A/N: Hey! I know it's been awhile, but College+studying+life=BUSY. I just wanna get my english degree already! Sheesh. So a few things before we begin:

I AM LOOKING FOR SOMEONE TO MAKE ME BANNERS BECAUSE....I WANT SOME FOR THIS STORY!

So, if you're intrested, tell me in your review, or send me a message via livejournal my name there is lauren_wooley. It would be appreciated!

Also, for those of you who've expressed intrest, I am writing a novel and such. I felt like that needed bolding, and also if you're intrested, ill send you a summary or something. This chapter was a difficult one, but then again, all of them seem that way, so I'll just shut up and let you get on with the reading. We meet our villian finally! :D

Guys. 152 reviews. 152. For 5 chapters! At this rate, I feel like I might reach 1,000! AHH! What a thought!

Ok, I'm done now, no really.

"There is trouble." The angel said. His voice was like wind chimes, and thunder. Beautiful, yet ominous and terrifying. Jace and Clary only gaped at the talking paper.

"Holy shit." Jace said, his eyes wide with disbelief.

Clary agreed silently.

***

The room was silent except for the slight ruffling of the angel's wings.

"Holy shit." Jace repeated.

Clary elbowed him hard in the ribs. The angel said nothing, only quirked his head to the left like a confused dog. Clary could feel his eyes on them, though no eye was discernable through the dark pits. Clary thought that his sight must have gone long ago, but he must have some other inhuman sense that replaced it.

"Ithuriel…we thought….I mean…you're, well, dead." Clary said elegantly.

"Angels do not die like you mortals, we are reborn above, but different from our former selves. We are no longer wholly angel."

"Is that why you are able to….present yourself to us now?"

"Yes."

Clary nodded, not knowing what to say. Her brain was scrambling to make sense of what just happened, but seemed to be working in slow motion. Her thoughts weren't especially clear, for a moment she wondered if she should offer him a refreshment. The atmosphere inside the apartment had changed. She could no longer hear the sounds on the street, the room itself had lost it's chilly edge. Her mind flashed back to the night that they had found Ithuriel, imprisoned in her father's makeshift dungeon of mythical creatures.

"What do you mean, 'there is trouble?'" Jace said in a surprisingly calm voice. His shoulders were tense, however. She noticed that his arm had somehow drifted protectively around her shoulders. She hadn't even seen him do it.

"Trouble." The angel repeated, saying no more.

"Care to elaborate?" Jace said, his tone slightly quipped. Clary elbowed him again.

"I cannot reveal all."

"Can you reveal some?"

"What he means," Clary said, feeling the need to jump in, "is that, well, it's not everyday that you have an angel communicate to you through drawings." Jace snorted in agreement. As if he was saying "You think?"

Ithuriel ruffled his wings, his shackles clattered like Marley's ghost. It was extremely eerie. His head shifted more towards Clary--he was addressing her. Or, it appeared that way, at least.

"Your children are in peril."Clary's insides lurched, and she put one hand on her swollen belly. The image of a bloodied Jace from her dream suddenly burst into her mind.

"P-peril?" She stammered, "what do you mean peril?" Jace's hand was almost unbearably tight on her arm. It would leave bruises. She inexplicably felt the need to pull away from him, but resisted.

"I cannot say." Ithuriel repeated.

Jace exhaled sharply, "Is there anything that you can tell us?" He asked, his voice icy.

Ithuriel ruffled his wings, a sign of irritation, Clary guessed.

"I have been sent to give you a message from above."

"Which is?" Clary asked, bewildered.

"Do not let it fall into the wrong hands. Else you will fall."

"That sounds more like a threat." Jace said, his brows furrowed.

"Warning sounds better." Ithuriel replied.

"Of course." Jace said, the muscle in his jaw working furiously. "Is there anything else you'd like to confuse us about?"

The angel was silent for a moment, becoming completely still. Not a feather ruffled. Clary thought that he was finished giving his message and the drawing had gone back to being inanimate. Just as she was about to say something, Ithuriel opened his mouth.

"Many millennia ago, a prophecy was made." He thundered, in his ominous voice, making the hair on the back of Clary's neck stand on end. Jace's hands were icy and slick against her arm. The tenor of the room was frightening. Even the shackles seemed to make terrified little clinking sounds. "The spawn of the Graced will bear powers of the angels themselves. To create and destroy will be theirs."

"Are we the Graced?" Clary asked, feeling more confused by the moment. Ithuriel nodded once.

"You both have the powers of the angels, do you not?" It was a rhetorical question. "Do not let this power fall into the wrong hands. It would be the end." Ithuriel repeated.

"The end of what?" Jace asked, his voice had lost the icy edge. Something cold and desperate had gripped his insides, making it difficult to breathe. Every beat of his heart squeezed painfully beneath his ribcage. His breath hitched on the last word.

"Life as you know it."And then the most profound silence that either Jace or Clary had ever heard descended upon them in a cold swoop. After a prolonged moment, Ithuriel ruffled his birdlike wings, once more, as if moving a final time, before he was forced into an eternity of stillness. The chains rattled, snapping Clary out of her reverie. An audible hum reverberated from the paper.

"Ithur-" but the golden glow of the runes was back, looking white hot against the paper.

"Take heed, humans." He said, then the paper was still, as it had been before.

"Holy shit." Clary said breathlessly.

Jace nodded.

***

"Is it done?"

"Yes, master. The summoning will begin shortly."

"Good. We cannot afford any more….inconsistencies, Calvin."

"I've taken all the precautions, master."

The great warlock eyed his servant with disdain. The man was tall, but slumped over with fear and the weight of his evil deeds. His long, reedy arms followed long, thin fingers that grazed his knees. His head was bald, and shiny, coved in a slick of oil and sweat. His clothes were in tatters. The warlock felt a wave of disgust towards the man. That's how they all were, seeking power that they would never gain. A taste of true freedom, that would never grace their tongues.

"Once we summon it, we must collect the Ichor as quickly as possible, then from there, see if we can convince it to stay."

"How shall we do that, master? Even if we could control it there's not telling what…"

"SILENCE!" The warlock shouted. "There is a specific circle of hell for doubters. If you'd prefer, I could banish you there, now." Shots of crimson electricity crackled between his fingertips, charging the already heavy air. The warlock could hear Calvin's heart speed increase tenfold. He smiled revealing white, pointed teeth. His smile was icy, cold, inhuman. His startlingly green eyes were only emphasized by the vertical pupils. He looked like a cat that had just cornered a mouse.

"N-no, my-my Liege. I do not doubt," Calvin stuttered, tugging at the corner of his ratty shirt. His eyes were glued to the dusty floor, tracing the patterns where the boot prints had created a trail.

"Wonderful!" The warlock clapped his hands together, making Calvin flinch. The warlock showed no response to this, but smiled inwardly. It made him feel powerful to have the possession of fear over others. And ultimately, that's what things came down to. , he would possess all of the magical resources in the Tri-state area. Then after that, the world. It didn't seem so daunting if he took it in baby steps.

Calvin led the way into the ceremonial room. The warlock could smell the fresh lamb's blood on the floor. In the middle of the room, a large circle was painted, complete with star in the middle. Ceremonial candles were placed on each point, everything was ready for the ritual.

In the corner, a large, and old book was placed carefully on a stand. Calvin began to read the demon language, sounding like a pit of angry snakes. The circle began to smoke, and hiss, the curling rings of smoke drifted to the roof, like demonic whispers in the wind. Calvin drew a damp handkerchief out of his pocket and wiped his forehead, not breaking the rhythm of the incantation. His breath was coming out in large puffs. As Calvin approached the end of the spell, flames erupted from the circle, bringing with it the smell of brimstone. He had to shout over the flames, to be heard. They licked their way up to the ceiling. Consuming, but not destroying, the hellfire would burn to the touch, but not harm the building.

The warlock was circling the ring of fire, his lithe steps akin to a dancers. His jaw was set, and his brow furrowed, mentally willing the demon to rise. If it was possible, his eyes would have been burning holes into the fire. After an excruciatingly long minute, the warlock could hear Calvin fall to the floor out of exhaustion. It didn't matter if he died now, the spell was complete. As suddenly as the flames had begun, they stopped. The warlock smiled again, cruel and twisted.

In the middle of the pentagram lay a small, human shaped form, the frame was light, but strong looking. It was framed with baby soft pale hair, and wide, dark of his hands was missing. The warlock found it difficult not to show his excitement.

"Jonathan, how marvelous to see you again."

The demon child locked his dark eyes on the warlocks cat-like ones. He snarled.

"What the hell is going on, Avi? Where is she?" He demanded. The warlock couldn't suppress a chuckle.

"Want to rule the world, kid?"

***

"But that still doesn't explain what he meant by 'don't let it fall into the wrong hands.'" Jace said rubbing his temples. They were sitting at the table, a cup of relaxing tea in front of each. It had been stopped steaming an hour ago. Clary reached out and grabbed her husband's hand, and gave it a gentle squeeze. He looked up at him, his golden curls falling into his eyes. There were dark circles there that hadn't been yesterday. Her other hand traced them with her fingertips. He closed his eyes and sighed into her touch, kissing her wrist and palm.

"You know how much I love you, don't you?" He asked, his voice was raw and vulnerable. In the dark room Clary was strongly reminded of how he looked when he was younger, how tortured he was. "I could do anything, Clary. I can jump 30 feet into the air, I can carry ten times the amount that a normal Shadowhunter could. I'm practically indestructible."

"My, we are humble, arent we?" Clary said laughing slightly. Jace frowned, and pulled her onto his lap. Even when she was sitting there, she was still shorter then him. He tilted her face up to his.

"But the one thing that would deliver the fatal blow to me," he said as if Clary had never spoken, "the one thing would make the world cease to exist, would be if I lost you." His eyes were shining, and Clary gently put her hands on either side of his face, and drew him closer. "Either of you." He sighed into her hair, moving one of his hands on her belly.

"I know." Clary mumbled into his shoulder. He smelled like soap, and Jace. "I know." She said drew her away from him, and held her at arms length.

"I swear on the Angel, I will find whatever threat is out there, and I will destroy it." He said, his eyes fierce. He face took on a lion like quality. If Clary hadn't known bettter, she would have been intimidated by the fierceness.

"No." She said, smiling slightly. "We're going to seek out this threat, and destroy it. Together." She said, narrowing her eyes in challenge, daring him to disagree. Something was nagging her in the back of her brain, why had she felt the urge t resist him earlier? To have him protect held her strong gaze for a moment, then softened his, sighing a little. Clary could have sworn that she hear him curse lightly.

"Yes." He said, looking like he was trying not to roll his eyes. "Together." Clary smiled, and wrapped her arms around his neck, leaving a trail of kisses on it. She could feel him freeze again under her touch, she drew away quickly, frowning.

"Jace, what is it? What's wrong?"He looked glazed over, then looked at her with wide eyes and started slightly, as if just realizing that she was there.

"Jace, what is it? You're scaring me."

"Clary…..did Ithuriel say…" He trailed off.

Clary fought the urge to choke him.

"Did he say children?"

A/N: I know it was kind of short, but the next one will be longer! She's giving it all she's got!

REVIEWS ARE LIKE CRACK....except you dont wake up with strange people in your bed.....