an ancient- looking book. It's gold engravings were scraped off, but the delicate marks still remained. The front had a Rune that screamed it was every bit forbidden to a Downworlder like himself. Above the rune, the letters read: 'The Book of Gray.'

Jordan smiled at his success.

"What was that about not being easy?"

He hid the book in his jacket. It's weight and size made it clear that being inconspicuous was not going to be an option. After various attempts to get the book to cooperate, he decided to just simply tuck it under his arm. That way, people would think I came from the library or bookstore or...

The thought was interrupted by the sound of someone walking over glass. Jordan ducked beneath the counter, the book held close to his chest. Quiet footsteps shuffled along the living room carpet,rightfully cautious of it's subject still inside the house. His hackles raised and thickened to wolf fur as he caught the scent of his follower. Vampire.

As the vamp neared, Jordan growled. Muffled at first, then they rose in his throat as it came even closer. Eventually, he couldn't control it. Who was this vampire who thought he could sneak up on him? He hadn't even transformed fully before jumping out from his position under the counter. He dropped the book where he was, intent on catching the vamp. The creature was young, Jordan saw that straight away. It's wide, frightened eyes were still crimson from his Turning. The vampire, looking about mid-twenty in human years, froze on the spot. He didn't know what to do in this situation, faced by a half-turned wolf with full canines and a dangerous set of claws for nails. He was visibly scared.

Jordan took advantage of this, pressing the vampire against the wall with his arm, using enough force to make him submissive.

"Who are you! Who sent you?!" He tried to escape, only to be met with more crushing force on his chest. "Speak!"

"I'm Matt, I'm a vampire!" He struggled, looking terrified by the werewolf's intensely angry brown eyes

"Really? Are you sure you aren't a Faerie?! Because I can't tell!" Jordan yelled. "I'm gonna ask once more. Who sent you?!"

"Th, th, the Princess!" Matt whimpered.

"Am I supposed to know who that is?! What is her name!"

"I, I can't remember! She wore-"

Jordan got impatient.

"I don't care what she wore, you'd better start remembering because when I'm done with you there won't be anything left for the crows!"

"Crows.." He mumbled. The young vampire lit up like he had come across a golden nugget.

"Raven! Princess Raven! She sent me! She was watching your friend, the vampire! Please don't hurt me!" He begged.

Simon. The flat. Oh no. Jordan growled at the cowering vampire.

"Get out," he said. "Now!"

Matt ran so fast, he was a blur even to Jordan's wolf eyes. But Jordan was'nt focused on him anymore. He went to the counter, gathering up the the old book on the floor, and headed out through the way he'd come. He ran down the quiet street, his long strides only touching the ground every second paving block. As he ran, he hoped he would not found what he feared.

Nothing.