Disclaimer: World belongs to Cassandra Clare.
Chapter IV
I walked into my house and went up stairs into my bedroom, I rubbed my eyes and thought of my next course of action. I wondered who I could ask for help and if I would ever find out why Ebony left. I had a strange yearning to talk to my mom, even if I couldn't give her details at least I could unload some of this information on someone. When I made my way downstairs, I saw that my mom was cleaning. Odd since that was normally my job but I sensed that she was probably begin nice to me since Ebony left. She picked up a pieces of paper on one of the selves and was about to throw it in the bin next to her when she froze looking at it.
"Hey mom, I was wondering if we could talk?" I got no response. Her gaze was fixed on the paper and when I glanced down I saw that there was a note written in calligraphy.
"Oh god, it was only a matter of time. I knew it, I knew it…" she mumbled to herself.
I wrestled the note out of my moms hand and smoothed it out with my palm.
I Found you… The Clave is not tolerated here, Nephilim beware. You and you're mother are not safe.
A few days ago I would have thought that this was a sick joke and laughed it off. But so many things were different at this moment from that carefree parallel universe. First off my mom had lost all the color in her face, making her hair and grey eyes stand out from the rest of her face. Too many strange things had happened in the last week for anything to be considered a coincidence anymore. So I did the only reasonable thing that a emotional teenager with family issues would do, I stood up and shook my mom out of her shock and yelled at her.
"Do you know what's going on?"
"Harley, give me minute," she muttered getting loose from my grip. She pinched the bridge of her nose and was breathing deeply.
"No! Not until you tell me why the hell weird stuff keeps happening, and why you didn't tell me about this weird stuff before!" I kept yelling.
"Harley, if you give me minute to get something upstairs I will explain everything, ok?" she said calmly. This was probably her most frustrating angle of attack in a argument, when I yelled she'd be as calm as a therapist on Vicodin. I was about to yell at her some more but thought better of it, I probably would waste more time before having her answer some of my questions. She walked up stairs and I went to go sit at the dining room table. I thought about eating a bagel but my mom might think that I wasn't angry anymore. A few minutes later I heard her soft footsteps climbing back down the stairs and she walked into the kitchen with a dusty box in her hands. She put the box on the table and sat down.
"You know that I was your age when I had you," she said just as calmly as before, "you stayed with your father and rarely saw me when you were a child because you were lead to believe that I didn't want a child,"
I looked at her and pretended that everything that she said didn't dig into my heart like a rusty screw.
"You thought that I didn't want to talk to you because I never saw you, I rarely called, and maybe sent post cards through our family friend Peggy," her voice was strained and I could see a tear leaking from the side of her eye, "I knew that you resented me because you thought I didn't care."
I fidgeted in my chair, and looked away from her.
"When I was eighteen I was in a much different situation then what you are in now, in fact, it was completely different," she reached into the box and pulled out a picture and held it out to me, it was a picture of my mother in her younger years. I never saw pictures of her when she was younger because frankly I rarely saw her at all. She had the same completion, light skin with a pair of blue grey eyes, her hair was the same golden brown color. I felt disappointed, I looked nothing like her. She was definitely beautiful and graceful while I was stout with a wide bottom. She was dressed in all black and held a large weapon that looked like a machete in her hand with a glowing knife in the other. Next to her stood a women who looked equally graceful, she was shorter than my mother and had sleek brown hair, and if I were to guess her heritage it would have been asian. She was holding a large crossbow in her hands but in contrast to my mother, she was wearing short sleeves with black tattoos covering them.
"You see those tattoos she has? They were called marks. I have them as well but I had them hidden away," she scooted back and pulled up her shirt to her stomach to show an arrangement of strange scars, I focused on them more and saw that they looked like the marks her friend had. She pulled her shirt back down to cover her stomach.
"Those marks, they look like my birthmark," I said pulling up my sleeve to uncover my lower arm part of my arm. I always covered with a jacket because a kid in my middle school once asked it I cut myself and it had made me self conscious. On days that I didn't wear long sleeves I had hidden it with make up. She eyed the birthmark and then looked up at me again.
"That's not a birthmark, it's a mark too," I let her words sink in.
"So you gave your child a super-sweet scar that looks just like yours, wow your parenting just keeps getting better and better," I remarked snidely, my mom looked like someone had punched her in the stomach.
"It's not a scar, it's a mark," she said, "they are tattoos that carry heavenly qualities."
My mother had officially gone full, bat-shit, insane.
"You draw marks with this device, a stele," she reached into the box and pulled out something that looked like an intricate metal stick with a glass exacto knife sticking out from one end.
"So you cut me with a wonky metal wand? Wonderful," I was beginning to understand why my father had told to me it was better if I was away from my mom. For the few months she had me as a baby, she had practiced chiseling.
"This is going to be difficult if I don't show you," she held the stele and muttered "Ilahi" and the stick started to glow, my eyes widened. It didn't stop there. She pressed the stele against her skin and began to draw onto her arm, with each stroke leaving a glowing and puckered curved line until a curly shape that looked like two adjoined threes. Her face was red and her expression looked pained until she lifted the pointy glowing stele and put it on the table.
"What. The. Fuck," I blurted out, staring at the glowing symbol on her arm.
"Watch your language! You aren't an inarticulate simpleton!" she reprimanded.
"Are you kidding me? You're scolding me when you just drew on a magical freaking tattoo on your arm?" I asked astonished.
"Harley, I'm not exactly human. I am part of the Nephilim race," she waited for me to respond, "Harley when I was pregnant with you, it was a bad time to be what I was; a Nephilim. I had two options; fight and protect the human race or be ostracized. I fought as a Nephilim, or as we called ourselves, Shadowhunters. Shadowhunters are a secret group of Nephilim who hunt for rogue downworlders, werewolves, fairies, vampires, and warlocks. However, our main goal was to hunt for Demons."
I stared at her with my mouth agape, she looked at me concerned.
"Maybe I'm dumping too much om you at once. Are you okay?" I nodded soundlessly, "good, I knew you could handle it. I was eighteen when a battle broke out at a meeting called the Accords, which was a peace meeting between the Shadowhunters and other "magical creatures". I had never been overzealous about the idea of killing things but I did my duty and what was expected of me. That day, at what was supposed to be a peaceful gathering, turned into a a bloodbath."
Her eyes darkened and for a moment I imaged myself in that situation, in a battle between half angels, werewolves, vampire, witches, and fairies, I shuddered.
"At the time I had thought about quitting because I had met your father, who lived near one of the Shadowhunter's headquarters that I worked at. We fell in love quickly and I told him my secret. After the accords, I had lost almost my entire family and most of my friends, I no longer could stand the idea of living life as a Shadowhunter when everyone I loved was always in danger. So I left. Me and your father moved in together and got married. We lived happily but after a couple months something changed. I was pregnant…"
I felt a dull thud in my stomach, everything was fine till I came along, I thought bitterly to myself.
"Why was it such a bad thing that I existed?" I asked numbly.
"No! I was so happy to have you! But I was so stupid, with Shadowhunters, even if you leave and don't want anything to do with them, the same can't be said for your children. I had forgotten that for a moment."
"Why would they care if I existed? Why would they want to kill me?" I asked outraged, anger boiling in my blood at the thought of the Shadowhunters ruining whatever happiness I had experienced with my family before everything fell apart.
My mother didn't look outraged, in fact, her mouth had quirked into a smile, "they didn't want to kill you, no they wanted to take you from us for themselves."
"What do they need me for?" I asked stupidly.
"Because the blood of the Nephilim is dominant, they would have wanted to make you a Shadowhunter," seconds ticked by after that statement.
"They wanted me… to be a Shadowhunter?" She nodded.
"I am part angel?" I asked dumbfounded.
"Allegedly, but for all intents and purposes yes."
I got out of my chair and stood up while letting the new information sink in.
"YES!" I fist pumped into the air, "OH MY GOD YES! I AM A MAGICAL MUTHA-FUCKING SHADOWHUNTER!"
"Language!" She warned me, but I completely ignored her.
"I AM SPECIAL! HOW GODDAMN AWESOME! Do I have super powers?" I asked excitedly.
"No, like I said, you can get marks," she said looking at me amused, but a little sad, "you aren't trained so you can't really fight or anything else that a Shadowhunter would normally do."
"Who cares? I'm part angel!" I sang.
"Are you done? Or do you want to gloat some more about a life that kills many people's families?" After that remark I quieted and I sat back down in my chair.
"Sorry," I apologized.
"It's fine, it's fun for a while till you realize how much you can loose. And fighting isn't a life for everyone. For Shadowhunters that is one of the only things you can do and you can bet your biscuit that if you don't fight the rest of your family and friends will. So you see all those years I left you alone wasn't because I didn't care about you, I did, but I couldn't let the them know you existed so I moved far away. I knew that they checked on me to make sure I never had any children and I had Peggy write her name in as your mother on your birth certificate."
I never knew that before. Peggy was my dad and mom's closest friend. She was always at my house back in San Diego and she was one of the only people who contacted me everyday, usually by email. I felt a guilty knot in my stomach begin to form as I realized that I hadn't responded to her since all the crazy had entered my life. Peggy had been the only one who shared small stories about my mom when my dad wouldn't. She told me how they couldn't go to a hospital in time so my mom and had to give birth to me in a bathtub. But now it seemed like it was probably out of necessity, so that they could place her name on my birth certificate.
"When you turned eighteen, a person who informs me about the Shadowhunters said that the they stopped looking for me since more pressing matters had risen, so I decided to be reckless and send for you, at least till you went to college."
"Do you still love dad?" I asked her, I had asked my father this question several times, and I thought of all the questions I still needed to ask her but then the front door bell rang.
"Who is that?" I asked her suspiciously, I wondered why we were still in the house even though a threatening message had been left in it. Shouldn't we be running?
"I'll get it, Harvey I just wanted you to know everything important, now go upstairs and pack necessities. That means no make up, hair dye or music okay?"
"Wait, why? who's here?" She looked at me sadly when I asked.
"Just please do this quickly for me okay, were going to go somewhere safe for a while and these people will help us."
I ran upstairs into my room and before I heard the door open and several heavy footsteps walk into my house. I closed the door behind me and ran and grabbed my largest duffle bag and the first things I put in it were my laptop and the manilla envelope with the Ebony's list. I threw in a handful of underwear and another handful of socks which I'm sure were all mismatched. I grabbed some of the sturdiest shirts I owned and two sweaters, one for the day time and one for the night. The shoes I was wearing were good enough, my chucks, so I ran into my bathroom and grabbed my face wash, toothbrush and toothpaste. I reached into the bottom of my backpack and grabbed for my cell phone. When I thought I found it and pulled it out and saw that it was my pocketknife. It couldn't hurt, I thought to myself, so I placed it in the duffle bag and put my wallet and cellphone in it as well. I was about to run out of the room when when a small photo caught my eye, it was faced down on my bedside table but I grabbed it and threw it in by bag and ran down stairs.
"Where is she-"
"I'm here! Let's go!" I yelled once I reached the living room. Three pairs of eyes swiveled to look at me. The first was my mom's who looked relieved. Next to her stood a women who looked to be in her early twenties. She had choppy, reddish brown hair that was cut right above her shoulders. She was dressed in heavy cargo pants, a hunting coat along with a pair of hiking boots. Her severe hazel eyes were trained on me as if she were assessing a particularly expensive purchase. Next to her stood a man a couple inches taller then her. He had extremely short, rust colored, hair and an impressive five o-clock shadow. While the women next to him was staring at me intensely with her arms crossed and while sporting an assertive posture, the man looked relaxed, leaning lightly on one of the walls. He was looking at me too, but with more curiosity in his eyes then authority.
"So, this is your daughter?" The women said as she walked up to me with her arms crossed, "Is she part warlock or did she dye her hair?"
I looked at my mom to see if she was serious.
"She's not part warlock, she just to likes coloring her hair. And you as well as I know that Nephilim can't have warlock children," my mom said regarding the younger women warily.
"It has happened before, so I thought it was better to check. It is all a part of protocol," once she was a couple feet away from me she turned back to my mother, "so you said she wants to join the Clave. Is this true?"
I was completely thrown off and I looked at my mom questioningly, she nodded her head. The man next to her observed our interaction with vague interest, "Yes, I would like to join the Clave?"
I ended with a question because right as I said the word, I realized that it was one of the causes of Ebony fleeing. The note had also mentioned the Clave. With a start I realized that the Clave and Shadowhunters were the same thing.
"You know that we only want the most serious Shadowhunters, we don't want you to leave after a year once you are bored. So tell me young Nephilim, will you be bored in a year?" She watched my face, obviously detecting to see if I was lying. I could always tell when someone was bad at catching lies if they looked like they were actively working at finding them.
"I plan can become a Shadowhunter for a year," I said looking her straight in the eye while giving her a sweet smile, "But I can't do more than a year and two months."
The man in the corner snorted and the women looked at me disgusted, "the last thing we need for our next generation is another cocky and self impressed, Shadowhunter who will get killed in the first hint of a real battle."
I really tried to remain professional but she reminded me so much of the teachers and authority figures that I actively provoked that I had to say, "I'm not cocky and self impressed, more self aware really."
"I can see that you won't take this seriously so I'm going to have to leave," the women signaled at the man, and I saw my mom open her mouth to object.
"Oh come on June! She's not that bad, she looks like she could pack a punch and do some damage," the man said talking to the women, his next question was directed at me, "you exercise right?"
"I do a lot of… jogging," I could practically hear my mom's internal groan.
"See June? Athletic, she's a hell of a lot better than the lazy couch potatoes that the Clave has been popping out lately. Besides, were in no position to turn down willing soldiers with our dwindling numbers," June seemed to consider it for a moment but her jaw was still clamped.
"Porsha, could you give my brother and I a minute to talk please?" She asked my mom, who nodded in response. I walked into the other side of the room when June pulled her brother to the kitchen to talk. Now that I thought about it, I could see how they were related. They had the same strong jaw and slight cleft in their chin, and even under their thick outdoorsy clothes I could see that they were extremely muscular. From their whispered argument I heard snippets like "Undermining my authority," from June and "I was just stating important information," from her brother.
"Harley, take the stele with you," my mom said to me in a whisper as she pushed it into one of my duffle bag's pockets, "just say Ilahi when you want to use it."
"What if they don't want me?" I whispered back.
"Oh they'll take you. She just wants to prove a point that you can't just stroll back into the Clave after abandoning it. She'll have a harder time accepting me but I think were okay," I turned to look at my mom in horror. She was going to join the Clave again? After everything she did to avoid it she was being dragged back in because of me? I had already ruined her marriage and now I was going to ruin the rest of her life because she didn't want to leave her deadweight and incapable daughter in a new environment. Even worst she didn't know that her dead weight and incapable daughter may have a homicidal vampire who was out to get her and probably anyone who got in his way. Once the brother and sister returned I made my decision.
"We're willing to accept your daughter but we're less sure of how we will handle you. Since you did break the law by hiding her…" June started out, her brother looked at her annoyed but didn't say anything.
"I am willing to accept any of the consequences caused by my actions," my mother responded holding her chin up.
"No," I said, everyone looked at me in confusion,"I don't want you with me."
"Harley, can you please not act up right now-"
"-no I can't act up later. You don't want me, just say it out loud, will you for once. For once in your stinking life can you not lie?" I said to her vehemently.
"Harley… or course I don't think that!" Tears began to leak down her face and I internally winced at the next words I said.
"Stop lying, you're a coward. You left your family and friends to be with some human boy toy and ended up getting knocked up like a slut. And you did the same with me didn't you? Abandoned me so you didn't have to do your duty because, God forbid, that requires responsibility. I don't want you anywhere near me and I won't join the Clave if you do, I can promise that. I hate you and I've hated you since I've known who you were. And now that I have a way to finally never see my Godforsaken family again, and you better Goddamn believe I'm taking it."
"I know you're angry and I get that but- I'm your mother!" She wailed at me. I stepped away from her and walked towards the door.
"You've never been my mother, I have no mother, just some selfish bitch who won't leave me alone. Tell dad I don't want to see him ever again either, I don't want liars in my life," I slammed the door behind me and I let a couple tears fall as I walked down the street. I watched my front door from a distance when two figures emerged from it. It was June and her brother and they both walked down the street towards me.
"She's not coming," June said stiffly. Both of them were looking at me like I was a particularly violent pit bull and I instantly felt like shit. They led me to a jeep that was parked one block down and they were both seated in the front and I slid into the back seat. For once in my life, I prayed. I prayed that my mother never came looking for me, and forgot about me. I prayed that she found my father and they lived together in my old house in San Diego. I prayed that they adopted a bunch of unselfish babies who loved them and didn't come home late every night and weren't so horrible that they needed to be sent away so that they learned a lesson. Then finally the tears began slipping out of my eyes so fast that all I could do was surrender to them.