Amatis continued asking Luke questions, but she and Magnus could both tell when he left, so to speak. It was more than just the lack of response to questions. There was a shift in the wolf's body language, a shift in the air.
Simon was joyous the next day, and he too was able to get some questions in, before Luke lost control, or whatever was happening; hard to say. However Magnus was hopeful and even more so at the thought of Jocelyn's return. She and Clarissa had been gone over three weeks now. His most up to date intel, via their last contact, was Jocelyn should be back any day now.
But before that, demons came to town.
"Finally!" Clary shouted in relief, landing back in New York City.
"Thank you for trusting me on this trip. I know it's been hard, but I must say I've had a wonderful time with you," Jocelyn said, looking to her daughter with love in her eyes.
"Yeah, me too. I feel like I know you so much better, Mom."
"I'm glad. But you're right, it's nice to be back."
"Father, I've changed my mind. I would like to meet Mother," Jonathan Morgenstern airily declared, confident and rising to his full height, ice white hair glowing even in the dim light, grinning eyes black as midnight.
"May I ask what changed?" Valentine looked up at his son from the book he was reading, the two of them temporarily lodging in an abandoned house, out in the countryside.
"What is the saying? 'Blood calls to blood?' I want to see Mother for myself, and Clarissa."
"I will send a message asking for a meeting."
"Are they really so weak they cannot handle seeing me without such forewarning? I am glad you never handled me with such kid gloves, Father. Your former parabatai was alright, was he not?"
"We have been over this, Jonathan."
"I know, but I confess I do not understand. I propose a negotiation. I will let you set up the meeting as you see fit, if you will allow me to follow you to New York. You know I always keep my word to you."
Valentine considered, then: "I accept. Pack your things and let me examine your wound before we leave." Jonathan nodded, headed to his bedroom, then turned back. "One more point, Father."
"And that would be?"
"I disapprove of Mother naming my sister Clarissa. I wanted you to know that in advance of the meeting,"
"We are in agreement then."
"Good. I prefer us to be on the same page," Jonathan smiled.
Jocelyn and Clary stepped out of their taxi, in front of their brownstone. "The smell of home! And I'm so close to my phone! I'm going to call Simon right when we get in there."
It was late. The streets quiet, overhead lights illuminating the road and sidewalks, along with the houselights shining on front steps. The cab drove away and Jocelyn paused outside, taking in the sight of home, when she saw a sudden movement. There was also a smell in the air, one she had not encountered in a long time: sulphur – demon. She carried her favorite dagger, and drew it now.
"Whoa! Mom–!?" Before she could finish, Jocelyn swung at the demon who leapt forward to attack. It was small, somewhat human in appearance but hunched over, walking on all fours, with mottled blue skin. She revealed her stele, activating runes for strength and night vision.
"Get inside, Clary. I'll explain later," Jocelyn commanded, her voice calm.
"Look, Mom!" More figures, demons, had come forward and were surrounding them, blocking Clary's path to the door.
"Stay close to me." Jocelyn assessed their numbers, what type they appeared to be.
"Just when I thought I knew you, just when I thought things were going back to normal," moaned Clary, weak with distress, but then a demon dropped dead, a knife thrown in its back. "It's been a long time, Jocelyn," said a female voice, belonging to a lithe deadly figure she recognized, then stepping into the light along with a bear of a man by her side, solid as a stone, as he'd always been. "To think we've been so close together and we didn't even know it." Their presence caused the remaining demons to flee.
Seeing them invoked a whole range of feelings: fondness, guilt and sadness, but Jocelyn focused on the task at hand, knowing Maryse and Robert would do the same, "What are we dealing with?"
"Low level demons of some sort," answered Robert, "we've been tracking them since we found a kill they made this morning."
"Though with that retreat, I now suspect they are under the command of a more powerful demon," added Maryse.
"They seemed drawn to you and your daughter specifically. Have you noticed any other demonic activity?" Robert asked.
"No, we have been out of town for weeks. We just got back, but first, Clary you need to get inside the house. It is warded from demons." They all then experienced a strong disturbance, a deep reverberation. She first thought earthquake, but the ground wasn't shaking.
"There goes the warding," Maryse summarized succinctly.
"We're definitely dealing with a clever one," sighed Robert.
Jocelyn was momentarily amused at their ability to continue each other's thoughts. How was it they had been apart so long, yet were instantly recognizable?
"Could Clary go to the Institute?" she asked.
"Yes, but it's far from here. I don't know if whoever this is would let you get there easily," Maryse speculated.
"I vote we follow the demons while we have the trail. Do you have a seraph blade, Jocelyn?" asked Robert.
"I do." Jocelyn turned to her daughter, who had quietly watched this exchange. "Clary, these are friends of mine, Maryse and Robert Lightwood. Demons are real. I've hid so much from you, and I swear I will tell you everything after this, but I need you to follow us now."
"Okay, but I want a weapon too. Can I have that dagger?" Clary requested, sensing this was not the time nor place to argue, and Jocelyn kissed the hilt of it, saying a quick prayer it serve Clary well, then handed it over. She armed herself with her seraph blade, she and Clary stashed their luggage inside, then she turned to Maryse and Robert. "Let's go."
The four tracked the smell of sulphur till it was overpowering, at an empty in the night construction site a few blocks away, and upon closer inspection, there were many of the demons scurrying around: in the unfinished framework of what looked to be a multistory office building, amongst plates of glass and bags of plaster, wheelbarrows and ladders. Robert notched an arrow, Maryse took daggers in each hand, while Jocelyn named her seraph blade and stayed close to Clary, whom as Robert noted earlier, the demons were decidedly fixated upon, and Maryse and Robert formed a semicircle around them to assist.
During a lull, when no further skittering could be heard, when nothing caught their eyes and nothing lunged forward, there appeared an intricate symbol in electric blue, in the harsh angles of the demon alphabet, on the ground beneath their feet. At the epicenter, with visible energy cracking in the air – different, quicker, more human-like bodies emerged, one after the other, how many it was difficult to say, as Jocelyn was distracted from the moment they charged, standing on two legs with two arms and the same mottled blue skin as before, causing Robert and Maryse to switch to seraph blades as well.
In the scuffle, no one noticed another combatant enter the fray, until his voice rang out, cold and condescending, catching all's attention: "I thought I had taken care of you lot, but apparently I was sloppy." And there, silhouetted against the city lights, holding a knife to the throat of one of the demons, was a young man whom Jocelyn immediately fixated upon. That pale hair, the way he held himself, all so reminiscent of Valentine, yet it was that menacing aura, that shadow of darkness, she recognized most of all.
"You did take care of that group, as you so casually put it. We are here for revenge. You killed our family," another voice called to him first, strange and distorted.
"Is that so? How quaint," replied the young man.
"We know your kin. We will kill them just as you did ours." The proof, so it seemed, of what she had instinctively known, it had to be him, her son, who now slit the throat of the demon he'd been holding, letting it fall to the ground then stabbing it in the chest. "Well, I have just killed another member of your family. What are you going to do about it?"
This enraged the remaining demons, and the ensuing battle was fierce but brief, with the Shadowhunters emerging victorious. While everyone was catching their breath, Jocelyn asked the terrible question, "Jonathan, is that you?"
Everyone's attention narrowed. He regarded her, just as cold and condescending as he did the demons, and replied unfailingly, chillingly polite, "Yes, Mother; greetings, Sister. And you two are Maryse and Robert Lightwood, but I am afraid we will have to save our conversing for later. Something about this battle, it was too easy."
"Agreed," said Robert.
"I think we're about to find out why." Clary pointed once again to the symbol, the growing cloud of energy hovering over it even more blazing than before, and out of that mass emerged two and only two figures, the cloud disappearing once they stepped out. They were large, standing a story tall, and had crisper, more distinct voices.
"Sometimes, sacrifices must be made to achieve one's goals," said the first.
"You all will die here tonight," said the second, then seemingly flew to where Jonathan was standing, the other aiming for Clary. Maryse moved to assist Jocelyn, while Robert ran to Jonathan.
These demons were skilled, and all Nephilim present were growing weary. Robert made what would have been a fatal miscalculation attempting to dodge a blow if someone else wielding a broadsword had not beheaded the demon from behind. "Father, you've upstaged my entrance," joked Jonathan, distinctly pleased to announce his presence.
"Let's call a truce, Valentine. Until we kill these," Robert huffed, staring down at the body, which had not disappeared.
"Agreed," Valentine concurred, as the body began to grew a new head. "We have to kill both of these at the same time. That will end their regeneration spell. Notice the other is faltering, and the symbol is glowing brighter."
"Do you hear that Maryse, Jocelyn? We need to kill these simultaneously!" Robert called out.
"Affirmative!" Maryse called back, ducking an attack. Jocelyn and she fought well together, reverting to their old rhythm, having sparred often in Idris, keeping the demon away from Clary, but they were slowing. As Jocelyn heaved her seraph blade, cutting an arm clean off, a chain materialized around its legs, burning its skin, and with a great tug, the demon lost its balance, crashing to the ground.
"What an absurd reunion this is," observed another voice Jocelyn had not heard in years, connecting it to her last known weapon of choice, and turned to see Amatis holding strong to her end of chain, Maryse cutting off the other arm for good measure, then calling out to the men, "You three! Get yours restrained!"
Jocelyn beheaded their demon one more time, but the other was proving difficult to detain, getting a good swipe at Jonathan, who stepped out of range, then their own demon's regenerating arm was shifting, lengthening. She moved to stop it but could not move fast enough, and seeing where it was heading, warned, "Jonathan, behind you!"
She saw it all in slow motion: her daughter clutching the dagger she did not know how to wield, pale and clearly in shock; her once husband, in mid-parry, turning to see what was the danger, yet unable to do anything; her son, with the face of an angel and the eyes of a demon, smirk slipping as he realized in his overconfidence, he had made an error. Then all eyes went not to the arm, but to the air, to locate who shot the arrow that now pierced the demon's arm down: A man overhead, on one of the upper floors, who then leapt off it, morphed in midair, then landed heavily as a beast with fangs and claws and glowing golden eyes amongst the Shadowhunters, and made good use of those fangs by biting into that arm, swinging its massive head from side to side until the arm ripped off the body. With that distraction, Valentine and Robert were able to knock their demon down, Robert then made eye contact with Maryse, and they in unison stabbed their respective captives in the heart.
The demons' bodies lay truly still, the symbol's glow faded and then their bodies burned, returning to the dimension from whence they came.
"Well, I guess you all took care of that," lilted Magnus Bane in a long rippling cape strolling towards them. "How about we all go back to my place, sort this out? I have drinks."