Howdy all. Sorry it's been a while. I'm in the middle of moving across the country so things have been a little hectic. I'm hoping to have the next chapter up fairly soon, but that will depend on whether I get a few moments of chill between drives. God I'm so sick of cars. And I'm pretty sure my cat hates me now. Anywho! Drop me some reviews if you can. I'd love to know what you all think of this next bit and where things are going.
"It's looking at little grim." Asher sighed. The giant was crouched behind an outcropping of boulders with their small group. Five Shadowhunters including Jonathan and Clary. Other small groups were scattered around the small compound building tucked down in the valley beyond the hill they were hiding on, waiting for Jonathan's signal to pounce. Unfortunately, the intel they had gotten was somewhat faulty. Rather than the dozen or so Shadowhunters they had expected inside, a quick sweep with Kesi's magic revealed over thirty. On the one hand, Clary knew they would need these Shadowhunters to add to their growing army, on the other, they only had about 18 of Jonathan's loyal soldiers with them now. The numbers were far from their advantage.
"There are so many exits. We can cover them with the men we've brought, but we would only have a handful left for the actual assault." Asher sighed, tapping his fingers against the boulder.
"Well that is annoying." Jonathan kept his eyes on the building. The hand that braced him against the boulder in front of them curled into a fist. To Clary's right, Mina cleared her throat.
"We could portal in the reserves," she suggested softly. "Your warlock can surely handle that."
"It would take too long." Jonathan shook his head. He was glaring at the building like it owed him answers. "They will be switching shifts by the time we have all our people. Not to mention, portals cause ripples. They will have ways to monitor for them. We can't alert them to our presence before we've gotten inside."
"So this is going to get interesting then?" Asher smirked, but the expression clearly wasn't happy. It didn't make anyone else smile either. Jonathan didn't seem in the mood for jokes anyway.
"We can take the building," he said slowly. "But we can't risk any of them escaping to warn Valentine. Not this early."
"The vampires picked a hell of a time to back out of a raid."
"The new york seethe is being monitored by Valentine's men." Jonathan snapped, though his irritation was clearly directed at their situation. "Raphael could not risk any more time away. He has to make appearances, and his people can't be seen doing anything shady. No changes in routine."
"They could have spared like five guys." Asher grumbled, but he sobered the instant Jonathan's black eyes snapped to him.
"If you have nothing helpful to contribute, then be quiet."
That about killed the big guy's odd sense of humor. He nodded once and turned to look back at the building. Maybe he thought it would suddenly shout its secrets to them.
Clary was done watching them grumble to one another. Her thoughts were on doors and locks. She pictured a great lock snapping closed and trapping its contents within. As the image solidified in her mind, its details grew clearer. She could see a strange symbol on the lock, a looping of curving lines that all connected into a sort of closed fist. The moment the symbol flashed through her mind, she knew what it was, what it could possibly do. A smile pulled at her mouth.
"Can't we lock them inside?"
Jonathan glanced at her briefly before his focus was back on the building in thoughtful observation. "How would we lock Shadowhunters inside of a place when they have steles? Blocking the exits doesn't work either. We don't have the time or materials to barricade them in."
"I don't mean to lock the doors normally. I mean we use a rune."
His eyes shifted back to her a moment, his brow rising. "And what rune would that be?"
To this she shrugged. Her voice became a little less confident.
"Sort of...the one I just made up?"
"You did what now?" Asher frowned, looking between them. Clary felt herself blush. She forgot sometimes that her ability was not entirely common knowledge. At most it was whispered about in certain circles.
"I made a rune," she said a little more confidently, though that was hard with Jonathan staring at her so openly, like he couldn't decide if he believed her or not.
"She does that?" Asher asked doubtfully. Jonathan gave him a slow nod, but his eyes remained on Clary.
"On occasion," he answered. "But in my experience, never when it's benefited me."
She frowned back at him doing her best not to raise her voice when they were supposed to be hiding. It came out as a sort of harsh whisper.
"I've never had a reason to use it."
"I can think of a dozen off the top of my head." He countered flatly.
"I'm not a trained monkey, Jonathan. You can't just give me a list of random crap and expect me to make it exist."
"Except that you're doing it right now." He shot back. "Assuming whatever you're thinking works."
Clary crossed her arms, tilting her head back to give him a snotty look. This really wasn't the time to argue, but she was still so irritated with him. She just couldn't stop herself.
"I don't see you coming up with any better plans. Mr. I've got it all under control."
Jonathan scowled at that, giving a frustrated sigh. "We got faulty information. It happens sometimes. That or Valentine is doubling the numbers he keeps now that he lost two reconnaissance groups. Adapting to his changes was always going to be part of this Clarissa."
She hated it when he used her full name so patronizingly. "I'm still not hearing your Better-than-mine plan."
Asher reminded Clary he was there when he snickered softly beside them. "You two bicker like siblings."
"We are siblings," Jonathan snapped back. The Shadowhunter promptly shut his mouth, but he was still fighting a smile. "Clarissa is just being a bit of a bitch today."
Her jaw dropped before she slapped at his chest. He deflected it easily, but the irritation in his dark eyes seemed like reward enough.
"Screw you. Figure it out yourself then."
"See?" Jonathan laughed softly, glancing at Asher. "She's willing to let you all die just to spite me."
While Clary struggled to come up with a response that demonstrated the ridiculousness of that comment, Asher sighed.
"Sorry Miss Clary, but that does sound kinda bitchy."
She shot the large man a glare as he grinned back at her. He was clearly teasing, but she didn't like the implication.
"You're both assholes. I would never do that." She searched a moment to grumpily snatch up a stick and sketch the swirling knotted design into the dirt for them. "There, ok?"
Jonathan inspected the mark a long moment before he looked back up at her.
"I've never seen this before. What is it based on?"
"I don't know how it works Jonathan," she snapped. "I just see them when I really need them."
"We're going to come back to this later." He gave her and the mark a pointed look, then turned to Asher. "We've wasted enough time. Tell the others to cover the exits in small groups. We enter from all points, and meet in the middle. If Clary's rune doesn't work, we can at least minimize the possible escape artists. If it does happen to work, Kesi can portal us all out once we're finished."
Asher gave a short, half assed salute before he turned and disappeared back down the hill. Mina closed into his place, giving Clary's rune a wary glance.
"So we're still going for it?" She asked. She sounded more curious than afraid. Jonathan shrugged.
"We don't have much of a choice. We need more bodies."
"Soldiers," Clary corrected sharply, but he ignored her.
"We don't have the numbers yet for a full assault on Idris. If we take this group we would have enough people to take an institute next. Our people will double. We'll begin to have a real fighting chance."
"So," Mina twirled a lock of her hair as she watched the building. She was far too calm for this situation, Clary thought. "Calculated risk then."
Jonathan laughed softly and shrugged his shoulders. "Let's see if it pans out."
"Let's do it." Mina grinned back, her smile was a little too sharp, kind of verging on creepy. Her voice was confidence itself. She had no doubts, or perhaps she believed Jonathan couldn't steer her wrong. Worse than anything was the possibility that it simply didn't matter to her, because Jonathan had given the order. Clary swallowed that unpleasant thought as Jonathan shifted to move closer to the building. Across the small clearing, Clary saw others doing the same. They shifted like pale shadows in the tree line, flitting across the space almost too fast to see. It was an eerie sight, but strangely exciting. She felt the hum of adrenaline building as she followed quietly down the opposite side of the hill. There was anticipation in the air, a hungry vibration beneath her skin that wanted blood. She could feel it, and by the looks on the faces of those around them, they could too.
Clary took a deep breath as they stopped in front of the door. Jonathan unlocked it with a rune. He didn't miss the opportunity to shoot her a pointed look, as if to say, yours better be stronger than this. She hoped it was too. She clenched her stele in her hand as they slipped into the building.
The room was dark, but she had prepared with a mark for better eyesight with Jonathan earlier. She could easily make out the hallway of doors they stood in, like an office building. When she turned to try her rune on the door, Jonathan stopped her with a hand on her wrist.
"Not yet," he whispered. "Give the others time to get inside."
Waiting felt like hell. Every tiny sound could have been a Shadowhunter slinking in to kill them. Jonathan was tense, watching the hallway with laser focus. Mina seemed content to whip a dagger at dizzying speeds around her fingers. The display was impressive, but once again Clary worried at the blasé attitude she had toward an imminent fight. She was busy wondering about the small, creepy woman when Jonathan squeezed her wrist and released it.
"Now Clary. Try it."
She didn't need to be told twice. She all but slammed the crystal tip of her stele into the steel door.
Lock. She thought, picturing a box with a hundred latches, each snapping into place in rapid succession. Lock! The symbol spilled from the tip of her stele in flowing curves until it was completed. As it formed she felt a swelling of energy inside of her. It flowed down her arm in an almost painful vibration to spill into the lines she created. When the mark was finished, she let out a ragged breath. For a moment she was breathless, staring at the mark as it glowed dimly against the steel door. She heard the lock click heavily into place and gave Jonathan a winded smile, leaning momentarily against the wall.
"One lock." She panted. "Suck it."
The demon shot her a frown, but she could see amusement fighting at the corners of his mouth. He tried the door, but it wouldn't even budge.
"Huh," Mina said, tapping the tip of her dagger against her hip. "Guess you really do have talents."
Clary frowned at the backhanded compliment, but Jonathan was urging her on behind him down the hallway.
"We can't assume it worked on all the doors. We need to move quickly." He shot a look at Mina. "No moral blows if you can help it. Remember we need them alive."
Mina gave him another of her creepy grins and pulled out a second dagger.
Guess this is really happening, Clary thought as she and Jonathan drew their swords. She was so not prepared for this, but here it came. She only hoped Jonathan's command to keep the others alive was enough to keep the losses thin today. She didn't want to think of all the ghosts already in this building, wandering free with no idea that Hell was coming in the next few minutes.
The sound of steel scraping across steel was the first thing Clary heard to indicate the issuing fight. Somewhere off in the compound, someone screamed, and then it was on. Voices raised in the halls, some in alarm, some in the obvious cries of battle. Clary tensed, and almost as if he sensed it, Jonathan glanced back at her. Her grip on her short sword was bone white, her jaw set firmly. She had to remind herself that while she could easily hunt demons with him, fighting other human beings was another ball game entirely. As they rounded a corner and Mina charged ahead into one of the rooms, he fell back into step beside Clary. His free hand brushed down soothingly over her arm and he bent to murmur in her ear.
"Not so tight. Remember your lessons."
Her eyes cut sideways to him before her mouth tugged into a harsh smirk, more irritated than amused. You're still mad at him, remember?
"Which part?"
He chuckled at that, eyes scanning the short hallway before them that opened into what looked like a small mess hall. "The sex parts might be a little distracting at the moment."
Clary snorted a laugh without meaning to, then forced herself to be still and quiet.
Mina slipped out of the room she'd been searching and hurried passed them into the mess hall with another tall Shadowhunter trailing silently behind. They were clearing rooms like a tactical team, Clary realized, one after another. She could hear fighting from other places far off in the compound. Frankly she shouldn't have been paying attention to that. It distracted her from the soft sound of a boot squeaking against the tile to her right. She realized what the sound was just as Jonathan grabbed her by the back of her jacket and wrenched her out of the way of a swinging sword.
Clary made a soft sound of alarm, managing to steady herself on her feet as Jonathan shot passed her to clash his own blade against the attacking one. Her eyes were fixed on the boneless way he seemed to move, dodging blows with an effortless grace that seemed more like dancing than a fight. It was almost enough to distract her from the second Shadowhunter that rushed from the room her attacker had sprung from. This time, she was ready. She spun away from the knife that slashed at her side, swinging her sword as she faced him again. The blonde Shadowhunter growled, hopping back on the balls of his feet before he pitched toward her for another strike. Her mind went to Jonathan's training and she shifted her hips to avoid the blow, catching the man's arm as it extended out in front of her. Clary raised her short sword up above them, bringing the black pommel down against the side of his skull with a dull crack. The Shadowhunter went limp, collapsing to the floor in a heap, and she spun to face the sounds of the others in the mess hall.
Jonathan was engaged with a short man with red hair, using a pair of curving circular blades to fend off his sword. There was a smile on his face as he avoided a slash of the spinning blades and kicked the man back away from himself. Mina sprung across Clary's vision in the next moment like a great cat, her smile just as full of wicked delight as she landed on a thick armed man with a short sword. Both crashed to the floor and Clary hurried passed them to slash at the Shadowhunter who attempted to catch Mina while she was distracted.
"Play fair," she said when he turned narrowed dark eyes her way. His jaw set at her teasing and he sprung toward her. His first blow with the small blade missed as Clary parried with her sword, but his other hand slashed out in the next second to catch her across the arm. If not for her thick leather jacket, he would have managed to slash her. She danced back away from his next series of blows until she hit a table. The Shadowhunter grinned at the surprise on her face, lurching forward to stab at her stomach. From her awkward position, pinned back against the table, she barely managed to block his knife. He was too close to use her sword, already in the sphere Jonathan had taught her to keep guarded. With no other options, Clary lifted her knee, throwing her entire body into the blow as she plowed it into his ribs. The Shadowhunter grunted, his grip on the knife in his right hand going slack as he reflexively tucked the arm against his side. She used that moment to grab him by the front of the shirt and rock her head into his.
The Shadowhunter fell back, but Clary was left reeling for a moment as well. The move seemed so easy in the movies, but they forgot to mention that it hurt like hell. She was still shaking away the dizziness when Jonathan appeared to her left and kicked the fallen man across the face. His head snapped back with a sickening crunch as his nose broke, but he went still, unconscious.
"That was stupid," Jonathan smirked, arching a brow as Clary shook away the remaining dizziness. She leveled him with a frown as he took her hand and tugged her away from the table.
"I was sort of out of options," she sighed back, rubbing her forehead. It was going to leave a nasty bruise. Jonathan opened his mouth to say something else but another Shadowhunter shot towards them with a sword. Unfortunately for him, Jonathan avoided it easily and grabbed him by the back of the neck. He let the man's own momentum carry him to the table and slammed his face down against the wooden surface. As the Shadowhunter slid down to the floor with a groan, Jonathan turned a smirk up to Clary.
"That works better," he teased, so she stuck out her tongue and leapt over the body, headed for the next hallway.
The sounds of blades clashing and the dull thuds of flesh on flesh was all around her. She should have been nervous, or even frightened, but the electric buzz of anticipation she'd felt when they rushed the compound was still in her chest. She was almost...excited. Clearly Jonathan was starting to rub off on her. Despite the wild situation, Clary felt herself smiling, even when a young woman with dark hair sprung at her from a side room with an angry cry. They met with swords, dodging and slashing and even through the close calls, Clary felt herself smiling. She wondered if she looked like Mina. She was enjoying this. She wondered briefly if that was wrong, but a pair of golden eyes flashed through her mind. A beautiful boy with golden eyes that used to fight for fun and killed with almost as much grace as Jonathan possessed.
Jace enjoyed this. We used to enjoy it together.
The thought made her heart ache so she pushed it and the golden eyes that still haunted her from her mind. Now was not the time for reminiscing.
She wasn't sure where Jonathan was now. It was better to keep focused on the potential threats around her anyway. She passed Shadowhunters engaged with their black eyed comrades, the latter moving with speed and grace that nearly matched Jonathan's. In one open room, she spotted Asher. The giant man knocked a bladed hand that slashed at him to the side with such force that she thought she heard the bone snap. As the Shadowhunter cried out in pain and dropped his blade, Asher grabbed him by the jacket and lifted him clear off his feet, slamming him back into the floor. The man went limp and Asher took a deep breath, catching sight of Clary briefly. He winked at her before he spun to assist another of their fellow soldiers with the sword wielding Shadowhunter behind him. Clary hurried passed them to the next hallway, eyes scanning for combatants. The hum of excitement and the thrill of battle carried her through the next two rooms. She found others engaged in fights and continued on to find her own prey. If she didn't know any better, she might have thought she was hunting. There was no time to consider this strange battle hunger however, because as she entered the next room, a fist flew out of nowhere and cracked into the side of her head.
Clary staggered back against the wall with a grunt of pain, blinking wildly until her eyes focused on the man before her. She recognized him from the manor in Idris, one of Valentine's loyal enforcers. He clearly knew her too because for just a moment his eyes widened in surprise at the sight of her. In the next second, his jaw set in anger, his blue eyes narrowing. He shot forward, drawing a knife and slashing it upwards so quickly she barely had time to block it with her sword. Clary cried out, spinning and shoving herself away from the wall but the Shadowhunter caught her hair in a fist and yanked her nearly off her feet.
"Come here bitch," he seethed, and his blade slashed across her sword arm, tearing through the leather. She yelped at the pain and tried to keep her grip on the weapon, but he knocked it from her hand with a smack of his knife. The short sword clattered to the tile floor and he kicked it away. She dodged his next strike, reaching for the knife strapped to her thigh, but he kicked out at her and she was forced to draw her arms up to block it instead. They clashed for the next few moments, Clary narrowly avoiding his knife while she tried and failed to land a hit on the bastard. He was fast and clearly skilled at hand to hand combat. While she managed to hold her own, it was clear the man was steadily gaining the advantage.
He caught her across the ribs with his knife, but she drew away just enough to avoid most of the slash. The awkward shift put her off balance, and Clary felt herself tip sideways. Seeing this, the Shadowhunter swept her legs out from under her and she tumbled to the floor. He was on her in the next moment. His fist snapped out against her nose, making her eyes water and her head rock back into the tile. She was dizzy, barely even able to avoid his next punch as he settled a knee into her stomach so hard it forced the air from her lungs. She blinked up at him, her chest restricting with fear as he raised his knife up above them, aiming for her neck. She had time to suck in a panicked breath just before it began its deadly descent. She realized she was going to die just before the Shadowhunter froze above her, his fingers spasming until the blade clattered to the floor beside her head.
His eyes shot open wide, his veins standing stark and red against his skin, raising up along his face and down his neck. Veins weren't supposed to be red like that, she thought. He gagged and coughed blood into her face before he collapsed onto the side and gurgled out a scream. Clary stared at him in confused shock until her eyes lifted to the doorway in front of her. Kesi stood with an upraised hand, a tiny, evil smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. Her fingers tightened into a fist and the Shadowhunter spasmed again, then went limp and unconscious on the floor, blood oozing from his open mouth.
"Holy shit," Clary breathed. "What did you do to him?"
Kesi raised a dismissive shoulder. "Boiled his blood," she replied as if it were nothing to be impressed by. Clary let out a harsh laugh and took the hand that was offered to climb back to her feet.
"Awesome," she smirked and the warlock gave her a wink.
"Yes," she grinned, her pale eyes seeming to glimmer. "I am."
Clary rolled her eyes, bending to scoop up her sword. "Yeah, ok. Whatever."
Kesi laughed. "Saved your ass, didn't I?"
Clary scoffed. "I would have taken him."
Kesi gave her a knowing look, but didn't comment. Instead she peeked her head out of the door before them and into the hall. The sounds of fighting were steadily growing softer. Did that mean they were winning?
"Let's find Jonny boy and finish this shit," she grinned to Clary's arched look.
"He know you call him that?"
"Pfft," Kesi scoffed as they moved into the hall. "Do I look dead to you?"
Clary couldn't help the laugh that bubbled out of her as they hurried back into the fray.
XX
The Shadowhunter that faced Jonathan was really starting to get on his nerves. He'd fled into a back office when he watched the demon dispatch two of his comrades in less than a few seconds. Now he was putting everything he could between them, tossing random objects off the desk as if they would do any good.
"Seriously?" Jonathan sighed as he batted away a desk lamp and stepped closer. "Can you be more of a baby?"
"What is wrong with you, you demon shit?!" The Shadowhunter hissed back, jerkily drawing his sword. Jonathan had already sheathed his own. It was clear he wouldn't need it for this waste of a soldier. He must have been one of the greener recruits.
"You'll need to be more specific," Jonathan sighed, grabbing the edge of the desk and tossing it up across the far wall like it was made of plastic. The man visibly paled, his eyes going wide as he backed away from the slowly approaching demon.
"Why are you attacking us?" The Shadowhunter wheezed. He nearly tripped over himself as he fled to the other corner of the room. He was trying to get to the door, but he wasn't willing to turn his back on Jonathan to do it. That was probably the smartest move he'd made so far. The sword he held out between them trembled in his weak grip. It would take little more than a swat to send it clattering from his hand, but Jonathan didn't bother. This night had gone so much better than he anticipated, the surviving members of his father's army were already being gathered into rooms to be converted. Frankly at this point, Jonathan was just playing.
"Because I'm sick of Valentine's regime," he shrugged. The man kicked an office chair toward him, but Jonathan easily hopped onto it and stepped over in a fluid motion that made the man wilt. He knew he was going to die here. If he hadn't been such a weak little shit, Jonathan might have spared him for conversion, but he didn't need cockroaches in his army.
"I'm tired of following his orders, of killing downworlders because he's afraid of their power. It's a weakness I don't share."
"You...you're insane. You can't beat Valentine. No one can."
Jonathan made a show of looking around the trashed room and holding out his arms. "It seems to be going well so far. I like my chances."
The cockroach decided to attack then, probably sensing it was his last chance. He slashed out, and Jonathan didn't bother to avoid it. The sword cut across the front of his shirt, ripping a line of red across his chest that healed almost before it had time to bleed. The man's eyes went wide, his body freezing in shock.
"What are you?" He breathed and Jonathan felt a slow, wicked smile curling at his mouth.
"I'm the next step in evolution," he grinned, moving suddenly forward to grab the man's blade, heedless of the cuts to his fingers. In his panic, the Shadowhunter pitched forward, driving the sword into Jonathan's gut. Both of them froze, Jonathan from the pain of being impaled, and the cockroach in abject terror. His wide eyes moved from the sword buried to the hilt in Jonathan's stomach, then slowly raised to his face. For just a moment Jonathan wanted to give him a bloody grin and tug the thing out, but a sudden gasp drew his attention over the man's shoulder to the door.
Clary stood there, her eyes wide and glassy, her sword drawn. She stared at them in terror, her face pale and drawn at the sight of him impaled by a sword. It was hard to speak with a sword running through his body and blood bubbled up from his lips when he tried, but he managed to say her name. Clary pitched forward in the next moment, grabbing the man by the back of the head by his hair. Her short sword cut suddenly out through his chest, angled upwards as she drug him back away from her brother.
Jonathan was too shocked to comment, and frankly being impaled was much more painful than he'd anticipated. He staggered back, falling to his knees while Clary kicked the Shadowhunter to the floor and rushed to his side. She practically skidded to the floor beside him, grabbing the sword to pull it out in two rough jerks that were not at all pleasant and then her hands were pressing into the wound, her eyes full of tears.
She doesn't know, he remembered suddenly. She thinks I'm dying.
He tried to tell her he was ok, but more blood bubbled up from his throat. It seemed that mortal wounds took a little longer to heal.
"No no no no…" Clary was chatting, trying to put pressure on a wound that was slowly knitting itself back together. Tears ran down her face, her expression was a mask of pale horror and...heartbreak?
"No! Please no," she sobbed. "You can't die, you can't leave me. Oh fuck, Jonathan please...please!"
Her body slumped against his, like a puppet with its strings cut and she buried her head down against his shoulder, clutching at him with her trembling hands. It knocked him fully to the ground. Her entire body was shaking, and Jonathan was just left in shock. She was terrified that he might die, broken at the thought of it.
"Clary," he spoke gently, spitting out a mouthful of blood when she jerked up to look at him, her face a blotchy mess. "It's ok. I'm ok."
"But...how?" Her eyes went down to his shirt, wrenching it up with trembling hands to search for a wound that no longer existed. His blood smeared across her hands as she searched, but she didn't seem to care. He slowly shifted up into a sitting position, easing her hands away when it seemed she wouldn't stop searching. Clary let out a shaking breath and slumped against him again.
"I thought he killed you," she sobbed into his chest, gripping his bloodied leather jacket with white knuckled fists. Her sobs shook her entire body, rattling into him. For just a moment, Jonathan felt frozen. He knew that Clary cared for him in some way, but he never would have expected this reaction.
"I'm ok Clary," he repeated softly. Confusion made his voice hesitant. Clary let out a ragged breath, lifting her head to search his face. For a moment their eyes locked together. She looked at him like she was afraid he might disappear.
"How are you ok? He...he stabbed you!"
"I'm more durable than you realize." Jonathan smiled, reaching up to cup her face in his palm. To his surprise, she smacked it away and slapped him across the face. His smile melted into a frown of confusion.
"Ow…"
"Don't ever do that again," she breathed. "Don't you ever..." The words broke off in a sob and she slumped into him again.
Something strange tightened his chest. A whisper of warmth that made his heart thump hard against his ribcage. He didn't quite know what to make of the feeling, but it was oddly pleasant. To see her panic at the thought of his death, her heartbreak, was strangely heartening. It was one thing to hold her leash through deviance and sensuality, but this was something deeper. This was something he couldn't have expected, something close to love perhaps. Truthfully, he didn't really know how to process that. Did she love him? Was that possible?
Jonathan wrapped his arm around her back, dragging her into his lap to hold her close. He was still in a bit of shock, but she clearly needed the comfort. It seemed like a better option than sitting there and staring at her. Though her crying continued, it was growing weaker the longer she clung to him, her panic fading. She sniffed into his collar, her tears mixing with the blood that covered his skin. Blood from a man she had just killed to save him. Clary Morgenstern had just killed a man to protect his life. He wasn't sure if he should be shocked, turned on, or both.
He soothed her with a soft sound, stroking back her hair until the sobs diminished. He wasn't sure how long they sat there in a puddle of blood and broken furniture. He wondered idly if she even realized they were surrounded by death. Her focus seemed entirely on him. He had to admit, he enjoyed that more than he should.
"Sir," the voice that intruded on their privacy made Jonathan's eyes narrow and snap to the door across the room. Asher was leaning against the doorframe, supporting his weight against his forearm. The other arm hung limply at his side, sleeve torn up to the elbow, and blood dripping down from his fingertips onto the wooden floor. His gear was ripped and covered in blood. There was a gash across his forehead that coated his face in more blood, dripping down from his chin.
"What happened to you?" Jonathan asked with a soft laugh. "You look rough."
Asher gave him a smile, but it was clear he was fighting exhaustion and blood loss. His skin was sickly pale.
"Amatis Greymark is surprisingly spry for her age." He sounded honestly impressed. "She's going to make an excellent addition to the Shadowhunters you've gathered."
Jonathan raised an eyebrow. "She did all of that to you, and she's still alive?"
Asher laughed, but the sound cut off when he weazed. He managed to stay upright against the doorframe, but that was clearly a battle of will.
"She managed to do this, because I was trying not to kill her." He grinned with blood stained teeth. "I couldn't waste that kind of potential."
Jonathan grinned back, gently shifting Clary out of his lap to stand. He helped her up beside him, wrapping his arm around her when it became clear she wasn't ready to let him go. Her head remained buried in his shoulder, but that might have just been because she didn't want Asher to see her crying.
"I like the way you think," Jonathan said to the ex-Shadowhunter. "How would you feel about becoming one of my generals? I could use a sturdy man like yourself as we move forward."
Asher nodded. "I'm honored, Sir." He shifted slightly against the doorframe, grimacing as it caused him pain. "But at the moment, I think I'd mostly like to sit down."
Jonathan waved him off with a hand. "Just don't die on me."
To that Asher wheezed out a laugh. "I'll do my best."
"Go see Kesi. Tell her I want you back in fighting form. She'll come up with something."
"Yes sir," Asher nodded, pushing himself off the doorframe. "Not that I'm complaining, but it would be easier if our marks still worked. I could have healed myself already."
"Yes," Jonathan agreed, kissing the top of Clary's head when she shivered against him. "It's something I've been meaning to address with my mother."
"I'm sure you'll figure it out," Asher said as he turned to leave the room. "We'll start the conversion process soon. We're still gathering those left alive."
"Mina can oversee that. Get yourself sorted."
"Yes sir."
As he disappeared down the hall Jonathan turned his attention back on Clary. She was shivering against him, still clinging to his jacket. He smiled to himself at her need to touch him, and gently eased a hand beneath her chin to lift it. Her beautiful green eyes were red rimmed from crying when she looked up at him. He wiped away the tears from her cheeks and leaned down to kiss her forehead.
"Are you hurt?" He asked softly, searching her eyes. Clary nodded slightly, lifting her arm beside them. When he saw the torn sleeve and the blood running from it he made a soft sound at the back of his throat.
"Oh, baby, you're bleeding."
"Baby?" She sniffed, smiling through her tears. Jonathan returned it with a smirk.
"Honey?" He tried again to her wrinkled nose. "Sugarplum?" He pulled her close to kiss her cheek, trailing his lips to her ear to breathe softly into her hair.
"Hellcat." When she hummed in approval, he chuckled softly into her hair and nipped lightly at her neck. "My fiery, little Hellcat."
"What about you?" She asked with a soft giggle, clearly still trying to fight through her tears.
He gave her a bright smile, rubbing his thumb soothingly over her upper arm to test how deep the wound was. She only winced, so he reasoned it wasn't too bad.
"I'm fine. You don't have to worry about me."
She nodded, but he could see the doubt that still lingered in her eyes. She was so worried for him. He couldn't deny the pleasure of knowing how deeply she cared.
"You wanna get out of here?" He suggested, dipping his head to kiss the corner of her frowning mouth. "We can take a breath, relax. Would you like that?"
Clary nodded, resting her head back down against his shoulder. He didn't miss that her eyes shifted briefly to the dead man crumpled beside them.
"Get me out of here Jonathan. I want to get this over with so we can go home."
The simple request made his chest tighten with a strange pleasure. Home to her was at his side. That pleased him perhaps a little bit more than it should, but he was beginning to accept the odd way she affected him these days. He wrapped her in his arms with a smile, using the ring to transport them outside of the compound into the tree line just beyond.
She needed kindness and comfort after what she'd just done. He was almost sure it hadn't settled in yet, but it certainly would. Clary would not be able to shrug off a kill the way he did. She was much too soft hearted for that. Eventually what she had done would bubble back up and when it did, he would need to be there to comfort her. He would be the rock she clung to for stability.
If he was being honest, this had been an incredibly convenient turn of events. Clary was willing to kill for him. He'd mused over how to break her of the particularly weak trait of mercy many times before. How to ease her into it over time. Steadily strip away the taboo she saw in murder, the way he had with their intimacy. This was a big step in that direction and he hadn't even needed to orchestrate it.
Sometimes the universe just offers you gifts.
Jonathan had always known there was darkness in her heart, it existed in everyone. The trick was to coax it out, to finally get her to see the world through his eyes. He could have made her drink from the Infernal Cup for that, but he didn't want her to be like the others. He wanted her devotion to him to be real. He wanted her to rise to her potential, and become the thing he knew she could be.
The pair of them were more than human or Shadowhunter. They were destined for greater things than taking orders from a lunatic. They should be the ones giving orders, side by side, looking down on all the tiny things that existed on this pitiful planet. He had always known he was something special, something to be feared and respected. To have another by his side, someone like him, someone just as powerful, it was more than he had ever hoped for. The heart that beat in his chest was still technically human, but his was a lonely, empty thing. He wanted Clary to fill up that void. She made him feel. He wasn't always sure what he was feeling, but it was better than the emptiness he had known for most of his life. The absolute, mind numbing boredom. Clary was a flame in the darkness. A spark that caught his attention and never failed to keep it. He needed her. If he could keep her, and teach her to be everything he knew she could be, he would never be alone again. He would never be bored. Perhaps he might even find something he'd never thought to expect.
The only remaining step would be to get her away from her weak, sentimental friends, but that, he suspected, would be solved fairly soon. In fact, if his plan had worked, the solution would come charging from the forest any minute. For the moment, she needed him to make her feel something other than numbness and sorrow. He could certainly oblige.
Jonathan led her into the trees with a soft smile until they came across a fallen log. He sat back on the rough surface, tugging her in between his knees to wrap his arms around her and kiss her cheek. He could taste the salt from her tears and when she let out a soft contented sigh, he reached up to smooth her cheek with his thumb.
"Let's take a look at that arm," he said, gently peeling her leather jacket off her shoulders to lay it on the log beside him. Clary frowned at the gash in her arm as if it owed her money before he pulled the stele from his boot and traced a quick iratze into the skin. They both watched the wound knit itself closed beneath the smearing of blood and when it was finished, he kissed the place it had been. Feeling a little playful, he smirked up at her and drew his tongue over the blood. Clary tugged it away with a soft giggle, giving him a scowl that didn't quite hide the humor glittering in her bright, green eyes.
"You're gross." She said, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and leaning into him. She fit so well against him, he thought, for not the first time.
"You love it," he teased back, grinning up at her. Clary was smiling now too, until something dark passed over her expression and she glanced down between them. Her fingers ran down his chest to settle over the place he'd been skewered.
"How did you do that Jonathan?" She looked back up at him, searching his face. "How are you not dead?"
"Mother dearest gave me a little gift when we last spoke." He covered her hand with his own, lifting it to kiss the backs of her knuckles one by one. "She wanted to make sure I succeeded in taking down Valentine."
"She made you invulnerable?"
He nodded, grinning and placing her hand back on his shoulder so he could move his hands to her waist. She didn't protest as he lifted her up to straddle his lap, wrapping his arms around her lower back to keep her steady.
"So you can't die?" Clary reiterated softly. She was looking at him in awe, her fingers playing with the hair at the back of his head.
"Yes Clary," he chuckled. "That's what invulnerable means."
Rather than balk at his teasing, her eyes misted over, her brow pinching as she fought a new round of tears.
"So you won't leave me?"
He was quiet for a moment, shocked by the comment until he realized just what she was asking. Everyone she loved was dead or gone. Her mother was dead, Luke was off playing rebel protector with her idiot friends and clearly had no desire to see the supposed daughter he once loved. Her precious angel boy had died trying to protect her from Valentine in Alicante. She had lost everyone, and he had to wonder now if a part of her hesitation when first hearing of his plan to overthrow their father came from a fear that he would die too. That she would be left utterly alone. Jonathan met her eyes, lifting a hand to cup her cheek.
"No Clary," he said softly, firmly. "I will never leave you."
A tear slipped down her cheek a moment before she lurched forward to kiss him, nearly sending them off the log. He chuckled into her mouth, steadying them against the log as she practically wrapped herself around him and kissed a frenzied path over his face and neck. When she nipped at the hollow behind his ear, he shivered and sucked in a soft breath.
"I want you," she whispered, nipping at the side of his throat while her hand shifted to run up beneath his shirt. "I need you inside me. Now Jonathan."
His breath hitched when she dragged her sharp, little nails down along his abdomen, pulling back to kiss him hungrily. Somewhere off in the trees he heard a twig snap, too far for Clary to notice. Not that she would while she was busy trying to remove his leather jacket. A part of him was irritated by the soon to be interruption, but the logical part of him knew it was for the best. He ignored the intruders for the moment. In the long run, it was better this way. They needed to see her like this, the way Alec had seen them in the antique shop. She needed to know how they would react.
"Right here?" He asked against her lips with a wicked smile, running his hands up along her spine. Clary hummed a soft affirmation, shifting to roll her hips against his own, pressing down into his lap. The footsteps in the trees slowed, fanning out around them in a half circle, but still out of sight. They were within earshot now.
"Are you remembering our last bit of fun in the woods, Hellcat?"
Clary hummed again, leaning back to peel her bloodied shirt off in one pull. He smiled at the smooth expanse of her skin, the dark swirling marks that covered it, the rounded swells of her breasts beneath her lacey, green bra. God she was beautiful. Again he found himself hating the lurking observers in the trees. Why couldn't they have given him at least ten minutes?
"I need you," Clary said, rolling her hips against him again. He realized the next several minutes were going to be incredibly awkward with a hard on, but he pushed the thought aside to kiss her instead.
"What do you need, Clary?" He murmured the question against her lips, making sure his voice was loud enough for the others to hear. He wanted her to say it.
"I need you to fuck me," she replied, trying again to push his jacket from his shoulders.
"Alright, that is quite enough of that."
The voice made Clary freeze in his lap, her eyes shooting wide before her face drained of color and she stared at the speaker over his shoulder.
"Magnus?" Her voice came out as a soft squeak.
Jonathan let out a slow sigh, standing and setting Clary on her feet in front of him. He scooped up her shirt along the way, passing it over so she could scramble to pull it back on. Running a hand back through his hair, Jonathan turned to face the others. He was a little surprised to find Alec and Isabelle beside the cat eyed warlock. He honestly wasn't sure they all would show, but clearly his bait was too good to pass up. Again, he reasoned, it was better this way.
Isabelle was watching Clary like she couldn't quite decide if she was real. Alec had his bow notched with an arrow, pointed unsurprisingly at Jonathan. Magnus seemed to be the only one not completely freaked out by the scene they had stumbled upon, though his brow was pinched in something that could have been sorrow.
"Oh biscuit," the warlock sighed. "What has happened to you?"
Clary didn't seem capable of words. She was frozen at Jonathan's side and the trembling was back. He reached out to squeeze her shoulder, but it was more for their benefit than for comfort. He knew he couldn't have comforted her now if he tried. It wasn't the point of this anyway.
"I told you it was a trap," Alec growled, his eyes briefly narrowing on Clary before they returned to Jonathan, the true object of his hatred.
"Alexander," Magnus chided softly. "Let's not be hasty. Though...yes, this does seem to be a bit of an awkward situation."
Isabelle, ever the optimist, took a tentative step forward. "Clary, we got your note. We came to get you, just like I promised but…"
"My note?" The red head murmured, her voice shaking. "I don't understand."
Jonathan held up a hand to gain their attention. "Yeah, that was a bit of a fib on my part. I knew you wouldn't show if you thought I was the one asking."
"You what?" Clary turned to him, confusion and the beginnings of betrayal clear in her bright eyes. He shrugged, sweeping an arm out toward her gaggle of friends and the dozen other rebels scattered around them in the trees.
"You wanted them to be safe, didn't you?" He asked calmly, despite her narrowing eyes. "I figured it was time to bring them in on the plan. After all…" He turned a smirk on Alec. "The enemy of my enemy is my friend. Isn't that how the saying goes?"
Magnus let out a soft chuckle, tilting his head. "I believe in this case, the enemy of your enemy is still your enemy, but that's just too much of a mouthful. It's not quite as catchy."
"What. Did. You. Do?" Clary growled at him but Jonathan held up his hands to placate her.
"Just a little white lie," he insisted. "I sent a note that might have implied you wanted them to rescue you from evil ol' me, aaaand gave a few key bits of info on our little raid tonight. Though I left out the part where we were taking Valentine's men for our own. That seemed more like a face to face sort of conversation to have."
"How did you even…" Clary shook her head, clearly still a little too shocked to wrap her mind around it all.
"Well that part was actually pretty easy." Jonathan shrugged a shoulder and glanced at the scowling Isabelle. "When sweet Izzy came to stay with our father we took her special little demon sensing necklace. You know how father loves his magic bobbles. I snatched it before I went out to find you. A few nights ago, Kesi wrapped my note around it and spelled it to return to its owner. Frankly you should be thanking me for that part. If I hadn't taken it, Valentine would have used it to track you all down months ago. So, you know...you're welcome."
"Clary," Isabelle was glaring at him. "Get away from him."
As she held out her hand Jonathan couldn't help the sharp look that passed over his face before he hid it with a smile. Even after what she had just heard, she was still determined to save Clary from him. Clearly she was going to be the biggest problem. He filed that away for later and took a subtle step between them.
"Now now," he grinned, taking a quick count of the rebels surrounding them and the weapons currently trained on his person. They wouldn't do much good, but it didn't hurt to be aware. "Before this devolves into a nasty situation, I think it's time we all had a nice chat."
"What could we possibly have to talk about?" Alec snapped.
Jonathan met his eyes and gave his most charming smile. "Good that you asked. Clary and I have decided it's time to kill our father."
To their utter silence, he couldn't help but chuckle. He had known they wouldn't be easy to convince. Honestly he was hoping they outright refused, so this whole process would go a bit more smoothly.
"So...who here wants to kill the big bad king?"