City of the Fallen

DISCLAIMER: I do not own the Mortal Instruments or the Infernal Devices.

Summary: When Clary Morgenstern and her brother, Jonathan, are forced to transfer to the esteemed Idris High School in Britain, they are less than pleased. But there's a strange group going on in Idris High School—the Shadowhunters. The Shadowhunters aren't just a group of "bad kids"—they turn out to be more dangerous and seductive than Clary ever expected. When Jonathan become a Shadowhunter and gets sucked into the group, will Clary follow his lead into the world of partying, drugs, and crime?

I have this rated T for now, but it might turn to M (not for sex, but for things like partying, alcohol, drugs, and mental illnesses).

This fanfic is a little darker, but definitely has humor. So if partying, alcohol, drugs, and mental illness are triggers to you, don't read or be prepared.

Chapter One: Idris High School

All the world's a stage

And all the men and women merely players.

-William Shakespeare, As You Like It

I woke up with a groan. First day of school, check. The lovely time of six-thirty in the morning? Check. Did I already feel like murdering someone? Triple check. Preferably my obnoxious older brother, Jonathan Morgenstern, who happened to be violently shaking me awake while yelling something.

"Clarissa! Wake up already!" Jonathan shouted. Right in my ear, might I add.

I wanted to bury my head under my pillow. No, scratch that—I wanted to throw it at him.

I rolled over, sat up, and felt my head collide with something. "I'm awake, Jon! Jesus."

Jon was rubbing his forehead indignantly. "Ouch! What the hell, Clary?"

"Serves you right," I muttered blackly. "What time does this bloody school start? Do all schools in Britain start this early?"

Jon looked like he was fighting back a laugh. "Seven-thirty. So get your butt downstairs in fifteen, or your ride is leaving without you."

"Fine," I growled. "Now get out of my room. And get my some coffee—black, just like my soul."

"What a charmer," I heard him mumble as he stalked out of my room.

Seven-thirty. My old school, St. Xavier's, started at a fairly reasonable time. But when Valentine, my ridiculous father, decided that we were moving to Britain as a family so Jonathan and I could get a "proper" education and so he could meet up with the old family friends, the Lightwoods, Jon and I had to transfer to probably the snobbiest high school in Britain, of course: Idris High School. But it was supposedly good. Oooooh. St. Xavier's was good too, though! Now in addition to the disgusting stress of a new school, I had to leave my best friend, Simon, back in New York. Depressing. I'd just woken up, but I could already tell that this was going to be a very, very bad day.

I finished getting dressed, throwing on whatever my fingers touched first, and ran a brush through my untamable curly red hair. I wasn't the only redhead in my family—my mother, Jocelyn, was too—but unlike me, she was actually pretty. Whereas I was short, with freckles everywhere, and obtrusively bright hair. You wouldn't believe the number of times I've heard, "Do you dye your hair?" Ugh. Oh, yeah, I totally dye it to achieve the desired effect of looking like a cartoon character. Nope.

I hoped like hell that Jon had coffee ready downstairs, or it was going to be a long day.

"She awakens," Jon said sarcastically, and shoved a cup of black coffee across the counter to me.

I downed half of it in a matter of seconds before I thought about replying to that. "Where's Dad? And Mom?"

Jonathan rolled his eyes. "Valentine is out at a business meeting. He left this." Jon waved a plain sticky note in the air. "He says to have a 'wonderful' day. And to make proper friends. Mom is at some kind of art class or something."

"Whatever." I finished the rest of my coffee and placed the cup in the sink. "When are we leaving?"

Jonathan shot a glance at the clock. "Now. We have to get there early to get our schedules and uniforms."

I almost choked. "Uniforms?"

A grin nearly split Jonathan's face in half. "Didn't Valentine mention that to you?"

"No," I snapped. I figured he'd probably thought I'd kill him on the spot if he told me. "I'm talking to him about this after school. C'mon, Jonathan, let's go."

And that was exactly how I found myself standing in front of an enormous, beautiful building fifteen minutes later. An enormous, beautiful, absolutely intimidating building. The architecture looked like what would happen if you threw Victorian and Gothic into a blender. I couldn't decide if I liked it or not.

Jon locked the car, and then stuffed the keys in his pocket. We both stood at the edge of the campus for a minute, just staring at everything. First of all, for a surprisingly large campus, the student body looked tiny in comparison.

I spotted a group of girls huddled together. Uh-oh. Looked like popular girls, which can be compared to rabid dogs. You'd be surprised at how many similarities there are between them. Such as, they're always growling and biting others. . .

Quit it, Clary, I scolded myself. Now was definitely not the time to be thinking about that, considering there was a group of them standing scarcely ten feet away from me, and whatever I was thinking tended to become word vomit. It was the first day of school, and I damn well didn't need to set a pack of them on me.

Suddenly, I noticed Jon had started towards the entrance and I was left standing like an idiot with my mouth open. Just great.

"Jon! Wait!" Before I knew it, I was sprinting after him, dodging around the group of girls, who looked scandalized. A blonde boy with tawny eyes stared at me in amusement, and a skinny blonde girl with bloodshot eyes whispered something in a malicious tone to him.

"Nicely done, Clarissa," Jon muttered in an undertone, and I could tell I'd embarrassed him.

"Get used to it, Jon." I threw open the door and thanked the almighty heavens that there was no one in the office.

An ugly woman with long, black nails and a sour expression turned to face us. "Oh. And you are. . . ?"

"Jonathan Morgenstern," Jon interrupted me. "And my sister, Clarissa Morgenstern."

"You don't look related," the lady snapped suspiciously. "Are you sure you're not dating and trying to trick me?"

Jon looked like he was going to forcefully vomit directly into the trash can.

"He's sure," I told the woman. Jon still looked green. "Could we please have our schedules?"

The lady scowled at us, but got them nonetheless. "Your rooms and uniforms will be ready tomorrow."

"Our rooms?" I asked Jon as we quickly went out of the office before the rude lady in there could make another snarky comment.

Jon looked horrified as we arrived back outside. "Clary, look at those other buildings over there. They're dorms."

"Dorms. . . ?" Then it hit. "Wait. A. Minute. Valentine intends for us to live here?! Did he tell you this?"

Jonathan cursed. "No. Probably because he thought I might beat the crap out of something if he did. Dammit."

"I can't believe him! Who the hell does he think he is?"

Jon was just about to reply when someone tapped him on the shoulder. We both turned around to see a girl with really, really blue eyes smiling angelically up at him.

I could see Jon checking her out (and vice versa), and rolled my eyes. School hadn't even technically started and Jon had already acquired a fan club, for the love of God!

"What's your name?" The girl asked flirtatiously. Her silky blonde hair blew back with the wind, making her look like some kind of Pantene model. I couldn't decide between two thoughts: Jealous! or Oh, gross.

"I'm Jonathan Morgenstern. And you are. . . ?"

"Kaelie Fey," smiled Kaelie. I couldn't tell if she was actually smiling sweetly or if it was for her slack-jawed friends' benefit standing a mere few feet behind us.

"I'm just going to. . ." I muttered, desperate to get away from Jon and Kaelie's newly formed flirtationship. I edged off to the right, narrowly missing a tall girl with a red-lipsticked mouth and glaring eyes like green jewels.

I looked down at my schedule as I headed towards what I hoped was the building where the classes were. First period: English. Second period: Art. Lunch. Third period: Math. Fourth period: History. Good thing: There was only four periods in a day. Bad thing: They all were an hour and a half long. Ugh.

I shot a quick look behind me, and now Jonathan was surrounded by Kaelie, the blonde girl I'd very nearly ran into, and another girl with long, curly hair. Two-thirds of them looked like they were outright fawning over him. Ew.

". . . and I'm playing football here. . ." I heard him brag. Oh Jonathan, don't you know it's not called football in Britain? Sigh. My brother, the instantaneous celebrity. Nicely done, bro.

I laughed quietly to myself, watching my brother make himself look like a fool. All of a sudden, another boy sauntered up to their little fangirl clique. This boy had blonde hair and tawny eyes—the same one I'd seen talking to the blonde girl with bloodshot eyes, who I thought was Pantene-Commercial Kaelie Fey.

As soon as Kaelie heard the tawny-eyed boy behind her, she jumped away from Jon, who looked severely disappointed, with a little shriek of joy.

"Hi, Jace!" Kaelie squealed so loudly I heard it from the entrance to Idris, which was on the other side of the grass where they were.

The boy who was called Jace smiled a slow, almost predatory smile at Kaelie. Well, I had no doubt about what their relationship was like, then. He whispered something in Kaelie's ear, and she smirked at him.

"Obviously, Jacey. . . Anyways, see you tonight!" Oh, yuck. I'd probably have to carry an air-sickness bag around this school. Kaelie danced back over to Jonathan, who was, as far as I could tell, was still rambling on about his stunt in "football."

I noticed a spark of distaste color Jace's face at the pet name "Jacey", but it was gone in a heartbeat. Well, I couldn't blame him. . . If I were him at that moment, I think I would've broken up with Kaelie right there and then.

It was at that moment that I noticed Jace was heading straight towards me. Crap, crap, crap. I didn't really feel like running into a hot boy when I looked like. . . yeah.

The Gods may have graced me with the office miracle, but luck wasn't on my side anymore. Jace wandered over to the door I was oh-so-surreptitiously standing right outside, with my nose buried in my schedule like it was the newest manga or something, because I clearly hadn't been watching his whole exchange with Kaelie. Duh. Not suspicious at all, right?

I prayed that he would open up the door and walk inside instead of stopping to talk to the freakishly new girl, but nope. Not even.

"Are you new here?"

I looked up, pretending that I'd never seen him before. "First day."

Jace cracked a flirtatious grin, and I felt irritated. The only boys who smiled like that knew exactly how good-looking they were, and had practically heard it since birth. They might've been hot, but were usually arrogant players, and not at all my type. "What's your name?"

"Clarissa, but I hate that, so call me Clary." I was going to "ask" what Jace's name was—still playing the charade that I didn't know who he was—but decided against it. Guys like that usually just tell you anyways, with an ego-inflating comment about themselves tacked on.

Jace looked at me thoughtfully. "I don't think I'm going to call you Clary. I think I'll call you Red."

Ginger jokes. I repressed a sigh, settling for rolling my eyes instead. "You're annoying."

"Not just annoying, Red, but extremely handsome and intelligent as well. It's a gift." Jace winked at me. Why was he hitting on me? Didn't he have a girlfriend already? "I'm Jace, by the way."

"Whatever." I was preparing myself to walk away from Jace, when he caught my wrist.

"Wait, Red. Do you know who that guy is over there?"

I didn't have to look where he was pointing to guess it was Jon.

"If I answer that, will you let go of me?" I pulled against his grip with no avail, until, finally he released me. "He's Jonathan Morgenstern."

Jace looked puzzled. "I thought you were new here. . . ?"

"Yeah, he's my brother." I watched the surprise play out on Jace's features, and before he could turn to ask me another question ("Hey, Red, how can I win back the attention of the girls I so love?" Probably not, but funny to imagine), I had slipped into the school, and was power-walking off to my first class—English.

I was feeling pretty pleased with myself. No mean girl comments had been thrown my way yet, I'd found my second class already (even if it meant that I had walked around the whole school during break, but no one needs to know that), hadn't run into Jon again, and had even ditched Jace outside the campus. Success. Or at least I thought so, until Art started, and then I wanted to die.

I knew there was a possibility that I might end up in the same class as Jace. I couldn't decide whether that would be bad or not. Half of my brain was going, Yum, hot boy while the other half was resonating some spiel about how players are never good people to crush on.

The bell rang, and I took a quick inventory of my classmates. They all seemed to know each other very well, unlike St. Xavier's, where there were the certain groups and cliques, but not everyone seemed to be as friendly as they were with each other here. They were all clustered into one large group, leaving me sitting awkwardly on the fringe of their outside members.

After studying them for several minutes while the art teacher, Ms. Branwell, launched into a speech about the contents of the syllabus and the art fees, I was pretty sure I had their group figured out, creepily enough.

There was a boy with strange silver hair and eyes who was holding the hand of a girl with thick, dark hair and pretty gray eyes. Next to him was a pair of boys that were obviously brothers—sandy-haired and green-eyed. The two green-eyed brothers were deep in conversation with two girls: one had jet-black hair and impossibly violet-blue eyes, while the other hair thick curls and luminous hazel eyes. Next to the brothers and the girls they were talking to was a dark-haired boy with ice-blue eyes, looking slightly aloof. Next to him was a ribbon-slender girl with a waterfall of straight, sleek, dark hair. Then, rounding out the group were two blonde girls: Kaelie Fey (whose eyes were still bloodshot) and one with delicately curling blonde hair and chocolate-brown eyes. I was pretty sure that this was just the start of whatever massive-sized clique these people belonged to.

Then, just as Ms. Branwell began talking about what materials she had stored in the art room, Jace stumbled in, and if I hadn't known better, I would've said he looked slightly drunk. But that was ridiculous. Who had the audacity to get drunk on the first day of school, and right in the middle of school, nonetheless?

He shot a grin at me. I pretended that my hair was the most impenetrable curtain possible. Jace plopped down next to Kaelie, almost losing his tedious sense of balance, and Kaelie did a mini-squeal of, "Jacey!" Oh please. Spare me the lovey-dovey PDA already.

Ms. Branwell regarded Jace from his seat, where he grinned sloppily at her. "Sorry, Ms. Branwell, I got held up."

Ms. Branwell might've been small, but she certainly knew how to command respect from her students. I looked on as she lectured Jace, giving him a detention after school, and then continued on with her speech.

"Jace," hissed Kaelie, "where were you? You weren't even here in science!" Her voice rose in pitch, but, impressively enough, she still managed to keep it down to a whisper.

"I was out." Jace zipped open his backpack and showed her something inside it. "See? I got a lot for us."

I strained to hear their conversation, to see if my Drunk-Jace theory was valid. At the moment, however, Jace could've been talking about vodka, drugs, or condoms. I wasn't sure which, and the way he said it to Kaelie made them all sound equally revolting.

The boy with the icy-colored eyes leaned backwards to talk to Jace. "Jace. Kaelie's right—where were you?"

A stupid grin appeared on Jace's face. Drunk-Jace theory fifty-percent approved. "I was out, Alec."

"Well," whispered Alec, "you can't keep getting drunk before class, Jace. Remember what happened last year? I don't care if we're in the Shadowhunters, but this has to stop before you get expelled."

Aha! Caught you, "Jacey." Red-handed, might I add.

Jace sighed gustily. He was definitely wasted. "I'm not going to get expelled. The teachers love me too much. Besides, last year is last year. I don't give a crap about it."

Alec gave him a warning look. "I don't think the teachers are going to 'love' you once they find out what's in your backpack."

"And? Doesn't everyone carry alcohol in their backpack at one point?"

Alec pinched the bridge of his nose. "Dammit, Jace, that's not the point. Besides, I know you, and I would bet money right now that it's not just alcohol but some kind of drug."

"Dude. You're in the Shadowhunters. This is what we do." Jace smirked, and turned to talk to Kaelie, completely ignoring Alec, whom I felt a surge of sympathy for.

Ms. Branwell finished going over the syllabus, and stood up. "Our first project of the year is to draw or paint a picture of someone or something. You decide the subject. But it's due three weeks from now, and we will be working on it mostly in class."

For a second there, I thought she was going to decide for us. Thank God she didn't. I immediately began thinking of a subject, oblivious to the bell ringing until the slender girl with the charcoal-colored hair, who was also wearing stilettos accidentally stepped on my foot.

Ouch. I made a mental reminder to never wear high heels to school out of courtesy for the other people there.

"I'm sorry!" the girl apologized. "I didn't see you there and. . . sorry."

"It's fine," I smiled at her. Perfect opportunity for friend-making, right? Not really, just an awkward situation. "I've had worse."

"I still feel kinda bad," she confessed sheepishly. "What's your name again?"

That was when the Oh-God-Where's-That-Hole-In-The-Floor part began. Aka: Jace cutting in.

Jace, who had unfortunate timing, drunkenly stomped over to the girl and me, waving frantically in my direction. There was no doubt in my mind: he was one hundred and two percent drunk.

"Izzy!" he slurred. "Iz! I didn't know you know Red!"

The charcoal-haired girl looked at Jace like he was an idiot, and then it seemed to click. She turned to Kaelie. "Did he actually. . . ?"

Kaelie seemed vaguely pleased, and nodded. "Oh, yes, Isabelle. And you won't believe how much he has in his backpack!"

Interest lit Isabelle's nearly black eyes. "What for?"

"There's a back-to-school party tonight in Magnus's room," Kaelie said eagerly. "We're all going. Are you?"

"Hell, yeah!" Isabelle exclaimed, unfazed. A back-to-school party? My ass. They were all probably going to go and get as drunk, if not drunker, than Jace was at the moment.

Jace threw an arm around my shoulders and I could feel Kaelie shooting daggers at me. "Red! Are you going?"

I cringed. That nickname was just. . . no. Attempting vainly to throw his arm off me, I stammered, "Um. . ."

I was saved from answering that by Isabelle, who was looking at the pair of us as if we had both sprouted an extra head. "Your name is Red?"

"No!" I exclaimed, annoyed. "It's just this stupid nickname. . . Anyways, long story short, my name is Clary Morgenstern."

Kaelie looked pissed. "Jacey gave you a nickname?"

"It's not like I want one!" I snapped at Kaelie. "Does he call you Blondie?"

Kaelie huffed, then spun around, calling over her shoulder, "See you tonight, Jacey!"

Isabelle mimed throwing up, and pried Jace off me. "Seriously Jace, with all the stuff you'll drink at Magnus's tonight, you're going to have one hell of a hangover tomorrow."

Jace grinned at her. "You're no better, Iz."

Isabelle shot him a dirty look. "Go and find Kaelie or something."

Once Jace had staggered off, she turned back to me. "Sorry about that. So you're Clary?"

"That's me. And you are. . . Isabelle, I'm guessing?"

Isabelle smiled prettily. "Isabelle Lightwood, to be exact. But Jace wasn't joking about the party thing. Are you going to go?"

I felt sort of surprised. So here was one of the infamous Lightwoods Valentine had moved all the way to Britain to talk to.

I hesitated. One side of me knew that associating with this group would lead me to a dead end. The other side was the nightlife-Pandemonium-with-Simon side, screaming at me to get out and have fun.

"It'll be really fun," Isabelle pleaded persuasively. "We smuggle the best stuff in."

"Oh, fine," I relented. How bad could it be, after all? "I'll go."

Isabelle's smile glittered, like a gemstone. Or vodka. "Excellent. Meet me in room 807 at six. Oh, and pass the invitation along to that gorgeous brother of yours."

With that, Isabelle departed, leaving a swirl of perfume behind. The bell rang, and I realized I was officially late to my next class. . . on the first day of school.

Congratulations, Clary.

Hi guys! This is my newest fanfic, City of the Fallen. Review, follow, favorite! Clockwork Academy, one of my other fanfics, has been updated. I'm working on Clockwork Enigma, and one called City of Bones (with reversed roles) may be uploaded soon as well.