A/N: Hello again, my pretties! Sorry I took so long, my netbook is being dumb :l I hope you all like this chapter! Next one is all written up, so reviews will get it up faster!
~I Heart Herondale Boys~
Make You Feel My Love
Chapter Four: I Could Offer You A Warm Embrace
Jace noticed that Clary had been gone for a while, and he became worried. He began pushing his way through the packed crowd of sweaty dancers to the bathroom, where she was supposed to be.
He found it empty.
Well, other than a folded piece of paper.
Gingerly, he reached out to grab and unfold it.
The note read:
Don't bother looking for Clarissa. You won't find her.
Jace's eyes widened, and a feeling of dread spread through him. Clary was gone; no, she'd been taken.
Numbly, he made his way out of the bathroom and over to where Isabelle was dancing with Ratface—well, Simon, but Jace preferred to think of him as Ratface—and held the note out to her.
She looked confused. "What's this, Jace?" she asked.
"Just read it!" he shouted over the blaring music.
Isabelle nodded, and her eyes scanned over the short note, widening when she finished. "Clary—Oh God, Jace," she murmured, her hand flying up to cover her mouth. "What do we do?"
Jace pinched the bridge of his nose. He was starting to get a headache. "I don't know, Izzy."
Simon looked back and forth between the two. "What is it? What's wrong?"
Wordlessly, Isabelle held the note out to him.
When he finished, he dropped the note, looking pale. "Oh, shit!" he exclaimed. "Oh my God, oh God . . ." he mumbled.
Jace leaned down to pick up the note, then grabbed Isabelle's arm. He pulled her over to where Alec stood, talking to Magnus. He noticed, with a hint of disdain, that Simon had followed.
"Alec, we have to go. Now," he said, his voice urgent.
"Why?" Alec asked, tearing his gaze from the tall, glittery host.
"Someone took Clary," Isabelle put in impatiently, tapping her foot.
"Oh. Well, yeah, then." He turned to Magnus. "Mags, did you see the little red-head with anyone other than us?"
Silently, Magnus pulled all of them to his bedroom.
If this hadn't been a dire situation, Jace would have commented that he wasn't up for a gang-bang. Instead, he stayed silent.
Magnus spoke. "I did, but trust me when I say that you really don't want to go after her," he said gravely.
Jace wasn't having that. "Why the hell not?" he asked angrily.
"She was with Valentine Morgenstern's men."
Jace stiffened at the name, but no one seemed to notice.
"So?" Isabelle asked.
"You shouldn't get yourselves involved in this. Valentine is extremely dangerous."
Jace cleared his throat. "I don't care," he said indignantly. "I promised Jocelyn that I'd take care of Clary, and I don't break my promises."
Magnus sighed. "Listen, Blondie—" "—Jace" "Jace, Blondie, same difference. But, are you sure?"
Jace nodded. He'd never been so sure in his life. The need to protect the small, beautiful, fiery-haired girl with an equally hot temper was overwhelming.
Magnus sighed. "Fine. I guess I have no other choice than telling you where Valentine most likely is taking her." Magnus proceeded to give them an address in Brooklyn.
"Be careful," he warned the group. "I don't need your deaths on my hands."
They all nodded. "Thank you, Magnus," Jace said quietly.
"No problem. Oh, and, Allie?" he said, turning to Alec. He winked. "Call me." Alec blushed furiously, but nodded. Izzy and Jace knew that he was gay, but their parents still didn't.
As they were turning to leave, Magnus stopped them again. "Oh, one more thing?"
Jace sighed in exasperation. "What, Magnus?"
"Clary is . . . Valentine's daughter."
The room was silent, save for the music blasting outside the bedroom door.
It was broken by Simon. "WHAT?" he screeched.
"Jesus, are you deaf? I said that Clary is Valentine's daughter," he replied, rolling his eyes.
"But . . . but . . . I thought that Luke was Clary's father!" Simon exclaimed. He was pale as sheet.
Magnus shook his head. "Jocelyn married Luke when Clary was a baby. I'm sure that she believes wholeheartedly that Luke is her father, but he isn't."
Isabelle eyed him. "How do you know all of this?" she asked. Jace had been about to ask the same thing.
"Honey, I know everything," Magnus replied mysteriously, winking.
Izzy rolled her eyes. "Whatever. Thanks for the info and the party, Mags."
Magnus grinned. "Anytime, Iz. Now go and save your little friend from the clutches of the bad, bad men."
Without sticking around to hear any more, Jace took off, running as fast as he could. The others didn't have a chance of catching up with him, but it didn't matter. Only saving Clary mattered.
He paused after a while, listening. He thought he'd heard something . . . yes. There is was. A high-pitched whimpering noise, and a harsher, male voice.
Jace's eyes widened, and he took off in the direction of the noise.
He found Clary in an alley, a tall, muscular man hulking over her small form. The dress was torn to shreds, and she had a nasty looking bruise on her temple, and smaller bruises dotted her arms.
"Please don't do this," she begged, tears streaming down her pale, beautiful face.
The man laughed. "Sorry, dollface"—his accent was that of a typical New-Yorker—"but I can't resist. You're too pretty for your own good. Valentine'll have my head, but, hey, at least I get some fun first."
"Please," she reiterated, whimpering pathetically.
Jace chose the moment that the man slid his finger beneath one of Clary's bra straps to intervene.
"Get. Your. Filthy. Hands. Away. From. Her," he snarled.
The man looked up in surprise, and Jace saw that it was one of the men from earlier.
"Jace," Clary breathed, sounding amazed.
"Shut up!" the man growled, slapping her across the face with enough force to send her flying into the wall.
Jace roared with anger, his rage levels off the charts. He charged at the slime-ball, tackling him to the ground. He threw multiple punches to the guy's face until he was unconscious, his face covered in blood.
Wiping the blood from his hands, he went over to check on Clary. Her eyes were closed, her body crumpled against the wall. Jace swore softly, pulling his shirt off to slip it over her head. She moaned softly at the movement, sounding pained.
He lifted her gently, and she moaned again, louder this time. He sat against the wall, holding her tightly to his chest.
He watched her eyes flutter open, and promptly fill with tears. She buried her face in his chest, and he felt her tears against his bare skin.
"Jace—Oh my God, Jace. I—He was going to rape me, Jace. Oh God," she whimpered.
He stroked her hair soothingly until she began hiccupping.
"Thank you," she whispered. "God, Jace, if you wouldn't have gotten there when you did—"
Jace's finger over her lips silenced her. "Shh, don't think about that. The important thing is that you're okay now, Clare." Biting his lip, he asked, "Are you okay?"
Sniffling, she nodded. "I'm just glad you got there before he could actually do anything other than hit me."
Gingerly, Jace grabbed her arm, holding it out so that he could inspect it. Bruises blossomed along the length of it, making Jace's blood boil.
He took a calming breath. "Just don't think about it, okay? I was there, and I got you in time."
Clary nodded and sat up on his knee, hugging him tightly. When she pulled back, there was something intense in her green eyes.
He knew what she was going to do before she did it, so he met her halfway.
She may have tasted like alcohol, but her lips were warm, soft, and the best thing he'd ever felt on his. Clary was different from any other girl he'd kissed—which was saying something, because there was a long list. He felt the connection on a deeper level—and it scared him.
To love is to destroy, and to be loved is to be destroyed.
The phrase left his mind as Clary began trailing her fingers up and down his bare chest, sending tingles through his veins and shivers down his spine.
Yes, Clarissa Fray was definitely different from the others.
So? Was it okay? I have the flu and I've been like, living off advil, so it might be messed up :P who knows, though?
Like I said, the next chapter is all typed up, so review review review!