LAST CHAPTER!

I'd really like to thank everyone who read this story, and stuck with it. I've gotten nothing but positive and constructive comments. So to all the followers, reviewers (most recently, xXDustAngelXx) and... favoriters?

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the story! Also, thoughts on an epilogue and later, a sequel?

Something was nudging her towards consciousness a tugging, coaxing feeling. But it would not let up. Clary groaned a passed a hand over her eyes. "Go away." She mumbled.

"I could. But I have some interesting things to tell you, and I'm quite sure you would want to listen."

"Plus, you want to see me. Don't deny it."

Clary sat bolt upright. Dancing between her fingers were bright cerulean sparks, and above those sparks was Tessa's highly amused face. Standing behind her was Jace. His golden looks were only enhanced by the dazzling light that was now coming in from the window in the same place that she was healed… and she still didn't know where that was. His ever-present smirk was fixed on his face, and Clary's stomach tingled. And then noticed the proximity in which he was standing to Tessa. She beat down feelings of jealousy. Did she really expect Jace- the player from school- to wait around for her? Don't answer that. She told herself.

"Knew you wanted to see me." Clary couldn't resist rolling her eyes and responding with her own smirk.

"It was Tessa's comment that made me wake up actually. What I wanted to do with you…" she paused relishing the semi-shocked look on his face, "…was get you out of my bedroom. Also, it was a bit of a delayed reaction."

"You're a Shadowhunter. Those reactions aren't that delayed." Clary swung her legs out of the bed to stand up. And promptly crumpled to the floor. She flung out her arms, trying to grab something, but her hands grasped empty air, and she hit the floor- hard.

"About those reflexes…" Jace laughed quietly in her ear as he helped her up. His warm breath sent shivers down her neck, but instead of letting him know, she glared at him- and quickly stopped as she realized he just proved her own point. Tessa cleared her throat and Clary turned around quickly, ready to fight but put off guard by the smile on her face. Who is this girl? She wondered. It seemed like she had some sort of obsession with Jace, but their relationship didn't seem to bother her at all.

Silently, she followed them to what turned out to be the kitchen. They sat around a large dining table not dissimilar to the one in the Morgenstern country house. The views were much the same, too. So, Idris?

Clary relaxed into a plush chair that cradled her tired body. The surface of the table was cool beneath her fingers, and she longed to rest her aching head on it. "The first thing you should know," Tessa started, her grey eyes drilling into Clary's green ones, "is that I am a warlock." She automatically searched for a mark, not finding anything out of place or unusual- but if she was a warlock, where was the mark? She searched her brain for a scrap of information that could be relevant. "And no, I do not have a mark."

Clary blushed and looked away, her eyes resting on an old family tree. She squinted to read the name at the top. 'Herondale' was written in curlicue script. In a country house, located in Idris with- Clary cast a quick look around the room- the Herondale crest over a few objects- it could only be their manor house. Wait… did the warlock just say she didn't have a mark?

Tessa met her astonished gaze. "My father was a demon- like all warlocks- and my mother… she was a Shadowhunter."

"But the offspring of Shadowhunters and demons are—"

"Stillborn. I know. Apparently, since my mother had no runes, it was possible. Anyhow, it gave me certain abilities."

Tessa took a deep breath, gazing out of the window as she did so, but Clary got the feeling that she wasn't really seeing anything at all. Rather, she was lost in her own memories- things that she must have amassed so many of. Was there a point when you stopped distinguishing between times, and people? Did the years pass like hours, seconds? One vampire she was sent to kill practically begged for her to cut the tie. No matter what lies beyond this… he had whispered raggedly; it can't be worse.

I don't know what's real anymore. The blur of faces- old, young, happy, sad- most of them are human. And I hate them, because they don't value how truly lucky they are. To know that you might have another chance— that's priceless.

Clary jerked herself out of her own memories. No point in remembering. It was what it was, and it was staying that way. She returned her mind to the conversation, but it seemed Tessa hadn't been speaking either. She took another deep breath, the air flooding into her lungs and filling the empty space in her chest.

"I can carry children. My line still continues today, though it has only come to light in the past few days. I believe that Jace," his head turned expectantly at his name "is the last Herondale alive today."

"What? I'm a Wayland." He shook his head. "I think you've got the wrong idea."

"Valentine," Tessa said gently, watching Jace's face whiten alarmingly, "and Hodge were the only two people knew that the Herondale baby lived, because they cut it out of Celine's stomach. Valentine brought the baby- you- to the Wayland manor and assumed Michael Wayland's identity. The real Waylands died in the Uprising, somehow. I assume he meant to use that to his advantage sometime, but he never got the chance. His hair was dyed, but surely you felt some spark of recognition when you saw him."

"A little," Jace's voice was strained, and his knuckles were distressingly pale where they were clenched at his sides.

"Think it over." Tessa called as Jace eased out of his seat and started walking toward the door.

"I don't really understand what this has to do with me." Clary spoke hesitantly.

"For Herondales, I think, there is only one woman for them." She turned her soft gaze around. "I would know." She whispered.

Clary found herself nodding, understanding only partially what Tessa was saying. "I should—"

"Go? Yes, I think you should, too. I will not think you rude."

She mumbled thanks and hurried in the same direction Jace had just taken.

"Come on." Clary huffed impatiently to herself. She was in a small clearing, not unlike the one Jace had taken her to, seemingly so long ago. A small stream burbled past and out into the forest, while tall trees surrounded her, shading the glade in a soft sunlight. "Where are you, Jace Herondale?" She froze. The name had popped out her mouth so casually. It just fit.

"It does." A soft voice resounded from behind her. "Fit, that is."

Jace rounded from her back to her side, just coming into the edge of her peripheral vision.

"How did you know what I was thinking?" asked Clary, finding her voice- quite an act, after the shock he gave her.

He shrugged, a careless movement that sent muscles rippling across his shoulders. He sent her a lazy grin. He knew she was watching- well, when did he not?

She spun to face him. "So, how do you really feel about this whole Herondale thing?" All at once, the cocky act slipped off him, like he was shedding a winter coat- reluctantly surrendering to the cold, hard truth.

"How do I feel?" Jace pondered the words, tasting them as though they were new to him. Maybe they were. Did anyone think Jace the super warrior could be hurt? H e certainly didn't want them to think that, keeping everyone from seeing his pain and worry with sharp barbs and tactical responses. A master of deception. Like Valentine. Suddenly, Clary could see what Jace was worried about. If he was raised by a monster, was he a monster by default? What would people think of him after they knew?

"I feel… confused. My father certainly wasn't who I thought he was. And the things he taught me- are they all wrong? We know what kind of person Valentine was. Despicable, and does that extend to everything surrounding him? I know his morals can't be correct, and I've followed them all my life. Clary," he whispered desperately, "everything I've ever known has been pulled away from me. Am I supposed to start again?"

Clary hesitated. How was she supposed to give the right answers? Those questions… they weren't asked lightly. She took a deep breath.

"Focus on what's constant in your life. After Valentine, you were sent to the Lightwoods. They're your family now, and I don't think they would ever reject you. And the morals, they're your own and theirs and Valentine's, all combined to suit you. Not anyone else. They've never been questioned before, so why bother now? They've always held up before, so why question them now? And another thing," she continued, cutting Jace off as he began to speak, "people will talk- about Valentine, about you. I know- I'm actually his daughter. Don't you think I've had these questions before? All this, it isn't new to me. The only thing that's new is All this, it isn't new to me. The only thing that's new is you. So I'm here, anytime you need me."

They sat in silence for a few moments. "Alright, I'm done. Go ahead, you can speak now." She smiled at him jokingly.

"I don't think I need to say anything," he whispered, "except thank you."

His gaze roamed around her face, settling on her mouth. She couldn't tear her eyes from his mouth, either. A happy, tingling feeling started in her stomach, and she was fairly sure that her cheeks were bright red, as though they had been sunburnt and matching her hair. As Jace lowered his mouth to hers- quite a long way- she gasped, not quite believing that this was real, and after all this he still wanted her. Plain old, Clary Fray. Or plain old Clarissa Fairchild, whichever you wanted. The kiss was pure energy. As their lips met, she wanted to melt into a puddle. But then she wouldn't get enough- although, Clary was quite certain that she would never get enough of Jace. Her arms reached up, almost of their own accord, to twine in his soft hair, bringing him even nearer to her. His arms were clasped around her back, keeping her in the secure cocoon of his embrace. She ran her tongue along his lips, and soon he was exploring her mouth almost tentatively. She giggled. Jace, tentative?

He drew back. "I did not mean for that to happen." He said breathlessly.

"I'm pretty sure you did." Clary laughed, equally as breathless.

"Okay, maybe I did. But who cares?" His voice dropped. "Nothing's going to keep us apart, no matter how cheesy that sounds."

"I know." She dropped him a wink, then turned around and took off, laughing. "Let's get back to the manor. I'm sure everyone's waiting for us."

"Screw them." A pair of arms snaked around her waist. "I'm think I have a better idea."

She spun around. "Rea—"

Jace kissed her softly. "Yeah." She shook her head and beckoned. He caught up to her and slipped his hand into hers, her pulse beating strongly into his wrist. Her father was dead, Jonathan in jail... no more trouble.

Clary sighed. No more trouble.