"What about my parents?" Emily's breathing was getting bad, and she couldn't find a way to control it. Her grip on the bow was tightening to the point that her knuckles were turning white, but she couldn't loosen it even if she tried. It was like her body wouldn't move, and all she could focus on was Jonathan. If this was how it felt to be petrified, she'd rather die. The feeling of helplessness was worse than death at this point. Her eyes wouldn't leave his as he slowly walked back and forth in front of her, smiling like a child on Christmas morning. "How are you even still alive?"
"It's amazing how things work out, isn't it?" Emily watched in horror as he slowly came to a stop, just in front of Conan where the demon hovered over him. "This is a werewolf, correct? What is he doing here, dealing with Shadowhunter business?"
Emily didn't answer, mainly out of Conan's safety. That little statement was more confusing than it should've been. Conan is the one that got the text, so obviously he would be here, right? Apparently, Jonathan wasn't having it with her silence and within a matter of seconds, too fast for Emily to block it, he had stepped up to her, reached out and took the bow before landing a direct, powerful punch to her abdomen. Emily's grip on the bow loosened as he backed up, taking it with him along with the single arrow, and she doubled over on the floor. Her lungs suddenly wouldn't work. She couldn't breathe as his boot kicked her in the face, giving her a bloody nose, black eye, and rolled her onto her back where the quiver dug into her spine.
"Now, Emily, you're going to talk when I ask questions, understand?"
Emily whimpered, which she hoped was enough of an answer. For once in her life, she was experiencing something that she had never had before. She couldn't put her finger on it, and since Conan and Chase were unconscious with demons, she didn't have time to focus on her feelings. She had to think of a way out of here, and fast.
"Now, I'm going to ask this one time and one time only. Where are Jace and Clary?"
Emily rolled her head to look up at him. "You mean you're not all knowing?" she breathed with more pain than she expected.
He instantly got angry, but didn't hurt her anymore. Instead, he took a few steps back, examining the bow. "This is a beautiful weapon, isn't it? Let's test it out, shall we?"
Emily tried to scream, tried to get him to stop but her body wouldn't move, and it was like her voice was far away. Everything was a blur. All she could see was Jonathan with a bow in his hand, pulling a single arrow out and letting it fly over her right shoulder. Someone screamed, whether it was Conan or Chase, she couldn't tell, and they were instantly silenced no more than a second later. It ended as quickly as it started, with Jonathan's boot at her neck to keep her quiet. It was crushing her windpipe like a bug and no matter how hard she gripped and pulled, he wouldn't budge.
"Now, you're going to listen, and listen well." All of the anger in Jonathan that her father had told her about, all the fighting, the struggle, was becoming very real, very fast. And although she would never admit it, she was panicking. "Jace and Clary, I have a message for them. Tell them that my mother, Lady Lilith, isn't too happy with them. And to be frank, I'm not either. I wouldn't mind seeing your whole family beheaded, but that's not what she has in mind."
"You really know how to hold a grudge, don't you?" She had no idea where the bravery came from, or even how she was getting air into her lungs, but she let it rip. "My parents destroyed you and your father, and they can do it again."
"Clarissa won't succeed this time," Jonathan said with conviction. "She'll witness everything she loves die right before her eyes. Her compassion for others will be her downfall, starting with Jocelyn, her husband, her friends, and then, finally, her children. That is, if Jocelyn makes it through the night."
Emily's eyes shot open but closed again due to the pain. "What did you do to her?" she croaked out with pain. Her eyes were watering from the lack of oxygen.
"Nothing, just yet. She's merely unconscious, which is nothing new. She doesn't seem to keep her head on straight when a battle emerges. Lucian on the other hand, he'll be a nice trophy to have. Valentine had a interesting idea of how to punish Lucian for his insolence. And not to mention the two werewolves that were so determined to find him as well. What were their names again? Maia and Jordan, correct?"
Emily glared at him with everything she had as he looked down on her, head cocked to the side with a knowing smile on his pale features. It made her sick to her stomach. The worst part, if he was stronger than her, he was practically indestructible.
"Worried about your little family?" He released her throat, and it was only then that she realized she was getting lightheaded. She sucked a breath in with a wheezing sound, gripping her throat. "You should be. Lady Lilith is going to rip them apart one by one, slowly and painfully. And you, the little prodigy, get to watch it all."
Emily didn't even have a moment to ask what he meant. Because as swift as lightning, he grabbed the closest object – Emily didn't know what it was – and struck her in the side of the head with it. First the dizziness took over, the sounds around her faded, and then the blackness swept her away, the fading sounds of Jonathan's laughter haunting her.
Emily awoke to a pounding in her head that felt like someone was beating her with a hammer. Her hand came up and rubbed her temple, but it didn't help much. Not only that, but her throat felt like someone replaced her windpipe with sandpaper. With a hand on her head and another to her throat, trying to rub and sooth the discomfort, she slowly opened her eyes and looked around.
She was in the infirmary in the Institute on one of the beds in the middle of the room. The lights were dimmed, thankfully, and it smelled of mixed herbs and medicine. To her right, under white sheets and unconscious, was Chase. He didn't look too good. Blood had mixed with his brown curls, matting it and sticking it to his head and neck while soaking into the white pillow case. Nothing else seemed to be injured. But she couldn't see past his tanned shoulders, so he could've had a broken leg, and she wouldn't be able to tell.
Emily slowly sat up, getting dizzy with each inch she rose. She didn't even get up to her elbows when the door burst open, anxious eyes meeting hers as they took her in.
Jace, Clary, and Michael rushed to her side, her parents in their gear and Michael dressed in his healing robes. She let her younger brother help her back down on the bed. "Emily," Michael said as he looked over her. "You need to lie down. You sustained a lot of injuries and the iratze haven't completely healed you yet. You'll need a few more before you fully recover. Just because Mom is who she is, doesn't mean you get to heal faster than others."
"I figured that out," she answered. Her voice was hoarse and Clary gripped her hand, taking the seat next to her bed. She smiled at her mother, and as Jace gripped his wife's shoulders from behind, looking anxious, she realized how it must have looked. Their child, one of the strongest Shadowhunters around, along with Chase and a powerful werewolf, were found unconscious in a warehouse with no idea who caused it. "Dad, I–"
He held up his hand. "You can explain later," he insisted.
"Here, take this." Michael helped her lift her head up, giving her something that looked like green tea, but tasted like piss. "I know it's awful, but you need it."
She swallowed the whole cup, only coughing twice and instantly started to feel better. The headache lifted, although it was still pounding towards the back. She didn't feel as dizzy and when she tried to sit up, her brother actually helped her instead of forcing her back down.
"Mom, Dad–"
"Your father said you can explain later," Clary said. "Right now, you need to focus on getting better."
With just the look on her mother's face Emily knew that they wouldn't let her talk just yet. But if she couldn't explain just yet, then they could. "Where's Conan? Is he okay?"
The mention of his name made Jace's eyebrows pull together and Clary's hand gripped his on her shoulder, keeping him calm. "He's going to be okay," Jace said against his will. Just knowing that made her feel a little bit better. "He's at Magnus's. A Drevak sting was poisoning him, but we got there in time to heal him. It was just in his leg, so it took longer than usual to spread to the rest of the body. Although the arrow in his back made it difficult to transport him."
"What about Chase?" Emily found herself confused that she even asked. She normally wouldn't care, but he was lying on a bed a few feet away and concern was the only thing that she was feeling at the moment.
Clary answered. "He's got a bad concussion, and the back of his skull was cracked. It'll take longer for him to heal, and Brother Matthew said that it's possible he might have some memory loss. Whatever hit him did some massive damage."
"It was a Scorpios Demon," Emily answered. "It caught him off guard as soon as he walked in the warehouse. They knew we were coming."
"They?" Jace asked.
Emily glanced at both her parents, seeing their worried faces and couldn't look anymore. She found herself looking at her brother, and she sure as hell didn't want him to be as frightened about the situation as she was. "Michael, you should go. I want to talk to Mom and Dad alone."
He opened his mouth to protest, but obviously thought better of it. After handing her another glass that he ordered her to drink, he left, shutting the door softly behind him.
Jace came around in another chair so Clary was on one side of Emily's bed while he was on the other. She didn't look at either of them as they stayed silent, waiting for her to talk.
She took a deep breath, glanced at Chase, and then back at her hands that were folded on her lap. "Mom, Dad, I have probably the worst news that you'll ever hear."
Jace seemed to laugh slightly without humor. "I doubt that it could be as bad as–"
"Jonathan was the one at the warehouse. Jonathan/Sebastian, whatever you want to call him, he's back. And he and Lady Lilith are seriously pissed. They have Grandpa Luke, Grandma Jocelyn, Maia, and Jordan hostage, and I don't even know where to begin looking for them. Demons are at his disposal, and I don't know if it's true, but I'm guessing Lady Lilith is back as well in her mortal form. The problem is, I don't know what else is going to happen. He's probably blocked any way of tracking our friends and family, and more than likely we'll just have to wait until he gives us a clue. I hate waiting as much as you do, but unless you have a better idea, we're screwed."
To say her parents were shocked would be an understatement. Jace's golden skin had faded to a white sheet as Emily explained, like he had seen a ghost. He might have been looking at Emily, but his gaze was like it was far away, looking off into the distance. Clary looked the same, although she recovered faster.
"You mean, he – it's not possible. He couldn't–"
"Who else could've taken me down?"
That seemed to be the convincing factor, because realization set on Clary's face. Jace on the other hand jumped to his feet. He was pulling at his hair as he paced back and forth, ranting. "It's not possible. He couldn't be back. We – he just – there's no way. Lilith, possibly, but Jonathan couldn't be back."
"Are you calling me a liar?" Emily's voice was a scary calm that even she wasn't prepared for. She wasn't panicking like she was before, but that was a good thing. At least she thought it was. Maybe she was recovering.
"Of course not," Jace said. "And let's say that he is back, hypothetically. I mean, how many times am I going to have to kill this persistent jackass?"
"Can we please focus on the fact that my parents are missing?" Clary practically screamed as she glared at Jace. He seemed to finally realize that his wife was to the point of hysterics and ran towards her as she burst into tears. "I can't lose them, Jace," she cried. "I can't!"
"I know, babe," he said as he shushed her, holding her close to him. Emily suddenly felt like she was intruding on a very intimate moment that wasn't meant for her eyes. So she looked away, towards Chase, who was stirring in his sleep, his eyes darting back and forth under his closed eyelids. "Emily, we'll talk about this later," her father said as he picked her mother up, bridal style. Clary wrapped her arms around Jace, crying into his shoulder, and all Emily do was watch as they slipped out the door, and the room fell to silence.
Well, at least for a few seconds. Turns out, Chase wasn't so much as asleep as Emily thought.
"So Jonathan is back, huh?"
Emily nodded, not looking up at him. She kept picturing her mother's face. The look of terror was something that she couldn't get out of her mind. Her memories of her mother went far back, but she'd never seen her cry or even heard of it happening. Jace seemed just as Emily was, but handled it a whole lot better.
"Look, Emily, I wanted to–"
Emily held her hand up, cutting him off. "Chase, whatever it is, I don't want to hear it. I have bigger things to worry about than whatever is going to come out of your ignorant mouth."
"– apologize."
She jerked her head towards him in shock, her hair flipping lightly in her ponytail. It made her slightly dizzy, but she was getting used to that. Chase had made his way to his a sitting position, and she only now realized that he wasn't wearing a shirt. She was right when she thought about his physique, how he wasn't as built as Conan. She could slightly make the outline of his ribs, and his abs would probably be visible from a mile away, along with the v-line that dipped into the shorts. Emily now agreed with Simon. Chase looked like a runner, not a bodybuilder. Her eyes traced the iratze that was placed just above his right collar bone, and Emily darted her eyes away from his torso quickly, looking back to his face, where he was looking at her with curiosity. His hair was matted and messy, but his eyes were sincere as he gazed at her from under his eyelashes. He looked genuine, but Emily wasn't buying it.
"What the hell do you have to apologize for?"
"I barged into the warehouse like an idiot," he admitted. He looked down to the floor. "And Conan got a hit for it. I vaguely remember the two of you charging in. You were focused on me and Conan was almost killed because of it."
Emily frowned. "Since when do you care what happens to a werewolf?"
"Since I realized that he's not just a werewolf to you," he answered. Emily couldn't deny that, although she cared about him in different ways that what she actually showed. "It's pretty obvious that you care about him, and everything that happened to him was because of me."
"Would you just stop?" Emily threw the white sheets covering her legs away and slid off the bed. Her legs were slightly wobbly but steady enough. Then, she swiveled on Chase who looked genuinely confused. "I don't know what you're up to, but I don't like it. You're an ass, so keep it that way. I have too much to worry about and your change of heart doesn't need to be in my head either, okay?"
Chase slowly slid off the bed, leaning against it for support as he curiously looked at Emily. She could feel herself blushing slightly as he just stared at her. It didn't help that all she was dressed in was a white t-shirt and spandex. It left very little to imagination. "You want me to be the annoying, self-centered, demon-stealing, punk that you've hated for four years?"
Emily found it suddenly hard to say yes as he slowly walked towards her. She back pedaled every step he took. He was surprisingly steady for someone who had a concussion. "That's - it's what I want," she said and cursed herself for sounding so unsure.
He stopped a few feet away from her when her back hit the counter and smiled. "Very well, I have just one thing to ask then."
"What is that?"
Chase looked towards the door. "Your mom wasn't too happy about the fact that her parents were missing. I know the feeling. Losing my father was the hardest thing I've ever had to go through."
When he didn't continue, Emily raised an eyebrow. "Uh, you said you had a question."
"Do you think Jonathan will kill them? Not just Clary's parents, but Maia and Jordan too?"
Leave it to Chase to bring up the one futuristic occurrence that Emily didn't want to think about. The fact of living without Luke or Jocelyn wasn't a happy future. Her mother wouldn't be able to handle it. Losing Robert and Maryse was enough mourning for the time being, and that had been years ago. But Jonathan wanted a show from how he was talking, and she had no doubt that he would make it so.
Emily shook her head and looked towards the tile floor. "Honestly, he won't kill them without my mother being there to watch. But I'm sure he isn't above hurting them to the point that they wish they were dead. What I don't understand is why he let us go."
"That's what worries me," Chase said. "If he let us go, it was for a good reason. He wants us to help find our friends, only to bring us down when we get close enough."
Emily sighed and slowly sunk to the floor, her back against the counter and her legs spread out to the cold touch of the floor. "He's manipulative, and the only way to find them is to follow his orders. My parents were able to get ahead of him at one point, but he's sneaky enough that he tricked my own father. If there was another way, I'd take it. I just don't understand how he's back. My parents made sure that it was impossible that he could never return. I thought it was true, and he just gives me the creeps now that I've seen him in person. One look at him and I wanted to cower into the corner and be invisible. And his voice cuts through you like a knife."
"Try finding out that you were completely unconscious while he's walking around shooting arrows into people." Emily raised an eyebrow at him, but he just shrugged and leaned back against her used bed. "I was awake through your parent's conversation. And no, I don't have any memory loss, in case you were curious. I remember everything from before I was knocked out. So, what do you think we should do now?"
"Prepare. Because if we don't, we'll get slaughtered."