Here we go, less than 24 hours after the last chapter because you guys are awesome and also a little scary. Buckle up, these last few chapters are going to be long ones.


Jace had never been religious, but at that moment, he liked to believe there was life after death. As everyone close to death would.

"Jace, we need to move," Isabelle's urgent whisper barely registered. "…can you move?"

Slumped against a wall, sweating, he wasn't sure he could answer.

"God, Jace, we need to hide. Shit…"

Jace wished he could help. Really, he did. The desperation in Isabelle's voice made him want to leap from his position and prepare for the fight that was no doubt headed for them. It was only a matter of time before the two were discovered, before the infamous traitor was recognized, and the armada came crashing down around them. But as much as he wanted to, Jace couldn't save them. With every second that passed where Jace's body refused to move, he was actively destroying them.

He heard what sounded like footsteps coming closer followed by a filthy slew of hushed cursing from Isabelle before she murmured, "I have a plan. Don't freak out and just play along."

Then, there was a firm pressure on his lips as she passionately threw herself against him. The shock was enough to wake him from his spell, bursting his eyes wide open. His hands moved to her waist instinctually, prepared to push her away, when her words hit him. Instead, he pulled her closer, as close as he could, and hoped she had a damn good reason for the show. His lips now moved in sync with hers, though he wasn't sure her addition of tongue was quite necessary. Isabelle raked her hands through his hair in a desperate thrash, moving as if he were her only source of air. He felt a tug and, with a slight roll of his eyes, his hands moved to catch Isabelle's legs as they wrapped themselves around him.

In the midst of their display, they could hear a group of snickers walk passed. Jace felt his heartbeat accelerate rapidly until the giggling faded. After a few beats of silence afterward, the two paused.

"Are they gone?" Isabelle whispered, her breath fanning his lips. He opened his eyes to the now desolate hallway and nodded. As soon as he did, the two wasted no time jumping away from one another.

"Was that really necessary?" Jace scowled at the unfazed girl readjusting her clothing. She rolled her eyes at him.

"Well, considering you were practically comatose in the hallway I didn't exactly have many options unless I wanted them to see you and blow our entire cover. I just had to bank on them not being perverts so they wouldn't look too closely at Valentine's Most Wanted."

It wasn't a bad plan, he had to admit. And Isabelle Lightwood certainly wasn't the worst kisser. Yet, he couldn't help but feel annoyed that now he not only had to break it to Clary that he was dying, but that he and Isabelle had been forced to make out but it didn't actually mean anything.

The thought of Clary made him wipe his lips, as if he could erase the strategically necessary betrayal. Isabelle scoffed at him.

"Chill, Jace. It wasn't like kissing you was a dream either. I honestly wonder what Clary sees in you. Way too much manhandling for my taste."

"Thanks for the review, however misguided it might be," and, despite the situation, Jace smirked cockily at her in a way that felt both achingly familiar and foreign. "Trust me, I have many references who say the contrary and much more. Maybe it's you that's the problem."

They had a mission. A time sensitive plan. A damsel in need of rescuing by her golden god of a half dead hero. Yet, their banter made him feel lighter, more awake. Maybe it also had something to do with Clary being somewhere in that same building. She was closer than she had been in days. He had to see her. His most recent episode was just a reminder that he needed to work quicker.

Isabelle glanced at him as the two began to match pace forwards.

"They're getting worse," Isabelle said, referring to his spreading virus. "The attacks are getting closer together."

"That's what happens when you're dying."

"Shut up."

He sighed but consented all the same. A beat passed before she murmured, "Say what you want about my kissing, but it must have been good enough to resuscitate you considering you couldn't even walk ten minutes ago."

Just like that, a smirk pulled at his lips. She winked at him jokingly.

"It was just so bad that I knew I had to move just to get away from you."

The joking worked as a distraction from the danger they currently faced while searching the building for signs of Alec, Valentine, or Clary. But no amount of distraction could fully pull his thoughts away from the red hair he imagined around every corner. Was she hurting at that moment, feet away from where he stood? What if he passed her, oblivious, while she cried his name for help? He shook those thoughts aside. Not only were they not doing him any good, but he also knew Clary would more likely be cursing at him than crying out for him to save her. It was the first thing he had ever loved about her. He was closer to death, but he was also closer to her. Jace intended to win this race.

"Holy shit," Isabelle whispered. Once again, Jace had gotten distracted by thoughts of Clary and failed to see a group of Valentine's people exiting what Jace recognized as the kitchens. He shook his head, grasping Isabelle's wrist and ducking into a shadowy alcove.

"It's okay," he said. "They're too far away. They didn't notice us."

But Isabelle was shaking. Jace's brows furrowed, looking at her. It wasn't like this had been the first encounter they had come across and in others they had been much closer to being caught. What could have been causing this reaction from her?

"It's them," she growled, clenching her fists tightly. "The old people who stole our medicine, our supplies, your supplies."

It was now Jace realized Isabelle wasn't shaking from fear, but anger.

"They were working for Valentine all along." It was clear that the revelation wasn't for Jace, but for herself. "They deserve to die like him."

Jace caught her wrist as she rushed forward.

"Let go," she spat, eyes trained on the prey she longed to kill. "You should want them dead too. They nearly killed Clary spreading that blood on the ground. They stole whatever it was that you took from Valentine and most likely delivered it to him on a silver platter."

Jace's grip faltered just enough for Isabelle to wrench herself free. And as much as he knew he should, he didn't have it in himself to stop her. But he didn't have to. She barely made it two steps before another had her locked within their grip, trapping her. Jace froze, though he couldn't see their face. Move, his mind urged him, just as he was hit by another coughing fit that rendered him useless. What good are you trying to burst in here and save everyone when you can't even save yourself?

"Let me go," Isabelle hissed, thrashing in her captor's arms. He grunted but didn't relent.

"You have to stop this Isabelle."

Immediately, the fight fell from her body. And though Jace could barely breathe from the coughs racking his body, he felt whatever breath was left catch at the familiar voice. Amidst the shadowy alcove, a beam of light brushed over the angular features of Isabelle's brother. And, the one he had once called friend.

Isabelle laughed sardonically. "I have to stop this? Tough words for you to say, big brother. After all, you could have stopped all of this. It's because of you that Max and I were alone when their group—which it turns out you were a part of—came and killed all of our people. It's because of you that the two of us were then forced to run after you sheltered us and Max was bitten. And then these people that you want to protect stole any medicine that might have helped him."

From Jace's position, he could see the hunched shoulders of someone broken inside. Alec's deep blue eyes were flushed with tears at the mention of his little brother.

"I know about Max," he choked. "And I know what you must think of me. I think the same when I lie awake at night. But killing them is not the answer. You want to blame someone for his death, then blame me. But no matter who you blame, it won't change things."

"He deserves vengeance. Justice."

"He deserves more than any of us, but that doesn't mean we should continue inflicting pain and calling it justice. Max wouldn't want this."

"How would you know?" Tears were now streaming down Isabelle's cheeks. "You weren't there. You didn't have to watch him die."

There was a pause as Alec looked away from her, from guilt or shame Jace couldn't be sure. His adam's apple throbbed before he looked back to her.

"I never left by choice. Valentine and his men took me and Magnus to torture us for information on our group. Every day, for six weeks, I was tortured. He told me he would let us go if we told them what they wanted. I made a deal instead: he could do whatever he wanted to me and I would stay as long as he promised you and Max would be safe."

He took in a breath, his voice choking and eyes shining as he continued, "I never left you, I stayed to keep you safe. And after Jace blew up Valentine's lab and killed his scientist, forcing Magnus to be his replacement, I began working for Valentine to buy his freedom. Everything I've ever done has been for those I love. You can hate me, but don't act like I didn't care enough about our family!"

Isabelle shook her head, her will to fight shattering completely as she fell into the comforting embrace of the big brother she was tired of pushing away. A sob escaped him as he greedily wrapped his arms around her. The two siblings sank to the floor, sobbing, but together. None of them were completely blameless, but they were capable of being forgiven. Jace hoped that if there was anything after death, he could be forgiven too.

"Alec," a new voice interrupted. "The herd is moving towards us. If we're going to do this, we have to move soon. And we may not be able to go back for Clarissa."

It was like lightning had been jammed straight through him. Jace burst up, his gaze hard at the new figure.

"We aren't doing anything without Clary."

The man looked at Jace with distaste.

"Well, if it isn't the one responsible for my months of captivity and slavery," he clucked. "Though you may have fantasized about rushing in and saving her with a brilliant blaze of glory and heroism, this is a much larger operation than you and your week long romance."

"Magnus," Alec chided. Magnus regarded him with a sigh and a flourish of his hand.

"Fine. A herd is coming that none of us are fit to fight our way out of. Alexander and I have found a map of The Institute that shows a bunker equipped to hold the camp's inhabitants with enough food to survive at least a few months. To ensure the survival of humanity, we have to gather everyone and when the herd arrives, trigger the explosives we'll have set up."

"What does that have to do with Clary?" Isabelle protested before Jace could. Magnus's expression grew mournful.

"Valentine forced me to participate in much that I am not proud of. If Clarissa survives the next ten minutes, then that fate will be forced upon her. Alec and I examined every option, but she's too close to Valentine at the moment. If we were to attempt to rescue her, there would be no time to save us all."

And though Magnus had his reasons to despise Jace, he looked at him with genuine pity. The expression alone made all the hope he had stubbornly held on to wither inside.

"I'm sorry. Truly. But I've run the numbers and there just wouldn't be time."

Jace could hear his pulse thrum at an increasing pace. Red flashed in his vision, blinding him. Kill him, the voices inside hissed. Make him pay. Make him bleeeeeed. And he wanted to. Until he remembered Clary. He couldn't give in to the growing beast that lived within when she was still out there. Magnus had said there wouldn't be enough time to make it back and survive. But what if he wasn't destined to survive anyway?

"I'll go," Jace said, not leaving any room for argument. "Just tell me where she is."

"It's a suicide mission," Magnus argued. Alec's eyes were equally wide, but Isabelle knew. Her chest had deflated and her eyes watered, but she understood. His eyes met hers and she nodded. He smiled sadly in return. He had done his part returning her to her family. She would be safe now. It was time to say goodbye.

"I'm already dead." With a shaking hand, he tore back his sleeve to expose the red hot bite stark against his skin. "I'm not going with you anyways. I can save her."

Alec and Magnus paled at the sight of his condition. Jace saw Alec swallow roughly, looking at him. The two shared a look, a reminder of the past history they had shared. Within the walls of The Institute, Alec and Jace had been friends. And though their friendship had been put aside as the two found themselves on opposing sides, and Jace became the accidental catalyst to his boyfriend's enslavement, it was still there. Jace faked a smile.

"Hey, we always knew I'd be the first to go down."

Alec frowned. "That's because you were never careful."

"At least you don't have to be stuck in a bunker with me."

Though Jace had been trying to lighten the mood, the air stilled. His chest felt considerably tighter when he turned to Magnus.

"Let me be the one to set off the explosives. I can be your eyes on the ground to make sure they go off at the right moment after Clary is safe. And I'll make sure Valentine goes down with me."

Magnus spared a glance at Alec, who was looking anywhere but Jace with stubbornly crossed arms. Jace could barely detect the smallest of nods passed between the two. Isabelle bit her lip before running to capture him in a hug.

"Thank you," she whispered, "for not making me watch you die too."

He nodded into her neck.

"I could say the same for you," he responded, quiet enough to conceal his words from Isabelle's brother. She ducked her head, no doubt remembering how close she had been to giving up completely.

"Hey," he caught her attention gently. "Not many could do what you did. You're one of the strongest people I've ever met. If I had to bet on anyone who could survive this place, my money's on you."

She released him, brushed back a tear, and stepped back. Alec was next. He looked to be internally debating, which wasn't anything particularly unusual, but this looked more serious. His hands fiddled with something Jace couldn't see.

"So far this whole dying thing has sucked," Jace remarked blithely. "Maybe it'll teach me to listen to you next time."

"You still won't."

Jace cracked a smile.

"Nah, you're right. I'm hopeless."

Alec pursed his lips once more. Magnus eyed the two carefully.

"Alexander, you don't have to—"

"No, I do. I can. I just—" Alec returned his gaze to Jace. "I need you to tell Clary that I'm sorry I couldn't protect her like I promised. And, I forgive her for not telling me about Max."

He inhaled nervously. "I also need you to tell her that Jem was a success. And, if she chooses, there can be another."

He held out his hand, revealing a rectangular wooden box with scorched edges. Jace eyed it warily.

"Give it to her. She'll understand."

Jace wanted to ask who Jem was and what was inside, but time was ticking. He wanted to see her so badly. He took the box with a nod, tucking it inside his jacket. He turned to Magnus, who held the detonation trigger in his hand.

"Clary will need to be at least 600 meters away from the blast, but I imagine the bigger problem will be the herd. Though if she survives her current predicament I imagine she might stand a chance."

Jace nodded. "We'll cross that road when we get there."

Magnus made a disapproving sound in the back of his throat. Clearly, the news of Jace's death hadn't done much to clear the bad blood he felt towards him. Jace couldn't blame him.

"Valentine has her trapped in the West Wing where Alec was first held as a prisoner. I'm sure you already know that Valentine will most likely be near and is probably already aware of your presence?"

"I'm counting on it," he replied grimly, turning away from the three and beginning to move. Time was ticking.

"Even if you save her," Magnus's voice called to him grimly, "you're damning her to a fate where she has to watch you die and becomes alone once more. Is this fate kinder?"

Jace didn't turn back. He couldn't. He couldn't wonder whether Magnus was right, or if saving her was selfish, he could only move. He had to.


Ten, twenty, thirty…

Too many. There were too many for her to take. Too many...

The knife felt heavy in Clary's shaking hand. For a moment, she glanced down, staring at her own reflection in the deadly blade. Could she do it? The blade edged closer to her heart. It would be over quickly, her mind rationalized. You would die on your own terms, not theirs, not Valentine's.

She felt a sharp pressure prick her chest. It would only take a push. That was all she needed. Just one…

"I need you to promise me that, if I don't make it, you'll keep fighting. That you'll be strong."

Her brother's voice rang through her head, stopping her, nearly destroying her. She had made a promise. Even if she died in the coming moments, she would have to honor it. Valentine had taken everything away from her. Her friends, her weapons, her safety, her life. Jace. But he wouldn't take the fight from her.

She cast the blade in her hand away from her chest and into the zombie that she had been too distracted to notice. A choke escaped her, which grew into a growl. I'll show you what a real survivor looks like. Her gaze narrowed and she plunged the knife downwards in a steady rip. A slurping sound followed as her parallel slice opened and all of the zombie's blood, guts, and tissue spilled outwards. Clary breathed in, the stench overwhelming her senses and making her throat feel tight with the urge to throw up.

Not now. If this would truly be her final moments, she would not show weakness. It was time to make her brother proud. And, she knew Jace would never forgive her if she went out without a fight.

Jace…

A new shade of red blinded Clary's vision. She lashed out, all attack and no strategy but to kill. She wanted to make them hurt. She wanted them all to bleed. Cut, stab, rip, tear, claw. All she saw was blood. Never before had she so longed to kill, but it felt right. It felt powerful. It felt…

Clary dropped her knife. It clattered to the ground, causing a few zombies to look up, but they didn't come towards her. There must have been at least fifty zombies in the room, circling and milling about the space aimlessly. The one she had so mercilessly slaughtered lay at her feet, blood and guts drowning her bare feet. She stared at the scene, no longer so much afraid, but confused. Why were they not rushing to kill her? Why were they acting as if there wasn't a living, breathing human practically served up on a platter?

Am I seriously not good enough for them to want to eat? She couldn't help but feel offended. Damn picky zombies. They'd be lucky to get a piece of me. I bet I'd be tasty as hell!

She continued to stare openly at the room and its milling occupants before braving the movement it would take to retrieve the knife she had dropped. A head or two turned in her direction but lost interest in her just as quickly before continuing their existence of wandering and moaning. Her mouth fell open, gawking, before immediately closing and spitting out the disgusting new taste in her mouth as quietly as possible. She had underestimated how much of the zombie's guts had gotten on her in the midst of her brutality. Thick liquid the shade of menstruation coated her from head to toe. With a shiver, she flicked off whatever organ had somehow landed upon her shoulder. What organ it was, she didn't want to know. Her hand went to brush off more of the disgusting slime from her skin when she paused.

The gears in her brain were turning at high gear, though her ration was telling her the idea was insane. Absolutely, batshit crazy. It had been just a rumor she had heard. Some campfire story that survivors had told as a joke, or maybe as some drugged up trip. She hadn't cared to spend enough time with them to find out the answer. But if the story was true…

Slowly, with her heart beating faster than she could ever remember, Clary stepped over the body of the zombie she had killed, entering into the herd. She tensed, her hand gripping her sad excuse for a knife as if it could shield her from whatever pain was surely about to come. They had just wanted their meal to come to them, her mind rationalized. Oh god, it's going to hurt when they all tear into you at once, you stupid girl.

A zombie was moving toward her, closer and closer. Her breath stilled to the point she was almost sure she had killed herself on sight. It moved past, bumping into her slightly but paying her no mind. She nearly fell to the ground and cried, whether from joy or fear or exhilaration she was yet to be sure.

They couldn't see her. That much was obvious. By being covered in the zombie's blood, she had inadvertently given herself a shield. Slowly, a grin began to form. The reality settled in upon her and she repeated it like a chant as if to convince herself of the truth. They think you're one of them. They can't see you. You're going to live.

Her grip flexed around the knife in her hand and the grin grew wider. She would survive, but they would not. She would make sure of it.

The way she moved across the room was like a dance. Each stab was a beat to a victorious choreography. They all fell, one by one. By the end, Clary couldn't remember ever seeing so much blood. So much carnage. Some part of her mind whispered to her, nagged at her. They were all human once too.

"We all were human once," she whispered to an empty room. "Now, I have to make sure we have the chance to reclaim what that means."

To do that, Valentine had to die. Clary took one last glance around the room. What is more blood, she thought, when we all bleed the same anyways.

It was only after exiting the room she had been sure she would die in that she began to question whether it was all a dream. Could it be real that she was alive, breathing, heart beating, pulse thrumming as if on fire? Was she meant to survive, and keep surviving, after all this time? After all she had been through?

"Clary." Her name was exhaled as a breath and suddenly she found herself breathless. She knew that voice. She knew its owner.

"I'm dreaming," she murmured absently, not turning. The weight had settled upon her chest like a sick thud. It had been too good to be true. It had been—

"Clary, please, for the love of god, look at me."

Her breath caught, but she listened to the voice that she knew as well as her own heartbeat. It was only when she was looking at him that she realized how scared she had been that she wouldn't see him again. She had tried to dissuade the thought, of course, but it had prodded at her nonetheless.

"Jace."

He took her in, still a few feet away. She could make out the adam's apple in his throat bob as he looked at her. No, not at her, she realized. She was still drenched in blood and gore from the remnants of her massacre. A wave of self consciousness flooded over her and she wrapped her arms around herself tightly. The reality of what had just been done was sinking in. And it was Jace's fault, she knew. It was when he first arrived in her life that he made her care rather than just trying to survive. And now, she knew that she cared about what he thought of her. Would he think she was disgusting? That she didn't have to kill them all; that she could have just left instead of killing out of a sick sense of pleasure? It wasn't about survival, it was about revenge for making her afraid.

It all hit her at once. Everything. Being kidnapped, what Valentine said to her, not knowing if she would see Jace again, and being faced with the closest she had ever come to death. Tears began to well up and everything began to flow from her at once. She needed to get it out.

"I—there were so many of them and they were everywhere and I thought I would die and Valentine, the things he said—"

Her throat felt tighter and more constricted with each word that rushed out of her mouth, but soon all of that was erased by Jace crushing her body to his own and stealing her lips in one swoop. It didn't matter that she was covered in blood or that his hands trembled as he held her. He was there. And wrapped up in him, she could feel safe again. Even as he pulled away, looking at her as if the building was set to explode at any moment.

"This building is going to explode, we have to hurry," he breathed, already beginning to pull her down the corridor. Clary blinked, her eyes going wide.

"Wait, what?"

Jace carried on as if he hadn't heard her.

"But that isn't even the biggest of our problems. There's a herd headed directly for us—the biggest yet—and I have to make sure you're safe."

"They won't be a problem. I figured it out! When I was trapped in the room with the herd, all I had was a knife and when I cut one and their guts spilled over me, it masked my scent and I was able to walk through them. All we need to do is cover you in the guts and we can walk through—"

Jace had stopped his mad dash, turning slowly to look at her. There was something in his gaze that made it feel like he was looking at a stranger.

"Clary," he spoke carefully, studying her, "that doesn't work. I've seen people try it before and they were eaten on the spot."

She shook her head. "But, it worked for me. I—"

"What exactly did Valentine say to you before? Did he do anything to you or—"

Clary ripped her arm from Jace as he begun inspecting her for signs of tampering.

"The real question is what you're trying to imply. I wouldn't lie to you! Maybe those other guys just didn't do it right!"

Jace paused, furrowing his gaze as he took her in. Finally, he shook his head saying, "you're right. I'm sorry. I…I was just being paranoid. I'm sorry."

He took her in his arms, and she let him, but she wondered whether he truly believed her or was just trying to make himself believe her. Following his lead, she shook the thoughts away, kissing him once more. How had she spent so many weeks with him, not realizing how good kissing him would feel? He smiled into her lips, likely wondering the same.

"God, I missed you," he murmured, clutching her tighter against him. "I'm not letting you out of my sight until I die."

She grinned, getting that girly fluttering within her that she was learning to enjoy. She leaned into him and with a flirty husk that she reserved only for him whispered, "Well I guess we better make sure that isn't for a long time."

Jace sucked in a breath sharply, clutching her to him even tighter.

"I'm sorry," he breathed into her hair. "I'm so sorry."

"Jace?" She pulled away, looking up at him. He was trembling more than he had before, which immediately struck her as odd as she had always known him to be steady and precise. A pit was stirring in her gut, telling her something was wrong. She looked to him desperately, urging him to quiet the gnawing.

"I—" he paused, caught on her eyes. Whatever he was about to say to her died in his throat. Instead, he reached into his jacket and retrieved a small wooden box.

"Alec. He uh…he wanted me to give this to you. He said he forgave you about Max and was sorry. And he wanted me to tell you that Jem was a success and if you choose, there can be another."

Clary took the box, her brows furrowing.

"Who's Jem? And what does that mean 'if I choose'?"

Jace shook his head. "I don't know but," he cupped her cheek with his palm, his expression desperate, "there's something else I need to tell you."

"Jace, you're scaring me."

He chuckled, though nothing about his expression showed humor.

"Just know that I love you, I do, and I don't regret loving you. Which is why I'm sorry because—"

Jace paused, stumbling a bit. Her heart raced as she moved to steady him.

"Jace, what's—"

No sooner had the words left her lips had Jace collapsed, his eyes rolling back in his head.

"Jace!" She slid to the floor with him, shaking him desperately. "Jace, what's wrong? What happened? Jace!"

"My dear, didn't I warn you that you would watch everyone you loved die?"

Valentine.


And here is where we collectively die. Okay, so I know you guys are worried about how this story is going to end. A lot of you have said you're afraid to read the next chapter. So I'm just going to ask that you all trust me. It's going to be okay.

But, now that we've said our goodbyes to Alec, Magnus, and Isabelle we move to a Clary-Jace-Valentine showdown. The next chapter is going to be good. I'm going to raise the bar to 18 reviews for an immediate update and I hope I can see you guys real soon.

-Anika