Okay, okay. I'm an awful person (not at all sarcastic here). I haven't updated in more than two weeks, and I feel horrible.

Honestly, I'm not going to plague anyone with excuses. Just one word. School.

Oh well. Everyone deals with it. But I really hope this makes up for it.

This story will be over in a few chapters… but I haven't written anymore yet. I have no idea when I'll next update- just hang in there. This is quite a short chapter, but the next should be longer.

Also, can just one person please let me know if my TID idea is worth considering? I'm still pretty unsure as to whether I'm going to do it or not.

Valentine started forward, and without a second thought, the Consul pierced his heart and unsheathed his blade from his chest. The pained expression in his eyes was more than enough to let Clary know that it hadn't been without thought, or vengeance, either, but he should have been killed on sight by Covenant law. But there was absolutely no time to dwell on that now. The room had exploded in ruckus.

Jonathan (… Sebastian?) had disappeared, and Clary still hadn't worked out what was going on between the Lightwoods and him. She looked around frantically, her head spinning as she struggled to take in the whole room once more. Jace had disappeared off somewhere as well, but she thought she could see his golden head bent, talking to the Consul. Alec was beside his sister, both of them looking completely dejected and broken. Clary's heart thudded painfully as she remembered that Maryse had another son- barely seven years old when she last saw him at a Conclave meeting she was observing for her training. He had hidden behind his mother at the Institute's large desk, and then was gently but hurriedly pushed out of the room. And his name was… Max. He must've got in Jonathan's way one too many times. As her stomach dropped, she closed her eyes as his image flashed before her eyes once again. He's barely looked five at seven, scrawny little kid he was. And his glasses were askew, she bet in a characteristic look, clutching a manga book to his chest.

She idly wondered why she hadn't been aware of any other Lightwood kids, but she was soon jerked out of that thought by a sharp elbow in her back. She swung around, arms up in a defensive position until she realized it was just Simon.

"He moved so fast… my vampire vision could barely… track him!" Simon yelled over the din, parts of his sentence cut out by the noise. "Over there!" he pointed at a high beam of the weapons room ceiling and Clary followed his arm. Perched on a beam- and precarious as his position was- Jonathan wore a savage grin. No blood was being shed, but it looked like he relished the chaos anyway. His gaze fastened on Izzy and Alec, and his smirk widened. Adrenaline poured into her veins.

I won't let you hurt them. She thought at him fiercely. Not any of them- even Alec. No one would have been able to predict what could have happened next, if Clary hadn't been watching him so closely and knew him so well. No remorse or compassion, and someone whose father had just been killed- nothing good could come of that. The moment his hand flickered, Clary had her stele out, pushing past Simon roughly to draw a rune on the closest wall. The wooden planks of the wall began to warp and twist with her latest design. She dashed to the other side of the room, calling on her extra angelic blood to power her along, and hurriedly traced the same design onto the opposite wall. The air above them began to glisten above them, a few feet above Clary's head and everyone paused in their frantic activity. All that was left was a group of silent Shadowhunters, their gazes locked n the air overhead them. Jonathan singled her out of the crowd, a look of hatred brewing in his black eyes. He shifted the demonic blade at her. Clary lifted her chin determinedly. She knew what it would do to her, and there was no way the shielding would be done by then. Jonathan had a deadly precise aim.

Her mind raced. This wasn't meant to be her death. She was meant to go down fighting- not turned dark through an allegiance with demons that would surely kill her straight away- all because her brother threw a stupid enchanted dagger at her. After a moment of indecision, she hurled herself at Jonathan. There was a moment resistance as she passed through the half-formed 'force field', and time practically slowed down. Jonathan's black eyes betrayed a hint of surprise, yet his face was as calm as a deadly mask. Clary heard herself screaming as if from a distance, and she didn't know if it was a war cry or a cry of terror- or a cross between both. Vaguely, she knew that it was likely she was going to die. But to accept that? A different matter entirely.

Clary avoided the blade aimed at her at the last second as she landed, twisting and feeling the soft snick of shearing fabric as it tore through her gear and the hard thump of her feet landing on the wooden beam. Triumphantly, she glanced at Jonathan, but he already had an identical blade in hand.

She expected him to hurl it straight away, but he bided his time, watching her every move and flicker of muscles. There was no way to beat him. None. She felt despair creeping over her, clinging like a vine to a fence, strangling her and breaking her battle focus. Jonathan saw it, saw it and leapt forward inhumanely fast, dark snake eyes glittering and his lips stretched into a sneer. Clary stumbled backwards. Jonathan was still coming forward. She caught her heel and fell, pain shooting up her elbows and back. He stood over her, dagger poised and ready to deliver a killing blow. Her stomach dropped. No, no, no, no! This couldn't happen!

She kicked at his legs, but he was too quick, stepping backwards. Once again, the blade stabbed through the air. Clary could almost hear the low whine as it cut towards her- too fast. No time to move, no time to think, to react. A golden blur tackled Jonathan off the beam as she felt a searing pain in her stomach. The pain. She gasped. It was worse than when the Eidolon sunk its teeth into her leg. Worse than any pain she'd felt before. Worse because it was her blood that was in pain- the war between the angel blood and demon dagger had begun, and it wouldn't ever stop. Agony. Torment. Suffering. Pictures of what her life - her very short life was going to be like flashed before her eyes. Agony. Torment. Suffering. Serving demons before they killed her- one of the angel's own as a play toy, and one with extra angel blood.

Agony.

Torment.

Suffering.