Amaggiepie and sunshiiine23 get all of the awards for their hard beta work on this chapter. They were supper speedy and super helpful. :)

Warnings: Mature themes including perceived incest, explicit sexual content, and strong language. Immature themes including excessive dash usage and copious amounts of unapologetic relationship angst. Proceed with caution.

Context: This story is set after a City of Glass in which Clary and Jace do NOT figure out that they aren't really brother and sister. They never got the Book of the White to Magnus, so Jocelyn is still comatose. (This ignores City of Fallen Angels entirely.)

Keep the Next Breath

PART NINE

"Well?"

"Well what?"

"Well, aren't you going to start yelling at me?" Clary shivers as Jace gently rubs ointment over the healing cut on her face. The buttery, aloe-scented paste is supposed to keep the laceration from scaring. "You haven't told me how rash and foolish it was to go out on my own, yet."

Jace wipes his hand on a clean rag lying on the bedside table and sets aside the medicinal jar. "Do you want me to yell?"

"No. It's just rare for you to pass up the opportunity." She knows that she's pushing her luck, but there's a part of her that thinks she should be yelled at. If their places were reversed, she would have quite a few angry words for him.

Jace makes a frustrated sound and turns to lean back against the wall, arms hanging limply at his sides.

In the infirmary there is a wall of cabinets that used to be stocked with enough bandages, healing herbs, sutures, needles, and tonics to keep a small army healthy. Since Hodge's death, the supplies have been neglected, dwindling down to just a couple shelves of cloth strips and ointments that never go bad. It reminds Clary that people are always much more than any one person can imagine them to be; they touch so many things.

"I'm angry that you left," Jace says, "that you would risk yourself like that without letting me help you."

"You wouldn't have helped me. You would have stopped me."

Jace looks at her through the fringe of his disheveled hair. "Yes. But you have to understand why…"

"I know," Clary says more softly. "But you have to understand why I had to do it. If I hadn't, he would have kept playing with us. Someone would have gotten hurt."

"I know." As if drawn by a taught line that runs between them, Jace moves towards her, slowly closing the distance until his legs are pressed against her bent knees. "And now there's Sebastian. He wants something from you."

She can feel the Warlock Promise in her pocket, digging into her thigh. "Yes. And if I show up like I said I would, then the warlock will have the Book of the White with him, and we can wake up my mother—"

"Our mother."

"What?"

"She's our mother." His gold eyes are half hidden behind lowered lashes. "When she wakes up, Jocelyn will be my mother even if I don't want her to be and even if she doesn't want me."

"Of course she'll want you," Clary protests, but she can already tell where this is leading. Helpless, she twists her hands in Jace's shirt.

"Then we'll be a family, won't we? She'll probably move into the Institute or demand that we leave, and I'll be your brother more than ever. It won't be like it is now with just the two of us."

She leans forward until her forehead is resting against his shoulder. "I know it will be harder."

"Alec's in love with you. He left Magnus. He—"

"Stop it."

Jace shakes his head. "I feel like I'm losing you." His lips touch her ear, sending shivers down her spine. "They're going to take you away from me."

Her arms go around him. The heat of his back warms her cold fingers. Impossible, she wants to tell him, but it will not reassure him. Words are something a sister can give as easily as a lover can.

She draws her mouth over the skin of his neck and up to the stubbled angle of his jaw. "Make love to me here."

The tension leaves him in the wake of an uneven breath, as his hands squeeze her sides in an unspoken 'thank you.' She slides back, and Jace follows her onto the bed, reaching for her before either of them is settled. It comes easily now, the seeking and the finding, so that the pressure of his palm on her hips tells her lie back, and the arch of her foot on his calf says slowly.

This time they're not racing but grasping something tightly, something that's strengthened the longer they hold out. So when Clary finally comes undone, Jace following close behind her, she feels they've worn each other bone-deep, ruined for anyone else.

[ - ] [ - ] [ - ]

"You're saying I can't physically assault Simon? Ever?"

Leaning against Luke's kitchen counter, Simon gives Isabelle a dry look. "You sound crushed."

"On your behalf."

"Finally." Simon throws his hands up. "Someone who understands—"

"I mean, you'll never get to have kinky sex."

Jace crosses his arms behind his head and stretches his legs out onto the kitchen chair opposite his own. "I don't think that was a possibility before he got the Mark."

"What happens if a girl tries to bite you?" Isabelle wonders, blowing across her mug of steaming hot chocolate. "In a horny way."

"Are you volunteering as test subject?" Jace asks.

Isabelle scoffs. "Of course not. But in the future, some poor, unsuspecting girl may try to bite him and then fall over dead."

"Actually, it was less of a falling and more of an exploding."

Ankles crossed, Jace reclines back in his seat. "It does bring a new poignancy to the phrase 'bite me.'"

Simon frowns. "Now that you mention it, I should probably get rid of that t-shirt. It's suddenly more murderous than ironic."

"Here it is."

As soon as Clary enters the kitchen, Jace's eyes move to her, a reflex he's become more and more aware of over the last week. It's a tell he's given up trying to control, one he feels is rather harmless. It's worth it to always catch Clary looking back.

She's hoisting a wide, thick book that bears signs of age and water damage. It hits the table with a clattering thud that almost sends Isabelle's drink toppling over. "I remember coming across this when we were doing all that research. It's a complete analysis of the Bible."

Simon eyes the hefty tome. "It's definitely rocking the whole "big and old" thing. I'm already convinced of its authority."

"A Shadowhunter wrote it about 50 years ago. This is just the first volume, which should include Genesis…"

"Which mentions the Mark of Cain," Simon finishes, dragging the book towards him and earning an annoyed glare from Isabelle when she has to maneuver out of his way.

Clary nods. "I'm not sure if it will be helpful, but we don't have anything else to go off of." She hides a yawn behind her hand and then rubs at her eyes.

Aside from Isabelle, none of them have slept since their late night outing, though Jace thinks Clary might have dozed off for a few minutes in the infirmary. Even now, he feels the buzz of adrenaline that hasn't dissipated since Alec woke him up and told him Clary was gone. So when he hears someone approaching the front door of the house, he's on his feet and has his seraph blade drawn before the others even stop to listen in.

"What's—"

A key turns in the lock. The door swings open on noisy hinges, and heavy footsteps grow louder until a stocky, disheveled figure fills the entryway to the kitchen.

Clary lights up. "Luke!"

The werewolf gives her a harried, sideways smile. "Hey, kiddo."

She's taken two steps towards him, when Maia appears from behind Luke's bulky frame. The moment Clary spots her, the smile falls from Clary's face and she hesitates moving closer.

Jace's hand clenches around the hilt of the seraph blade as he looks from Maia to Clary to Luke, trying to assess the situation. But Luke doesn't falter. He closes the distance between him and Clary and pulls her into a fatherly hug that seems to convince her of his ignorance as much as it does Jace. She wraps her arms tightly around him, eyes closed and a relieved sigh on her lips.

Maia hasn't told him.

Jace forces his body to relax.

"Why didn't you tell me you were coming back?" Clary asks as she and Luke separate.

"No time. Last-minute plans."

Maia walks past them into the kitchen. She looks over Simon's shoulder at the book, which he has opened to the table of contents. "Doing some light reading, huh?"

"Thought I would try reading for pleasure again."

Maia grins. Isabelle rolls her eyes.

"Not that I mind you guys being here," Luke says as he squeezes Clary's shoulder, "but I know a dusty bookstore isn't exactly the most exciting place to"—he gestures to Isabelle draped elegantly over a kitchen chair—"hang out."

"We've been here a couple of times to do research." If Jace hadn't been watching Clary so intently, he would have missed the way her eyes darted to him on the last word. But she continues on naturally. "I wrote to you about the strange demon activity and that thing that attacked us."

Luke nods.

"Well, there was another attack last night. In the park. There were several Bryne demons who attacked Simon and me. But when they tried to hurt Simon, they died. It was like they were killed in mid-air by something invisible."

Luke catches on quickly. "You think it has something to do with the Mark of Cain?"

"And the Lord said unto him, 'Therefore whosoever slayeth Cain, vengeance shall be taken on him sevenfold. And the Lord set a mark upon Cain, lest any finding him, should kill him,'" Simon reads.

"Sounds like a probable explanation," Luke offers but doesn't seem to have any additional insight. "Was the Bryne attack unprovoked like the last one?"

"They were after Clary."

Luke looks at Jace as if noticing him for the first time since his arrival. Something unnamable crosses the older man's face. "What do you mean?"

"The warlock who was pretending to be Hayden was there last night."

Luke's eyebrows come together over the rims of his glasses. "Who's Hayden?"

Clary bites her bottom lip. "I haven't had a chance to write you about everything that's happened."

Sighing, Luke sets down the bulky pack hanging on his shoulder and takes a seat at the kitchen table. "Then I guess you better tell me everything now."

Instead of pulling Clary down onto his lap like he wants to, Jace moves his feet off the final chair so that she can join them. Briefly, she explains the time they spent with the person they thought was Hayden, the strange circumstances surrounding his death, and the lock of hair they found in his room. Luke's expression grows graver and graver as she talks..

"Until last night," Clary concludes, "we weren't sure what it was that had been impersonating him. He told me he did it using magic from the Book of the White."

"So this warlock is the person who's been controlling the demon activity in the city?" Luke watches the group exchange reluctant glances. "There's more?"

"He got the Book of the White from Sebastian," Clary says finally. "That's who he's working for."

It was a rare thing to see Luke caught of his guard, but the surprise was clear on his face. "Sebastian? The Shadowhunter boy who worked with Valentine?"

"That's the one," Isabelle said darkly into her mug.

"And he wants something from Clary?"

She takes a small stone from her pocket—the one she hadn't let out of her sight since last night—and places it carefully on the table. "It's a Warlock Promise."

Luke picks it up. "I've heard of them. What was the bargain?"

"I have to meet him and Sebastian next Friday night, and in return he'll bring the Book of the White and wake up Mom."

Luke draws a hand across the scruff on his chin and looks a few years older than when he first walked into the room. "Is that everything?"

"Yes."

A knock sounds on the front door just before it's opened. A moment later, Alec joins them in the kitchen. He heads straight for Clary. "There was one book at Magnus' that mentions Warlock Promises, and it said—Luke. Maia." His eyes widen briefly when they land on Clary's surrogate father sitting across the table from them. In a moment of self-consciousness, Alec takes a half-step away from her.

Isabelle blinks. "Oh. Right. And Alec's madly in love with Clary. Besides that, that's everything."

Alec shoots Isabelle a piercing look. "It's a long story."

Luke looks between the two of them. He shakes his head. "Right. You can explain that one to me later. Do your parents know about the deal for next Friday?"

"Oh, they don't know anything," Isabelle says with a wave of her hand. "They were gone this morning when we got up. Well, when I got up. Apparently everyone else was already awake. Don't ask me how Mom and Dad managed to get out without them realizing."

"The Institute isn't exactly small," Clary mumbles, and despite the situation Jace has to smother a grin because he knows exactly why they hadn't noticed.

"They probably left to go meet with the hefty delegation of Shadowhunters who arrived from Idris the same time I did."

That catches Jace's attention. "I thought our "lack of demons" problem wasn't problematic enough for the Clave to bother with."

"It wasn't," Luke says. "Until they realized that a shard of the Mortal Sword had been stolen."

"What?"

Luke sighs. "Apparently, the Silent Brothers have been aware for a while that a small piece was missing, but it was attributed to damage caused to it while in Valentine's possession. The only other people who knew were the Consul and Inquisitor, and they really didn't think much of it."

"And the complete absence of demons in New York City didn't clue them in?" Isabelle retorts.

"Demon activity was unusual everywhere after the battle in Idris. The Clave was short-handed and scrambling to regain control. Having one less place to worry about was convenient. It wasn't until I forced the issue that they took a second look at the sword and decided it was worth investigating.

"Hence the Shadowhunters they've sent," says Clary.

Jace crosses his arms. "Sebastian has the shard."

"That's what it's starting to look like," Luke agrees.

"Then we'll get it back Friday night." Alec's voice is firm with resolve. "Along with the Book of the White."

And Sebastian's life.

It's the unspoken promise that has Jace nodding his agreement.

[ - ] [ - ] [ - ]

Nine Shadowhunters move into the Institute, taking over a handful of the unoccupied rooms that are always prepared for this exact sort of circumstance. Clary recognizes a couple of them from her brief stint in Idris. Among the guests are Patrick and Jia Penhallow, Aline's parents and Sebastian's aunt and uncle—though they express doubt as to whether or nothe was truly the Sebastian Verlac they knew only as a young child. It's difficult to confirm his identity because the family members Sebastian grew up with in Paris were all found dead in their home immediately following the battle in Idris.

But Clary supposes that it doesn't actually matter. Whoever he is, he killed Max and helped Valentine take dozens of other lives. And no matter what his name might be, he has the Book of the White and a shard of the Mortal Sword. He's proven that he's dangerous.

Clary effectively exiles herself to the training room during the week they have to prepare for the inevitable encounter. The first day, Clary is summoned by Maryse to give a detailed account of her run-in with the warlock. The group of adult Shadowhunters listens intently and then dismisses her before they begin their strategizing. Clary doesn't mind. No amount of planning will prepare her for what she has to do. She needs to train. She needs to be able to rely on her body because it is the only one she has. And if she focuses on that, then her mind will not wander to dangerous places.

The second morning, Alec is in the training room before her. He is there to continue her training while his parents are focused on organizing the new arrivals and the Clave's efforts. That's all he tells her before they begin. Clary is both relieved and uncertain as she follows him onto the mats.

[ - ] [ - ] [ - ]

"Do you think it will really work?" Clary asks Luke as she hands him a paper cup of coffee.

Jocelyn is as still and silent as ever in her hospital bed. With Luke in the room, Clary finds herself looking at her mother more closely, finding the small changes since she was first admitted. Jocelyn's hair is longer than Clary has even seen it, and it's as if the red color has been consequently stretched, like a little bit of paint spread over too much canvas. It does not shine under the fluorescent lights. Having gone so long without the sun, her complexion is pale, so that the scars of her old Marks are nearly indecipherable. The permanent runes stand out like black spiders on her skin.

Luke, too battle-tried to be anything but a realist, says, "I hope so. If Magnus seemed to think it would work, then I would say it's a good possibility. He's been around a long time."

"Then we'll be a family, won't we?" Jace's words find their way onto her lips. "You'll come back to New York, and things will be better."

Luke is as still as her mother, and Clary is suddenly mourning both of her parents. "We'll see."

Her lashes grow heavy with kept tears. "You can't leave again. I missed you."

I needed you.

Luke is at a loss. "I had obligations in Idris."

"But you're the only family I have, and mom wasn't here."

"You have Jonathan."

Outside, clouds cross in front of the sun and the room dims with a passing darkness. "But that's different."

[ - ] [ - ] [ - ]

"I'm going to kill him."

"I know."

Jace sits on the floor of the weapons room, an array of blades spread neatly about him in a circle that glints like the halo of light surrounding a star. He is drawing runes onto the handle of a seraph blade, giving it the life it will need to, in turn, take life away.

Clary stands just outside the ring, watching.

"They're letting us fight," he says. "Isabelle and I. If Sebastian has the shard of the Mortal Sword, then he could have a host of demons at his command, and he may bring some with him when he comes to meet you. We have to be prepared, but I doubt it will come to that." "He thinks you'll keep your promise so that you can get the book. He won't expect us."

"I know." Clary stares at the dagger in her hands—small, slim, easily concealed, but deadly sharp.

Jace's fingers touch her cheek, and Clary looks up into his bright eyes. She hadn't even heard him get up. "We'll find another way," he tells her. "We'll get the book another way, and Magnus can do the spell. I promise we'll wake Jocelyn up."

Clary covers his hand with hers. "I know." She turns her head and kisses his palm.

[ - ] [ - ] [ - ]

Clary's body hits the mat for the sixth time in as many minutes. There's a moment when she just stares up at the rafters and the early afternoon light coming in from the high, gothic windows. But then she's back on her feet and reclaiming the defensive stance that has become second nature. Alec's arm swings towards her between blinks, and she barely has the chance to deflect the strike before he's grabbed the wrist of her other hand and spun her around into his body, one arms locked over her chest, the other hooked around her neck. She tries to get her foot behind the back of his knee, but he catches her toes beneath his heel. She's trapped.

Clary grunts. "Yield."

When he releases her, she hobbles forward several steps, shaking out her foot and rubbing at her wrist. Alec never really hurts her, but he does get more physical with her than Robert. She's glad that he's not afraid to push.

Clary turns toward him now, hands raised in case he comes at her right away, but he's not even looking at her. He's heading off the mats, toward the bench where their water bottles are.

"I think that's enough of that," Alec says, his chest rising and falling quickly from the exertion of their sparring. They've been at it all morning. "I'm just beating up on you now."

"I'm not that awful." She's actually proud of the improvements she's made since the summer, when she didn't even know how to throw a punch.

"You weren't," Alec agrees. "But you're too tired. We can pick it up again later."

Reluctantly, Clary let her arms drop to her sides. They feel heavy, but it's a good heaviness, a good tired. She pulls at the clinging material of her sweaty shirt until she finds a dry spot to dab against the corners of her eyes. When she raises her head, she notices Alec watching her, but when their gazes meet, he looks away.

With her heart rate slowing, there is nothing to drown out her thoughts as they crowd up around her, louder than they were before she started working out. The training room is silent and stark in a way that begs disruption. "Jace said you were looking for me the other night," she says, and the words sound too loud and indelicate in her ears. More softly she adds, "You were the one who noticed I was gone."

Alec appears very interested in the cap of his water bottle. "Yeah, I was."

"Why?"

He shrugs. "I guess I wanted to talk about what I had said."

"About being in love with me?"

His eyes flash up to find hers. "Yeah. That."

"Look, Alec, I understand," she says, and the words come so easily to her that they feel rehearsed. "You don't have any control over the way you feel, and it wasn't your choice for it to be this way. I'm just not sure what we're supposed to do until things go back to the way they were before."

Setting aside the bottle, Alec shakes his head. "Everyone keeps telling me it will go away. That this,"—he gestures to the space between them as if there is something tangible there—"is only temporary. But it doesn't feel that way."

"Then how does it feel?"

"Like…I can't remember what it was like before—when I didn't love you."

Clary bites down on her lip until it hurts. "Is it…Are you attracted to me? Physically, I mean," she hurries to add when he looks at her uncomprehendingly. "Because Isabelle's right. I'm a girl and you…"

Alec begins removing his gloves, undoing the snaps around the wrist and then lightly tossing them aside. In three steps, he's closed the distance between them. There's no hesitation when he raises his hand to her chin and gently tips it up so that she meets his eyes. He's looking at her in a familiar way, and there's no second guessing his intention as his lips near hers. He pauses just before they meet, but she doesn't pull away. He kisses her and she lets him.

His lips are chapped and warm. He's taller than either Simon or Jace, and she reflexively grasps the hem of his shirt to keep her balance as he leans over her. Beyond that, Clary remains perfectly still, allowing him to softly meet her mouth once and then twice. The first time is proof; the second is an unspoken possibility so fragile that it fades as soon as he draws away.

They're still close enough that Clary can feel his breath on her cheek. The heat left by his touch dissipates slowly. "Alec, I can't…"

"I know. It wouldn't be fair. But I wanted to." He steps back. "Just once."

[ - ] [ - ] [ - ]

It's Thursday night. Everyone is keyed up after six days of restless waiting and biding of time, so Isabelle suggests that they meet up at Taki's for a dinner that will help "chill everyone the fuck out." Clary gets the text as she's leaving the small grocery store down the street from the Institute. She's the first one there, so she grabs the biggest table they have—a corner booth with a bright vinyl wrap-around bench seat. Jace arrives a few moments later, and he slides around next to her. They hold hands beneath the table and listen to the tangle of customer voices that thinly veil the R&B music playing over the speaker system. Clary wants to lay her head on his shoulder but doesn't.

She hasn't decided whether or not to tell Jace about the kiss.

The kiss. Barely a kiss. More of a confession, really. She felt it as words spoken so intimately they had left a physical memory on her skin. Alec's touch had said nothing that Jace doesn't already know: "I love you, and I can't pretend that I don't."

And yet, at the same time, it was more than that. The kiss conveyed an addendum, an "I love you, and I can't pretend that I don't, and I am not afraid." She's not sure that's something she could communicate to Jace.

Clary is pondering this when Maia arrives. She greets them as mildly as always. But now that it's just the three of them, Clary thinks there's something like pity in the way Maia looks at the two of them sitting close together but not visibly touching. It makes Clary uncomfortable, and she grips Jace's hand more tightly.

"Still no word from Magnus?" Maia asks, an unambiguous attempt at small talk.

"No," Clary answers. "He's still…traveling."

"Alec seems to be taking it well. I mean, I know we're all kind of busy with this Sebastian thing at the moment, but I thought he would be more worried."

"It's complicated," Jace deadpans.

Clary doesn't have more than a moment to worry about his rudeness before Alec, Isabelle and Simon file into the front door of Taki's all at once. There's some squishing and some rearranging, and Jace and Clary are finally forced to relinquish their hold on one another as the waiter comes to take everyone's order. Clary avoids catching Alec's gaze.

As they wait for their food, the conversation quickly turns to plans for the next day.

"I'm tired of waiting. I'm ready to see that bastard bleed," Isabelle declares while squeezing a lemon into her water glass. "And he's mine, Jace, so don't get in my way."

Alec, who has collapsed back against the cushioned seat, shakes his head. "I want Sebastian to pay as much you guys, but you can't be reckless about it. He's dangerous."

"We're not going to be reckless. We're going to be passionate. And single-minded. Passionately single-minded." Jace does not smile when he says this, and Clary is glad that he is not looking at her. She's afraid he might see something in her face.

"Just remember that we are following a plan. Mom and Dad's plan." Alec crosses his arms. "We've all been assigned a part."

"Yeah." Isabelle uses her straw to swirl the ice cubes in her drink. "I've been assigned to kill things."

Jace's shoulder rises and falls in a half-shrug. "And my job is to kill things better than Isabelle."

"I walk around and let things try to kill me," Simon says sourly.

Sympathetically, Clary lays her hand over his on the table top. "You don't have to go if you don't want to. There are going to be plenty of other people there to take care of the fighting."

But Simon shakes his head. "No way am I missing this. I'm not going to sit back and relax while you risk your life."

Isabelle is looking at their intertwined hands. "Clary does have the unfair advantage of getting close to Sebastian before anyone else does."

Jace's fingers dig into of Clary's thigh. Under the pretense of smoothing the napkin across her lap, she strokes the inside of his wrist reassuringly. Forcing neutrality into her voice, she says, "I guess you and Jace will have some competition then."

[ - ] [ - ] [ - ]

Clary allows Jace to lead her out of the elevator, their hands still clasped together. It's late. The first ones to arrive at Taki's, they were also the last to leave. She can't remember what excuse Jace gave-something about wanting Clary to try a new desert on the menu, or some other equally flimsy pretext. No one questioned them, of course, being brother and sister and two Shadowhunters who are perfectly capable of walking home at night. If Maia gave them a knowing look, Clary didn't see it.

Now, after spending the last couple of hours talking quietly and holding hands in the back of a Mundane movie theater—a place they were certain not to be recognized—she and Jace have returned to a dark, silent Institute. It feels eerily like the calm that sets in before an approaching storm. They walk down the halls, through a barracks of warriors sleeping only so that tomorrow they may test their strength. By the time she and Jace reach her door, Clary feels the indolent mood of the evening wearing away. The reality of what tomorrow could bring sits like something heavy on her conscience.

"Jace," she says, dropping his hand and turning to face him, "there's something I should tell you."

His fingers, warm and calloused, touch her face and then slide back into her loose hair. His eyes seem to catch what little light there is in the corridor. They flicker like candle flames. "Tell me after tomorrow," he says and then kisses her until there is nothing more important than kissing him back.

Clary rises up onto her toes, arms looping around his neck. She feels solid wood at her back when the weight of Jace's body pins her against the door, and yet this isn't close enough. Her fingers slip beneath the collar of his shirt. She finds the faded rune scar at the top of his spine.

There's a sound like a door opening, and Jace moves away quickly, stepping back until two feet of darkness separate them. Clary leans breathlessly back against the door. They wait, watching and listening, until a small gray form emerges noiselessly from the shadows.

Jace swears. Clary breathes a sigh of relief. "Church."

Jace looks at the cat with contempt. "He tried to out us, you know. Last week when Alec was looking for you, the little beast brought him to my room."

"I'm sure he just thought he was being helpful," Clary says, crouching down to scratch the top of Church's head. The cat rolls onto his side encouragingly, and she rubs his exposed belly.

"Helpful?" Jace scoffs. "He's manipulative. And fat."

Church yowls quietly and then purrs as Clary continues her ministrations.

"And entirely too pleased with himself."

"Jealous?"

"Hardly." Gently taking hold of her upper-arms, Jace draws her back onto her feet. "I'm the one who gets to see you without any clothes on."

"Shhh," she hushes him—pointlessly, because they're alone. "Be quiet."

Jace grins a devilish smile and draws her body in against his. "Or what?"

"Or Church will get your place on my bed tonight."

"He can have it." His lips brush against hers as he speaks. "Because you'll be on mine."

Without any more ceremony, Jace draws her over to his own door. As she follows him inside, she thinks she hears something move in the dark. But she looks back, and there is only Church, sitting and watching them with his yellow eyes.

Author's Note Of Actual Importance: Just to give you guys an idea of where we're at, I'm estimating that there are about three chapters left of this story. Could be one more or one less, but right now three is my best guess based on what still needs to be covered (including the showdown next chapter!). I'm working on a couple more outtakes, and I'll give out the new password to them in my review responses to this chapter. REMEMBER: as much as I love all of the reviews I get, I cannot respond to anonymous reviews or to people who have their private messaging disabled (So, unfortunately, I won't be able to give you the password.)

Also, I have another TMI oneshot that I've recently written, and I need someone to look it over, make edits, and give general feedback. So if you're interested, please let me know. Just so you're aware, it's kind of a long oneshot, and it's a rare pairing. But I really need a beta! So don't be shy! lol.