Hey guys, just a disclaimer that I don't own The Mortal Instruments and that this is completely un-beta'd. All mistakes are my own. Also this story is rated M. There are instances of mature language and mature themes.

Also, please keep in mind that things usually get worse before things get better. This chapter should be taken as a reminder of that.

Things that happen in this chapter may upset you. I can tell you there are things that were difficult for me to write. There are things that I never intended to write, but they sort of came out.

Please bear with me through this rough patch.

Oh, and sorry for the autocorrect of Eona's name to Iona in the last chapter. I did go back and fix it.

A New Friend

Isabelle had beautiful eyes. Almond shaped and lined with dark lashes. The color; a deep, chocolate brown. Warm. Inviting. Those eyes closed one last time as the Infernal Cup poured its vile contents past her unwilling lips.

Even paralyzed, her body convulsed of its own accord. Beneath her flesh, it burned. The angelic blood—her Lightwood blood—replaced by the blood of a greater demon. Her heritage, her lineage, snuffed out in a single sip.

Her body was invaded by someone else, something else. The vulnerability that she worked so hard to hide was gone. The love of family, of friends, replaced by a soldier's duty. The Marks on her flesh that spoke of who and what she was—each scar a memory and a testament—gone like ink washed away in the rain.

Her eyes opened, as black as a starless sky—two shining onyx stones. Still beautiful, but hollow. Obedient enough to serve but feral. Lethal.

Isabelle sprang to her feet in a crouch, her eyes hungry. Her head turned left then right, surveying her surroundings as she tasted the air. A sneer spread across her pale face when her eyes rested on Jonathan.

"Master." She ducked her head in a curt bow.

The concussion of the summoning circle's abrupt close knocked everyone from their feet. Burnt embers of Hell's fire rained down on the stunned group.

Alec was the first to speak, his voice shaky, desperate. "Open the circle," he pleaded, wrapping a hand around Magnus's forearm and looking deep into his cat's eyes.

Alec's eyes were like vast oceans, and right now they were swirling with tears. Magnus couldn't find the words to say—couldn't bear to be the one to tell him no. He simply shook his head, his eyes downcast.

Simon sprang to his feet with all the elegance of a vampire. His hand twisted into the mess of brown hair atop his head. "We know where he is, right?" He said to no one in particular. "We can get to her, to—to Clary, too. We can bring them both back now, right?" He looked up at Magnus with so much hope in his eyes.

Magnus sighed. "Even if I had the energy to summon him—which I don't—what are we going to do? All jump through the circle?"

"Yes," Jace answered. "That's exactly what—"

Magnus was too drained for niceties. "—the question was rhetorical. Sebastian is no idiot, and he has my sister. Greater demon blood runs through his veins, which is the reason it was a challenge for me to contain him within the circle in the first place. We never dreamed that he would be drawn in by a summoning. He'll be expecting it now, and it's not difficult to break free from a circle when you're prepared." Magnus was about to continue, when Jace interjected … again.

"So let him. Let him break free." Jace was all fire, his gold eyes flashing red. "I'll kill him."

Magnus threw his hands up in exasperation. "No, Jace. You're absolutely right. You kill Sebastian and then what? The war will be over—yes—but Clary and Isabelle will still be trapped in Hell. We summoned Sebastian, but that told us nothing about where he is. Not one of the other demons we wasted all day summoning could tell us anything pertaining to his whereabouts. All we know is that they are in Edom. Assuming I could portal you there, which I can't, it's a vast realm and deadly."

"I'm not—"

"—afraid. Yes, I know. But you are a complete imbecile!"

"Magnus," Tessa warned, her voice taking on the tone of a mother chastising a cantankerous child. She then turned her attention to each person in the room, holding their gazes one by one, seeing the fear and the anger in their eyes and trying to wordlessly reassure them with a look alone.

Magnus pinched the bridge of his nose and spared a passing glance toward Jace to make sure he wasn't setting the floor on fire. He wasn't, but he was also far from calm. And who could blame him; he had already lost the love of his life to a raging lunatic, and now his sister. Alec's sister. Magnus was angry. The responsibility resting on his shoulders was too much. Of course, he was the one who has spear-headed the whole thing. But now he didn't have a choice. Clary was a sweet girl—loving, brave, and kind, but Isabelle was Alec's sister. He couldn't fail him. He would have to see this through.

Tessa's voice cut through the swirling sea of thoughts in the room. You could almost hear the turmoil and anguish of each person's thoughts like a deafening choir of whispers, the noise building and bubbling behind your ears. "Our magic is spent, and we will do no one—not Clary or Isabelle—any good by following a half-hatched plan. We've already taken a greater risk than we knew through the summoning. Repeating that same mistake now will very likely be deadly. Magnus is right; he can't portal to Edom as he's never been. I've never been, but I'm sure that I can find someone from the Spiral Labyrinth that has. They may not be willing to portal anyone there, but they might have more information than we do on that particular realm of Hell."

"Thank you, Tessa. I know we're all overwhelmed right now," Jocelyn interjected. "But Tessa's right. We need information. We took a big risk, a very big risk, and now Isabelle is gone—"

"—don't say that," Alec bit out. "She's not gone. I would know. I would feel it."

Jocelyn instantly regretted her choice of words. She knew what Alec was feeling. It was the same cacophony of emotions that she had felt in those first moments after losing Clary. "I'm so sorry, Alec. Of course she's not gone. We're going to get them both back. We have to."

Clary hoped that Eona would be waiting for her once she left Jonathan's room. She wasn't ready to talk about anything that had just happened, but she also didn't want to be alone with her thoughts.

The hall was dark as pitch and cold. For once, she welcomed that damp cold. It sapped away the warmth of the fire and the feel of Jonathan's lips—of his hands, his skin—on hers. She closed her eyes and felt the cold envelop her. With her sketchpad still clutched to her chest, she shuffled down the system of caverns, careful to avoid the pitfalls.

Eona was waiting for her in her room. Clary eyed her suspiciously when she entered. Eona sat in the only chair in the room, her back straight and ankles crossed, obviously nervous.

"You could have told me he was in the bathtub … naked," Clary snarked.

And with that, Eona sprang out of the chair, words tumbling out of her mouth. "I know. I wanted to, you have to believe me, but he commanded me not to. Oh, Gods, what did he do? Did he touch you? Did he hurt you? Did he—"

Clary cut off her rant with a raised hand. The warlock might not pick up on most human subtleties, but at least she recognized the universal signal to shut the fuck up. "I'm fine, but I'd rather not talk about it. I just want to take a shower."

"Oh." Eona almost looked disappointed, but she shook the thought away. "Of course. I'll just wait outside while you gather your things. I'll walk you down when you're ready."

Once Eona left the room Clary unclenched her hands from around her sketchpad and set the book down on her bed. Her hands were cold and stiff. She had to rub them together to get the blood flow to return. Clary rubbed her eyes and tried to smooth down her wild hair. Demonic shadowhunters or not, she didn't want to look like a total mess when she was paraded in front of them.

This new life—in Hell—was filled with challenge after challenge. True, the same could be said about her entire life after she had found out she was a Shadowhunter, but at least she hadn't been alone then. Now, besides Eona, a strange warlock with severely-lacking social skills, there was no one she could turn to. Even trusting Eona was in itself a risk, but for the sake of Clary's own sanity, she had to get the things that clawed away at her off her chest. This whole place had a way of clawing away at a person. The coldness, the emptiness, it seemed to suck all the joy—and even the memory of joy—out. She was sure that most of it had to do with the rune over her heart. Clary wondered if she would even be able to sever the rune if she had the opportunity. Would the rune itself prevent her from cutting the link between her brother? She didn't know.

"Are you ready?"

Clary turned to see Eona peering back at her in the entryway. The redhead was unsure how much time had passed while she was staring sightlessly at the rocky wall.

"Um, yeah. Just a minute." Clary rifled through the drawers of her dresser, gathering up random items of clothing. "Do you have a towel?"

"I do now."

And sure enough, the moment Clary looked up, a plush towel appeared in Eona's outstretched hand. Handy.

Once they had left the room, Clary suddenly regretted her current course of action. Still, she needed a shower. There was no denying that. Maybe she could ask Eona for an inflatable pool for her room. A couple hundred gallons of water heated to the perfect temperature, and voilà, a bath. That seemed like a lot of work for one mediocre bath, though, and Clary wouldn't want to bother Eona with all that effort.

Besides, the thought of a bath didn't bring up good memories at the moment. Only a strange, embarrassing one she didn't want to think about. It was even more difficult to get her mind off their most recent encounter as the pair were just nearing his room.

That was odd. There was a door in the entryway to his room where Clary clearly remembered none to be. And noises, though muffled, were coming from the room.

Oh God!

Eona cleared her throat awkwardly and quickened her pace past Jonathan's room. Clary felt her cheeks redden despite herself. She clenched the witchlight in her hand. Its light sputtered and flared, mimicking her inner turmoil. She was a mixture of appalled, disgusted, and … hurt. The rune over her heart pulsed to life, in tune to the beat of her heart hammering in her chest. She was angry. Angry that Jonathan could kiss her and then bring some random girl into his room moments later. Before she realized it, her feet were carrying her toward the door, her fist raised ready to pound on the wood.

Eona's hands around her wrist stunned her. Clary locked eyes with the warlock who merely shook her head and gave her a poignant tug away from the door.

Clary didn't understand what was going on. Any of it. Why should she care if Jonathan was having sex with some random person in his room? Why was she upset? Why did she feel betrayed? As if to answer her, the rune pulsed with pain again beneath her shirt. Clary reached for it. The skin there was hot, fevered. She let Eona lead her away, too lost in her own musings.

The warlock stopped when the door had faded from her view. Eona pulled the girl in close and whispered, "What do you think you were doing?"

"I—I don't know. Something just came over me. The rune …" Clary trailed off, her hand still clasped over her chest. Her eyes wide and mouth hanging open.

"He's not to be disturbed when the door is in place. That's a pretty important rule of his." Eona was clearly irritated. Irritated that Clary hadn't picked up on some rule that she was never told about. As if she were just expected to know.

"Well you could have told me before-hand." They were both yelling now in angry whispers.

"It hadn't come up. Besides, evil brother or not, I didn't think you'd want to know about that." The warlock emphasized the word with a long finger pointed down the hallway.

"Well neither did I, but apparently I do for some messed up reason. It just seems a little—I don't know—odd, that someone who just shoved his tongue down your throat while he was half-naked would be fucking someone else just minutes later!"

By this point, the whispers had ceased to be whispers and Clary was downright yelling, her voice echoing off the walls. Her chest heaved with the effort. Once she had finished the tirade, her eyes grew wide and she clamped her hand over her mouth, looking first at the stunned warlock and then back down the hallway toward the door. For sever seconds, neither of them dared to breath as they waited to see whether the door would open or not.

The silence was cut by a woman's scream followed by a man's grunt. Clary's stomach churned. All she wanted to do was go back to her room, put a pillow over her head, and scream. It was like her thoughts and emotions weren't her own. Someone else had snatched her body and was living in her skin. Unfortunately for Clary, going back to her room meant having to walk past "the door" and she wasn't about to do that.

Not wanting to wait and see whether or not the door would open and not wanting to think about who might come out, Clary now led the way toward the dark shadowhunters' cavern. She clutched the witchlight in her hand, the stone lighting up the passageway like a firecracker, throwing pure, white light out in shattered shards. Anger still coursed through her veins. She didn't bother dimming the light as she entered the cavern. In fact, she relished the hisses the shadowhunters emitted when their eyes fell upon the pure, angelic light.

Strangly enough, there were no cat calls on this journey to the showers. Clary made a mental note to remember the witchlight for her next shower.

Eona stayed close to the girl the whole time but remained silent. It wasn't until Clary had showered and they had left the cavern that Eona finally spoke. "I can portal us to your room if you'd like. I'll probably get in trouble for it, but as long as you're still here, I doubt my punishment would be that bad," Eona offered.

Clary turned to her, suddenly concerned. "He punishes you?"

Eona shrugged. "He never has, but it's been threatened. Then again, I've never broken any of the rules before. Portal magic is only to be used by his directive and when he is present."

Clary nodded her head. "That makes sense." Clary was thankful that Eona hadn't mentioned his name. The shower had helped unwind some of the tension, but it was still a struggle to get a reign on her emotions. She was sure being on her period wasn't helping in the crazy, mood shift department. Once again, she was starting to dwell. "I think I'll take a quick portal as long as you won't get punished for it."

And so the warlock's hands ignited with blue-green energy as she formed the first symbols of a portal. The symbols were familiar to Clary, both because she had seen them before and made one herself. She didn't feel like that little tidbit of information was anything she needed to share at this point, though. Before the last symbol was activated, Eona turned to Clary, "I'm going through first and I'm taking your hand."

Clary nodded. With that, Eona activated the last symbol and a swirling blue vortex opened before them. Clasping hands, the two disappeared and re-appeared in Clary's bedroom.

They both landed on their feet on the carpeted floor of Clary's cave. Clary still hadn't insisted on that dressing screen from Eona, but somehow now knowing that Jonathan had a door, it didn't seem like too much to ask for.

Clary was about to open her mouth to make her request when her brother's voice rang out from the hallway. He was angry, but Clary knew it wasn't with her.

It was Eona's name he was shouting, and it seemed like the warlock had been expecting it. Clary gave her an apologetic look before Eona darted from her room.

As usual, being alone was half-blessing, half-curse. Clary busied herself with laying out her towel to dry and discarding her soiled clothes. She eyed the easel in the corner of the room. Untouched.

Did she dare draw in the mood she was in? She didn't doubt that she'd probably end up with another brooding picture of her brother. She decided that instead, she would think of Eona. The warlock who, despite her shortcomings, had gone out of her way to help a relative stranger. Even at the risk of her own punishment; one that she was likely facing at this very moment.

Clary took the charcoal in hand and struggled to bring it to the paper. She had half a mind to march down there and intervene on Eona's behalf.

Clary couldn't leave this place even if she wanted—the rune kept her here, not the warlock. Clary knew this now more than ever, because as Eona created the portal, Clary could think of nothing else but the current Hell she was in. She couldn't visualize the Institute, the brownstone she and her mother shared, or Luke's apartment over the bookstore. But now, they seemed to come to life in her mind with little effort.

No, Eona would not be punished for this. If Clary had a stele, she'd create a portal herself and plop herself right on the other side of Jonathan's door. Instead, she grabbed her recently discarded witchlight and tore down the hallway, narrowly escaping death.

As she drew closer to his room, a warm light flooded the hallway. The door was gone … or open … or—Clary didn't quite know how that worked, but there were voices talking over each other. Angry. Sharp. Three voices.

"Jonathan Christopher Morgenst—"Clary's words fell on her lips when she took in the sight of the three figures in her brother's room. Jonathan was there, of course, thankfully fully dressed. Eona stood against the wall; her nearly six-foot frame hunched and folded in on itself as her brother hurled barbed words in the warlock's direction. But the figure that caught Clary's attention—the figure that had stunned her to absolute silence—was the woman perched by Jonathan's shoulder clad only in a rumpled, silk sheet.

The sheet and her hair were the same—both black and sleek, rippling down her bare shoulders and back. Her skin looked paler than she remembered even in the soft glow of the fire. But her eyes, her eyes were the most changed. It was as if another person was staring at her from her friend's body, and the eyes were a dead give-away.

Clary swallowed the bile that rose in her throat. Her arms had gone limp at her sides, her witchlight had fallen to the floor and gone dark—the light snuffed out the instant it fell from her grasp. Izzy's eyes were the same way. They had lost all of their light—their warmth.

Clary spent far too long rooted in that spot, staring at the person who wore her friend's skin. Long enough for everyone to notice her presence and turn their attention solely on her. Long enough for Clary to finally connect the noises she had heard earlier with Isabelle's current state of undress. Long enough for Clary to have an audience as the little food in her stomach made its second appearance of the day.

Isabelle recoiled from Clary while Jonathan just turned his head in mild disgust. Eona was the only one who offered any help, simply magicking the vomit to some … other place. Clary wished Eona could have taken her embarrassment along with it, or better yet, taken Clary herself.

Trying to regain her composure, Clary set out to do what she had aimed to do when she had originally marched down here. The only way she could do that now was to look anywhere but Izzy.

"You will leave Eona out of this." Clary focused on the warlock, not wanting to falter in front of her brother. "She portaled me down a hallway—a hallway—to avoid you. I couldn't leave this place if I tried. You forbade me, and guess what, it worked. I'm stuck here, with you." Clary dared to look up at Jonathan when she was finished.

As usual, his expression gave nothing away. She wanted to see shock, anger, something, but his face was impassive. "It's clear to me that the two of you have become … close. Now, I can't have my warlock breaking my rules in favor of my sister." Jonathan spared a glance at Isabelle, his mouth curling up into a smile that didn't reach his eyes. Clary didn't need to see that to know it was true. "Thankfully, a solution has presented itself. My dear Isabelle has joined us."

Jonathan turned back to face Clary. "You have a friend, now." He seemed quite pleased with himself, the asshole.

"No. I had a friend … until you made her into something else," Clary spat.

"Now. Now. You'll hurt her feelings. And I must warn you, my shadowhunters do tend to have a temper. So, I suggest you get to work on my runes. I can tell Isabelle not to harm you—and I have—but sadly she is only loyal to a point. She's filled with restless energy." Jonathan stopped to run a finger down Isabelle's neck to her bare shoulder while his eyes never left Clary's. And like a cat, Isabelle curled into his touch, craving him. The implication was obvious, but Jonathan was putting on a show for Clary, daring her to look away, searching for a reaction—a rise—out of her.

Clary, for her part, maintained Jonathan's gaze, even though her eyes turned glassy. What had he done to Isabelle? Proud, headstrong, Isabelle … her friend. Clary fought with everything she had to stop her chin from quivering.

In that moment, she vowed to get Isabelle—the real Isabelle—back. She would do exactly as Jonathan had requested. She would work on her runes—Jonathan's runes and hers. And loyalty rune or not, she would keep them locked away … away from him.

"Eona, Isabelle will need a bed and some clothes. She'll be rooming with my sister from now on."

"Yes, master," Eona had lost all of her defiance. She looked at Clary with eyes that held an apology. It said, I'm sorry I wasn't enough.

"From this point on, Eona, you are forbidden to be in Clarissa's company when I am not present."

And with Jonathan's decree, Clary was alone again in this world. Alone with the shell of someone she once with a person that could very well kill her out of sheer boredom.

It's okay to hate me right now. Trust me, I love Isabelle, but the stakes have to be high ... because this is a war.

I'm thinking that the next chapter might have a little bit of a time jump for both Team Good and Team Evil. Also, it will probably be two weeks before I can update. Just putting that out there right now. For one, I'm not 100% clear on what the next chapter will be content-wise. And I have continuing education to maintain my license due by the end of the month. Yipes.

Anyhow. Tell me what you guys think. Love it or hate it, I still want to know.

:)