Me: Here it is. Sorry it took kinda long to get out. Some stuff going on around my place. Anyway, here it is, you know the characters don't belong to be and whatnot. Don't forget to leave a comment.

As soon as I walked into Madame Dorothea's apartment, I could tell something was off. There was a sort of…energy in the room that hadn't been in Clary's apartment, which meant that it wasn't related to the Forsaken, but another sort of demon or demonic monster. It smelt like incense, strong enough to seem like it was covering something up, and posters hung on the wall, dead-like. The corners were curling, and the colors faded, but Clary still stopped to look at them. I kept myself just inside of the doorway, just in case.

The Lady, who had walked through a bead curtain, poked her head through again and saw that Clary was ogling her posters.

'Interested in chiromancy? Or just being nosy?' She asked, one eyebrow raised.

'Neither.' Clary replied honestly. 'Can you really read fortunes?

'My mother had a great talent for it; she could tell a man's future by his palm or at the bottom of his teacup. She taught me her tricks.' Her gaze slid over to me, and there was a strange weight to it. 'Speaking of tea, young man would you like some?'

'Pardon?' I asked, surprised.

'Tea. I find it both settling and helps concentrates the mind. Wonderful drink, tea.'

'I'll have some' Clary put in. I could hear her stomach growling a bit, and realized that she hadn't eaten anything since the coffee shop three days ago.

'Fine.' I grumbled. 'As long as it's not Earl Grey.' I frowned, remembering the last time I had had it. 'I hate bergamot.'

'You hate bergamot?' Clary asked, surprised.

'Is there something wrong with that?' I demanded. I turned away from her, trailing my bands on the books. The fact that I had told her something rather personal bothered me slightly.

'You may be the only guy my age I've ever met who knows that bergamot exists, let alone that it's in Earl Grey tea.' She said, sounding impressed.

'Yes, well,' I replied, with the knowledge I sounded conceded. 'I'm not like guys your age.' I picked a book off the shelf at random, and flipped through it, like I was looking for something. 'Anyway, it's require to take classes about basic medicinal uses for plants. I took mine at the Institute.'

'I figured all your classes were, I don't know, Slaughter 101 and Beheading for Beginners.'

I put down the book and picked up another one.' Ha ha, Fray.'

I saw Clary wince out of the corner of her eye. 'Don't call me that.'

I looked up from the book, this one about telling the time of death for someone using cat entrails, and frowned. 'Wand why not? That is your last name, is it not?'

Clary closed her eyes, and I knew she was thinking of Simon. Her entire body clenched up for a moment, and then she took a shaky breath and relaxed. 'No reason.' She lied.

'I see. ' I muttered. I put the book back on her shelf, resisting the urge to slam it down. I had been taught to never slam things. Ever. 'There isn't anything serious here. It has to just be a front for the mundanes.'

'Just because you don't do magic like she-' Clary began angrily.

My vicious scowl cut her off. 'First, I don't do magic. Get it though your head. Humans cannot do magic, ever. It's what makes us human. Witches and warlocks are part demon, which gives them magic. It's because they have demon blood.'

Clary had her frown-with-smiling-eyes-face on for a few seconds, then said 'But I've seen you use magic. You use enchanted weapons-'

'I use things that are magic. And just to be able to do that, I have to undergo rigorous training. The rune tattoos on my skin are to protect me against the magic of the tools I use. If you tried to use one of the seraph blades, for example, it'd burn you, and probably kill you.'

'What if I got one of the tattoos?' She asked timidly. 'Could I use them then?'

Aghast, I shook my head. 'No!' I nearly shouted. 'The Marks are only part of a whole. I had to train, take tests, ordeals, and the different levels of training were- look forget about it, alright? Stay away from my blades. In fact, don't touch any of my things without permission. '

'There goes my plan to sell them on eBay.' Clary muttered.

'Selling them on what?' I demanded.

Clary smiled like she had the best secret in the world.' A magical place of mythical proportions.'

I blinked, then shrugged. 'Most myths are passed on fact, most of the time.'

'I'm starting to get that.' Clary murmured sarcastically.

The curtain rattled again and Dorothea stuck her head out. 'Tea's on the table, so there's no use for you two to keep standing there like donkeys. Come into the parlor.'

'There's a parlor?' Clary asked.

'Of course there's a parlor. Where else would I entertain?'

'Then I'll just leave my het with the footman.' I said under my breath.

The Lady shot me a dark look. 'If you were half has funny as you though you were, Jace Wayland, you'd be twice as funny as you really are!'

I thought about it for a moment. 'I may have just understood that.'

'Really.' Clary muttered as she walked through the bead curtain, following Dorothea. 'I understood it perfectly.'

I waited for a moment, then followed Clary, almost running into her. She was standing in the middle of the doorway, blinking, waiting for her eyes to adjust. Mine were already fine. In fact, I've always done better in darkness then bright situations. Even sunlight bothers me sometimes. The entire room, thought, was covered with things that made the room seem a lot darker then it probably was. Purple velvet hanging covered the back wall, from ceiling to floor. There were black curtains covering the windows and stuffed birds and bats were suspended from hooks in the ceiling, positioned as if in flight. The floor carpeted in dust, with a rug or two underneath. Armchairs surrounded a table with a pack of ribbon-bound tarot cards, a crystal ball and the tea. Sandwiches were also on the table, but I could smell the cucumber in them. No point in even taking a bite.

'Wow.' Clary flopped weakly into a chair. 'This looks great.'

'Have some tea.' Our hostess insisted. 'Milk? Sugar?'

I sat down primly and didn't even bother to look at the sandwiches more closely. I took my cup and sniffed it suspiciously. Not Earl Grey at least.

'Won't you have a sandwich?' Dorothea insisted, passing me the plate.

Clary looked over at me, and I gave her the plate. 'Cucumber.' I answered to her stare.

'I think cucumber sandwiches are the perfect compliment to tea, don't you' She asked of the air.

'I hate cucumber.' I muttered to my tea.

That didn't seem to bother Clary, though as she bite into one sandwich, finished it and took another within a minuet. Apparently these ones were delicious, not withstanding the cucumber.

'Cucumber and bergamot.' Clary pondered. 'Anything I should know about your dislikes.'

I though. There were many things I could add to the list. Demons for one, humans, the subway, wimps, Forsaken…The list when on for a while, but I only said one. 'Liars.' And took a sip of my tea.

The old woman sat her cup down and poured herself more tea. 'You can call me whatever you like. It might be true that I'm not a witch, but my mother was.'

Just as I was inhaling, of course. I almost spat out the entire mouthful, but once again, I had been taught not to spit out anything, not matter what it was. The tea was hot enough for it be endurance training anyway.

'That's impossible.'

'Why?' Clary asked. She took a sip of tea, then another bit of her sandwich.

I let out a breath and rubbed the back of my neck. 'Because they're half-human, half-demon. All witches and warlocks are crossbreeds. So that means they're sterile.'

'Like mules' Clary murmured.

'Your knowledge of livestock is mind-numbing.' I said dryly. 'But all Downworlders are in some part demon, but only warlocks have demon parents. That's why their powers are the strongest.'

'Vampires and werewolves are part demon too? What about the fairies?'

'Vampires and werewolves are the result of diseases brought by demons from their home dimensions. Most demon diseases are fatal to humans, but in these cases they worked strange changes on the infected, doing any real damage. And faeries, well, -'

'Faeries are fallen angles.' Dorothea picked up. 'cast down from Heaven for their pride.'

'That's what they say.' I shrugged. 'It's also said that they're the offspring of demons and angles, which always seemed more likely to me. Good and evil, mixing together. Faeries are as beautiful as angles suppose to be, but they have a lot of cruelty and malice in them. And you'll notice that most of them avoid the midday sun-'

'For the devil has no power.' Dorothea interrupted again, speaking softly, with a lithe to her voice, 'except in the dark.'

I rolled my eyes and scowled. Clary opened her mouth, but Dorothea, just in time, saved me from any more questions by interrupting a third time.

'Enough about that. It's true that warlocks can't have children. My mother adopted me because she waned to make sure there'd be something to attend to this place when she was gone. I don't have to master magic myself; I only have to watch and guard.'

'Guard what?' Clary and I asked both at the same time. I looked quickly away when Clary glanced at me, smiling slightly, and Dorothea murmured 'What indeed.' The older woman reached for a sandwich, but Clary had gotten to them first and eaten the entire plate of sandwich. She saw the empty plate and just chuckled.

Clary saw Dorothea make a futile grab for a sandwich, and muttered an apology and set her cup down rather loudly, making me wince.

Of course, Dorothea jumped on the cup, almost literally, as soon as it was on the plate.

'Did I break it or something?' Clary whispered to me.

'Nah.' I muttered back. 'She's reading your tealeaves.' She seemed to be anyway. Dorothea was scowling and muttering, turning the cup around as she went. 'I guessed you weren't as skilled as you thought.' I noted to Dorothea. She grunted and grabbed my cup just as I was about to take a sip. 'Hey!'

She poured the extra back into the pot and turned my cup around once. 'I see violence in your future. Blood; you will shed and it will be shed around you, because of you and for you. You have a secret you know already. Your enemy is not a man, nor will it get you killed. You must kill it, though, if you have want of a normal life.'

'Not a man?' I relaxed back into the chair. 'But I couldn't hurt a girl.'

'I didn't say it was a girl.' Dorothea hissed as she examined Clary's cup again. 'I merely said it wasn't a man.' She put the cup down with enough force to crack the plate. 'This is useless. There is nothing here for me to read.' She turned and glared at Clary. 'Is there something in your mind that would stop my reading?'

'What? No!' Clary shook her head. But even she seemed unsure.

'Hey, now don't be hasty. There could be something. You said that you haven't had the Sight before this week, so maybe the-'

'Maybe.' Clary snapped 'I'm just a late developer. And don't leer at me.'

'I'm not leering.' I snapped back.

'Not yet, but you were going to, I could tell.'

'Fine, so I was.' I gestured to he air, in defeat. 'But something is blocking your mind. It has to be.'

'Well, if your fight is finished, then let's try something else.' Dorothea interrupted, sliding the deck of cards on the table. 'Choose which ever one feels hot, cold or even seems to stick to your hand. Give me that card.'

Clary did so, slowly at first. None of them seemed to stick out to her, but when I brushed the card at the end Clary was coming to, it hit me like brick wall. The image of a woman, who looked like Clary, who had the same hair and skin color at least, came behind my eyes. She had her back to me, and when she turned around, she opened her eyes. They were the same color as Clary's.

'The Ace of Cups.' I heard Dorothea say, rather amused. 'The love card.' I blinked and the vision of the older-Clary vanished. The young Clary was sitting beside me still, and she was holding the card I had brushed up. Clary turned it around and looked at it. She smiled slightly. 'This card is good, right?'

'Not necessarily. Men do the most terrible things in the name of love.' The Lady's eyes glinted with a dark fire, and she raised her head slightly. 'But this card is powerful. What meaning does it hold to you?'

'My mother painted them.' Clary put the card back on the table, and I was tempted to touch it again, just to see if the older-Clary would come back.

Dorothea nodded. 'She painted all 52 of them. "A gift" she had said.'

'That's it.' I looked up turned to Dorothea, my eyes as hardened as I could make them. 'Did you know Clary's mother?'

Clary opened her mouth; presumably to tell me to stop being rude, but Dorothea started talking first.

'Jocelyn knew what I was, and I knew who she was. We didn't speak of it, but sometimes she would do favors for me, like this pack of cards, in return for information. Piece of Downworlder gossip. I was told to look out for a name every time. And that was it.'

The name floated up in my mind, hiding behind layers and layers of wall I tried to hide it behind. 'What name.' I demanded.

'Valentine.' She said simply.

Clary sat up immediately in her chair. 'But, you said-'

'And what are you taking about, "I knew who she was"?' Who was she?' I asked.

'She was a Shadowhunter. One of the Clave. Not anymore, but it was who she was. '

Clary was shaking her head. 'No no no.' Clary whispered.

'I wouldn't lie.' Dorothea had a sympathetic voice, but face wasn't overly kind. 'She chose to live here because-'

'It's a Sanctuary,' I finished. 'And your mother was the control. She made a safe house for Downworlder criminals. That's what this place is.'

'You would call it that, wouldn't you?' She sighed. 'You are familiar with the motto of the Clave?'

'Sed lex dura lex.' It was automatic. Clary looked confused, so I translated.' The Law is hard, but it is the Law.'

'Yes, well, sometimes, the Law is too hard. My mother thought so and made this place.'

'So you're a philanthropist.' My lip curled involuntary. 'And no doubt that they pay you for it? Handsomely?'

Dorothea smiled, and her gold tooth flashed, on purpose most likely. 'You all can't get by with good looks.'

'I should report you to the Clave.' I snarled.

Clary stood up. 'You can't. You said you wouldn't.'

I stood up too and walked over to a set of velvet hanging that had less dust on them then the others while hissing furiously 'I never said anything. ' I tore them from the wall and pointed sharply. 'What the Hell is this?'

Clary came over, and pushed down my arm. I could feel her heat through my jacket. 'It's a door Jace. Relax.'

I looked at the door again. It had a bay window on each side and the metal of the door was pulsing slightly with a light that wasn't visible when you looked at it straight on. The doorknob was an eye and resembled the tattoo on my hand.

'Shut it.' I snarled again. 'It's a Portal.'

'It's a five-dimensional door.' Dorothea explained. Clary's look blanked and Dorothea explained further, 'It can take you anyway. It's an-'

'Escape hatch.' I finished angrily. I turned to Clary. 'You mother lived here to have an easy place to get away.'

'Then why didn't she leave the other day when-' Tears started to well up in her eyes. Her blank look turned horrified. 'Me. She stayed because of me.'

I knew what Clary felt and I didn't want her going through the same thing I did. 'There's know you can blame yourself.'

Clary pushed past me, and put her hand on the knob. 'I want to know where she would have gone.'

'Clary.' She yanked open the door. 'Clary!' I warned. 'NO!'

She turned the handle and pulled the door open. The space behind the door was cold and dark. And before I could even grab her hand Clary swirled away from me and into the void.

I jumped after her without another thought.