***************** Chapter 1 *******************

Why am I here?

Jonathan asked himself as he stood in front of an old building. The building wasn't as tall as the others he had seen but was still tall by his standards. It was only three stories and had an old world charm to it. Jonathan didn't know what possessed his father to bring him here to New York City. There were no trees or flowers and the city stunk. It was loud and filled with tons of wondering eyes. A small shiver ran up the white haired boys spine as a man walked passed him; almost colliding with him. He knew the man was a mundane and couldn't see him but the idea of being surrounded by people scared him. He was used to being alone and in hiding. His father had told him at a young age that hiding was important. That if anyone found them they both would be killed. It was that same man who brought him to this loud dirty city today.

Jonathan's father stood behind him silently admiring the building before them. He looked tense and very serious. More serious than he normally looked. However, there was an emotion in his father's eyes that was not normally present; fear. Whatever they were doing here in New York it was important and Jonathan knew better than to disobey his father's wishes; especially if he didn't want another beating.

"Jonathan," his father whispered to him.

Jonathan looked up to his father in response.

"I want you to go up the stairs to the third floor and knock on the door with the number 302 on it."

Jonathan looked at his father confused. He had assumed that his father had made him tag along in order to watch how he handled business. He thought it was another one of his father's attempts to 'teach' him. He wanted to ask him why but knew better.

"What do I say when they answer the door father?" he asked meekly instead.

Valentine looked down at his son impassively. He seemed to think for a moment before a smile came over his face.

"Say that you are looking for your mother my son." Valentine replied wickedly.

Jonathan looked up at his father in complete shock. His father had told him that his mother had left when he was born. She had left them because of Jonathan; because he was a monster. Valentine in turn told him that his mother was a disgrace and refused to talk much about her after that. Why would he seek her out now and why would she want to see him of all people? He opened his mouth to ask these questions but was silenced when his father nudged him forward sternly.

His feet lead him through the apartment entrance before his mind could protest. He knew better than to defy orders. It had been ingrained in him from an early age not to question his father. If he didn't do what he was told there would be consequences; grave consequences. With his mind elsewhere Jonathan quickly reached the third floor before he knew it. A part of him was curious as to what his mother would look like. Was she really here or was his father trying to trick one of his followers into submission again? Regardless he stood outside in front of a solid wood door with the numbers 302 on it. He stood for a movement eyeing the door and not moving. After a moment a movement caught his attention out of the corner of his eye.

His father was standing there in the shadows down the hall; watching him. His eyes piercing with apprehension and anger. Jonathan raised his arm and knocked on the door immediately. It was silent and then he heard some shuffling behind the door. A part of him was hoping that whoever was in there hadn't heard his soft knock. His hopes were short lived when he heard soft breathing coming directly from behind the door.

"Simon?" a soft voice asked.

"Uh..." he hesitated.

Apparently that was enough for the person because the next thing he heard was the lock. The door opened slowly revealing a little girl with long red hair and bright green eyes. She looked like she was five or six years old; just a few years younger than himself. The girl stopped and looked at him curiously. Jonathan couldn't help but to return the sentiment. This was the first female besides the servants that he laid eyes on. He had never met someone closer to his age before. She was so small and petite but beautiful all the same. She was obviously not his mother.

"Hello!" she announced cheerily.

"I'm Clary, who are you?" she smiled. He had never seen someone so happy and carefree before. There was no fear in her eyes at all; despite the face she was addressing a complete stranger. He saw his father's jaw drop from across the hall. Clearly he wasn't expecting the little girl to be here either. Jonathan smiled at that.

"My name is Jonathan Morgenstern and I'm looking for my mother." He replied.

Her eyebrows rose in question as her soft lips formed a disappointed pout.

"I don't know who your mother is but maybe my mommy could help you when she gets out of the shower."

Jonathan took in a deep breath as he saw his father point to the girl and motion for him to bring her to him. Jonathan looked at the girl once more and stood still. He didn't want to hurt the girl. She seemed familiar to him for some reason and he wanted to protect her; but orders are orders. Maybe if he took the girl he would get to learn more about her.

"Will you help me look for her?" he asked Clary gesturing to the building.

Clary's smile disappeared as she played with her hair nervously.

"I'm sorry but I can't. I am not allowed to leave the apartment. I promised mommy I would never leave without her permission. I am not supposed to even open the door but I thought you were my friend Simon."

Jonathan frowned. He couldn't help but feel jealous over this Simon boy. He wanted to be the girl's friend. Then again he was trying to take her to his father. He sighed reluctantly. Jonathan really didn't want to take her by force.

"Hey!" she said happily reaching out to grab his hand. Jonathan jumped at the contact.

"Don't be sad. Come in and play with me till my mom gets out of the shower. Then she can help us look. She will know what to do!" Clary stated happily.

The little red head pulled him into the apartment before he could protest. He saw his father expression for a brief moment before the door shut. His father motioned for him to go inside and Jonathan couldn't help but feel a little relieved at this. At least he wouldn't get beaten for not following orders again.

Clary led him to the small kitchen table that was littered with papers and painting supplies. He had seen these things before but was never allowed to play with them. They were his mothers and his father kept them in the cupboard in his office. He knew that the art supplies had been his mothers. Father kept a lot of his mother's things come to think of it.

"Let's paint!" Clary announced pulling Jonathan into the chair beside her. She had to set up everything before taking a seat in her own chair. Clary had to sit on her knees to see over the table. Jonathan was taller and didn't have to resort to such measures. Jonathan smiled watching the young girl trying to paint.

"What do I do?" he asked.

She looked at him dumbfounded.

"Haven't you ever painted before?" she asked innocently.

"No," he replied a little shortly.

Not everyone was raised with a parent who actually loved them. Then again what would she or anyone know about that. Clary didn't seem to catch the shortness. She put a piece of paper, a cup of water, and some paints in front of him. Then she placed a worn paintbrush into his hand. He jumped as her small fingers wrapped softly around his.

"It's easy Jonathan. I'll show you." She smiled and dipped his paintbrush into some red paint. Then she guided his hand with the brush making loops and swirls on the blank paper.

"See," she said when she was finished. "We made a flower."

Jonathan didn't know what to think. The drawing did look like a flower but flowers didn't interest him in the slightest. He looked at the picture inquisitively. The bright red did reminded him of the blood he saw coming out of the animals he killed when he went out hunting with his father though. He decided that he would paint that.

"Now you can try all by yourself." She said as she released his hand and took the chair beside him.

He started painting a picture of his father and him hunting deer in the forest by his house. The picture was awful but something about it calmed him. The two children painted for a good ten minutes while Clary asked him questions about himself. Most of the questions he couldn't answer since he had never watched T.V, played a video game, whatever that was or seen a Disney movie. Despite all of that he still felt connected to the girl sitting next to him. Jonathan had been quite relaxed until he heard the water turn off from the bathroom.

"Oh yay! My mom is out of the shower!" Clary spoke.

Jonathan's body twitched and he inveterately snapped the wooden paintbrush in his hand in half. Blood started dripping down his hand and onto the paper; but he didn't flinch. He had been cut, beaten, and hurt so many times in his life that the pain didn't bother him. Jonathan had learned early on that crying or showing emotion would just bring on another beating from his father. That is why Clary's reaction shocked him so much.

"Oh Jonathan!" she cried grabbing his hand.

"Are you okay? I'll go get a paper towel!" she rushed down and began franticly running to the kitchen as if a gash on his hand was a life or death situation.

Jonathan just sat quietly in awe of her. Why was she acting like he was seriously hurt. It was just a cut, it wasn't like he was dying or anything. Though liked how she cared about him. Clary came back into the dining room with a giant supply of wet paper towels. She grabbed his hand and began cleaning the cut gently. When the bleeding finally stopped she moved his injured hand to her lips and did something that made Jonathan gasp. She kissed his hand softly, while looking up into his eyes.

"There! A kiss to make it all better. Are you okay now Jonathan?" she asked sweetly.

His body felt paralyzed and all he could do was look into her beautiful green eyes. He could get lost in those beautiful eyes filled with nothing but love. No one had ever shown him so much kindness before. Yet, this girl was showing a complete stranger more kindness in these last twenty minutes than he had been given in his entire life.

"Clary-"he began but was interrupted by Clary's mother's call.

"Clarissa! Where are you honey?" Her mother called out affectionately.

"I'm in here mom!" She called back.

"What are you doing?" He could hear relief in her mother's voice after her daughters reply.

"I'm in the dining room painting with my new friend Jonathan." She yelled back.

"Jonathan? Is that the name of your new imaginary friend?" her mother asked cleaning up the movies littered on the ground in the living room.

"No mom this friend is real. His name is Jonathan uh…" she hesitated.

"What was your last name again?" she asked him.

"Morgenstern." He answered clearly and a little loudly.

Jocelyn obviously heard him and ran to the dining room knocking something over loudly in her wake. Clary was still holding Jonathan's hand when her mother rushed into the room. Clary's mother was beautiful just like her. She had long dark red hair, creamy skin, and beautiful green eyes. The women stopped frozen in her tracks when her eyes fell upon Jonathan.

She looked at him with a painful expression mixed with love and hate. He couldn't figure out what he did that upset her so much. Clary's mother was silent for a moment before tears started to well up in her eyes.

"Mommy, what is wrong?" Clary asked her worryingly. This seemed to jar Jocelyn out of her thoughts.

"Clary come here." She commanded. Clary just looked at her and didn't budge.

"But mommy, I have to get Jonathan a band aid. He cut his hand on the paintbrush and he was bleeding pretty badly." She replied stubbornly.

Jocelyn sighed and came closer looking around the room frantically. She took Jonathan's injured hand in hers and examined the cut. Her touch made him shutter. She noticed his reaction and a look of pity crossed her face. He didn't want her pity but he knew better than to act out against an adults wishes. Clary ran to the cupboard by the table to grab a Band-Aid.

"You did cut yourself pretty badly Jonathan but it is healing quickly now." She kissed his cut lovingly and looked up into his eyes. He couldn't speak so he just nodded.

"Where is your father Jonathan? Where is Valentine?" she asked directly.

"Mommy Jonathan is looking for his mother not his father." Clary spoke out.

Jonathan looked up into Jocelyn's face. He never got a chance to answer because at that moment they heard a sharp intake of breath from across the room. Both Jocelynn and Jonathan's heads snapped in the direction of the sound only to see Valentine standing in the archway of the room with a startled Clary locked in his arms. Jocelyn eyes squinted in fury.

"Let go of my daughter Valentine." She hissed.

Valentine just smirked and held Clary closer to his chest. Clary obviously didn't understand what was going on. She just stood silently trying to take everything in.

"That's it Jocelyn? After all of these years. No hug, kiss, or even so much as a hello? I am your husband after all?" He grinned wickedly.

"Ex-husband," she corrected. "I would think burning down my parent's home and killing them would be grounds for divorce." She spat.

"You betrayed your husband and left your son. I consider us even." He replied.

"I thought you were dead! Besides, you turned our son into a monster! I left before you could do that again to our daughter! Now get your hands off of her!" she spat at him while placing her arm protectively on Jonathan's shoulder.

Jonathan had never really ever seen his father surprised or caught off guard. Valentine was a very calculated man but at that moment he looked completely stupefied. Clary was still too young to process what was going on but Jonathan wasn't. Jocelyn was obviously his mother which meant that Clary was his sister. He had a sister! The sweet beautiful girl who was so kind to him was his sister. Normally he would have hated having to share his father's attention with anyone else especially the other Jonathan but this was different. She was HIS sister by blood. She belonged to him! This realization made him happier beyond words.

Valentine looked down at the red headed girl locked in his arms. As is on cue she looked back up at him curiously. He studied her face intently taking in every detail. The girl was the spitting image of her mother but there were also characteristics that were his. She had his high cheek bones and stubborn character. He heard how she refused to obey her mother's commands earlier.

"You mean she is not … Lucians?" Valentine asked.

"No," Jocelyn's mother replied begrudgingly.

He continued to look down at Clary. Trying to take everything about her in. He had a daughter. He had missed many years of her life and at that moment Valentine decided that he wouldn't be missing anymore. A minuet passed before Clary grew bored of his staring.

"Is your name really Valentine?" she asked him curiously.

"Yes." He whispered.

"That is a really funny name." she stated.

Jonathan held back a laugh as he watched his father's reaction. Jocelyn's body tensed.

"It is a very old name my dear." He replied courtly.

Clary looked unfazed. A stranger in her house, holding her in his arms, and making her mother upset obviously didn't seem to faze her. The Morgenstern stubbornness defiantly ran through her veins.

"Are you my friend Jonathan's daddy?" she asked bluntly.

"Yes, and I am also your daddy darling." He answered sweetly caressing her face.

"Leave her out of this!" Jocelyn spoke. "You didn't come here for us, you came for the cup! Let Clary go!"

"Did it ever occur to you my love that I came for both? Though I think finding out I had a daughter is better than even finding the mortal cup." He grinned wickedly.

"I think your son is a testament to the fact that you care more about your mission than your friends or family."

Valentine looked up at his Jocelyn sweetly. Though she wasn't followed. She knew that her ex-husband had a knack for creating a perfect mask.

"People change my darling. I finally found you and our daughter and you know me better than to think I would let either of you go again." He spoke crossly.

Jocelyn started backing up. She knew that she had little chance of escape now. The best thing to do would be trying to reach the potion and blade she had hidden in the bathroom. She had backed up two feet when she felt a sharp blade placed against her throat. One of her ex-husbands henchmen had obviously been hiding behind her. She failed again.

"Mommy?" Clary began to struggle in her father's arms but Valentine held her firmly.

"It is alright my daughter. Mommy is going to be just fine. She is going to come home with you, your brother and I. We are going to be a family again." He spoke soothingly kissing her on the head.

That was the last thing Jonathan's mother heard or saw before his father's servant hit her upside the head; knocking her out cold.