'SANSANVI!'

I screamed as loudly as I could, hoping it would drag the stupid Forsaken away from Clary. She was still against the wall, seeming to be holding back a scream. The blade shot out of its holding case, and blinding me for a moment. I slashed out, my vision still disabled, striking the man around his rib area. He bellowed, and I took the moment to run to Clary. I hauled her up by her arm, then shoved her down the hall ahead of me. The thing was still following us, its footsteps shaking the ground slightly as we ran.

The thing may have been catching up, but I still had time to throw the door closed. The automatic door lock clicked, and Clary breath caught slightly. The man hit the door seconds after we got out, the door slammed against the hinges. I felt Clary's hand slip out of mine as she backed towards the stairs. I turned to look at her. 'Get downstairs! Get out of the-'

I didn't finish. The door blew out and almost knocked me off the landing. I got out of the way, moving so fast I would have been invisible to anyone else. The world for me though, was as clear and in-focus as it always was. I jumped to the top of the banister as the monster came blundering through the open doorway. I yelled at Clary to get out of the way again, to get downstairs, but she didn't seem to have heard me over the din the thing was making. It came towards me swinging its axe. I ducked and the axe hit the banister and stuck. For some reason, I found it funny. I barked out a short laugh, and the monster roared. It deserted its weapon, and came at me only with fists. I swept the blade through the air, managing to get the blade all the way to the hilt. The thing started to sway back and forth. For a second I thought I had it beat, but it lurched forward and grabbed at me. I moved, but underestimated the size of its hands. The hands caught me, barely, and after only one step, it fell, taking me with him.

We crashed down the stairs, and I could hear its grunts of pain. The Forsaken took most of the hits on the stairs, but I still knocked one shoulder, hard, against the edge of the step. I couldn't help but grunt.

When I hit the bottom finally, I blanked for a beat. I woke to hear Clary's slight scream, and her light footsteps tapping down the steps, coming down two at a time. I twisted slightly; the thing had landed on my legs, and was about as heavy as it looked. I couldn't feel them from the knee up with the occasional spasm. I closed my eyes and gritted my teeth against the pain, but I blanked again. Clary's voice broke the spell and I blink and looked up. 'It is dead?' Which was stupid; I could feel it breathing.

Clary gave a quick glance at the thing, and I could tell from the way she looked away so fast it wasn't. 'Almost.'

'Hell.' I grumbled. 'My legs-' I stopped because I realized it wasn't only my legs. My left was bent around, and flattened. It was on fire but cold at the same time.

'Hold still.' Clary instructed. She put both her arms around mine and pulled. She got me out from under the still trembling corps, and I stood up as gracefully as I was able, which at the moment, wasn't all that graceful. I bent my arm across my chest, and helped Clary up with my right one.

'Is your arm alright?' She asked

I shook my head. 'No. Broken. Can you reach into my pocket?'

She paused then nodded slowly. 'Which one?'

'Inside jacket, right side. Take out one of the seraph blades and hand it to me.'

I stood motionless, as Clary, leaning close, searched the inside of my jacket's lining for the blade. Her hand grazed my chest at one point, and I could feel the trail of warmth it felt. I breathed in deeply, hoping she would mistake it for pain. Her scent was so potent, blocking out the stench of the dying Forsaken. The smell of the paint was sharp, but the mustiness of history that surrounded her lessened the edge. It was so pleasant and calming. Her smell was gone as soon as I had caught it. She handed me the blade, looking the other way.

I took it and called the name that came to my head, Sanvi, closing my eyes as the light from the weapon grew to blinding. 'Don't look.' I ordered.

I turn around, wanting to get this over with. Just as I was raising the blade over its head for the kill, as I had been taught, I felt a sudden twist of rage that this thing had been created. The rage took over, and instead of quickly stabbing it in the head, I slashed it across the throat, then punctured a lung. The thing would die no doubt; these guys had no healing powers, but I felt cruel right after doing it. I tsked at myself, and turn back to see Clary watching me. 'I told you not to watch.'

'I thought you said it would disappear. Back to its own dimension- you said.'

'I said that's what happens to demons when they die.' I got my jacket off; it was pulling on my arm uncomfortably, and I had to heal anyway. 'That wasn't a demon.' I took out my stele, about to draw an iratze, when I noticed that Clary was staring. 'This.' I explained. 'Is a stele.' I hesitantly touched it to the Mark on my shoulder, knowing the burn would be as bad as the broken arm. 'And this.' I went on.' is what happens when a Shadowhunter is wounded.'

I traced the lines, matching up the ones that weren't connected. It started to glow painfully, and for a few brief seconds, I wanted to still have my broken arm. I bore it out, though, and it quietly disappeared into my skin, leaving behind another scar.

I looked over myself, checking for any other injuries. Nothing, thankfully. I don't think I could stand another one of the burning Runes. I say that every time I get hurt, but every time it hurts. I rotated my arm around, making sure everything was working. It was a little stiff, and despite myself, I let a grunt of pain. Clary looked up but ignored her and kept twisting it around, bending and clenching my fist.

'That's amazing!' Clary gasped 'How did you-?'

'That was an iratze- a healing rune.' I told her. 'Finishing the rune with the stele activates it.' I put back my stele in my jacket pocket that was deep enough for the whole stele to be covered, and went over to nudge the Forsaken. It should have been dead by now, and, low and behold, it was. 'We're going to have to report this to Hodge.' I grinned slightly at the conversation that would ensue. 'He'll freak.'

'Why would he freak?' Clary asked, her frown, but smiling eyes face on again. 'And I get that that thing isn't a demon-that's why the Sensor didn't register it, right?'

I nodded, impressed she had caught on so quickly. 'You see the scars all over its face?'

Clary gave the corps a quick glance, then nodded.

'Those were made with a stele. Like this one.' I tapped my pocket. 'You asked me what happen when you carve Marks onto someone who doesn't have Shadowhunter blood. Just one Mark will only burn you, but a lot of Marks, powerful ones? Carved into the flesh of a completely ordinary human being with no trace of Shadowhunter blood?' You get this.' I didn't even point. I jerked my head in its general direction. Those things disgusted me beyond words. 'The runes are agonizingly painful. The Marked ones go insane- the pain drives them out of their minds. They become fierce, mindless killers. They don't sleep or eat unless you make them, and they die, usually quickly. Runes have great power and can be used to do great good- but they can be used for evil. The Forsaken are evil.'

'But why would anyone do that to themselves?'

'Nobody would. It's something that gets done to them. By a warlock maybe, some Downworlder gone bad. The Forsaken are loyal to the one who Marked them, and they're fierce killers. They can obey simple commands, too. It's like having a-' I paused, thinking of the right world. 'A slave army.' I stepped around the disgusting corps, making sure to none of its blood on my shoes. I turned back to Clary.' I'm going back upstairs.'

'But there's nothing there.'

'There might be more of them.' I hoped there would be. These things shouldn't exist. 'You should wait here.' I got to the third step before anyone said anything.

'I wouldn't do that if I were you.' The voice was high, and sounded panicky. 'There are more of them where the first one came from.'

I flipped around, and found the fake witch. She had a turban on her head, and was wearing what seemed to a bed sheet. I couldn't remember what her name was, though.

'Madame Dorothea?'

That was it. The older woman inclined her head. I frowned and took a step down. 'Wait…'

'More what?' Clary demanded.

'More Forsaken.' Dorothea replied with a cheerfulness I never would have used when talking about the monsters. She glanced around the entranceway. 'You have made a mess, haven't you? I'm sure you weren't planning on cleaning up either. Typical.'

'You are a mundane.' I forced out each word. How would she now about this world?

'So observant.' Dorothea smiled dryly. 'The Clave really out did themselves with you, didn't they?'

She knows about the Clave, and didn't tell anyone about this? Humans could have been killed. WE could have been killed. 'You know about the Clave? And you knew there are Forsaken up there, so why didn't' you say anything? Just the existence of Forsaken is a crime and-'

'Neither the Clave nor the Covenant have ever done to help me,' Her eyes flashed with anger. 'I owe them nothing.' Her accent changed, and even thought it was gravelly and deeper, it comforted me, like the Idris accent did. It reminded me of home somehow.

'Jace, don't.' Clary scolded. She turned to the older woman. 'If you know about the Forsaken, and the Shadowhunters, then could you tell me something about my mother?'

Dorothea shook her head, frowning. 'All I can say about her is to forget. She's gone.'

'You- You mean she's dead?' Clary's voice was so scared. I felt the urge to protect her again; I felt this tug on my heart, as if I felt bad about bring her into this world.

'No. She could be still alive.'

'I will find her.' Her voice had become stronger, but her hands had started to tremble. I moved to her side and lightly held her forearm. 'You understand that I have to find her. Now, before-'

'I am not going to help.' Dorothea held her hands up. 'Not if it's with Shadowhunters.'

'But you knew her!' Clary cried accusingly. 'She was your neighbor!

'Doesn't matter.' I put in, lazily, in the way Clary seemed to hate. 'Official Clave business. ' I tapped my lips, then paused dramatically. 'Though I could always come back with the Silent Brothers.'

Dorothea threw up her hands. 'Oh for the love of- You might as well come in. I tell you what I know.' She stopped on the verge of crossing the threshold.' But if you tell anyone that I helped you, Shadowhunter, you might not need you stele again.'

The threat shook me; The Inquisitor had said the exact same thing the day after my father had died. I smirked and tried not to show how rattled I was. 'Yikes. That wouldn't be good.'

'Yikes is right Jace Wayland.' She spat and walked into her apartment.

She knows my last name too? What the Hell. Where does she get this stuff? I never told anyone what happened with the Inquisitor, and it was in the middle of Alicante, which was immune to any sort of listening apparatus. I couldn't hold my surprise in; even Clary noticed.

'Wayland?'

'It's my name. I don't like that she knows it, though.'

'We might as well go in, right? What have we got to lose?'

I looked at her and blinked. 'When you spent any sort of time in my world, you understand no never say that again.'