Hello again! It's been a minute. I have most of the major plot points mapped out in this already, but I was on the struggle bus with this chapter and how I wanted to get there. I don't want to rush anything just because I'm excited to get to these points, and make the story suffer for it. Honestly I get a bit overly critical when I'm writing these chapters out. I feel like a bit of a crazy fan girl, rereading parts of the old books to see how Jonathan interacted with people. He's my favoritest demon boy, and I don't want to let him down.
I'm sorry if the new story I posted made it seem like this one was in danger. I got a few PMs asking if I'd moved on, but that is NOT the case. I haven't abandoned this, I just needed a pallet cleanser. So, sadistic vampires was the go to because obviously I have a character type. What can I say? Bad guys do it sexier.
XD
Anywho, thank you all for your feedback and support. I really love reading what you all have to say about the story and how it's progressing. It inspires me to keep going. So, let's get back to it!
xXx
"Could they have picked a creepier place to meet?" Kesi was frowning beside the siblings, arms crossed. Her pale eyes trailed across the stone walls of the old, English asylum. Long abandoned and forgotten thanks to some clever wards and illusion. To passersby, the building seemed like a hollow crumbling shell left alone on the English countryside. Should any mundane seek to enter, they would find themselves instantly transported to the dilapidated courtyard of the property. None would be able to enter that did not have the power or sight to see to the truth of the building. It still stood, a gothic stone monument to insanity and barbarous practice from the time. Jonathan wondered if the vampires that resided within had kept any of the machines and tools left behind from a time of little differentiation between treatments and torture. He might want one as a curious keepsake, but that was not the most important thing within the old building. No, the important thing was the prisoners held inside.
Clary gave the structure a wary appraisal. She seemed to agree with the nervous witch, but she trusted Jonathan enough to follow him inside. He noticed her hand resting on the silver pommel of her sword as they walked and silently congratulated himself for their lessons. She was getting so much better with the weapon. Her knife throwing ability impressed him most of all these days. The girl was starting to match him in accuracy, in that respect. He'd given her his belted sheith of throwing knives just in case, knowing she could handle them now. It honestly made him proud.
"She has a point," Clary said softly. "Not that I like agreeing with her."
Kesi frowned, rolling her eyes. "Are you ever going to get over this dislike of me? I mean is civility really out of the question here?"
"Probably not," Clary shrugged as they came to a stop in the entrance hall of the asylum. "To both questions."
Jonathan hid a smirk and turned his attention on the vampire waiting to greet them. As always, Raphael looked too young for his age, too innocent to be a monster. Not that Jonathan could begrudge him that fact. He was far too handsome, he'd been told, to be such a monster. The world was funny that way.
"You made it," Raphael nodded a slight hello, wasting no time before he motioned toward the great wooden double doors behind him. "I am eager to see this method you claim to have for convincing your father's soldiers to join our cause."
"We both are," Jonathan grinned and headed for the door after him. Clary and Kesi were right at his heels. "How many did you manage to capture?"
Raphael shrugged one shoulder, his expression, as always, was neutral. "Your information was solid. We infiltrated two safehouses in London and Rome. They fought of course, but we managed to take nearly a dozen alive. We are keeping them contained in the old cells. Sturdy things, and so many useful restraints."
Kesi snickered somewhat nervously behind them. "Sounds like a kinky paradise."
"You would know," Clary grumbled beside her. Jonathan glanced back in time to catch Kesi shoot her a withering stare.
"So would you, knife play."
Jonathan cleared his throat pointedly and they both went back to glaring at one another. He couldn't keep himself from a small smirk however, and when Clary caught his eye, it made her blush and look away.
Raphael ignored them as they moved through the halls into the lower level of the asylum. He brought them through another large door, reinforced by iron, and as he opened it the sounds of angry prisoners drifted down the hall toward them.
"I assume you have all that you will need." His dark brown eyes drifted across Jonathan's weapons belt as he stopped in front of a cell. "You must be very confident in your methods of coercion."
To that, Jonathan laughed. "I am, but I'm not planning on torturing anyone tonight."
Raphael arched an eyebrow slightly, but his face remained otherwise impassive. "Oh? Have you inherited your father's gift for rousing speeches then? I'm not so sure that will be enough, even for one as...charming as you."
Jonathan grinned, glancing back at Kesi and the bag strapped across her side. "I have something else in mind actually. No speeches required, I'm told."
"You have not tested this method?"
Jonathan shrugged. "This is the test."
Raphael did not seem entirely pleased by this response, but didn't argue. Instead he pulled open the heavy metal door to the cell and motioned them inside. "Very well then. Let us see how effective this method is."
"Don't worry," Jonathan clapped him on the shoulder as they stepped into the dimly lit cell. "If it doesn't work, you can always just eat them all."
The vampire let the slightest of smiles pass his lips, but it seemed more for Jonathan's sake than any real amusement.
The cell was somewhat cramped, lit by two oil lanterns on iron brackets high against the stone walls. The group of them had room enough to huddle together as they stood in front of the crude steel mantacles that were bolted into the wall. He felt Clary stiffen slightly beside him as she took in the room and the unconscious Shadowhunter chained within it. He would have thought the imprisoned person was the cause for her discomfort, if he didn't catch the way her eyes drifted across the stone walls and floor. Her thoughts no doubt were on a similar room in Alicante, where he had tortured pretty Isabelle, and another where their relationship had taken its first real turn. He remembered the night fondly, but Clary was no doubt caught on the whipping he'd given her. He let his hand smooth down her back for comfort, pleased by the way she relaxed at his touch. They had come so far since that night. When he looked back up Raphael was watching them closely, but whatever he thought of their closeness, his expression didn't betray it.
"Kesi, get the cup," Jonathan said stepping toward the sleeping Shadowhunter. Excitement buzzed in his chest as he looked her over. She was vaguely familiar, but so many of Valentine's loyal came and went from Alicante, he couldn't place her. Honestly it didn't matter. If the infernal cup worked the way Lillith had promised, he didn't care if she'd been his best friend. They had spent weeks searching for an iron sister to craft the stolen adamas into a tool nearly identical to the Mortal cup. The fallen sister fleeing Valentine wasn't exactly eager for the job, but with a small bit of violent convincing, Jonathan managed to get what he wanted. The old hag was dead now, having completed her task. He couldn't have her replicating such a perfect chore, nor could he risk her telling anyone of its existence. Clary was unaware of the sister's fate, but he'd sworn Kesi to secrecy in that regard. He loved that she was eager to help, but Clary was entirely too sentimental when it came to lives. Eventually he would find a way to break her of this weakness, but that was a job for a later time. Now, he just wanted to test his new weapon against their father.
Kesi handed the crystalline goblet over to Jonathan, her pale eyes curious as she watched him. She seemed as eager as he was to see it used.
"Is that..." Raphael frowned at the cup, watching it closely.
"It isn't the Mortal Instrument." Jonathan took the bottle of blood Kesi pulled from her bag next, another gift from his mother, and unscrewed the lid to pour a small bit into the cup as she whispered a short incantation.
"That blood isn't human," Raphael spoke softly, almost to himself. Jonathan flashed him a smile and winked before he crouched down in front of the Shadowhunter.
"You're not wrong."
"You have dealings with demons now, young Morgenstern?"
Kesi laughed softly. "Jonathan has many allies, vampire. Be quiet and take comfort that you can count yourself among them."
Raphael didn't respond. He was too busy watching Jonathan as he prodded the Shadowhunter awake.
Her eyes popped open with a start, shifting around the room before they narrowed on Jonathan. She'd barely been awake a second before she sneered at him in disgust.
"You? You're behind this betrayal?"
He shrugged a shoulder, careful to keep out of the range of her shackled hands. "I like to think of it more as a step towards the future."
"Valentine will kill you for this," she hissed. "Son or not this is too far, even for demon tainted scum like you."
"We can't all be mindless sycophants." Jonathan glanced into the cup and swirled the contents around a moment. Her blue eyes went wide at the sight of it, her brow furrowed in confusion.
"What is that? What have you done to the cup?"
"I was hoping you could answer that for us actually. It looks like you get to be patient zero. You should be honored."
She glanced around at the others, panic settling across her face when he reached out to grab her hair and force her toward him against her restraints. Weak as she was after whatever the vampires had done to her, she didn't put up much of a fight despite her clear apprehension.
"What's your name?" He asked out of mild curiosity. If she was to be his first demonic soldier, it seemed only right he remember her.
"Mina," she said softly glancing between him and the cup warily. "We cleared a pack of werewolves together in Chicago last year."
"Really?" He laughed. "Sorry Mina, sometimes all my father's loyalists sort of blend together. Most of you die so quickly, it's hardly worth the effort to remember your names. I think this time will be different though."
"And why is that?"
Jonathan smiled. "This time you'll be worth remembering."
"Jonathan," Clary spoke sharply behind him. When he glanced back she had her arms crossed uncomfortably over her chest, looking less than amused. Her brow was creased with tension. She seemed as wary of the cup as Mina did. "Stop toying with her and get this over with."
He smirked at her before her turned back to Mina and held up the cup. "You heard the princess. Let's see what this does, shall we?"
"Wait," Mina flinched back against his hold but he was already pushing the cup up against her lips. She sputtering once against the blood that poured into her mouth and her eyes shot wide in panic. It was too late to fight him though. In her attempt to argue, it had gotten into her mouth.
The room fell into silence a long moment, everyone seemed to be holding their breath in anticipation. Mina looked around at them again, opening her mouth to curse him when he drew away, but it was cut off by her sudden cry of pain. The Shadowhunter gagged and thrashed back against the stone wall, rattling her chains. She convulsed in pain again, eyes squeezing shut as she curled in on herself and Jonathan heard Clary gasp softly at the no doubt unpleasant sight. He found himself fascinated. It lasted only moments as he watched the rune marks that scared her neck and arms began to fade, as if burning themselves away. When they were gone Mina slumped down in her restraints gasping in a breath. Her eyes popped open again, shifting wildly around the room before they fixed on him and Jonathan took a short breath of his own. The blue was gone. Her eyes now were as black as his own. She pulled herself up with her mantacles and stared at him with something he couldn't quite describe, something close to awe.
"Did it work?" Kesi asked softly bending down to look at the woman curiously. Jonathan tilted his head to search the woman's face intently.
"How do you feel Mina?"
She blinked, looking down at her hands before she turned a smile up at him. The expression seemed sharp somehow, dangerous. It was the smile he might give one of his victims. He liked that smile.
"I feel...stronger."
"And what about Valentine? How do you feel about him?"
She frowned at that, tilting her head to the side. "What do you mean? Valentine is, well he's Valentine."
"What would you do if I asked you to kill him?"
Again she frowned, seeming confused. "I would kill him I suppose. Is that what you want me to do?"
The room was quiet again, all except Raphael who whispered a soft prayer. His expression was tense like Clary's, shocked and almost disgusted. Jonathan couldn't bring himself to care about that now. His heart was pounding, the blood rushing through his ears in building excitement.
"What else would you do for me Mina?"
She didn't even hesitate. "Anything you ask."
Oh, he very much liked that answer. "Anything?"
Mina nodded as if it were a silly question. As if she couldn't figure out why he would doubt it. Jonathan narrowed his eyes slightly as he watched her, searching her face for a lie. She didn't seem to be acting, but one could never really tell. He had fooled plenty of people with a good show of kindness or feigned interest. It seemed a good time for a real test while she was still chained to the wall. He grabbed a dagger from his belt and held it out between them, tensed and ready to move away should she take the opportunity to attack.
"What if I asked you to drive this into your own neck?"
"Jonathan!" Clary hissed in panic, but he ignored her to watch Mina. The woman looked down at the blade as she took it, then back up at him with a slight frown.
"Is that really what you want?" She didn't sound afraid. It was simply a question. Jonathan nodded and with a short outward breath Mina angled the dagger at herself, seemingly resigned. Clary screamed a panicked no as the woman plunged it toward her own throat without a second thought. The motion was faster than he anticipated, almost too quick for him to stop. He barely managed to grab her wrist as the tip of the blade cut into her pale skin. She was almost as fast as he was. The thought made his heart pound in excitement. She had really meant to kill herself right there, simply because he asked her too. It was almost too good to be true. He slid the dagger from her hand and back into its sheith with a wide smile.
"But you said..." Mina frowned. "You don't want me to do it?"
"No Mina," he shook his head. "That was only a test."
"And I passed?" Her smile was relieved, almost hopeful at the thought of pleasing him. He nodded and reached out to stroke her cheek fondly. She turned into the touch with a contented sigh.
"You passed," he agreed gently. "But I have something else you can do for me."
She nodded eagerly and he glanced back at the frozen Raphael, motioning that he free her from the mantacles. "You can get me the next Shadowhunter. We have more friends to make tonight."
She grinned as Raphael produced a small key and she was unlocked from the shackles. She rubbed her wrists a moment before Jonathan helped her to her feet, unable to stop his grin. He didn't even have to push the subject. Mina ignored the others to leave the cell, happily moving to her set task. This was better than anything he could have hoped for, better than all the downworlders on Earth following him to save their own hides. If this is what the infernal cup could do, than he hardly even needed the others. An army of instantly loyal Shadowhunters, stronger and faster than their brethren, was more than he had dreamed truly possible. More than even his father's army could hope to be, because even the great Valentine Morgenstern had to bring them to heel with fear and violence. If Jonathan could get his hands on more Shadowhunters, he would be turning his father's army against him practically overnight.
"You told her to kill herself," Clary snapped, bringing him back to the present with her self-righteous anger. Her green eyes were narrowed on him, her arms crossed almost protectively over her chest. Part of him wanted to point out that she had stood there and done nothing about it, but that would only lead to arguments and her fragile feelings being hurt. It wasn't worth the trouble, and he was in too good of a mood to bother. Instead, he turned, still smiling and reached out to stroke her hair.
"I had to know it worked. I didn't really want her dead Clary. That would be a waste."
She shook her head with a frown, pulling from his touch. Her eyes were fixed on the open doorway in a mix of shock and something close to fear.
"But she did it," Clary whispered. "You asked and she just...she was really going to do it. What did you do to her Jonathan? I mean her marks went away and her eyes..."
"It worked," Kesi interjected with a grin. "It really worked! Holy shit."
"No," Raphael cut through her excitement with the sharp word. He was watching Jonathan closely, his face drawn and tense as if he saw a true monster. As if he couldn't quite believe what he'd just seen. His hand was wrapped around the small cross around his neck. "That was not holy. That was not the work of anything close to God."
Jonathan stared at him a long moment. He was slightly surprised to see the tinge of unease in the vampire's expression. He had not liked what he'd seen tonight.
"I will make an army," he spoke stiffly, watching for his reaction. "They will be better than the nephilim. Loyal to a fault. They will fight beside you without hesitation. Isn't that what you wanted vampire?"
Raphael didn't respond at first, but he managed to mold his expression back into the placid mask it usually was to hide his emotions. "But what of their souls? What will you make of the people they once were?"
Jonathan chuckled, nodding toward the cross he still gripped tightly. "I'll let you worry about what becomes of a man's soul. I have a war to win."
Raphael continued to watch him closely, even when Mina returned with a cursing man with bound hands. She smiled merrily as she dragged him into the room. Despite the fact that the Shadowhunter was a foot taller than her, she didn't seem to struggle much to keep him in her grip. She was stronger now, Jonathan noted with pleasure. As she forced his next soldier down on the stones before him, all he could do was smile. Raphael chose that moment to let out a short breath. Honestly it was the closest thing to anger Jonathan had seen the old man get to.
"Yours was a righteous and bloodthirsty lot before. What will they be now that they have been stripped of their connection to God? To their basic free will?" Raphael sneered. "This is an abomination. You are creating monsters."
"You're a little melodramatic aren't you?" Jonathan grinned. "I'm creating an army focused on winning at any cost. Your people will benefit from their sacrifice. I'm not sure why you have a problem with this."
Raphael looked at him a long moment before he let out a soft sigh. "I suppose I only wonder why you don't. You are a cold creature, Jonathan Morgenstern."
Jonathan's eyes narrowed slightly, his smile going tight against his face. "I'm still young, vampire. How many things have you put into the ground for your survival?"
"Is that what this all means to you?" Raphael sounded genuinely curious. "Survival?"
He thought of Valentine. The man who raised him in secret, in seclusion. The man who taught him to fight, and kill, and keep emotions from clouding one's judgement. The man who feared him for excelling at that last one. He was molded into a perfect weapon, and now he was so much stronger than his father. So much faster. Smarter. Yes, this was for survival. He was being smothered under the fixations of a zealot, a man who couldn't see the strength in the world around him. Valentine wasted his hatred by spreading it across a world he couldn't change. Where was the logic in that, when he could use the magic and knowledge of the downworld to gain real power?
"He imagines a world where magic can no longer touch the mundane. That is simply laughable. This world runs on magic. It bleeds into other worlds filled with creatures we can barely comprehend. There is no stopping that, but there are certainly ways to harness it."
"And what is it you might harness all this power on?" Raphael asked softly, watching him in a steady, blinkless way that made him a little uncomfortable. He grinned to cover the discomfort.
"I'm not exactly sure yet." He winked to make the vampire uncomfortable too. "But you'll know when I do."
Clary sucked a breath in through her teeth as she stepped back against the far wall. She didn't want to watch this a second time. The promise of soldiers was one thing, but this...this assimilation was something horrible on a scale she had never known. She had watched a woman stripped entirely of her self in less than a minute. Mina had looked at Jonathan as if he hung the moon, when before she was ready to tear his eyes out. Jonathan, who had simply smiled in triumph when they all watched that woman's soul slip right out of her body.
Suddenly she couldn't breathe. Clary slipped out of the door to the cell and moved quickly down the hallway in search of an empty room. She passed cells along the way, filled with groaning and cursing Shadowhunters. Every one would be changed tonight. Every person would stop being a person. Jonathan would make them into something else. The thought made her heart ache and her stomach twist. They were destroying lives right now. Ripping away mothers and fathers and sisters and brothers. They were deleting people from their own bodies, and Clary was a part of it. She was right here and she didn't know how to stop it. She didn't even know if that's what she truly wanted. She hadn't moved to stop them. She barely even complained. She had simply watched. Was there something to that? Was she becoming so comfortable with the horrors in their lives that she was numb to more? She didn't want to think about that. Best to put the horrible sickness out of mind. She was getting really good at pushing away the unpleasant things in her life she didn't want to think about too closely. It certainly wasn't a healthy skill, but it helped to keep going.
"Do you need some water Clarissa?" The placid tone made her spin to face the hall, finding Raphael standing behind her. His eyes fixed briefly on her trembling fists before she released them and shook her head.
"No. I'm fine. I just needed some air. It's getting cramped in there."
"Claustrophobia?" He asked with the softest note of humor. "That's what is bothering you? Not the terror your brother is unleashing on your fellow nephilim down the hall?"
"Fine, ok." She scrubbed a hand over her face, glancing away. "I didn't want to watch. It's all...a bit much."
"I must admit, I'm releaved to see you realize the problem with this." Raphael sighed, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his dark slacks. "Shadowhunters stripped of their angelic allegiance. Truth be told I have never seen something quite so disturbing. They are...wrong. Even you must feel that."
"Jonathan needs an army." She sounded like she was trying to convince herself more than him. Raphael sighed softly, reaching up to brush his fingertips against the gold cross he wore.
"He had an army in us. Now he threatens to create something far worse."
Her eyes narrowed slightly. She decided to focus on the potential for his betrayal, rather than the wretched thing she was helping her brother accomplish in the other room. "Does this mean you'll no longer fight on his side?"
"I will uphold my promise Clarissa Morgenstern. Now more than ever."
Truth be told, Clary was a little disturbed by that. She knew Raphael was old and clearly strong enough that he was chosen to lead the New York vampires. She also knew despite his affliction, that the vampire was still deeply religious. He saw what was happening in that room down the hall, and he balked at it. She couldn't actually remember seeing him flinch at anything, he was always so cool and collected. What Jonathan was doing had shaken one of the calmest men she'd ever encountered, and even still he was going to let it happen. He wouldn't go against Jonathan.
"You're afraid of him." She couldn't keep the question to herself. "Aren't you?"
The vampire looked at her a moment, sort of like a parent that didn't want to admit to a child how utterly stupid their question was. "Are you not? Surely you have seen more of his darkness than any other."
"Why do you say that?"
Raphael's mouth pulled into the barest of smiles as he continued to watch her. "I can smell him on your skin Clarissa. You are closer to him than even his pocketed witch. Closer than you should be. I think we both know that."
She was shocked into stillness at that. Her chest tightened sharply as her lungs fought for air. Clary couldn't even bring herself to look away. The vampire was watching her without expression, but his chocolate colored eyes were fierce and locked on her face. She could see the judgment in them, the disgust. For a long moment, there was only silence between them, and then Raphael waved his hand away as if to dispell it. Ad if he could banish this new tension with a simple gesture.
"I will not pretend I don't find this disturbing. When I first met you, fighting to save the Daylighter from my seethe, so focused on what you believed to be just and right, I would never have thought this possible." He tilted his head to the side, watching her almost curiously. "He must be a very convincing sort of monster, to have swayed his own sister into such...distasteful proclivities. That is not my concern, however. Your soul, and where this path will inevitably lead you, is not my problem." Raphael's posture straightened suddenly, his head tipping down at her in a way that shadowed his face. Somehow the young man seemed to slip away. Something old, powerful, and weary watched her now.
"I will say this. Be careful Clarissa Morgenstern. If he can sway you into sin such as this, the others will come much more easily. His is a darkness that clearly infects. Remember that once you fought for goodness and love. Are you so sure you will continue to do that when this is all over? When he has molded you into something as twisted as he is? As evil?"
"That..." she shook her head, trying to hide the fact that she was shaking, though she knew there was no point. "That isn't going to happen."
"Yes," he spoke almost solemnly. "I imagine you said that many times before he bedded you. And yet, here we are."
"Clary." The familiar voice made her jump, but Clary was oddly happy to see Kesi. The warlock was watching Raphael with narrowed eyes. She held out her hand and Clary didn't hesitate to rush across the room to take it.
"We're nearly done here. Jonathan is just giving the new recruits their orders."
"Recruits," Raphael smiled tightly. "Such an odd way to describe the newly assimilated monsters you have just created."
Kesi shot back a sharp smile of her own as she shifted Clary just behind her. "Those monsters are going to help you recruit others, and guard your people. You should be thanking us."
"I will accept their help," Raphael shrugged. "But I will not pretend to be pleased by these abominations being cast into our world. It seems the Seelie queen was more accurate in her pet name than she knew. Jonathan Morgenstern is indeed the Morning Star, and he is dragging down the angels to create demons, just as his namesake did in the beginning."
"You're awfully judgemental for a damned vampire." Kesi scowled.
"And you are a foolish girl to believe this will end well for you Kesidorma. Not when your master has set what passes for his affections on your rival. You play a dangerous game child. You both do." His dark eyes shifted to Clary, holding her in a heavy stare that made her skin crawl. "The devil does not love Clarissa. He takes and he uses until there is nothing left. For your own sake, remember who you are. Remember what real love looks like, before this darkness swallows you whole."
"Alright asshole," Kesi snapped, her hands on her hips. "Get off your soap box. I don't know why you're screwing with her head, but you're done now. Unless you want me to go talk to Jonathan. I'm sure he'll love that you're head fucking his sister. "
To that Raphael gave an actual smile, but the expression was dark, humorless. "I believe his father's use of him as a trump card to threaten his enemies is one of Jonathan's chief complaints. I might watch that in the future warlock, lest he find the same irritation for you."
In the next moment, Raphael was gone, the hallway empty except for the two girls staring after him. Kesi broke the quiet first, scoffing after the vampire.
"Is that bag of dusty dicks serious right now?" She shook her head with a heavy sigh. "All this moaning about making evil. Like I'm going to take moral advice from the guy who was still following the church while it burned midwives."
"I'm not sure he's that old," Clary chimed in weakly. It felt better than listening to Raphael's words repeat over and over in her head.
Kesi rolled her eyes. "Whatever. He probably still flogs himself for the lord."
"Well that's an image I didn't want rattling around in my brain." Clary jumped at the deep sound of that familiar voice. Her body seemed to shrink as she turned to him. Fear that he had overheard the conversation, made her mouth go dry.
Jonathan leaned against the wall with his arms crossed. His black eyes were on Clary, his expression mildly amused. He didn't seem angry, or offended, but then she wasn't sure he would show it if he was. He was simply watching her.
"You left," he said. Though his tone was perfectly neutral, Clary felt herself tense.
"I was..." She struggled for a lie, then sighed and answered honestly. "I was overwhelmed."
He watched her a moment more, though to Clary it felt like forever trapped in his gaze. When his black eyes finally shifted away, she let out the breath she'd been holding and willed herself to stop being such a baby.
"Are you finished?" She asked, to try and steer the conversation away from anything uncomfortable. It was a bit of a struggle, considering that she couldn't get Mina's black eyes out of her head.
"Almost," Jonathan shrugged, glancing at Kesi. "They could use a bit of supervision while they wrap things up."
The warlock didn't argue. She was hurrying down the hall with Clary's next breath. She was left alone in the hallway with Jonathan, who's eyes were back on her face. He studied her expression a long moment in silence, but she couldn't tell what he was thinking. Not until he spoke again.
"This frightens you." It wasn't a question, but neither was he mocking her. Strangely he seemed undisturbed by this information, almost like he expected it.
"Yes," Clary nodded, letting her eyes fall to the floor. It was hard to hold his gaze when he watched her in that steady, calculated way. "I know we need their help. This could change everything but...Jonathan are we taking those people's mind from them? Are they still in there at all?"
"They aren't robots Clary." She hated that his tone was so neutral. Part of her wanted him to feel something about what they were doing to those Shadowhunters. She knew it wasn't likely that he would pity them, but couldn't he at least recognize that this was so much more than gaining an army? If they were building it on the backs of the mindless, how were they any better than Valentine and his recruitments through fear?
"They aren't themselves either," she shook her head. "It was like you ripped her out of her own body. She's just a zombie now. God Jonathan, what are we doing?"
"Come here." She looked up to find him standing beside her. Jonathan snatched up her hand and headed for the cells further down the hall. She started to protest, but he stopped just as a black eyed man with a trim beard stepped out of one of the doorways. He was dressed in the traditional Shadowhunter gear of black leather, but his weapons were all missing from his belt. It wouldn't have mattered much, Clary reasoned, because he was at least six feet tall and built like a football linebacker. His dark gaze shifted up across the stone walls as if he were seeing it all for the first time. She wondered if those black eyes saw the world differently, with more detail, as Jonathan did. When his distracted gaze fell to the pair of them he paused, his lips tugging into a smile.
"What's your name?" Jonathan asked without preamble. His fingers were still tight around Clary's hand.
"Asher," the big man replied in a gruff voice.
"And why are you here Asher?"
Clary's frowned at the question, wondering where Jonathan was going with this.
"I managed to survive the vampire's assault on our base. They knocked me unconscious and brought me here." His black eyes shifted briefly to Clary, then their clasped hands, but he didn't seem to react. In the next moment his eyes were back on Jonathan. "When I woke, Mina was carrying me down the hall like I was nothing." He laughed and scratched his head. "She's always been such a tiny thing. I can't deny it was a bit of a shock."
Jonathan smirked, tilting his head to the side as he watched his new soldier flex his fingers, staring down at them like they were someone else's. Clary could see the pride in Jonathan's dark eyes, the excitement. All he saw was their power, and how he might use it.
"What do you feel now?" She wasn't in the mood to be subtle. The former Shadowhunter smiled and spoke like a person, but was he really? Was this anything more than imitation?
"Meaning?" Asher frowned, looking at her curiously. "I'm a little hungry I guess..."
"No," she snapped, honestly surprised Jonathan wasn't jumping to stop her. Instead he listened quietly, almost as curious as she was. "After you drank from the cup. What did you feel?"
Asher stared down at the floor a moment in thought. His fingers flexed again and his expression became something between confusion and awe.
"It hurt at first, like acid running through my blood. Somehow I knew it was burning parts of me away, and I panicked. I thought it would burn me away completely, but then..." A tiny smile tugged at the corner of his mouth and he stared down at his large hands. "I realized it wasn't getting rid of me. I was changing. My marks all burned from my skin but when they were gone something else filled me up. Something powerful. I feel strong. Stronger than I've ever been. I can see through the shadows of these dark rooms without a mark to enhance my sight. I can hear Mina chatting with Claude in the other room as if I were standing beside her." His eyes moved up to Jonathan, staring at him in awe. "I was so afraid before this. Afraid of Valentine's fickle moods, afraid that the downworld would eventually rise up against us, but I feel...free. There is nothing to fear anymore."
Clary narrowed her eyes, glancing once at the smirking demon beside her. It was all too convenient. "Did he tell you to say this to me?"
Asher frowned in confusion, looking between them. "Why would he..."
"So you aren't just saying this because he wants me to calm down?"
"Um...I'm lost." Asher looked to Jonathan, who simply held up a hand as if to say he had no part in it. Clary watched the giant man for a long moment.
"Are you...you?"
Jonathan finally interjected at this strange question because Asher looked entirely confused. "My sister seems to think you are empty in there. She's afraid that I'm turning you into mindless slaves. Like humans that have been marked."
"Has that been a problem before?" Asher arched an eyebrow. Clary shook her head.
"No, but I saw how quickly Mina followed Jonathan's orders. She didn't hesitate. Isn't that a little strange to you?"
"Jonathan saved us," Asher said gruffly, his tone hardening. "He has made us strong enough to fight any enemy. Shadowhunters no longer have to die because the downworld outclasses us in most physical abilities. Why wouldn't we be grateful? Why wouldn't we owe him some kind of allegiance?"
"And that's all it is?" She asked doubtfully. "You feel indebted to him for giving you power?"
"It's more than even the angel gave his people," Asher grinned. "A real fighting chance."
Jonathan turned to look at Clary with a slight smile. When she grudgingly met his eyes, he reached out to tuck a red curl behind her ear.
"Are you satisfied?" He asked it softly, searching her eyes. "We aren't destroying lives like that old vampire seems to think. We're helping our people Clary, just like you wanted."
She didn't respond, not just because she felt like this was only a half truth he offered her, but because he'd just admitted to overhearing her awkward conversation with Raphael. Her eyes went back to the large man beside them, but he was admiring the clean, unmarked skin of his arms in fascination. He didn't seem to be in pain. He wasn't watching them slack jawed and awaiting orders like a robot. He seemed...well not normal, but certainly something close. He sounded like a regular Shadowhunter impressed by a new weapon. Was that all this was? An upgrade to their physical prowess? Clary wanted to believe that, and yet she remembered Mina. Mina who nearly stabbed herself in the throat just because Jonathan asked. That couldn't be normal.
"Clary you're making that face." Jonathan sighed, tilting up her chin so he could search her eyes again. She frowned and smacked away his hand. She wasn't sure why, but she didn't want him to touch her at the moment.
"What face?"
"The one you make when you think the world is crumbling and you don't know how to stop it."
She paused at that, realizing how tense her muscles were, how cold she felt. When Jonathan reached out to cup her cheek with his hand, this time she didn't push him away. Her hands tightened into fists in his leather jacket and she leaned forward to snuggle into his chest. She let the warmth of him surround her and rested her head on his shoulder to breathe in his scent. It was strange how such a frightening creature could provide her with so much comfort. Or maybe she just allowed herself to drown in him, to chase away the realities she didn't want to face. Raphael wasn't out of line to suggest she watch herself, but where would she be without Jonathan? How could she survive in this frightening world without his strength to sheild her? She was so very lonely. Without him, she would have no one left.
"I miss my friends." The comment came out of nowhere, she knew, and it made Jonathan stiffen against her. It passed quickly, his body relaxing and an arm wrapped around her to stroke along her spine. The slow soothing contact made her eyes drift closed as he held her.
"They are still alive," Jonathan responded simply. His tone was carefully neutral again. She could tell he didn't particularly like this subject.
"I know. I know you promised they would be ok, but..."
"You don't believe me anymore." It wasn't a question. He spoke flatly, without inflection. Clary pushed back against his chest enough to look up at him, shaking her head.
"That's not what I'm saying! If I didn't trust you, why would I be here?" Jonathan stated at her a moment in silence, his black eyes locked on hers. She could tell he didn't quite believe her, so she rushed on. "I know you'll keep your word to me, ok? I don't doubt that. It's just...when this is all done, when you've made an army to topple Valentine, what comes next? What will we do?"
"Anything we want Clary. That's sort of the point."
"But what about them? This...what we're doing to these people, they will see it as wrong."
"Because you do?"
"No, I..." Clary shook her head with a sigh. "I don't know what to feel about it yet. It's certainly frightening. You can control them Jonathan, that is so much power to hold, and my friends...well they are already so afraid of you. I'm afraid they won't be able to see passed this. They won't understand."
Jonathan's eyes were sharp in the dim light, his focus entirely on her. She could feel the tension humming beneath his skin at her words, but she wasn't entirely sure which part he disliked so much.
"What does that matter Clary? You won't need them when this is over."
To that she frowned, stepping back away from him. "I will always need them, Jonathan. I love them."
"So you'll dictate your happiness based on their narrowed view of the world?"
"It isn't narrow," she snapped, feeling a little offended by his continued dismissal of the people she cared for. "They only want what's right."
He smiled at that, but the expression was sharp and mocking. "And they are the arbiters of right and wrong, are they?"
"I'm not saying that. They are good people doing the best they can. I only want to make sure they will be taken care of when this is all over."
Beside them both, Asher was looking awkwardly between them. "This seems like a private sort of thing, so I'm just gunna..." He took a tentative step back watching Jonathan until he nodded at him. "Yeah, I'll be over there."
When he left Clary crossed her arms, glaring and the black eyed demon in front of her. "Why are you so threatened by them Jonathan?"
"I'm not threatened," he scoffed with a frown. "I just don't understand why you can't let go of the people who abandoned you. The gay kid tried to kill you!"
"His name is Alec, and he was just..." She shook her head. Thinking of the way Alec had looked at her in that alley made her heart ache. "He just doesn't understand."
"They are never going to understand Clary. Why don't you see that? They see me as a monster, and because you are with me willingly, they see you as the same. They are a threat to you. Your sentimentality will allow them to get to you. If they hurt you, I don't care what promises I've made. I will kill them."
Clary stepped closer to glare up at him, jabbing a finger into his chest. "Don't you dare threaten my friends Jonathan Christopher Morgenstern. You will not lay a finger on them, do you understand?"
His black gaze was steady on her, his expression flat. "As I told you before, they will be spared, so long as they are not a threat to you. That is the best offer you are going to get."
"If you ever hurt them," Clary practically growled the words. "I will leave. You will never see me again."
His stoney expression shifted into mild amusement. A tiny, mocking smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "And where would you go Clary? How will you hide from me?"
Her jaw clamped in anger as she remembered the brand between her shoulder blades. He was right. Even if she ran, he could find her. There was no hiding from him anymore. She stepped away from him in irritation of this thought, unable to stand looking at the dark humor glinting in his eyes.
"Hurry up and take me home," She snapped instead. "I don't want to be in this creepy, old place anymore."
His voice was soft and mocking. "Whatever you say Clary."
"I'll be waiting in the lobby." With that, she turned on her heel and stormed away. She didn't want to look at his smug face right now. She just wanted to go home and sleep. The world would feel less dark once she had some good sleep, she reasoned.
Jonathan watched her stomp away down the hall with his fist clenched tightly at his side. He had expected a certain amount of push back on the Shadowhunters they were turning, but her fixation on that group of idiots was becoming a pain in the ass.
"Jonathan," Kesi appeared in a doorway, watching him cautiously. "We're done here. I've got the cup packed away, so we can go now."
"She's never going to let them go." He didn't know why he said it out loud, but the anger seeping into his tone made the warlock flinch.
"Let who go?"
"Those mud brained goodie two shoes," He snapped. "Even though Lightwood tried to kill her, she's clinging on to the idea that they will accept her back one day."
Kesi glanced down hesitantly. "Isn't that a good thing in the end? I mean, if they do that it would keep her happy."
His eyes shifted to Kesi and he watched her wilt beneath the anger on his face. "If they take her back in, it's only a matter of time before they convince her to leave me. They will undo all the work I've done to bring her closer. They will take her from me."
"Well you can't kill them," Kesi shrugged slightly, doing her best to hold his eyes. "If they die she will blame you. You'll lose her for sure."
"I know that," he snapped, running his hand back through his hair. If any of them died, he would be the first person Clary blamed. There would be no convincing her otherwise. He couldn't let that happen, but the little idiots had to go. More importantly he had to convince her to let them go by her own choice, otherwise it would never happen. It would take a bit of effort, but Jonathan was already coming up with a plan. They couldn't have her. Clary was his, and he would not allow anyone else to make that claim. He had worked too hard to sway her to his side, put in too much effort slowly stripping her life of anything but himself. Her friends were the final string connecting her to her old life, and he was going to sever it before it was too late.
"So?" Kesi pressed softly. "What are you going to do?"
Jonathan sighed, staring down the dark stone hallway in the direction Clary had stormed off in.
"I'm going to help her come to terms with reality," he replied stiffly. "It's time she faced the truth. They will never accept who she is becoming, or the things she's done. They will break her heart with shame and mistrust."
"So?" Kesi frowned. Jonathan gave her a dark smile and shrugged.
"So I'm going to let them."