Cynthia was snarling in utter fury as Jonathan held her back, trying to get to the angel boy. He'd left instantly and Jonathan was attempting to pin the girl down, but it was impossible. She wrenched herself away and yanked her panties on, followed by Jonathan's shirt before dashing out the room.

With a groan and roll of eyes, Jonathan pulled on his boxers and jeans, following the commotion. Cynthia had caught up with Jace and had pushed him over the side of the spiral staircase. She was pinning him to the floor with her hands at his throat, her teeth bared and eyes narrowed dangerously.

Jonathan choked as invisible hands tightened around his throat too and ribs stung. One was broken for sure. He yanked Cynthia sharply back by her shoulders and pinned her hands above her head, sitting atop her thighs to stop her from getting up.

"Calm. Down-!" he ordered her, voice constricted. She was going to kill Jace, he was sure. And if that happened, he'd die too.

Cynthia lay there, her chest heaving and breaths coming out in loud, ragged pants. She wasn't looking up at Jonathan, she was staring at Jace who had stood up, his face white and hand on his side over his cracked rib.

He couldn't stop staring back. Cynthia's eyes, once upon a time, were emerald green. Like a forest. But now they were the darkest, most starless night. So black. Like Jonathan's.

"Sebastian-" Jace started, but the demon boy just shot at him, not even looking, "out. Now."

A pause and Jace left. Cynthia didn't say where. She just lay there under him, saying in amusement, "I bet you couldn't wait to do this again."

Jonathan stood up, grabbing her hand and wrenching her to her feet. He grabbed her shoulders and snarled out, "if Jace dies, I die too."

There was a flicker of emotion in Cynthia's eyes, but then it was gone. She shrugged and pulled away, walking back upstairs. Jonathan watched with a cocked brow. There was something off about her, that was for sure. She was never cruel. Well, not much.

Something was wrong with her. Terribly wrong.

Something echoed in Jonathan's memory. Her fear that she was turning into something. Something so dark her old self would just be a shadow.

What if she was right?

-LightInYourNightmare-

When they stopped in London, Cynthia fled. Jonathan was beside himself with anger when he found out, but she truly didn't care. While in the Silent City, she'd made a list. A list of people to kill if she ever got out.

And the first one on her list took her back to the Silent City.

The man sat alone in his cell, staring at the floor. So many years he'd been imprisoned, he'd lost count. He didn't mind it anymore. He had nothing left, after all.

Light filtered through the bars as someone approached. The Brothers with his dinner. But… the sun hadn't set enough for that yet. It was someone else.

"Yes?" he called, sounding grumpy.

"Mr. Thomas Darkstone, yes?"

A pause and he answered with a cocked brow, getting to his feet, "obviously."

"The man who burnt his daughter alive and attempted to kill his wife?"

Silence and Thomas narrowed his eyes. It was a woman. "Show yourself," he commanded. Light footsteps and the witchlight in her hand illuminated the young woman's face. Her eyes looked blacker than the depths of hell themselves as she arched a brow at him, snorting out, "how dare you try and command me. You are nothing. Nothing and no one. The Darkstones are a dead Shadowhunter family name now. Because of you, my mother is in hiding. Ashamed of the beast that is you."

Thomas gazed at her with bored eyes, asking simply, "so?"

The girl laughed softly, then, to his shock, she opened the door and slipped inside. There was a seraph blade in her hand, glowing faintly.

"I want you to beg." She breathed, raising the blade with a smirk upon her lips. "Beg for forgiveness."

"And just why would I do that, little girl?" he laughed, folding his arms. A muscle twitched in Cynthia's jaw and she growled out, "because I'm your daughter. And you owe it to me. Now say it, or I will slaughter you where you stand."

Thomas was staring. He couldn't help it. The young female Shadowhunter was serious. The more he stared, the more he realized that she was telling the truth. She looked just like her mother. Her mother but with black eyes.

All colour drained from his face as he spluttered out, "but you-"

"Died? Yes. I did, you could say. Two months ago when I was in this infernal place myself. Now-" she raised the blade to his throat, snarling out, "say it."

"You're insane," Thomas Darkstone muttered, raising his hands. Gone were the days he would have been able to block an attack. Cynthia arched a brow and stepped forwards, forcing him back until he was pressing up against the cold stone wall. She nicked at his throat with the blade, asking sweetly, "come on, say it."

"Never. Daughter or not, it was all your fault."

Cynthia stared. "Explain."

He shifted uncomfortably. "You weren't a boy. I wanted a boy."

Cynthia laughed darkly. "There's a thing called 'trying again,' you stupid bastard."

"She couldn't have children after you. You ruined everything you little bitch. Everything. The whole Darkstone name."

Cynthia was giggling now, shaking her head. "You did that. Not me. And besides-" she rammed the blade into his stomach, ignoring his scream of agony, adding on, "I found a better father. Valentine Morgenstern. His son is my lover."

"That bastard?" Thomas gasped, a hand going to the blade in his stomach, but Cynthia slammed his head back against the stone wall, hand on his throat as she hissed, "come on daddy Darkstone."

"I'm… I'm sorry, Cynthia. Please."

"Awh you remembered my name," she laughed, twisting the blade sharply in his stomach, noting coldly, "good. I want my name and face to be the last thing you see and think before you die."

He didn't even have time to react as she wrenched the blade out and swung it with a yell, catching him at his throat, neatly severing his head.

She didn't even bother to watch it hit the ground as she walked out.

-LightInYourNightmare-

She was a wanted woman. She knew that very well. But it still didn't stop Cynthia from venturing into Alicante undercover of darkness.

Her feet knew the way, and she let them as she skirted the edges of the city. Before long, she was stood before her mother's house and knocking on the door. A moment later the door opened and the woman just groaned out, "you? Come to ask me about my messed up family again hmm?"

"Actually," Cynthia started, "I came to say Hello. And Goodbye."

"Excuse me?"

Without a word, Cynthia reached up to her neck and undid her necklace, placing it in the woman's hand. It was her Darkstone family crest. The one Jonathan had given her.

The woman just stared at it, then at the girl before her. "By the Angel, how did you get this?" she asked in a hushed whisper, bringing the locket to her chest. "I- This was taken from me. It was for my daughter."

"Lillian Darkstone," Cynthia muttered, reaching out a hand and taking her mothers into it, squeezing lightly. "The past, at times, does come back to haunt us."

"Cynthia-" Lillian whispered brokenly, wrenching her hand away with a gasp, eyes wide in horror. "I couldn't… I couldn't believe the stories from the last few months. That it was really you locked up."

"I'm alive Mother," Cynthia told her, nodding a little. "More alive than I have been in years."

"So it's true?" Lillian asked with her voice tight. "Valentine took you in?"

"Mmhmm." Cynthia nodded. "He found me in the burning ruins of our mansion when I was four. Looked after me. Raised me. I am what he made me, and quite literally." She cocked her head and raised a hand, setting it to her mothers cheek. Lillian was crying. Cynthia traced a thumb across her cheekbones, sighing out, "I just wanted to meet you one more time."

"What?" Lillian's voice was breaking, emerald eyes full of tears. "Don't leave. Just… no. Stay with me my daughter. All these years stolen from us."

"I can't."

"Why not?"

Cynthia smiled sadly. "Because I'm going to die soon."

There was silence until Lillian broke it, saying quietly, "what do you mean?"

"It doesn't matter," Cynthia replied, taking a step backwards, their bodies no longer touching. "Nothing matters anymore."

The woman just stared as the girl walked off. And then she was gone.

The first and last time she saw her daughter.