Clary hummed tunelessly to herself as she straightened up her art supplies and got ready to settle in for a long, relaxing drawing session. She was feeling better already, as drawing always did, and she knew that by the time Jace came home, she'd be have it ready for him. She had been trying to draw him something she knew he'd love and had drawn many sketchy outlines before finally settling on the one she was starting. Before she sat down, however, she went into the kitchen, small but clean. She loved her and Jace's little abode, no matter how dingy it looked to an outsider. It was all they could afford, and all that really mattered was that it was theirs to call their own. She smiled to herself at the view she had every morning of Jace, making breakfast for them both, shirtless, with the light surrounding his golden hair like a halo. Yes, she thought, she wouldn't change her home for the world.

Before she could get to the sink for a glass of water, always needed before a drawing session, the phone rang in short bursts, piercing the silence she was so used to. She jumped but ran to the phone to pick it up before it stopped ringing, something which often happened. She answered, lazily saying, "Hello?"

There was no response from the caller, so she repeated herself. In return, she was rewarded with heavy breathing down the line, loud and consistent. Clary frowned and said, "Hello?" for the last time, before hanging up. She shrugged and put it down to a wrong number, and by the time she sat down, it was already forgotten about.

Jace stuck his key in the stiff lock to their apartment door, already being hit with mouth watering aroma's from the kitchen. He smiled to himself and called out, "I'm home, baby." He walked into the kitchen, jingling his keys as he walked and saw Clary bending forward to reach the plates. She heard him approaching, and turned for a long, lingering kiss.

"Hi." she said, smiling up at him.

"What're you making? Smells love-" Jace started, but before he could continue his sentence, a loud smash of glass was heard, causing both to turn in alarm. Jace whispered a frantic, "Stay behind me." to Clary, and made his way to their bedroom, where it came from.

He flung open the door, ready to disturb any intruder that may have made their way in. However, the dark room was empty and everything seemed in its place, apart from a single brick and broken glass, leading them to believe someone had thrown it in the room.

"Why would someone do that?" Clary asked Jace, the quiet room making her speak in a hushed voice.

Jace walked forward and inspected the brick. "I'm sure it was just kids. Don't worry about it sweet, I'll get it sorted while you get dinner ready."

Clary kissed him again lightly. "My protector." she said semi sarcastically, unable to hide the gratitude in her voice and walked off to the kitchen.

Her retreating form was the last Jace would see of her.

Clary retrieved the drawing from behind the plates where she had stashed it so Jace wouldn't see. She looked it over once again, satisfied with what she saw and knew it was ready to give to him. She felt a warm form behind her, so she held the drawing in her hands, ready to surprise Jace with it. The person behind her put their hands over her eyes, and she turned, laughing, wondering why Jace was in such a playful mood that day. Before she could say anything, she felt a damp cloth pressed against her mouth and nose, forcing her to breathe in the chemical fumes she could smell coming from it.

She struggled and kicked out, it finally dawning on her that this was not her Jace, but rather a dangerous, unknown stranger. She tried to scream but was unable to with her mouth covered, and knocked over a plate in the process. She heard the smash before falling limp against the stranger, her last muffled words being Jace's name and her pleads for his help.

Jace was finally done with covering the window, using a spare piece of wood they had kept. The drilling was noisy, meaning he had to wear ear mufflers. He checked his watch and saw with surprise that 30 minutes had passed, and wondered why Clary hadn't come to see what was keeping him so long, or to complain about dinner getting cold as she normally did. He dusted his hands off his trousers and opened the bedroom door and walked towards the kitchen.

Instantly, he knew something was amiss. It was deathly silent, with no usual sounds of Clary humming or banging pots and pans to be heard. The passage was dark, which was normal, but suddenly felt sinister to Jace. He called out Clary's name, wondering if she had given up waiting for him and dined alone. There was no answer.

He finally made it to the kitchen, his worry building and peaking when he saw it was empty. There was evidence of a struggle, with a smashed plate on the floor and a boiled over pan still on the hob. He ran to turn it off, and turned to look at the mess the kitchen was left it. He knew Clary would never leave it in such a mess by choice.

Suddenly overcome with energy, Jace ran into every room looking for Clary, shouting her name all the while. It didn't take long to search the apartment, but Jace immediately came to the conclusion that she wasn't there. He ended up back in the kitchen, looking at where she so usually stood. A gentle breeze came in through the open window, causing a white flutter in Jace's peripheral vision. He looked down and saw a stiff piece of paper and bent down to pick it up. On it, was a beautifully drawn portrait of Clary and himself. Instantly, he knew it was her own work. It was unmistakable. The fine lines and strokes could only have been done by her.

What was not done by her, however, were the harsh, red lines crossing out Jace's own face, a striking contrast to the rest of the delicately drawn picture.

Jace didn't know where his wife was, but he knew that something was very, very wrong.

New story for you all! Please remember to check out my other stories and review! They motivate me to write SO much and I love reading what you think about it. Thanks for reading!