Chapter Six

Clary

"How well can you behave yourself, Clarissa?" asked Valentine, turning Clary's chin from side to side to get a better view of her face. Clary's eyes were dazed from dehydration and starvation, her skin was translucent, and she no longer had the strength to fight her father. "I'm pleased to say that I've brought Jace home, and your mother has taken to him swimmingly. He's the perfect distraction, the perfect child for her to love; you realize what this means for you?"

Don't listen…he's lying to you again, he's always lying to you…Clary opened her mouth to speak, to tell him she didn't give a damn what he said, but the only sound that came out of her mouth was a rasping breath. Valentine smiled piteously down on her, but it didn't reach his eyes. He was enjoying this.

"You're in a tight spot, so to speak," Valentine continued evenly. "Your mother is more than happy to go on loving Jace, doting on him, caring for him; she doesn't need you at all."

Clary felt small tears prick at her eyes, but she held them back. "…she loves me…" she managed to croak.

Valentine shook his head. "No, Clary, she barely even asks about you. Since I've given her Jace, she is more than content, and what do you expect? He is charming, talented, handsome; Jace is everything a mother wants in a child." Valentine ran his large hand down Clary's arm and grasped her hand in his. His grip was painful to Clary, and she tried to jerk away, but he squeezed tighter until Clary felt spasms of pain race up her arm. "Your life, Clarissa, is completely in my hands; no one but me cares for you anymore, and I hardly do at that. If you want to leave this place, you're going to have to play nice."

Clary narrowed her eyes at Valentine and tried to find her voice, but nothing could come out. She tried a bit of thrashing, but it was weak, and she barely had the strength to lift her torso. Valentine watched his daughter's display with a bit of amusement, and then, very suddenly, took the glass of water he was going to give her and poured it over her face. Clary gasped and sputtered, distantly aware that that was the only water she was going to get.

"Don't make a scene, Clarissa, it's embarrassing." Valentine reached down and wiped the water out of Clary's eyes because her hands were still painfully bound. "If you want to leave this place, you're going to have to convince me you're ready for it. Can you do that, Clarissa?"

Clary bared her teeth and spat a bit of the water out of her mouth. After a minute of silence where Clary breathed heavily and Valentine watched her dispassionately, she lifted her gaze to his and blinked-the only way she could show she was listening. Just give him what he wants, just play along. He's got your mom captive, and he's got Jace. The Angel only knows what he's done to them.

"So, you're willing to be a good girl, are you?" he asked, examining her. "You're not in very good shape are you, Clarissa? Look at this," he said, rolling her shirt up and getting a good view of her stomach. It was bloated from lack of food, and there were a number of vivid bruises that hadn't healed. "And you're legs and arms," Clary felt panic rise up in her chest as she saw his hand move from hers and up to her forearm. "They're frail enough to snap. You're certainly in no condition to start training, and I certainly have no desire to waste my time healing you."

Whatever happens next, don't scream, don't scream, don't scream! Clary could feel Valentine's fingers clamp down like a vice, and she knew pain would be coming swiftly. Jace wouldn't scream, he'd be brave and silent and strong.

"Perhaps your mother might…but she's so busy with Jace now, I don't know how she'll manage." Valentine almost sounded like he was sad about this. Almost. "And, by the look of it, I need to start training you immediately if we're to have hope. Do you have a solution?"

Clary watched his hand resting on her arm. She could feel energy coursing through his hands and onto her arm, and she knew that he was going to break it. Slowly, helplessly, Clary shook her head.

"No?" Valentine asked, and Clary looked down. "Ah, well, then…" And then Valentine tightened his grip painfully until her arm snapped. Even though she was almost completely immobile, even though she didn't have the strength to lift her head, she screamed.

Jace

Dinner had been an abysmal affair and Jace longed for the cold comfort of his room. Jonathan had watched him, his expression alternating between a self-satisfied smirk and a very hungry look. He seemed half ready to lunge across the table and throttle the life of Jace, but then, thinking Jace was more miserable being alive, settling for watching him squirm. Valentine had carried on a lively conversation, primarily with Jocelyn and Jonathan, about the state of the Clave and the shadowhunters. From what Jace had heard, most of the Clave had drunk from the Cup and been marked with loyalty and obedience runes; there was still confusion while people fell into their roles, but it seemed to be working itself out. Jace guessed the obedience runes were making the transition smooth. Dinner ended with pound cake and chocolate ice cream, and Jace stared down at it as if it were the strangest thing he had ever seen.

"Is something wrong, Jace?" Jocelyn asked politely from one head of the table.

Jace almost jumped at the sound of her voice. "What?"

"Is there something wrong with the cake, Jace?" Valentine clarified, smiling just a little at Jocelyn. He seemed very pleased that Jocelyn had taken to Jace so quickly.

"No, I just…I haven't eaten ice cream from Idris is a while," he said quickly, and he saw Valentine's eyebrows rise at the lie. Jocelyn, however, didn't seem to notice-or pretended not to-and so Valentine forgave him the lie.

As Jace ate, Jonathan cleared his throat and fixed Jace with his dark, glowing eyes. "So, how do you like your room, little brother?"

Little brother? "It's bigger than my room at the Institute, but a little bare, especially where clothing is concerned." Perfectly bland and empty, Valentine can't complain about that.

Jonathan pounced. "Well, you can barrow some of my old things, can't you? After all, you're wearing my old shirts and pants."

The food in Jace's mouth turned to ash, and he almost turned an accusatory look on Valentine, but an order shook through his body. DON'T PROTEST. Jace finished the mouthful and swallowed loudly. "I didn't know you were so fond of color."

Jonathan shrugged carelessly. "Whatever suits me-well…whatever suits you. I'll let you look through my closet. I take it you need something to sleep in?"

You smug bastard, Jace thought. "Please."

Jonathan had victory in his grip. "You can just stop by my room; I'm across the hall from you."

"Whose room is next to mine, then?" Jace asked, and seeing Valentine's eyes dart to Jocelyn, he knew he's landed a blow.

"It belongs to my daughter," Valentine said stiffly, watching Jocelyn's eyes drop. Jace knew he was going to live to regret that, since it had caused Jocelyn discomfort and his main purpose in life now was to make her happy, but he couldn't bear Jonathan being pleased.

"It's empty," Jace pressed, and would have said more had a command not ended it with a resounding SILENCE.

"Not for long," Valentine said with relish, and then pushed his plate away. "I'm afraid that I'm going to have to step out for just a bit-some quick work on the Clave. Jonathan, take Jace upstairs and get him settled and ready for bed. Jocelyn," he crossed the room and kissed her cheek before brushing another kiss on her lips, "I'll see you soon."

"I'll wait up," she said, and caught Jace's eye from across the table. "I'll even check in on little Jace before I retire."

"Totally unnecessary, Mother," Jonathan said smoothly, rising and waving Jace over. "I'll see that my little brother is well cared for and comfortable. Come, Jace, let's GET you settled."

Jace didn't really want to leave with Jonathan; even though he wasn't quite sure how he felt about Jocelyn, her company was much preferred to Jonathan's. It didn't matter, though, as Valentine was giving him the very strict order GO. Jace rose slowly, pushed his chair in, and said goodnight to both Jocelyn and Valentine. Anything to buy time. However, there was no way to escape Jonathan's waiting hand, and when Jace went to join him, Jonathan draped his arm over Jace's shoulder in a brotherly way. A surge of hate overcame Jace; Alec was his only brother.

"What are you playing at?" Jonathan asked as he and Jace went back up the stairs to the bedrooms. "A bit afraid, are we?"

"I'm not afraid of you," Jace snapped back, and then paused, thinking. "I'm your parabatai whether you like it or not. That means you can't kill me."

Jonathan's face was ugly. "Maybe I don't want to kill you, maybe I think you're suffering more because you're alive. Now, please, come inside and find something to wear. I'm sure we can find you something." Jonathan was taking too much pleasure in Jace's dependence on him. Jace wanted desperately to cross the hall to his room and slam the door in Jonathan's face, but Jonathan tossed open his door and gave Jace a shove inside. "So, tell me, do you like your new home? I trust it's better than that hole you lived in with the Lightwoods."

"Don't talk to me about them," Jace hissed, watching Jonathan throw open a set a drawers and pull out a set of sweat pants. Jace caught them deftly when Jonathan tossed them at him. "You're sick, you and Valentine."

"Careful, little brother," Jonathan said softly. "Your life in this household can become very ugly very quickly. Just because you're Jocelyn's pet doesn't mean you actually have any standing. My father let you live only because he wanted to make his wife happy. You're just a stand in for me, and a poor one, at that."

Jace ground his teeth. "He knows Jocelyn hates you. He's just trying to hide you from her so she doesn't think less of him."

Jonathan's smile slipped and he crossed the room in a moment, throwing Jace against the wall. "I'm his son, I'm the one who will follow in his footsteps when he's gone, and then you'll see, won't you?" Jace squirmed a bit in Jonathan's grip, and Jonathan gave him a shake. "You'll see."

Jace met his eyes, wondering if Jonathan was going to strike him, but as he waited and Jonathan just frowned at him, he realized Jonathan wasn't going to hurt him. "Must feel so strange for you, having a parabatai?"

"I was going to ask you the same thing, Jace, seeing as you're bound to an actual shadowhunter. I hardly think that Lightwood brat counts, given what he is." Jonathan offered up an angelic smile.

"Don't talk about him," Jace said dangerously; he didn't think he could bear the raw pain of Alec's loss. "Now let me go before mommy come calling. What would she say if she saw you hurting her dear, little angel boy?"

Jonathan tossed Jace with unnecessary force toward the door and he stumbled through it. "I'll see you soon, Jace," Jonathan called after him as he crossed the hall and flung himself into his new room.

Jace took a long moment to gather himself, and sat down on the bed, taking deep breaths. The loss of Alec was still a physical pain, still an aching in his chest he couldn't make go away. Even though Jonathan had taken Alec's place, it didn't offer Jace the same kind of fulfillment it had before. His connection, when he tested it, was like a throbbing, burning sensation, and it turned his stomach. He missed Alec, it was that simple.

Pull yourself together. You know Valentine is not through with you, you know he has more orders for you, more rules. Jace sighed and stripped off his shirt and pants-Jonathan's shirts and pants-and flung them carelessly aside before wriggling into the pajamas.

For a little while, Jace sat on his bed, staring up at the ceiling, thinking over his current situation. It wasn't good. Valentine had a strong hold on him, and not just because of the runes. He had convinced Jocelyn that she had to love him if she wanted Clary back, so he had to deal with Jocelyn's almost manic ministrations-something Jace was loathe to do. It wasn't that he didn't like Jocelyn, she seemed nice enough; no, it was that he simply wasn't accustomed to having a mother fawn over him. He felt awkward and uncomfortable having Jocelyn constantly around him, touching his hair and shoulders, smiling constantly, speaking in her soft, protective voice. Jocelyn made him feel like child.

Well, as far as Valentine is concerned, you are. He just wants you to be an object she can care for, something she can love in place of her son. Jace flushed and leaned back. Jocelyn did mention Clary to you, what did she say…? You'll take good care of her. She meant in the future. It was the only small consolation Jace got from that entire evening: he was going to see Clary and Jocelyn wanted him to. As long as Jocelyn wants it, I'm sure Valentine will allow it.

Jace's thoughts now turned to Clary and where she might be. Jocelyn hadn't seen her, so wherever Valentine had locked her up, she'd been there for a little over a week. Fear clamped down on Jace's throat like a vice and he longed for the feeling of Clary in his arms, if only to know she was safe. Now that he and Clary weren't siblings, it was okay for him to…to love her. Jace was shocked with his admission. Yes, he loved Clary, and it was okay. It was okay to love Clary.

"You look quite comfortable," said Valentine from the door, studying Jace lying on the bed. "Have you discovered you enjoy yourself here?"

Jace's eyes turned on Valentine. "Where's Clary?"

Valentine raised an eyebrow. "She's being dealt with, but I'm pleased to say I just had a nice chat with her. She has submitted to my will. She knows now how hopeless her situation is, and how dependent upon me she is."

Submitted to my will? Jace shuddered. He had submitted to Valentine will only under sheer force or pain. "What have you done to her?"

"Nothing she won't recover from," he shrugged, and then entered the room. "Much like yourself. There are some things, Jace, that you and I need to discuss this evening; some arrangements I'd like to make with you."

Jace didn't like the look in his eyes; it wasn't hungry, it was just contemplative, assessing. He had designs for Jace. "Make arrangements with your slave?" he laughed. "That's sounds a bit odd, don't you think?"

"Jocelyn is very happy with you," Valentine said as if Jace hadn't spoken. "She likes having you around, she thinks you're sweet and entertaining."

"Well, you know me. Always entertaining for the ladies."

Valentine stood before Jace now, looking down on him. "I would like for you to continue entertaining her, giving her something to do, someone to care for while Jonathan and I are called away on other business. It won't be too difficult, I think, since you'll just need to stay with her, indulge her, keep her busy."

Jace frowned; there had been something disconcerting about Valentine's words. "I hope you have a bunch of board games ready."

"Well," said Valentine, smiling slightly, "I had other plans for you. While I don't deny you would certainly be pleasurable company on your own, I think there is something more…more serious. Something that might distract her from my absence." Jace watched him closely, waiting for him to strike; Valentine turned to the doorway and called out, "Jonathan!"

This isn't going to go well, Jace thought fleetingly before Jonathan came in, and he felt Valentine's command LIE DOWN. Jace leaned back, his head resting uncomfortably on his pillow, and his body stiff. Jonathan approached from the other side of the room, closing the door with a snap; when he stood over Jace, his eyes gleamed, but in their depths, Jace saw mild confusion.

"Jocelyn really does need something to keep her occupied, so I thought we might start with something every mother encounters in her life." Valentine drew the blankets up over Jace, tucking him in to his chin. "Let me state this simply: Jonathan is going to beat you, hard enough to leave prominent bruises, and then tomorrow morning, when Jocelyn comes to wake you, you will tell her how you hurt yourself. You will tell her how much pain you're in, how humiliated you are, how ashamed, and then ask her to take care of you."

Something of Jace's shock must have shone on his face because Jonathan laughed. "That's all you're good for, Jace, being a living, breathing, toy doll."

"You can't torture me just to make Jocelyn happy," Jace breathed, and he began straining against Valentine's command. If he was going to be attacked, he wasn't going to take it lying on his back.

"It's not torture," Valentine sniffed, "because you're not really a person, are you? You're nothing but an animal I took in to keep myself and those around me occupied. You helped me complete my disguise as Michael Wayland in your youth, you're giving Jocelyn something to love when she can't have her children, and you will be Clary's reward when she finally rejoins this family. Over all, Jace, your entire life is simply that of a stand-in, a distraction, nothing real."

Jace bared his teeth in a snarl. "If I'm so useless, why not just kill me?"

"Jace," Valentine cooed, and he caressed Jace's cheeks, "you're not useless, just unimportant. Now, I think you will find that in these cases, it's best to focus on breathing. I'm asking you not to scream; I don't want Jocelyn hearing you. Jonathan, would you like to begin?"

Jace saw Jonathan move into his line of sight, and he tensed, preparing for the blow he knew was about to come. He met Jonathan's eyes, wondering if his parabatai would even balk at the order to beat him. There was no mercy in Jonathan's eyes. "Should I break any of his ribs, father?"

"I think that's appropriate," Valentine agreed, and then gestured to Jace.

DON'T SCREAM. Jace heard the order like a drum beat in his head, and he ground his teeth together just in time to feel the back on Jonathan's hand connect with his cheek. Spots shone behind Jace's eyes and he feat tears forming that he forced back. He shook his head to clear himself, but it only proved painful because Jonathan brought his fist and forearm down on Jace's stomach once, twice, three times, and on the third time, he heard a rib crack under the force. A gasp slipped through his lips and his eyes darted to Valentine, who bowed his head; he hadn't cared that much. Jonathan landed a few more painful blows, this time on his legs; for a fleeting moment, Jace was worried Jonathan was trying to break his femur, but he moved on to his foot, where he smiled ruefully. Jace knew what he had in mind, and his toes curled.

"A broken ankle or a broken knee?" he asked Valentine, and Valentine pointed to Jace's foot. Jonathan grinned and, without even looking at what he was doing, applied ample pressure to Jace's ankle until he heard the snapping sound. "You really should be more careful, little brother; you hurt yourself so easy."

Jace's body was shaking against his will, the broken rib and broken ankle stinging unpleasantly. He shot a dark look at Valentine from under his eyelashes. "So, what exactly has this accomplished?"

"I didn't accomplish anything," Valentine said, feigning surprise. "You did this to yourself. You're a very sentimental boy, Jace, and you missed your parents-the Lightwoods-so much, that last night, you tried to sneak out of the house to see them. You climbed out the window and onto the tree, but, unfortunately, you're not so nimble or graceful as you'd like, and the branch below you snapped. You fell two stories, breaking two bones and bruising yourself horribly. Ashamed, you spent the entire night crawling back through the house and up the stairs to your room."

Jace's mouth hung open and Jonathan snorted. "Funny, I must have hit my head and suffered a bout of amnesia too."

"You will tell Jocelyn this story, and then ask her to take care of you," said Valentine smugly. "I think she will be most sympathetic to your situation."

"If I don't slip and mention the part where Jonathan broke my rib!" Jace spat back, his shaking now due to rage. "I'm not going to moan and whine to her about how much pain I'm in. I'm not gonna cry-"

"Yes, you will," said Valentine firmly. "You'll cry and groan and wince and cringe and anything else Jocelyn wants you to do. Be aware, Jace, that if you play your part sufficiently and put on a good show for Jocelyn, I'll reunite you with Clarissa."

Jace, who had been on the verge of another crude comment, felt the sarcasm dry up in his throat. "What have you done with Clary? Jocelyn wants her back, she told me so herself!"

"She needs to know her place," Valentine shrugged, "and though she has given in, I need her to understand just how much she is in my power-and that is absolutely."

"If you let me talk to her-"

"I'm afraid that can't happen until I'm satisfied with your own temperament," Valentine said swiftly. "I only have time to deal with one renegade child."

"Please, I can help you with her!" Jace said desperately. "You won't need to hurt her if you just let me have a few minutes, I swear, I can help you-"

"I'm not interested," said Valentine. "No, I'm only interested in you spinning this story for Jocelyn tomorrow morning. So, practice your tears and helpless faces."

"And perhaps the word mommy," Jonathan sneered. "I think she'd like to hear that, don't you think, father? Mom is too modern, too derisive, and mother is too formal. But mommy, yes I think she might like it."

Jace flushed furiously. "She's not my mother!"

"She is now," Valentine warned, "and you'll treat her like one if you ever want to see Clarissa again. Now, I think Jonathan is quite right, Jace, so make sure to embellish your tale with a few endearments of the sort."

Oh, I can think of a few endearments, Jace thought furiously, but he knew it didn't matter how many names he called Valentine and Jonathan. They still had Clary and he still had to play along. Jace moved uncomfortably, trying to find a place that didn't ignite pain in his ribs. "Okay, fine, whatever; I'll tell her what you want."

Valentine smiled, pleased with himself. "Just make sure it sounds real; I'm sure the pain is real enough. Come, Jonathan, we've a few arrangements to make concerning young Clarissa."

Jace wanted to ask what plans they had for Clary, but they moved swiftly to the door where Jonathan flicked the light off and closed the door with a snap. Jace was left to lie in the dark, brewing in his fear for Clary, his humiliation at the coming morning, and the faintly throbbing pain in his side and ankle. It was hard to move, as Valentine hadn't released Jace from his command, and he struggled with it for almost an hour. After that, he settled for lying on his back, staring up at the ceiling or out the window at the stars and dreading the morning and Jocelyn's arrival.

Admittedly, he did get a few hours of sleep, but not enough to ignore the knocking on his door the following morning. Jace groaned, rolled over very carefully, and then peeked out from under the blankets. Jocelyn knocked again, Jace groaned louder, and this time the door creaked open and Jocelyn's pretty green eyes peered in. When she saw Jace staring at her, she opened wide the door and came in cautiously.

"Jace," she said softly, "I'm making breakfast, do you like eggs and pancakes?"

Jace, for his part, loved eggs and pancakes, but his stomach had dissolved into painful fits over the night due to his broken rib. He didn't quite have the nerve-or lack thereof-to begin spinning his tale, so instead he nodded faintly and sank a bit into the blankets like he were ill. Jocelyn drew closer to Jace's bed, her eyes raking his prostrate form.

"Is something wrong, you don't look well," she said, and placed the back of her hand on Jace's cheek. "You don't have a fever, but you're pale as a ghost. Jace, what happened?"

Jace shook his head. Just swallow your pride, Jace, and tell her what he said. Jace drew a deep breath. "You can't tell Valentine," he began, thinking that might raise her concern and interest. "He'll be furious if he knew."

Jocelyn's face fell. "If he asks, Jace, I can't lie; he'll know and then he'll punish Clary. But, I'll do my best to protect you from him. He loves me, he wants me to be happy."

Just what I need, Jace thought, grinding his teeth, to have Jocelyn think I need her protection. "I miss my family, you know, the Lightwoods."

"Well, Jace, I'm sure once everything settles down I can convince Valentine to let you see-"

"Not now," Jace said quickly. "I tried to go see them last night, I tried to sneak out of the house to visit them. I was going to use the tree outside my window to climb down but the branch I was on broke and I…fell." That's a bit lame, don't you think?

Jocelyn, however, didn't think it was lame at all. "Jace, are you okay? Are you hurt? Do you need something?" Before Jace could say much more, Jocelyn grabbed the blankets and dragged them off his body. She saw the awkward way he held himself, and how he curled up in on himself, his hands wrapped about his ribs. "Look at the bruises on you!"

"Don't touch them!" he said sharply, clutching at his ribs.

"Jace," she said gently, sitting on the bed and placing her warm, flat palm on his ribs. "Let me help you; I won't tell Valentine-"

"Tell me what?" said Valentine from the door, his eyes alighting on Jace's face. "Jocelyn, what's going on?"

Jocelyn was momentarily lost for words. She had to tell Valentine, unless she wanted Clary to suffer, but she couldn't just leave Jace to face his wrath. "It's not Jace's fault," she said simply.

Valentine drew into the room, smiling pleasantly. "Clearly."

Jocelyn positioned herself carefully before Jace, making it very clear that she didn't want Jace hurt. Jace had to hand it to her, she was a lot braver than most of the shadowhunters he'd met. "He misses his family, Valentine, and he wanted to see them."

Valentine's eyes spotted the ugly bruises and swollen ankle. "And he hurt himself how?"

Jocelyn looked down and caught Jace's hand. "He just missed his family," she said softly. "Jace tried to leave the house last night-climbing out the tree-and fell. He's hurt, and I don't think hurting him more will help," she added swiftly.

Valentine was pleased with the urgency in Jocelyn's voice. He held up his hands. "Have no fear, Jocelyn, I'm not going to hurt him-he's certainly learned his lesson. Besides, the boy is used to pain, he was a very accident prone child."

Accident prone? Jace thought viciously. The only accident I ever made was trusting you.

"I wouldn't be too surprised if he fell down a few stairs, or off his horse, or even slipped in the tub." Valentine's eyes met Jace's and they were sparkling maliciously. "We'll just have to keep an eye on him, won't we?"

Falling down the stairs? I guess that'll be the next accident I have to explain the bruises. "Babysitting me today?" Jace asked.

"No, I'm afraid I can't," Valentine said curtly, flicking his gaze over him. "I've a bit of business to attend to, but this evening, I'd like to speak with you. We have a certain issue I think it's time we dealt with."

Jace knew he meant Clary, and his heart skipped a beat in his chest. At his side, Jocelyn relaxed ever so slightly. "I'll stay with him, Valentine," Jocelyn offered. "I don't mind spending the day taking care of Jace. It'll be perfect time for us to talk and get to know each other."

"Indeed," Valentine smirked, and then bowed his head to Jace. "Until this evening, Jace."

So, I thought I would just let everyone know that I'm back at my university and my classes have started up. This shouldn't effect my writing schedule, but, if the next chapter comes up a little late, it's just me getting back into the swing of things. Thanks for reading!