Chapter 30: A bit of a time jump. Jonathan has gotten to Clary and Jace is finally figuring things out.
I do not own any of the characters, only the illustrious Cassandra Clare owns them. I do, however, own this particular story, so please don't be lame and copy/paste it elsewhere.
Thank you for the follows, likes, and reviews! It really means a lot!
Previously: "He followed her eyes to the fireplace, where a very particular painting had hung nearly his entire life. Now I know why Father wanted the paintings presented here instead of the more spacious ballroom. He wanted her to see…us. The family Jocelyn left…Thank you, Father."
Clary walked into the empty gym, over to the treadmills, just as she had for the past seven days, since arriving at Morgenstern Manor. She liked to arrive early, before Jonathan, to run a few miles to clear her head. Alone. She leaned down, stretching the backs of her legs and securing her shoestrings. She pulled her hair up into a high ponytail. Today was the first day she awoke and didn't instantly think of Jace. She felt a confusing stab of guilt in her gut as she began her run. Stop it. It's over. Move on.
Clary shifted her thoughts to her work over the past week. She had been quite impressed and overwhelmed with the scope of her mother's work that Valentine possessed. There really wasn't much work for her to do, as most of the pieces had already been cataloged with great detail. She'd merely had to organize the pieces chronologically and read over the accompanying provenance. She'd had to make a few adjustments to the newer pieces that Clary witnessed her mother creating. The real work, she supposed, would be when she finally got to meet with Amatis and plan the Gallery opening and gala. They had been texting a bit, when she was able to get cell service. It had been quite spotty during the snow storms. Clary had been able to text Simon and Izzy about the weather situation and let them know she was okay, but that was about it.
The blizzard had finally let up a few days ago and Valentine told her that main roads would be passable by the end of the week, as the manor was quite isolated. Jonathan had certainly kept her occupied, when she wasn't working. They read together, discussed and argued plots, watched movies, worked out… flirted. She knew he wanted her and was considering allowing it. Nothing serious, as she had just come out of a heavy relationship. She would think about it. He had been wonderful to her. She had even been able to draw again, with his encouragement, although she hadn't told Jonathan yet. Perhaps today. She wanted to thank him for helping her…heal.
Clary increased the speed on the treadmill, finally breaking a sweat and whipped off her sweatshirt, tossing it aside. Underneath she wore a red sports bra that coordinated with her black and red yoga leggings. It showed more skin than she usually preferred, and was skin tight, but comfortable. Her bruises and scratches were nearly gone, so she decided to wear it. Thank god. Her looser clothing made it easier for Jonathan to get the upper hand when sparring and she wanted to change that. He had been helping her hone her self-defense moves. She had a feeling he was going easier on her than he should, allowing her to pin him, and whatnot. But it was helping. She was starting to feel more confident and less vulnerable.
Her mind wandered back to the art in the State Room. There was a particular painting she had been pleased to see again. Clary smiled remembering her mother behind her, asking her to stay still, as she snapped several pictures from different angles. The pictures her mother took of her, gazing at the reflection in the pond at their farmhouse in upstate New York, would eventually become "Her Eyes".
Clary had just stepped down from a small ladder, when further into the room, a flash of red, in a familiar blue and green setting caught her attention. Clary had smiled, her eyes filling with tears as she approached the painting. She remembered that day well. It was a weekend trip they had taken the summer before she started her senior year of high school. It had been a very hot day. She and her mom had been lounging in the yard, sketching together under umbrellas, and sipping sun tea. Her dad had gone to town to pick up food to grill. Clary had gotten up and walked down to a small pond to dip her feet. While there, she sat on her knees and leaned over the water to dip her hand, when her mother had approached her to take the pictures.
Jonathan's deep voice broke her from her memory. "This is one of Father's favorites. Tell me, Clarissa. Settle a disagreement between us. That's you, is it not? He seems to think it's Jocelyn." He had stepped close to her, their arms brushing, but her eyes remained on the painting. Clary smiled and took a deep breath. "Actually Jon. You're both right. The girl looking in the pond is me…the girl in the reflection is my mother. If you look closely, you'll see the eyes in the reflection are a bit darker, like my mom's. You see, she wanted to capture a young woman on the cusp of her future, me, looking at an image of what is inside of her…or who...my mom. The reflection represents a mother's love and her influence on who the girl may become." Jonathan hummed and put his hand on the small of Clary's back and she leaned against him, as they both contemplated the painting.
Clary had jumped when Valentine's rich voice broke through her reverie. She hadn't realized he was behind her. "That is precisely why I wanted you here, Clarissa. Thank you so much for clarifying the story and feeling, behind this beautiful painting." Clary had pulled away from Jonathan and turned to Valentine, who had walked up to stand on her other side. "It would please me so much, Clarissa. If you would accept this painting, as a gift to you. You must miss her so much, my dear." Clary had been shocked, to say the least, and tried to decline, but Valentine had insisted and called staff to mount the painting in her room above her fireplace. She had finally acquiesced, on the condition that it be used in the gallery opening.
Clary stepped off of the treadmill, out of breath. She had run three miles and was quite sweaty. She opened her water bottle and drank deeply, wiping her face, neck, and cleavage with a towel. Finally cooling down, she walked over to the matts that ran along a wall of mirrors. There, she took off her running shoes and began her yoga stretches, starting with Adho Mukha Shvanasana. She closed her eyes and continued her routine, as she did every morning after her run. She wondered where Jonathan was. He was late for their sparring session. She continued her poses and meditations.
Jonathan had walked in, just in time to see Clarissa in the Uttana Shishosana pose…his personal favorite. She was on her knees, gorgeous ass in the air, back deeply arched, her head and full breasts flattened against the floor, with her arms reaching forward, past her head. So flexible. It was like having a waking wet dream. Jonathan shook his head and swallowed, feeling his dick get hard. Glad I wore my baggy sweats…god she's so fucking sexy. Jonathan leaned against the wall, watching her every stretch, hearing her deep breaths and small relaxed moans. I have to fuck her soon before I lose control. Clary sat up, facing him, and pulled her legs into the lotus position, her eyes remaining closed. She raised her arms high in the air and tipped her head back, exhaling slowly, as she lowered her arms. Jonathan couldn't tear his eyes from her round breasts, as they rose and fell with her breathing.
Clary quickly cleared her throat and Jonathan jumped, snapping his gaze up to her amused green eyes. "Enjoying the show, Jon? I guess I should start working out in a snowsuit, huh?". Shit. She makes me feel like a hormonal teenager. She laughed and stood up, wiping her face and chest with her towel.
Jonathan smirked and sauntered over to her, handing her a fresh water. "Don't you dare, Clarissa. An independent, beautiful woman, such as yourself, should feel free to show as much of her body as she chooses… you'll certainly get no argument from me, love." He looked her up and down, bouncing his eyebrows. "You're welcome to show more, in fact." Yes, please.
Clary rolled her eyes and scoffed teasingly. "Jon, are you flirting with me?" She turned to look at her reflection in the mirror, taking her hair down from the ponytail. Jonathan watched her thick crimson curls fall down her back, then as she scooped all of the hair on top of her head into a messy bun. He stepped up behind her and wrapped his arms around her tiny waist, pulling her against him. She gasped.
Leaning down he grazed her ear with his lips and found her emerald eyes staring at him curiously in the mirror. "Yes, Clarissa. I certainly am flirting with you… and I believe you like it." He murmured into her ear, tightening his arms around her waist. Clary shivered against him and Jonathan watched with satisfaction as a blush slowly crept up her abdomen, to her chest, and settled on her face. "Tell me Clarissa, would you like to... go on a date with me tonight?"
Clary looked back at him in the mirror, a small smile forming on her beautiful face. Jonathan felt an excited thrill coil in his gut. Say yes… She slowly disentangled herself from his arms, stepped away, and turned to face him, laughing nervously. "Jonathan, we still can't leave the manor for another few days, what kind of date could you possibly mean?" Jonathan licked his lips and stepped closer to her, nudging her back against the wall looking down at her. Slowly… He slid his hands down her shoulders to her wrists, holding them loosely, he lifted them and pinned them against the wall on either side of her head. He saw Clarissa's thighs clench together as she swallowed, looking up at him through her lashes. She likes to be dominated…good to know.
Clary flicked her eyes to her pinned wrists, then back to Jonathan, a strange look on her face. Jonathan leaned forward and murmured in her ear. "What's the use of having this sprawling manor, if I can't properly entertain a beautiful woman? Leave the details up to me, love. I want you to wear the emeralds you wore on New Year's Eve and a pretty dress, just as if we were going out in New York… say yes, Clarissa. Please." Clary took a deep breath, then dropped suddenly, whipping her head around Jonathan's left arm. Shit!
She quickly raised her right elbow, slamming it into the bend of his left arm, breaking his grip on her wrist. She then swiped her right leg against the back of his knees, knocking him down. As he fell, he released the grip on her other wrist to break his fall. Grabbing his left arm and pulling it behind him, she straddled his back, pinning him face down on the mat. Jonathan groaned at the feel of her thighs around him, turned his head to see their reflection in the mirror, panting with excitement. So fucking hot. Clary leaned down close to his ear and whispered softly, her breath tickling him. "Pick me up at six... and wear all black." She released him, standing up. Laughing jovially, she held a hand out to him, with a triumphant smile. He took her hand and stood up and high-fived her. She had already improved so much with her self-defense moves. Adorable little badass. "Six it is, then. It's a date, love."
Jace and Alec sat quietly in a waiting room, outside of an office, reading over their notes on the drugging case, as well as Clary's assault. Alec looked over at Jace nervously. "Do you really think this is a good idea, man? I mean–" Jace cut him off with a stern look.
Jace sighed heavily and rubbed his temples. "I don't think we have any other recourse, Alec. Not after what we found in the videos. How could I have missed that? We have to get the DNA analyzed on Verlac versus the mask. If our hunch is right and that dead guy is not Sebastian, then we've been set up to think he's out of the way. That means Clary is not safe, that he's still out there…after her." And she's across the ocean, where I can't protect her. "Starkweather has been a fucking hindrance to anything we've tried to do involving Verlac or Clary. I think she was right about him being owned by someone. That someone may be Sebastian himself, if that DNA doesn't match." Jace wiped his hand over his face, remembering how much they had discovered watching the videos at Pandemonium, earlier that week.
Jace and Alec had gone to Pandemonium to rewatch all the security videos from the night of his drugging. Izzy and Simon were there as well. It had taken hours before Jace had finally noticed something off…or rather, someone. Right after Clary introduced Carrie and her other friend to everyone in the VIP lounge, Carrie rolled up on Jonathan and seemed to flirt shamelessly. Jonathan reciprocated a bit, whispering in her ear, making her laugh. Then everyone except Carrie left the lounge to go dance. Jace watched about a minute more, then rewound and paused the video. His heart racing, he called Alec and Simon over, resuming the video. "Watch this weirdness, Lewis. Does the fucker that comes in to see Carrie look familiar to you?"
Simon furrowed his brows and watched the video as a very large goon walked into the VIP room. He had dark hair and a blinding white smile and walked up to Carrie, kissing her and roughly grabbing her hips and ass. He reached into his front pocket and slid what looked like a very small bottle into the front of her dress, while she rubbed his crotch. Had to be the drug she slipped in my beer. They both left the lounge separately. Jace had found more footage of the bodyguard. He had left the club with Carrie after the incident in the private lounge, when Clary had walked in on her and Jace. Carrie and the goon were all over each other.
Simon shot out of his seat. "Shit Jace! That is the fucker from Halloween that hit you with that stool…that I jumped on. That is definitely him…Crest Whitestrip Bitch! He tried to help that fucking Sebastard take Clary." Simon's eyes got huge. "Dudes, that Carrie bitch has red hair like Clary… maybe she's one of Sebastian's fake-Clary's too. She's even an art student, for fuck's sake! That fucking sicko." Jace stared hard at Simon and nodded. He hadn't even considered the resemblance between Carrie and Clary as a possible clue. Great job, Lewis. Smart fucker. Alec had looked at Jace and Simon, his eyes wide. "So, if Sebastian's bodyguard is having a redhead drug Jace, just like Clary was drugged on Halloween by a red headed waitress, we can suspect that Sebastian may not be dead. It can't be a coincidence. We need that DNA analyzed. I smell so much bullshit."
Jace and Alec quickly stood up when a tall, dark-haired woman, with piercing blue eyes stepped off of the elevator. She was tall and thin, with her black hair pulled up into a tight bun. She wore a sharp bright blue pantsuit and very high heels. She narrowed her eyes at the young detectives sitting in her waiting room and pursed her lips. "Okay, boys. I can see you now." She turned and walked into her office after summoning them with her manicured hand.
Jace quickly followed her into the office, with Alec slowly coming in after, closing the door behind him. They both sat in the chairs in front of her desk. She sat back, her eyes flicking between the two detectives, her eyebrows raised expectantly. Jace looked at Alec and nodded for him to talk. Alec cleared his throat. "Thank you for seeing us so quickly, Commissioner Trueblood. We have much to share regarding the irregularities we sent you in the reports–"
Alec stopped speaking when the police Commissioner closed her eyes and sighed, exasperated, cutting him off. "Alec, really. The door is closed. Can you call me mom, please. And you, Jace, call me Maryse. It will save so much oxygen." Jace smiled and Alec simply nodded. Maryse was Alec and Izzy's mom, an asskicker of a policewoman and even better police commissioner. Professionally she used her maiden name, Trueblood, but she was Maryse Lightwood and like a second mother to Jace.
She smiled sweetly at her boys. "Okay, I won't torture you anymore. I read over your reports last night and shared them with your dad. We both completely agree with your assessments and give you our full support. In fact, I just got back from a nice little meeting with former Interim Chief of Detectives Hodge Starkweather. I've actually had Internal Affairs investigating him, on the downlow, since he closed the Fray-Garroway case. Crooked motherfu– anyway, Detective Lightwood…er your dad has been pulled out of retirement as acting Chief of Detectives, until a permanent one can be found. Starkweather has been put on administrative leave pending full investigation of these irregularities." Jace and Alec stared at her, open mouthed, nodding.
She leaned forward and pushed their chins up. "Close your mouths boys. I'm not done. The kicker with Starkweather was his refusal to run the DNA analysis on the mask versus Verlac, for no valid reason. So, he's out, and under investigation. I still have no idea how such a piece of shit hack, like Hodge Starkweather, got Luke Garroway's job. He was a good cop. One of the best. He'd be very proud of you boys."
Jace and Alec looked at each other solemnly. Jace cleared his throat and looked at Maryse. "Thank you so much, Maryse. When can we process the DNA? Do I talk to Robert, uh Chief Lightwood?"
Maryse rifled through a folder on her desk and handed a packet to Jace. "Oh yeah, about that. Robert already ordered the DNA analysis to be performed today. Results pending later this week. Here is a copy of the order. Now, I have to get to a meeting with Mayor Penhallow. Here's what I need from you both. Find that little bitch that drugged Jace and that bodyguard and fucking book them. You both are really onto something here, I know it. Solve these cases and make mama proud." Jace and Alec both stood as she rounded the desk and hugged them both, then shooed them from her office.
Jace and Alec got on the elevator to return to their floor. When the doors closed they looked at each other and high-fived, then hugged. Jace laughed and wiped his face with his hand. "Dude, I never knew your mom had such a potty mouth." Alec looked back at him and laughed. "Neither did I, man. That was surreal… Damn Jace. We're going to fucking solve these cases, I know it." Jace nodded at his partner as the elevator doors opened and they walked to their desks. Now to find Carrie and that bodyguard asshole.
