Cynthia was the first to wake the next morning, comfortably encircled in warm bare arms. At first she thought it was Jonathan, that they were still at the cottage. But no; it was a Jonathan, but the other one. She let her eyes open and glance up from the chest her head was resting upon.

He was still fast asleep, his chest rising and falling regularly. Cynthia laid her head back down upon his chest, closing her eyes and listened to the regular soothing heartbeat underneath her ear.

It was only a few minuets later when a hand trailed its way slowly up her bare back that Cynthia opened her eyes once more, staring at the foot of the bed, tracing the runes upon his chest with a finger as she listened to the boy below her mutter out "Good morning."

She laughed lightly at that, burying her face into his chest and letting her eyes close again. "A very good morning" she told him.

There was silence until Jace broke it by saying lightly "We shouldn't have done that last night."

Cynthia had to agree, but all she said was "Do you regret it?"

"No. Do you?"

"Not at all." She turned around to gaze up into his face now, frowning a little and raising a hand to cup his cheek. "You look so very tired."

"Well, I for one found last night very rig-"

"I didn't mean last night. I meant in general." Cynthia interrupted with, stroking his cheek with her thumb. The boy rolled his eyes and raised a hand, pulling hers away. "I'm a Shadowhunter, Cyn. We don't sit on our arses and do nothing all day."

"Are you just going to keep making excuses huh? You suck Jace."

"Well what do you want me to say?"

"That you used me last night."

He went very still at that before muttering out "I wasn't using you. How can-" but he was silenced by Cynthia pressing a finger to his lips, turning over and onto her knees before him. She leaned forwards and removed her finger, telling him softly with their lips very nearly touching. "You wanted a distraction. We both wanted one."

Jace was silent as he gazed into her eyes that seemed as dark as Sebastian's downstairs, wondering just how that had happened. They were a bright forest green the time he'd known her at the mansion.

"Valentine raised us both, you know that right?" he said quietly and Cynthia nodded, raising a hand once again and set it to his cheek, pressing a soft kiss to his lips before resting her forehead against his own. "Yes I know."

"Doesn't that… bother you?"

"Jace. This will probably sound insane… but I had the best of times living with you and Valentine."

Jace snorted at that, nipping softly at her bottom lip while his hands rested upon her bare back. "I can see why you think of that period of your life with fondness. Valentine loved you. He never raised a hand to you. Never." He chuckled lightly at that "He bought you up to be exquisite and beautiful, Cynthia."

Cynthia felt sad at the boys words- if only he knew that she was still living with him. But no… if he did find out, he would hate her for eternity. That day was fast approaching, she knew.

Instead of answering, Cynthia just crashed her lips to his own and told him a moment later "He raised you too, Jace. You truly have no idea just how exquisite you are as well. You are a god among insects. We both are." She paused before telling him hesitantly. "Before he… split us up. Sent me away…" she trailed off, swallowing hard. He waited patiently and she continued with "I thought you were dead Jonathan. Just like he made you think he was dead. I thought you dead for all those years when I was growing up until I found you in New York." Cynthia realized she had tears in her eyes now as she added "I never left you Jace. I thought you had left me."

His face was blank, expressionless at that. After a moments hesitation, the boy raised a hand and brushed away her tears with a frown creasing his features. "It's all in the past now Cyn" he told her soothingly, cupping her face gently. "All in the past."

Cynthia nodded and laughed brokenly, sitting up and causing his hands to fall away, wiping her eyes on the bed covers. She nodded again and just went, getting to her feet "You need to hold onto hope, Jace. No matter how impossible." She threw the boy his clothes, telling him "Come on. Let's go down and have breakfast with our heads held high and no shame."

A smirk twitched onto his face at that, catching the shirt she threw at him. Cynthia ignored his occasional stares as she got dressed. The mirror before her was perfect for spying on the boy behind her anyway.

It was as Cynthia reached for her hairbrush to tame her wild hair that the door was shoved roughly open. She spun around, yanking the hem of her dress down as she saw Clary stood there. The fire headed girl looked stunned at the sight before her eyes; Jace in just his jeans, chest bare and his hair wild. Cynthia in her crumpled up dress and equally as messy hair.

Cynthia could tell the girl wanted to speak, to say something, but she beat her too it as she snapped out coldly. "That door was locked for a reason. Out."

Clary's eyes flashed at that, retorting with "Who do you think you are?" as she squared up to the girl. She didn't intimidate Cynthia in the slightest. Clary was tiny compared to Cynthia's height.

"Cynthia Darkstone. The girl who gave your brother more pleasure than you could ever achieve. Go back to whatever shit hole you came from."

There was silence, and then the only thing Jace saw was both girls leaping at each other, Cynthia grabbing the girl by her hair and throwing her away from her, snarling out with her midnight eyes blazing "You little bitch-!" as she started forwards. Jace caught her, pinning her arms behind her back and held on as tight as possible as she raged, attempting to punch the red head again.

There was a clatter and the rest of the house arrived. Cynthia was past all calming down as Jonathan joined in with holding her, pushing Jace aside and pressing her against the wall, hissing into her ear "You've made your point, now calm. Down."

Jonathan's grip was harder than Jace's had been, more forceful too. Cynthia knew he wouldn't lower his defenses one bit. He'd hold her there all day if he had to.

Very slowly, Cynthia came down from her rage and Jonathan took the opportunity to throw the girl over his shoulder, telling them as he passed "I'll talk to her."

Cynthia didn't fight the demon boy as he walked them out of the house and around the back of the house, walking until they reached the canal. He set her down with a cocked brow, simply saying "Now. What was that all about?"

"I lost my temper." She snapped, getting to her feet and smoothed the front of her dress, chest heaving from the pure and utter rage. I would have killed her if I had the chance she realized with a jolt, looking to Jonathan. He was staring at her intently and Cynthia sighed out, her voice much more calmer "I don't know what's happening to me."

Jonathan raised a hand and brushed the stray strands of honey colored hair from her midnight eyes, saying quietly "Your eyes are midnight."

"What does that mean?" she asked quietly and Jonathan shook his head, genuinely clueless as he replied with "I have no idea."

"You must have noticed though. The more demon blood I drink, the more…" she paused "the more angry I become." She met his dark eyes now as she told him in a worried voice "Now will you believe me when I say I'm turning into something I don't like?"

"Yes I believe you. Just… try not to kill anyone in that house. Yet at least?"

There was silence and Cynthia flashed him a sweet smile, telling him "A shame you weren't there last night. It was a wild one. So… did it work? Feel jealous even the teeny weensiest little bit?"

Jonathan rolled his eyes at that, and Cynthia smirked broadly- mission accomplished. Silence fell until they heard hurried footsteps retreating down the street and together they spied Clary dashing away as if hell was chasing her.

"See you later" Jonathan told her and before Cynthia could say anything else, he had gone. Dashed after her.

"Love you too (!)" Cynthia muttered under her breath, turning around and making her way back towards the Penhallows. But as she stared at the place, she realized she couldn't go back in. Not yet at least.

Instead, she chose to wander Alicante once more. She liked to find the houses with the prettiest trim, the neatest runes marking the outside. Some even had the family name carved into the door.

She wished she had her camera with her as she explored the Southern side of the city. It was beautiful. The light of the demon towers as the sun hit it reflected over the little houses, lighting them up like they were made of adamas.

Cynthia stopped at the last house along the row, feeling the bottom drop out of her stomach-

Why was the word Darkstone carved into the door?

She just stared at the door, feeling utterly numb and sick. Was this… no. It wasn't possible. But then something at the back of her mind reminded her

Their names weren't in the graveyard. Only yours. What if… they did get out of that fire? That they thought you'd died?

Cynthia felt utterly and completely terrified as she stared at the house, backing away from it as if it were some deadly creature that wanted to kill her. Her breath was catching in her throat. But then she stopped her receding footsteps and turned, steeling herself as she told herself knock on that door and ask. Pretend you're someone from the Clave. Anything. They can't be them. They must be some other Darkstone.

Cynthia walked forwards and raised a hand to the knocker that was in the shape of a horses head and knocked a few times. Her heart was hammering against her chest as she waited what seemed was an eternity for the door to open. When it did, a middle aged woman with long flowing dark blonde hair stood there, her bare arms inked with runes and an inquisitive look upon her face as she asked "Yes dear?"

"Are you a… Darkstone?" Cynthia asked curiously. Silence and the woman nodded, frowning a little. "Are you lost?"

"No. I just wanted to know… did you have a daughter? Who died when she was four in a fire?"

The woman's face went white and she spluttered out "Go away."

"I just-"

"You obviously know the rumors! Why are you bringing up all the agony of the past?! Who do you think you are to knock upon my door when you obviously know what happened!"

"Please Mrs. Darkstone-"

She groaned in utter disgust at that, her emerald eyes narrowing "Don't call me that. Never, ever call me that."

"Why?" Cynthia was shocked utterly and completely. The woman, her mother, just laughed at that, tears of anger sparkling in her eyes as she spat out "Why would I want to bare the name of the man that killed our daughter and tried to kill me?"

The door was slammed shut in Cynthia's face and she let a broken sob escape her, covering her hand with her mouth as the horror hit her. Her mothers words were still ringing inside her head-

Why would I want to bare the name of the man that killed our daughter and tried to kill me?

Her… father had set that house alight? Had Valentine known that her parents, her mother at least, were alive? She concluded that he didn't. Her mother had dug herself into the back of Alicante where she wouldn't be bothered. The shame of it all had probably hurt her more than anything else. That and losing her daughter and husband.

Cynthia was just in shock. Never had she contested the thought that her parents were dead, burned in that fire.

She just ran back to the Penhallows, holding back her tears as she dashed through the house, looking for Jonathan. He was back from escorting Clary home, sat in his room. His expression was alarmed as she burst out crying as soon as she locked the door behind her and slid down it, pulling her knees up to her chest and burying her face into them.

"Cyn?" Jonathan just went, utterly taken aback- this was so out of character for her. He tossed the book aside and got to his feet, crouching down before her and took her face into his hands, forcing her tear streaked face to look at him.

She just shook her head and buried her face into his neck, hugging him tightly and let out a sob into his neck, leaving the demon boy even more confused.

What now? He just thought in annoyance as he smoothed her hair back soothingly, rolling his eyes as he realized her crying was going to ruin his shirt.