A/N: So, I've been rereading my chapters and realizing that I totally need a beta. If anyone would like to volunteer for the position, that'd be rad. Otherwise it'll be slow-going as I edit everything live. I apologize for all of the mistakes that abound as it is and will try to get to correcting them as soon as possible. I just post stuff as soon as I finish writing it to get it up stat 'cause it takes me so long. Things have been getting busy, but I'm hoping that I'll get some time to write & edit Thanksgiving week (:

"No!… Not the mangoes… The ducks… The ducks are eating my mangoes!" Jace cries out as he awakens from his fitful slumber. His hair and clothes are disheveled from thrashing around on the couch and his throat is hoarse from yelling nonsense in his sleep. "Wah! Hauh! Huh?" He sits up abruptly and whips his head around as he tries to bring his blurry surroundings into focus through his blinking squinted eyes.

"Oh, don't worry, Jace. Your mangoes are just fine." Alec snorts into his tea as Magnus sarcastically reassures Jace, plopping another perfectly rounded crispy golden-brown pancake onto the blue-eyed Shadowhunter's plate.

"What?" Jace's bemused face searches around for the origin of the voices. He's startled to find them enjoying a pleasant breakfast at the cozy round dining table in the next room. The archway is large and he can see perfectly into the combined dining/kitchen area. Alec's hair is mussed and he's wearing a large white collared shirt that's wrinkled and un-tucked. Jace has never seen him look so casual before. Magnus, on the other hand, is still glittery and spiked, but wearing a long maroon dressing gown that has velvet designs of a lighter maroon on it and dark furry fringe on the borders. Jace hopes he at least has underwear on, too.

"Oh, nothing. Pancake?" Magnus turns to face Jace, who is shakily climbing off of the couch. He tilts the pan down with his oven-mitt covered hand, lifting a pancake slightly with the spatula in his other. If his appearance weren't so flamboyant, Jace might have sworn a 50s housewife were standing in front of him.

"Uh… no… thanks…" Jace rubs his head. He can feel the onset of a hangover creeping up. He scouts around the messy living room for his stuff and after he's collected everything, ambles over to the table. He grabs a banana from the fruit bowl in the center of the table and begins to peel it slowly. "So… last night, huh?"

Alec raises his gaze from his now half-eaten flapjack and nervously eyes Magnus. The tall warlock seems not to notice and returns to the kitchen. When neither of them says anything, Jace continues.

"Do… either of you remember anything?" Jace munches tensely on the banana. Alec's pancake now rests totally forgotten on his plate and he's intently gazing at the back of Magnus's head.

"Oh, not much. Just bits and pieces. Was quite a night, though. Fairy juice. What a kick, huh? What do you remember?" Magnus casually rejoins them at the table with a few glasses of orange juice, still playing hostess.

"Not much," Jace echoes. Alec has a feeling that Jace's lying, but hopes that if he pretends he isn't, it'll be true. "I think I remember being on the ceiling at one point, though." Alec lets the air he was holding in rush out in relief.

"Ha, yeah. That was crazy. You were drunker than I've ever seen you, but I'm sure the fairy juice had something to do with that. All in all, it was pretty fun, though. At least, I thought so." Alec's eyes meet Magnus's who winks surreptitiously at him. Alec goes faintly pink and a quick smile flashes across his lips.

"Yeah." Jace sniffs the juice suspiciously before taking a gulp of it, his banana peel splayed carelessly on the empty plate in front of him. "It was. Listen, I didn't do… or say anything…"

Alec cuts him off. "Nah, don't worry about it. You were fine. Nothing was out of the ordinary for the belligerently drunken Jace Wayland. Granted, with the juice, you were slightly more pleasant to be around than normal, so that was nice heh."

"Ha! Pleasant to be around. Definitely must have been wasted." Jace's trying to keep his tone light, but impressions from last night are swimming like ghostly shadows in his mind. "I think I can still feel a little of that fairy juice in me, so I'm gonna go try to walk it off. You guys do your thing without me. I dunno when I'll be back." Jace stands and chugs the rest of his juice before grabbing his jacket from the back of the chair and setting off towards the door at a brisk pace. Alec and Magnus look at each other suspiciously, but don't seem to mind the fact that they're about to be left alone together one bit.

Jace practically bounds down the sidewalks in his agitated state. Fragments of conversation with Alec from last night are seeping into his head, and he's using all of his attention to try to recall more. All he knows right now is that they were talking about Clary, which is causing him to panic slightly. Try as he might, he can't make out any of the specifics of the conversation. All that's coming to him is this tone of finality and resignation. But resignation to what?

He's not even paying attention to where he's going and suddenly he looks up and finds he's outside of Taki's. Too bad he's not hungry. He loves their food more than anywhere else. He nods his head at the man standing outside the front door keeping watch who nods back. The fact that Jace's known by all of the staff makes him wonder if he goes there too often.

Clary. His mind thinks back to training. Things were going well until he started getting overly bold. He hadn't meant to, he just lost control of himself. He knows that he behaved inappropriately, acted like a jerk, but he had been so caught up in the moment, he'd wanted her so much that it was painful when she pulled away. He couldn't have said that, though. But then what she did was even more cruel. He hadn't had the intention of teasing her, but that had obviously been her plan from the start.

Little Clary Fray. He smiles in spite of himself. She really did look incredible. Hardly like herself. And he played into her hand just how she wanted. It was true, there was no way he could have resisted her when she looked like that, when she was throwing herself at him like that. After all, I'm only human, right?

So what, I want her. Sure. That's been established. No problem. But why is she driving me nuts like this? Why can't I stop thinking about her? Is it because I can't have her? Because she won't let me? If I win her over, will things go back to how they were before? I'll lose interest in her and move on? But even if that is the case, the weirdest thing is that… I don't want that to happen…

A realization strikes Jace like a thunderbolt mid-thought. I don't want that to happen. His heart skips a beat in jubilation when he realizes he's finally figured out at least a part of how he is feeling. I don't want that to happen! I don't WANT to get over her. I don't want to stop wanting her!

Jace breaks out into a run, laughing like a madman as he races toward the Institute, determined to find Clary and finally try to talk to her about everything. But his next thought makes him slow to a walk again. I don't want to stop wanting her? What does that even mean, though? Another fragment of the conversation from last night comes to him and he hears Alec's voice in his head.

'…you need to figure out if you want to try to pursue a relationship with her…'

Jace groans as his stomach does a flip, dread starting to pour into it from every direction. A relationship. Is that really what he wants? All his life, Jace had seen relationships as something that ties people down, something that inhibits a person's freedom. Not to mention the fact that the goal of a relationship is typically love and commitment, two things he didn't believe in unless they were in relation to family, and even then, they were to be kept at a distance and monitored scrupulously.

'Anyway, just… talk to her… tell her how you feel even if that means telling her that you don't know how you feel. Just say what you said to me just now.'

Maybe Alec's right. Maybe I should just tell Clary everything… how I feel about love… why I'm so wary of it… how I feel about her… why I'm such a dick to her… I don't know. I hate this whole opening up to people thing, and I really hope that Alec doesn't remember last night at all since I barely do, but I hate to say it… he might be right…

Before Jace can change his mind, charges toward the tall building looming in the distance, trying not to think about how the conversation with Clary might go, but instead focusing on his breathing as he runs, pretending like he's chasing a demon. And maybe he is… The demon of doubt.

I'm holding onto the subway pole ferociously texting Luke with my free hand. Where ARE you, Luke!? I'm not gonna lie, I'm freaking out a little bit. This is it. This is the moment I need him most. This is our chance to get the Cup and use it to find Mom. How, exactly, I'm not sure. Hodge and I didn't get that far in our plan, but I think it entails bargaining with Valentine: Mom for the Cup. Obviously, we won't actually give him the Cup, but we need to make him think we will. But we'll cross that bridge when we get there. First step is to get the Cup.

The subway is surprisingly empty, but I'm too anxious to sit. I'm loving the fact that I can now use the invisibility rune any time I go in public. It's so great to not have to deal with people. So far, I've only seen one or two people look at me when I'm glamoured, but I think that most werewolves and warlocks/witches keep to themselves. It's crazy to think that they look at me and see a Shadowhunter now. I still just see little old me when I look in the mirror. Maybe with more Marks and muscle, I'll start to see myself more for what I actually am. I giggle slightly at the thought. As if Marks and muscles are what makes someone a Nephilim.

Finally Luke responds to my texts. I almost forget to "mind the gap" when I exit the train. All he says in response to my numerous messages is, "On my way. Wait until I get there. Won't be long." I'm about to type, "ASLKJDFAKLJFASDF," but think better of it.

As I'm racing out of the station, I go over the plan in my mind. Get there. Use senser. If no demonic activity, use stele to look through wall. If no one there, use opening rune to unlock door and go inside. It occurs to me that I'm going to have to figure out where Dorothea stores the cards. Maybe there's a detection or summoning rune? But no one has shown me that. I've never seen one before. I suddenly realize that I'm approaching the brownstone apartment building. Everything in between the subway station and now is just a blur. I must have been totally absorbed in thought. Crazy.

Before I allow myself to get pulled back into what I was thinking, I pull out my stele and senser and get ready. When I'm outside the front steps of the building, I make sure to monitor the senser carefully. So far, so good. I open the door and step inside. Everything looks good. I walk down the hall until I'm outside of Dorothea's door and wave the senser around. Still nothing. I take out my stele and put it to the door, peering around when the wood becomes transparent. There doesn't seem to be anybody home, so I decide to go it, despite Luke telling me to wait for him. Everything seems fine, and there's not a trace of demonic activity, so I'm sure it'll be okay. It'll be faster this way anyhow.

Before trying the opening rune, I turn the doorknob just in case. To my surprise, the door is open. So far, that's the first suspicious thing that's happened. I pocket my stele and senser once more and pull a dagger from my leg harness. One of my strongest areas in training so far has been knife throwing. It's super fun and makes me feel like a ninja. When my grip is tight around the handle, I fling the door open and run inside, poised in a defensive stance, wildly surveying the room for signs of life.

Everything seems to be how Dorothea always keeps it. Neat as a pin. Strangely enough, Dorothea's shoes are by the door and her slippers are gone. That must mean she's home. Oh crap! It didn't even occur to me that she might be here. That explains the door being unlocked. Wow. I just broke in! I need to leave before she finds me in here!

I scramble back out the doorway and try to shut the door as quietly as possible before leaning my back against it, breathing heavily. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. What kind of Shadowhunter are you, Clary Fray? Barging into someone's house like that? What is wrong with you?!

When I've regained my composure, I re-sheathe my knife and knock loudly on the door. I wait for a few moments, but don't hear anything. I knock again, this time calling Dorothea's name.

"Madame Dorothea? It's Clary Fray. I was hoping I could talk to you again." I put my ear against the door and hear a muffled scuffling noise. "Dorothea?"

The door opens unexpectedly and I start to fall forward into the large form in front of me. I feel two hands steady me and I look up into the familiar face I was calling for. Dorothea looks a bit confused, but smiles slightly down at me.

"Clary. What a pleasant surprise. Come in." Her voice is somewhat flat, but she pulls me gently into her apartment and closes the door behind me, locking it. "Would you like a cup of tea?"

"Uh, no, thanks. Actually, I was hoping to look at the tarot cards my mom painted for you again, if you don't mind." I move into the apartment after the exotically dressed woman and my eyes dart from shelf to shelf, hoping to find them.

"Why, of course. I was actually just doing a daily reading in the living room. Follow me." Dorothea was being far more polite and cordial than usual, but her tone was distant and cold. What's wrong with her? I briefly wonder if she's alright before getting distracted by the cards spread on the low glass coffee table. I rush over to it and kneel beside it. I've almost grabbed the cards when I remember my manners and look to the woman standing over me. The forced smile returns to her lips and she nods down at me, signaling me to go ahead, her eyes intensely watching me. I feel my skin crawl for a moment, but remind myself that this is too important to let anything distract me.

I rifle through the cards, searching for the Cup. When I find it, I let out a cry of relief and carry it over to the nearby floral sofa. I sit and put the card on my lap staring down at it, trying to focus my attention the way I did before. I become aware that Dorothea has silently moved next to me on the couch. She's so close, I can feel her warm breath on me. I gulp, thoroughly ill at ease, feeling like something is wrong, but the senser said there wasn't any demonic activity, and that was definitely Dorothea. I push away my doubts one last time and dipped my fingers into the card.

I hear Dorothea suck in her breath as she watches my hand disappear into the picture and grasp the Cup. When I pull it out, we both stare at it in awe for a moment. It's gorgeous, resplendent, magnificent in its opulence, in the way that the light catches in the jewels that decorate it, the way the golden color sparkles with depth and dimension. I'm turning it around in my hand as we admire it, tracing the rim with my fingers.

"Clary…" Dorothea whispers. I'd almost forgotten she was there. "Clary, do you think I could hold it…" Her eyes are fixed on the cup and there's almost a hunger in them. I've never seen her look this way before. Despite what Luke told me about how Dorothea's been protecting my mom and me all of these years, there's something about her right now that just seems off. She's not acting like herself. Maybe I'm just being paranoid, but something is telling me to trust my instincts.

I start to inch backward on the couch uneasily, trying to think of some way out. "Uh, well, I told Hodge that I'd bring the Cup right back to him, so I think that I should really get going. The sooner we get this back, the sooner we can figure out how to get Mom back."

Dorothea's tone suddenly changes. "You think you're going to get your mother back just because you're in possession of the Mortal Cup? My dear, do you even know what the Cup does? What its powers are?" The guards I had already been tentatively erected just solidified. I move back so I'm almost against the arm, but Dorothea keeps sliding toward me, keeping the space between us even.

"Well, I think the plan is to use it as a bargaining chip. Offer it to Valentine in exchange for my mom. Of course we wouldn't give it to him for real, though." I start to slowly stand, keeping my hand on the sofa's arm. Dorothea mimics my movements, a cruel smile spreading over her lips. She throws her head back and cackles when we're both standing.

"Foolish child!" She shrieks and before I realize what she's doing, she's swiped the Cup out of my hands and sent me flying with just one hand. I crash into the China cabinet against the far wall and it rocks, sending porcelain plates and cups crashing through the glass and onto me. I throw my hands up just in time to avoid them breaking over my head, but they shatter one by one on the floor around me as they bounce off of my arms. A few particularly fragile glasses have broken on my arms, sending shards down my face, but aside from a few scratches from the stray glass, I'm fine. I get to my feet in time to find Dorothea walking toward a door on the other side of the room and shout after her.

"Wait!" She turns as I unsheathe my dagger again and chuck it at her wrist. It snags in the fabric of her long sleeve and pins her wrist to the wall. It must have grazed her skin, too, because she drops the Cup in surprise and I see blood staining the lacy white cloth. I don't waste any time and run towards her at full speed, launching myself off of the sofa arm and over its back for added distance. By the time I've landed next to the Cup and grasped it firmly in my hand, Dorothea's wrenched the dagger free from the wall and is advancing on me, clutching the knife threateningly in her uninjured hand. I roll over and push myself up to a seated position, struggling to get to my feet. She's so close that if I were to stand, she'd easily be able to cut me and steal back the Cup. I try to think of a way to stall.

"Why, Dorothea? Why are you doing this? What could you possibly want with the Cup? I thought my mom gave it to you to guard because she trusted you. I mean, I know that you didn't protect us for entirely altruistic reasons, but this doesn't make any sense."

"Stupid girl. Haven't you figured it out yet?" Dorothea reaches into her pocket and pulls out a glowing crystal. I'm not sure what it is, but can tell that it's definitely some kind of Downworlder magic, probably the kind of thing Magnus would use. My guess is confirmed when Dorothea shatters the crystal on the ground causing a swirl of colored smoke to swirl around her. I take the opportunity to get to my feet and try to back away further, when I stop in my tracks, my eyes wide with shock and fear. As the smoke disappears, Dorothea is no longer standing in front of me. Valentine is.

"Hodge!" Jace bursts through the doors to the Institute library. The old man jumps and proceeds to look cross at Jace's greeting.

"At this rate, those doors are going to need to be repaired any day now. Just because they were designed by Shadowhunters, doesn't mean we should treat them like training dummies."

"What on Earth are you on about, Hodge? Where's Clary? I've searched all over for her, but she's not here." Jace is striding towards Hodge, determination and concern plastered on his face.

"That's what I'm on about. Clary did basically the same thing not too long ago, granted it was for a very good reason." Hodge's expression softens. "Jace… she's found the Cup."

"She's what? Is that where she is? Did Izzy go with her?"

"No, Isabelle hasn't come home yet. In fact, neither has Alec. I was all alone last night, actually. I think it might be the first time that's ever happened, while you lot have been here."

"Hodge! Focus! Tell me where Clary went. Are you saying she went to get the Cup alone?"

"Yes, but it's alright. She's contacted Luke. The Cup is at the apartment building she and her mother lived at. It's with that woman… Madame Dorothea, I think she's called… So it should be fine, but nevertheless, I gave her a senser and told her to wait for Luke at the slightest sign of demonic activity. She brought weapons with her and I gave her a few protective Marks."

Jace can't believe his ears. He can't believe Clary would try to go retrieve the Cup without him. He can't believe that Hodge would let her go without him. Even with Luke there, they could need help. Downworlders are known to kill the occasional demon, but it's not their profession. It's not their life. They don't train since youth to kill demons. That's what Shadowhunters are for. Without even waiting for Hodge to say another word, Jace stormed out of the room to gather some weapons together and Mark himself up before going to chase after Clary. He tried to get ahold of Alec and Izzy, but neither of them were answering calls or texts. He figured he knew what Alec was up to, seeing as how he'd left him pretty cozy at Magnus's, but he was slightly worried about Izzy. Where could she be? Why didn't she come home? If she's not with Clary…?

Isabelle is a Shadowhunter, however, and Clary… well, she's still getting there. Plus, she's just gone to retrieve the item that is most desired by the most dangerous person in the world right now. Odds are, Clary is in greater peril than Izzy.

Oh, Clary, why did you have to go and do something like this? Especially right now when I was finally considering doing the whole talking about feelings thing. Isn't life just so ironic sometimes.

As he's charging out of the Institute, he can't stop imagining finding Clary dead in one way or another. There's a panic in his chest that is unfamiliar and makes him feel sick. Is this what love feels like? When he thinks back to his father's words, 'To love is to destroy, to be loved is to be destroyed,' Jace wonders that if to love is to destroy, is it possible to destroy yourself, as well as others, by loving. Because that's how it feels. The fear and dread that's eating away at him makes him feel like he's being destroyed.

I'm staring at the enormous man in front of me in horror. His shoulders are broad, his eyes are black as coal and his hair is as pale as my ashen face. He's wearing a neat suit and aside from the hardness of his features and malice behind his eyes, he's quite handsome.

"Valentine!" I gasp.

"Very good!" He says in a mocking tone as he continues to advance on me. "You are a clever one, aren't you? Just like our dear Jocelyn. Seems like you take after her in more ways than one." He glances at my red hair. "You certainly don't seem to have any of me in you, hmm?"

I gulp, suddenly remembering what Luke had told me. Valentine, this man who is trying to kill me for the sake of a deranged ideal, is my father.

"Thank the Angel!" I spit with more confidence than I feel. I'm still backing away, my arms outstretched behind me, hoping to feel the wall or door, but they're both far away. Valentine's face contorts with distaste.

"Come now, Clary. Let's be civil. We are family after all."

"You're no family of mine! You killed my family! My brother, my grandparents, and now you've taken my mother, too! How dare you try to say you're anything to me!"

"Be quiet, you foolish girl! You know nothing!"

"I know everything! Luke told me-"

"Luke?" Valentine stops for a moment, looking contemplative. "You mean Lucian Graymark?"

I say nothing, but also stop for a moment, waiting for what he's going to say next. To my surprise, he just starts laughing. His laugh is as cold as his eyes and it chills me to the bone.

"Lucian… you believe a Downworlder's word over that of your own father?"

"Luke has been more of a father to me than you ever could be!"

"Ah, but then, why would he lie to you? A father wouldn't lie to his daughter after everything you've been through, would he? I would never lie to you, dear Clarissa."

"I don't believe you! He didn't lie to me. I mean, he did, but he told me the truth after. I know what you are. I know how you weave a web of lies that are convincing, and I won't be fooled!"

"Let me prove to you that I am the one who is telling the truth, not him. Your precious 'Luke' told you that I killed your brother, did he not?"

I nod, wary of falling prey to his powers. I slip my free hand into my pocket and clutch my stele tightly. I'm not sure what to do, but I'm hoping something comes to me.

"He lied. Your brother is alive. In fact, you know him."

"What?" I breathe in disbelief, my grip tightening around the stele.

"Yes… you know him by a certain name… a nickname… His real name is Jonathan Christopher, but you know him… as Jace."

A/N: Remember, reviews = love (: Just comment on stuff you like, stuff you don't like, anything really. I just like to hear from you guys. Love y'all ^^