Clary's POV

Whooah, we're half way there
Livin' on a prayer
Take my hand and we'll make it - I swear
Livin' on a pr-

"Shut up!" I cry desperately as I tug at the pockets of my jeans – searching for my phone. "Shut up shut up shut up!"

"What is that?" Izzy pokes her head round the door, eyes resting on me. For a second, it looks like she has forgotten I had returned, but she quickly walks into the room and perches on my unmade bed – silk nightdress rippling as she walks. "Who's calling you at six in the morning?"

"Simon," I whisper when I finally found my phone in my hoodie.

"Who's Simon?" Isabelle asks. I ignore her, quickly pressing the connect button and placing the cool metal phone to my ear.

"Hello?"

"Clary!" I hear Simon's frantic voice answer. "Oh, my god, Clary, where have you been?"

"I've-"

"First, you don't answer my messages. I texted you fifteen times, Clary! So I called you -" I run a hand through my tangled hair as Simon rambles on, walking over to the window and staring down into the street below. Early commuters trample down the sidewalk; heads bent over phones and briefcases gripped tightly in their hands, "– so I went to your apartment. Clary, the whole place is destroyed! I thought there had been some sort of chainsaw massacre or something; there's blood everywhere. So - freaking out a lot now – I went to Luke's."

"Simon-"

"Luke's place was just as bad. It's a book store, Clary! They're one of the most boring, safest places on earth! Is Luke in some sort of gang? Is your mom? Are you? So help me, Clary, if you are dealing dr-"

"Simon, shut up! I'm not dealing anything!" His ragged breathing makes the receiver buzz against my ear. "Meet me in an hour at Java Jones." Hanging up, I drag a hand across my face and throw my phone on to my bed next to Izzy.

"First, what was that about? Two, who is this Simon?" Izzy ask. "Three, is he hot?"

"Simon's my best friend," I answer, opening the closet in the corner of the room. "He's freaking out about the fact I've been missing for three days and there's blood in both my apartment and Luke's."

"You only answered two of my questions," Izzy points out as she walks towards me. She begins sifting through the limited contents of my closet – chucking clothes on the floor as she goes. "This," She says, shoving a tight black top, "And these." She drops a pair of ripped skinny jeans on the floor, "This too." A black, leather jacket lands at my feet. "May as well."

"What's this?" I ask, holding up the belt. Izzy rolls her eyes as she holds jeans and top up in front of me, biting her lip.

"It's a weapon's belt. You can hold your blade and daggers in it." I nod.

"This will look fine," Izzy sighs, pointing towards the en-suite bathroom with an impatient wave of her hand. "I'll get you some breakfast."

"It's fine," I say quickly, suddenly remembering how bad Izzy's cooking is. She raises an eyebrow at me. "I'll make myself something."

"Don't be silly, Fairchild." She rolls her eyes and left.

After quickly showering and changing, I grab my phone from the bed, stuff it in my pocket, and leave. The smell of burning bread wafts up the stairs; a sigh escaping my lips at the thought of having to eat Izzy's cooking. I slide into the kitchen, dumping my weapons belt on the table and sinking down on to a chair.

"Here," She says, placing a plate of burnt bread and eggs in front of me. "Eat."

I slowly place a small piece of toast in my mouth, trying not to gag when it slides down my throat.

"You're actually eating it?" Zander's voice asks incredulously from the door way. "Isn't that stuff poisonous?"

"What did you just say?" Izzy hisses, stepping forward as she brandishes her knife.

"Nothing." Zander sinks down on to the chair next to me, shaking his head when Izzy offers him breakfast. "Where are you off to?"

"I need to meet with my friend. He's worried," I answer, swallowing another piece of toast.

"What are you going to tell him?"

"I don't know. I've never kept anything from Simon." Zander crosses his arms over his chest. "I tell him everything."

"You can't tell him about us," He says. "You can't. He's a mundane. It's not allowed."

"I may as well be a mundane!" I cry, throwing my hands up in the air. Izzy and Zander stare at me, shocked. "It's true," I say, quieter. "I'm just as clueless to this as Simon is."

"Clary, that's not true-"

"It is," I say. "I'm not made out for this kind of life. Maybe I used to be, but I'm just not anymore."

"So, what? You're going to leave again?" Izzy says bitterly. "Break Jace's heart again?"

"I can't leave. Not now." I push my chair back, taking my plate over to the sink and dunking it in the water. "I just can't be the person you know as Clary Fairchild. That's not me. I'm Clary Fray."

"They're the same thi-"

"No, they're not. Killing demons, fighting next to you; that's Clary Fairchild. Sketching, hanging out with Simon; that's where I belong."

"You belong with us, whether you like it or not." Alec appears, grabbing the plate from my hand and pushing me to the side. "It's who you are."

"Then why does it feel like I've stopped being me, and I'm trying to be this totally different person?"

"Clary, you don't have to try to be anyone but your-"

"Forget it," I mutter and snatch the weapons belt from the top of the table. "I'll see you later."

"Wait, Clary!" Zander rushes after me, grabbing my arm and spinning me around. "What are you going to tell him? This Simon guy?" I shrug, pulling on my boots and lacing them up.

"I'll come with you," He says abruptly and immediately starts pulling on his own shoes. "I'm not letting you go on your own. Wait." Zander quickly hurries over to the old, oak umbrella stand – snatching something from it and strapping it to his waist.

"You don't have to come with me, Zan."

"Yes," He says, "I do."

"Simon will freak out if he sees you. He'll think I've eloped or something."

He wriggles his eyebrows. "Am I that bad?"I glare at him. "Fine, fine. I'll get Alec to draw a glamour." He disappears into the kitchen, returning quickly – pulling down his right sleeve as he does so.

"You about done?" I say dryly. Zander nods and unlocks the large door; bolts sliding back and clicks resounding through the room.

"Let's go," He says, pushing the door open and leading the way into the early morning rush of New York City.

"You expect me to believe any of that?" Simon asks, mouth open and glasses hanging off the end of his nose. "Clary, that's a load of crap!"

"It's true!" I throw my hands up into the air, standing up quickly from the wooden steps. We had spent the day talking, eventually ending up at Luke's where we watched the sun disappear beyond the horizon. I know I shouldn't have told him but I couldn't help it; he was my best friend after all. Zander had been hissing in my ear the whole time and had not appreciated me ignoring him all day. However, he had eventually accepted my decisions, and had shut up.

"Clary, come on, you're joking right? Please tell me you're joking." He stares at me, probably worrying about my health and sanity.

"Tell him you're joking. Tell him you're joking," Zander hisses. He stands to my left, a scowl spread across his face.

"I'm joking," I mutter. "Of course." Simon begins to chuckle nervously before pulling himself up and placing his hands on my shoulders.

"You almost had me there for a second, Fray." He shakes his head. "Demons, Shadowhunters... I was beginning to consider checking you in at the mental hospital."

A soft, menacing chuckle sounds from my right – directly behind Simon. My eyes flicker to Zander who is standing completely still, eyes wide and hand reaching for his blade instinctively. Quick as lightening his hand connects with Simon's temple and my best friend crumples to the floor in a heap – passed out. A flicker of guilt runs through me as I turn back to the sound.

"Zander," I mutter out of the corner of my mouth. "What – What is it?"

"Vampire," He replies, just as a man – no, a boy – steps out from the shadows of the trees. His black, curly hair rustles as he walks. He is only a little taller than me, maybe five foot five or six. There is a menacing gleam to his eyes and, as they run me up and down, a shiver runs through me.

"Zander Shaw," the vampire says in a smooth, chilling voice. I can detect a faint accent – Spanish if I'm not mistaken. "Who is this?" His cruel eyes once again rake me over, and I feel Zander reach for a dagger at his hip. "That won't be necessary."

"I'm not so sure," Zander replies. "What are you doing here, Raphael?"

"I smelt Shadowhunters." A reflected shimmer of light from Luke's neighbour's house bounces off of Zander's dagger. "More than that, I smelt an unfamiliar Shadowhunter."

The way his dark eyes run over me, makes me pine for my blade – for the comfort that holding the heavy sword gives me. I had handed my belt quickly to Zander before meeting Simon so that he hadn't seen me with my knives and daggers and sword and general weapons that might make my best friend call the police on me. My eyes zero in on my belt which is lying on the ground where Zander had been sitting for the last two hours.

"What is her name?" Raphael asks, as I drag my eyes back to his.

"Clary," Zander answers for me. "Clary Fairchild."

"Ah, so this is the girl!" Raphael steps closer – close enough for Zander to step in front of me and twist his dagger through his fingers a little faster. "Ella es muy hermosa." He says to Zander who instantly stiffens.

"You're not welcome here," Zander growls.

"It was only a compliment."

"I know you, Raphael – It's never just a compliment." My eyes once again travel to my belt and I yearn to plunge my dagger into this guy's chest. I take a small step towards the steps.

"Who is the human?" That makes me stop. Raphael's staring, interested, at Simon's unresponsive body. "And why is he on the floor?"

"That's none of your business," I spit, my feet changing direction so that I'm walking towards the vampire instead.

"She talks!" Raphael exclaims. Zander's hand grabs at my arm but I shrug him off.

"Leave," Zander says. "Now."

"No, I do not think so," Raphael says, shaking his head almost remorsefully. Breathing a little heavily, a putrid smell drifts up my nostrils, making me gag slightly. "You see, there are two demons making their way towards you right now. I would like to see how your little friend copes."

"Clary!" Zander shouts as he runs towards my belt. He lunges for my blade, throwing it to me in one swift movement. The sword cuts through the air, landing in my hand easily – sending a wave of energy through its hilt and up my arm. "To your left!"

On instinct, I cut downwards with my blade – instantly hitting its target. My heart hammers faster in my chest as I realise I had killed the demon without even thinking about it. The demon's fake identity (a small man with greying hair) melts away, leaving a creature that resembled that of a maggot – smooth and white with larval skin. As its ear piercing wail pierces the air and its small mouth opens– I see black spikes lining the insides of its cheeks that look suspiciously poisonous. Its body slowly shrinks in on itself; its pitiful screeches still filling the air.

"Clary!" Zander screams again. I whip around, brandishing my blade only to see the second demon advancing, not towards me but, towards Raphael. Chest heaving and heart burning, my legs move towards the vampire before my mind has even stopped to think.

It crawls towards Raphael, who stands, almost bored, waiting for it. Distracted by my pounding footsteps however, he misses the sudden movement of the demon – its pincers flying towards him. His eyes find mine for a split second before I run in front of him so that I'm facing the demon head on.

My blade buzzes in my hand and I smile breathlessly. "Clary!" Arm swinging down, my blade cuts through the demon's torso like a knife through butter – my heavy breathing mixing with the ringing in my ears and the demon's screams.

"Clary!" Raphael cries, bringing me out of my daze. "It's Zander."

"W-What?" I stumble over to my friend who's lying on the ground, his leg oozing a black liquid.

"I – I'll be fi-" But Zander brakes off in a agonising yelp, his eyes closing and fists clenching around his blade. "Quick. In my belt – is my stele."

"Zander, I don't know any runes!" I cry helplessly, dragging his sweaty hair away from his eyes. "Wh-What do I do?" His hand grips mine with surprising strength, his green eyes staring at me with pride and pain.

"I'll go to the Institute," Raphael says. His eyes met mine – and I could almost swear I see a look of gratefulness reflected in his brown orbs.

"Zander-"

"You have to try, okay? You know what it looks like – you just have to draw it here." He motions to just above his knee. "You can do it, I know you can."

With shaking hands, I take his stele from his hand and place it to the place above his knee. As I trace the iratze on to his skin, I can hear pounding footsteps in the distance – or maybe it's just my heart, pounding in my ears.

My breathing heavy, I let out a long breath – rocking back on to my heels and staring into Zander's eyes. I lean forward and push his sweaty hair out of his face and his eyes close from exhaustion.

"Thanks, Clare-Bear," He breathes, opening his eyes a little and giving me a lopsided smile. "You did good."

"Clary." Izzy appears by my side, her hand on my shoulder and her eyes wide. "You're covered in blood, are you okay?"

I nod slowly, standing up and retrieving my blade from the ground. "I'm fine. We need to get Zan back to the Institute."

Alec appears, tugging Zander's arm across his shoulders and lifting him from the ground. "Izzy? A little help?"

Izzy rushes forward and pulls Zander's other arm across her shoulders, so his weight's supported between her and Alec, and they begin to walk.

"What about Simon?" I ask, staring over at my best friend who's still lying, unresponsive, on the ground.

Izzy glances over her shoulder and frowns. "Your friend?"

I nod.

"I've got it," Raphael says, walking forward and lifting Simon into his arms. He sends me a small smile before following Alec, Izzy and a weakened Zander. I run to keep up – falling into step beside Izzy who rolls her eyes.

"Do you want to know what happened after you left?"

"What?"

"Jace woke up and began to run round the Institute looking for you. When we told him you'd left to meet Simon he got all touchy and snappy. It was..." She smirks, "...pretty funny if I'm being honest."

"Clary, Simon's not allowed in the Institute. Is his home near here?"

I nod. "Yeah, it's four blocks from here."

"We'll meet you back at the Institute," Izzy says, adjusting Zander's arm around her shoulder. "Look after her Raphael or I'll personally put the stake through your heart."

Raphael chuckles. "I look forward to it, Lightwood!"

The street lamps throw pools of amber light on to the pavement and only a few cars drive past us on our way to Simon's house. I scrape the blood from my arms, trying to clean up as much as possible before I greet Simon's mom with her unconscious son and blood spilling from various cuts and grazes.

"By the way," Raphael says, breaking the silence that had fallen between us, "Thank you."

"What for?"

Raphael sends me a sideways glance and smiles. "Although it would nott have done much harm had it got me, demon ichor isn't pleasant to get out of your system and your clothes. So, I guess what I'm saying is, thank you...for saving me having to bin my perfectly good clothes."

I chuckle, stuffing my hands in my pockets and smiling. "Don't mention it."

"You know," He stares at me, grinning, his eyes lightening slightly, "I've heard a lot about you. But I'd never pictured you like this."

"Like this? Should I be offended by that?"

Raphael chuckles. "No."

"Then what do you mean?"

"I always pictured Jace going for someone tall with dark hair. When I first met them, I thought he and Isabelle were together." He shakes his head and laughs when he sees my frown. "Plus the way they described you, I thought you were some dark and mysterious killing machine, but I was wrong."

We walk for a minute in silence and I listen to the way our footsteps sound against the pavement and Simon's breathing as he slowly regains consciousness.

"You are just not how I pictured you at all. You're beautiful, sure, but there's more to you than that. I've lived a long time, and I've seen a lot of girls...but none like you. "

"Thank you?"

He laughs. "It's a compliment, young Shadowhunter."

We turn into Simon's street and I turn to see Simon almost fully awake. I gesture for Raphael to put him down and he does – disappearing into the shadows so Simon won't see him. Simon wobbles on his feet a little but gains his balance quickly.

"What happened?" He asks.

"I don't know," I joke, chuckling. "We were watching a movie at Luke's and you fell asleep. Do you know how much I had to tip the cab driver to carry you to the car?" I poke his stomach teasingly.

"I don't remember watching a movie," He says and runs a hand through his hair so it sticks up at the back a bit.

"Urm, yeah, we were watching The Terminator."

"Wow, I must have been really tired." He rubs his forehead and yawns. "You okay getting home?"

I nod.

"I'll text you," He says before turning and walking towards his house.

I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding – turning towards the place where Raphael had disappeared and saying, "You can come out now."

He's by my side in an instant, chuckling when I let out a surprised yelp. I hit him in the chest which probably hurt me more than him.

As we begin walking back to the Institute, I turn to him and ask, "Who's Jonathan?"

"Jonathan Morgenstern?" I shrug, nodding slightly. "He is Valentine's son."

"So he is my brother?" Raphael glances at me, pauses, and then nods.

"I do not know much of the Shadowhunter world, but I know enough to say that Jonathan Morgenstern is feared throughout. He and his father do not – how do I put this – have the best relationship. There's a very long, very confusing history that I can only guess at. A story that, if I'm correct in saying, includes Jace, your mother and yourself."

I frown. "Jace? Why Jace?"

"You should ask him," Raphael says, shrugging. "He told me once. Well, a friend did. It is not something I could easily explain."

"What's so confusing about it?" I ask and narrow my eyes when Raphael laughs.

"Oh, Clary, when you find out you will realise how stupid that question is."

Next chapter preview:

"Can you tell me about Jonathan?" My stomach clenches, my heart drops to my feet, I let go of her chin and my breathing deeply. Jonathan? Really? She can't remember her life in London but she can remember her arsehole of a brother? That's just great.

I clench my jaw and cross my arms over my chest. "Why?"

"Jace, I want to know," She says, her big, green eyes staring up at me pleadingly. "Please."

I sigh, grabbing her arm and steering her towards my bedroom. When we enter, she immediately sits at the window seat where we sat the previous night – curling her legs up under her. I flop down next to her and drag my hand down my face in exhaustion, yawning.

"What do you want to know?"

"Everything," She answers.