Chapter Twelve

Simon

Five days, it's been five days since I've had even a drop of blood…how long can a vampire go without blood?

…five days.

"Stop looking at me like that," Magnus leaned his cheek against the cold wall.

"Like what?"

The warlock's eyes opened slowly, staring long and hard at Simon. "Like you're going to attack me; how long has it been since you had any blood?"

"Five days," Simon said at once, wondering if Magnus was going to offer him some sort of alternative. A spell that might dissuade hunger, or put him to sleep, or even turn water into the life saving liquid.

His hopes were met with a smirk. "That blows."

"I'm aware it blows," Simon growled, "but it doesn't make it any easier to deal with it. How long can a vampire go before they need blood?"

Magnus shrugged lazily. "I don't know, indefinitely, I suppose, but you'll become incredibly weak. You won't be able to walk, or talk, or move at all really-which, might be an improvement for me come to think of it."

"Thanks, Magnus," Simon grunted, and stared down at his hands, studying the pale veins in his wrists. "Isn't there anything you can do?"

Magnus's eyes popped open. "Don't you think you've experimented with exotic types of blood enough after Jace?" he asked sarcastically. "Not that it matters, but my blood is almost a thousand years old and full to the bursting with magic."

"Would it matter?" Simon wondered. "Is it like wine? I'll take a glass of your finest Bane Merlot, hold the lemon."

Magnus shot him an ugly glower. "You don't put lemon twists in wine, you moron."

"It was a joke," Simon muttered and returned to tracing his veins. "Can I drink my own blood?"

"No, you've already taken the nutrients out of it," Magnus said, and his eyes closed again. "You need fresh blood or you'll start to deteriorate."

Simon shuddered at the mention of the word deteriorate, images from chemistry labs when hydrochloric acid would eat up white crystals. It had been fun then. "But I won't die?"

"You'll wish you had," Magnus sighed.

Simon turned to say something nasty back to Magnus, but saw with a start that the warlock looked sickly. His skin was a sallow with purple bruises under his eyes, and his hair was lank and dirty. Simon's eyes wandered down Magnus's body and he saw that beneath the tattered shirt and pants, he had a number of ugly bruises and scrapes, some bleeding, some bright red. Under closer inspection, he saw the man's chest was rising and falling irregularly.

"Are you alright, Magnus?"

"Do I look alright, Simon?" Magnus snapped, but he sighed when Simon's eyes flashed defensively. "I am well enough, but, if you must know, I could do with a long sleep in an actual bed and some access to some herbs."

Simon nodded his head. "I'm sure someone will come for us soon."

"You really think that?" Magnus asked curiously. "Do you really think Valentine is going to show us any mercy? I'm a bisexual high warlock, and you're a daylighter vampire who used to date his daughter. He's not going to be taking us out of here anytime soon."

"But he can't leave us here?" Simon looked shocked. "It'll kill us."

"I don't think he cares either way," Magnus said thoughtfully. "In the grand scheme of things, we're not that important to Valentine. Just things he can use."

Simon's mind raced to Clary. "You don't actually think he's keeping me alive just so he can punish Clary?" The idea that he was so pivotal to someone so clearly important left a strange tingling in his stomach, and he thought of his best friend. "Is he going to hurt her?"

Magnus eyed him closely. "Do you really think after all the trouble she's given him, he won't? Valentine doesn't seem like the sort of man who is just going to brush that all off. But, Jocelyn is with her, so at least her mother can protect her."

"Jace will be with her," Simon said at once.

"You think so?"

Simon laughed hollowly. "She drove him half mad when he loved her and they thought they were brother and sister; now he knows he can have her. He's not going to let her go."

"Then even worse for him, I suppose," Magnus said. "Valentine already had a keen interest him, tack onto that he was living with the Lightwoods, helping fight Valentine, and working with Lucian, and he's got himself into quite a mess, don't you think?"

Simon considered the young man he had grown, oddly enough, to like. Jace had always been so stubborn, so cruel, so sneering, but it had all been born out of a broken childhood. And, what was more important, he really could help Clary. Simon had hoped for so long that he could be the person who would be there for Clary, that he could be the one she turned to when she needed help, but he knew better now. She was meant to be with Jace, no matter how much it pained him.

"Valentine won't kill him, will he?"

"I haven't the slightest notion about what goes through the man's head, but, I think it's safe to assume he's going to keep him alive as long as he can. He seemed fond of the boy."

Simon shuddered. "I wonder what that's like."

"Curious to find out?"

Simon jerked and Magnus started. The bars across from them in their cell, that had one moment been empty, where now filled in by the form of a tall, blond, handsome young man. Simon's fangs descended and Magnus's fingers twitched when they recognized the other person smirking back at them.

"Sebastian," Simon hissed.

"Jonathan," Magnus corrected.

"I'd say it's nice seeing you again, but, frankly, it's not." Jonathan moved into the light of their torch and inclined his head to both of them. "I couldn't help but hear you discussing my dear little sister, and I stopped to listen."

"Not polite to eavesdrop," Simon muttered.

"It's not polite to talk about people's families," Jonathan returned sharply. "So, I trust you like your new accommodations?"

"Could do with a window," Magnus said conversationally. "Maybe a bed or two. Why?"

Jonathan strolled along the length of their cell. "I can't do much for a décor, but perhaps for the company." He smiled like a razor.

Simon's eyes narrowed. "What are you talking about?"

"While I'm not sure I can bring you precious, little Clary, maybe you'd like a visit from Ms. Lightwood?"

Simon felt himself lurch forward. "What have you done with the Lightwoods?"

Jonathan laughed. "The Lightwoods are gone, my father and I dismantled the family and placed Isabelle and Alec in an adoptive family."

"Dismantled?" Magnus asked, narrowing his eyes. "What have you done to them?"

"Why are you worried?" Jonathan sneered, curling his lip at the sight of Magnus. "You're a warlock, and hardly interested in shadowhunters…or are you? Are you and that Lightwood boy still…infatuated?"

Magnus flushed through his pallor. "They were my friends," he said evenly.

"Of course they were," Jonathan said. "It might interest you to know, warlock, that we severed the bond between Jace and Alec. I don't suppose you know anything about that?"

Simon frowned in confusion. "What do you mean-"

"You did what?" Magnus was on his feet, his eyes wide. "Do you know what that does to shadowhunters? I know you don't give a damn about Alec, but I thought Valentine would at least balk at hurting Jace."

"Jace is fine," Jonathan said, and there was a sour note to it, but he lifted his arm and revealed the mark, glowing on his skin. "He's my parabatai now."

Simon didn't know much about shadowhunters, but he could still remember the importance Jace had always placed on being parabatai, the reverence in his voice whenever he spoke of his and Alec's bond. "But, I thought those bonds were supposed to be forever?"

"Times are changing," Jonathan shrugged. "Jace is better off with me, anyway. Let's face it, he was bonded to a disgrace of a shadowhunter, a coward in love with another man. Jace needs a better older brother."

"Alec has been his parabatai since they were children," Simon said loudly. "You can't just break that up."

"Well, we did, and it's been working find so far, mind you, I haven't actually seen Alec, and I can't attest to his current state." Jonathan's expression of concern didn't really reach his eyes.

Simon's anger, which had been deep-seated already, sprung forward. "How do you people live with yourselves? You've ruined a person's life, completely, utterly, ruined it, and you think it's all a joke? Alec is a person! Who cares if he's gay or in love with a warlock? It doesn't make him any less deserving of life."

"I could disagree," Jonathan pointed out politely.

"Yes, well, what about you?" Simon snapped back, and he didn't know where he had found the courage for it. "You're part demon! You think it's wrong for Alec to love another man, well, what about you? You don't love anyone!"

Magnus was staring at Simon, shocked by his outburst. Jonathan's eyes narrowed dangerously. "You think you're so brave, vampire?"

No, not even a bit, but I've got the Mark Clary gave me, so what are you going to do about it? "No, but I think I'm right."

Jonathan drew up against the bars, his eyes glittering. Softly, he said, "But you are so wrong, vampire." His hungry eyes bore into Simon, searching for something, anything, he might use to scare the other boy. However, Simon gave nothing. "You will find that I am full of surprises."

"I'll find you're full of shi"-

"Simon!" Magnus snapped, making a shooing gesture at him. "Why have you come, Jonathan?"

"Only to see how our favorite Downworlders are doing," Jonathan laughed. "And a few other things besides. My father and I have a few things planned, and it's important that you two be, well…alive, when we begin them."

"Is this how you and Valentine plan to keep things calm? Threaten everyone who dares to challenge you with people they love?" Magnus asked, standing up. His fingers were, surprisingly, sparking on the ends.

"Just Clary and Isabelle," Jonathan shrugged. "You, vampire, are going to make your debut very soon. We have plans for my dear little sister, and we don't want Clary digging her heels in as we do it."

Simon snarled. "I'm not going to let you hurt Clary."

"If you refuse, we'll hurt her," Jonathan returned. "Either way, Clary loses in this game, but if you go along with it, vampire, she won't have to be hurt."

Aline

The carriage jostled as Aline watched Alicante pass by, and she entered into the center circle, where the most prominent members of the Clave lived. They towered over her home, stories and stories, with sloping front drives and beautiful gardens and lawns. She felt a pang for her home, for her elegant sitting room and warm, crackling fire. This place was too lavish, too extravagant.

Just remember why you're here, she said to herself, breathing a little unevenly. You're going to be friends with Valentine's daughter and be a good influence on her. You're going to do it because your parents will be punished if you don't.

The carriage drew up to a large, sloping lawn with a paved drive before it. As they trundled up it, Aline caught a glimpse of the finely manicured lawn with trim hedges and blooming flower beds. The house, when they drew level with it, was pale yellow with white accents and large bay windows. It was quite picturesque.

When the horses drew to a stop, Aline's heart sputtered. I can't do this, I can't do this, I can't-

"Jace?" she gasped as the front door opened and out came a familiar handsome face capped with golden hair.

He smirked and opened the door for her. "Aline, it's pleasant seeing you up here."

"Is it?" she asked, and eyed him curiously.

Jace didn't exactly look tortured, but there was a certain slump to his shoulder and purple shadows under his eyes that suggested he was more than a little distressed. He caught the underlying question and dropped his eyes. "Well, we don't have a lot of company, at least none I'm allowed to speak with. Here, I'll show you where you'll be taking class."

Aline swallowed. "Who teaches?"

"Jocelyn," Jace said casually. "She enjoys spending time with Clary, and is rather…lenient, in most aspects." There was another meaning to those words, and Aline knew at once what it was.

"Do you take the class as well?"

Jace looked away. "No, I'm not a student anymore; Valentine believes I am more than qualified to take up a place in the Clave. I'm just waiting till I turn twenty-one."

"What do you do then?" Aline wondered as Jace opened the door for her. "How do you spend your time?"

"You're about to find out," he said darkly, and ushered her in.

Aline was stunned by what she saw. The house was enormous, with tall ceilings and lots of natural light pouring in through windows. Opposite the doors was a wide stairwell that led to a second floor that looked down upon the first. She saw many paintings of shadowhunters and a few of the Angel. There were plush rugs on a floor that had been waxed to a shimmer. She heard soft voices coming from the room next door.

One of the doors was open slightly, and upon Jace closing the front ones, it opened wider by a beautiful, red haired woman. "Jace, is that you with Aline?"

"Yes, Jocelyn," Jace answered politely. Aline shot him a look to see how he felt about the woman. She saw that his face was almost blank, but for the warm glow in his eyes. When the woman smiled at him, he straightened up a little and his frown softened.

"Well, wonderful," said Jocelyn, and then came out with a very welcoming look. "Hello, Aline, I'm Jocelyn, Valentine's wife and Clary's mother. I'm so happy your parents let you come."

Aline took the hand Jocelyn offered and shook it. "Well, Clary and I got on well, and I've been cooped up in that house for so long…I thought it would be nice."

"And do you draw much?" she asked, herding Aline and Jace into the room.

"No…not really. My parents didn't see the need." Aline shot her a look, but Jocelyn seemed unconcerned.

"Well, lessons are lessons, they're there to help you improve," Jocelyn shrugged. "Jace, would you like to play for us a bit?"

"Of course, what do you want?"he asked, looking at the piano.

"Fur Elise," Clary called from her place by the window.

Aline checked on the spot of the sitting room, impressed by the beautiful proportions and pallet. The book shelves were covered in more than just books, and there was a grand piano Jace was warming up. Clary, who was waiting by the window with two art easels, looked as surprised to see Aline there as Aline was with the room.

"Hello, Aline," Clary said after a beat. "You're painting with me?"

"Yes," she said, trying to express in her eyes all she wanted to say. "Yes, your father invited me."

"Yes, of course," said Clary, and looked away out the window.

Aline drew level with Clary and was shocked by how thin she was. Clary had always been small, but now she looked positively emaciated, and there was a nervous twitch in the way she rubbed her finger tips together. Her eyes were small and sunken, and her skin was pale as snow. Even her clothing was worn and dirty, torn in some places, patched in others.

"So, you two, I thought perhaps we could paint a nice scene today…the city circle?" Jocelyn drew up to them and smiled at Clary with plaintive eyes. "The trees have finally begun to turn in the forest, and I know you love painting fall landscapes."

"Yes, mother," Clary said in her dull voice. Aline glanced at her, confused by her blankness; when she had seen Clary and Jocelyn's reunion, it had been a tearful, loving affair. This distance was odd.

"Right, well, it's always best to start with the foreground in these cases," Jocelyn continued, now for Aline's benefit. "I'll get the paints and you two can start; I'll be in the next room, doing some reading for the Clave if you need me."

Aline watched Clary carefully as they began, following her brush strokes and hand movements so as not to ruin the canvas. As she went, Jace played one song, then another, and she wondered if that really was what Jace did, just sit and entertain while the world moved on. Some way through, Clary spoke to Aline.

"How has your family been holding up, Aline?" It was polite, empty, and careful.

"Oh, very well," Aline said, a little more loudly than she intended. "I've been attending the school recently while my parents return to work with the Clave."

"And how do you like school?" Clary asked next, and Aline wasn't sure, but she thought Jace's music softened.

"It's very strict," Aline said in a measured voice. "I-I enjoy it very much, though," she added quickly.

"Are your friends there?" Clary pressed.

"Some of them…" Aline glanced at Jace and then stared at her painting. "I haven't seen the Lightwoods, though, but I don't think all the families have sent their children to school yet. I'm sure they'll be there next week." The music returned and what keen light in Clary's eyes left. "I heard there was going to be a ball next month for all the shadowhunters to celebrate the new Clave. Are you going?"

Clary's eyes darted to Jace, who looked surprised by the news but very bland. "I-I don't know. My father is very concerned with the state of my education, and I'm not sure I can waste an entire day getting ready for a dance."

"I'm sure we would all want to see you," Aline pushed. "People wonder what happened to Valentine's daughter."

Aline was shocked to see that Clary looked panicked. "Wh-why would they say that?" she stuttered. "People don't think my father did anything to me, do they? He didn't, you know, he was just worried that someone might try to hurt me if I was in the public eye."

"People don't think-"

"And the reason I don't go to school is because I'm far too much behind the rest of you. My father is training me." Clary's eyes darted to Jace and his face was carefully looking away. "People don't think I'm in trouble, do they?"

"No!" Aline said quickly. "No, it's just that everyone wonders where you went. Of course, my parents weren't really surprised. They were just pleased you wanted to see me. They'd love for you to come over."

"That's a very generous offer."

Aline felt the air rush out of her and she saw that Clary's hand jerked oddly to the side, streaking red across her carefully painted trees. Jace stopped playing the piano. It's Valentine, she thought, quaking. Valentine Morgenstern is right behind me. Don't say the wrong thing, don't say the wrong thing, don't get your parents in trouble.

"Father," said Clary formally, turning about to face him. "I thought you were meeting with the Clave."

"I was," he said, eyebrow raised. "However, I asked your mother to do a little work on the side for the Clave, and I thought I would come and see how that was going."

"Oh," said Clary. "She's in the next room over."

"I know that." Valentine's eyes flicked over her and there was a slight annoyance. "Clarissa, we have company over, I would have thought you might want to make a better impression."

Clary's eyes got a little wider. "Well, I was painting and I thought-"

"My apologies, Ms. Penhollow," said Valentine over her. "Usually, Clarissa isn't in such a temperament."

Aline's mouth was dry and she had to swallow twice before she found her voice. "Well, she probably didn't want to ruin any of her clothing."

"A gracious excuse," Valentine said, offering her an empty, polite smile. "Clarissa, go and change at once."

"But, if I get paint on it-"

"Clarissa." Valentine's grey eyes fixed on her. "If you are so concerned about getting paint on your blouse, you will not paint for the rest of the day. Go and change and then begin your rune study."

Aline waited for her to say something back, to tell Valentine to go to hell, to say something like the old Clary would have, but, instead, her eyes dropped. "Yes, Father."

Valentine shook his head and then looked to Aline. "My apologies for this, Ms. Penhollow. Since your parents aren't expecting you home for another thirty minutes, Jace can take you around the grounds."

Aline glanced up and then over to Jace, but she was surprised to see his face was set in a suspicious frown. He was staring at Valentine darkly. "Are you sure I shouldn't go help Jocelyn?"

"I am quite sure," Valentine said in clipped tones, and Aline wondered what secret battle was being fought between them. "I'm sure Ms. Penhollow would love to see the back garden or the stables, so don't be rude."

Jace grit his teeth and rose to join them. "Aline," he said with a thin smile.

Aline drew as close to Jace as she thought appropriate. She knew the story of Jace and Clary, of their love, and of their struggle. She didn't know if Valentine knew, and if he did, she didn't want him thinking she was trying to seduce his daughter's lover. His grey eyes, though, didn't seem to care and he turned on his heels, heading not toward the room where Jocelyn was, but into the hall and up the stairs to where Clary had gone.

"Quickly," said Jace, and he drew Aline away. They left the house and were soon crossing the yard to the back garden, Jace's face dark.

"Can we speak?" Aline whispered.

Jace breathed out. "Not for long, but we should be safe."

"What's going on in this house?" she murmured, looking back at the towering structure. "Why aren't you and Clary allowed to leave? Why aren't you in school?"

"Valentine doesn't want us out of his sight," Jace muttered bitterly. "He thinks I don't need to be in school, that my charms are better used here, keeping Jocelyn happy."

"And Clary? Is he really concerned about her training?"

Jace paused in their walk, and he glanced back at the house, his eyes narrowing in on a third story window. "Yes, but only as a meaning of pride; he doesn't want his children to be anything less than the best. What is really is, is that Clary is Valentine's daughter; he thinks he owns her and doesn't want her running around underfoot."

Aline mulled this over. "Will he ever let you leave?"

Jace shook his head. "I don't know…if we're with Jocelyn, maybe, but he's very strict. He thinks Clary might try and run."

"Is that why he has you?"

Jace turned his face away and Aline thought he looked pained. "Partly. How much does the public know about Jonathan?"

"Valentine's son?" Aline frowned. "Not much. I guess everyone knows who he is, and what a great warrior he is. They talk about it in school, sometimes, too; we're all supposed to strive to be as good as him. Why?"

"He's not what you think," Jace said urgently. "Aline, you can't repeat this, Valentine will know where it came from." Aline bobbed her head. "Jonathan isn't part angel, he's part demon."

"That's not possible," Aline said, looking horrified.

"He is," Jace denied. "Jocelyn was horrified when he was born, because he was born part demon, and it was part of the reason she left him in the first place. Valentine insane, Aline, and he thought that if he could give Jocelyn back her son, she'd love him again."

"Is he trying to fix Jonathan?"

Jace looked down, and Aline saw tension in every line of his body; when he met her eyes, she saw a very painful look in his. "He can't. He's using me instead."

Aline's eyes narrowed. "Using you?"

"He made me come and live with them so I could take Jonathan's place with Jocelyn. He's got Isabelle and Alec somewhere, and unless I do what he says, he'll hurt them. He already took Alec away."

"Where is he?" Aline asked.

Jace barked a laugh. "I don't mean he physically took him away, I mean he…he severed the bond between us, Aline. Alec and I aren't parabatai anymore. He made me do it, and then he forced me to-to be Jonathan's parabatai."

Aline's face had gone pale and her gaze flicked over Jace, searching for some sign of his trauma. "Are you okay?"

Jace couldn't meet her gaze when he said, "I will be soon."

"I'm so sorry," Aline murmured. She looked around her, at the sloping lawns, blossoming gardens, and extravagant house; she felt that ever present will of Valentine pushing her down; she wanted to go home. "How can we make this better?"

Jace ran a hand through his hair. "I don't have a clue."