CHAPTER 1 – The Bright Night

"Hey Clary, are you ready to go?" Lillian knocked on the door impatiently. "Clary?" There was no answer, so she just pushed her way inside. Clary was nowhere in sight, but she could hear the shower running.

Her little sister's bedroom was plastered with drawings. Her sketchbooks were arranged neatly in a row on a shelf, her current one, only half-filled, sitting on her desk. Ignoring what Lillian considered to be obnoxiously orange paint – how Clary slept with walls in such a bright colour, she'd never know – she made her way across the room.

The sketchbook was lying open, displaying a heavy graphite drawing of the city skyline. This is really good, she thought with a hint of pride. Lillian looked up through the window above the desk, where the only view was of the red brick of the next apartment over. And night was falling, a hazy dusk settling over the city, making even that difficult to see. She glanced back down at the sketch, wondering, not for the first time, how Clary came up with this stuff.

And that's why I'm not an artist, she thought, shrugging. It didn't bother her. She liked her mother's and sister's art, but was content to express herself through different mediums.

"Hey!" The protesting cry made Lillian turn, and she found that Clary was finished her shower. Her pale, small-framed body was wrapped tightly in a towel, fiery red hair darkened by dampness.

Lillian had been around 12 years old when she'd first questioned their difference in appearances. In contrast to Clary's redheaded-ness, fully freckled and green-eyed, Lillian had wavy dark chestnut brown hair that was almost black and startlingly blue eyes against her olive skin tone. Different fathers, Jocelyn had explained, leaving it at that. And while Clary had that picture of her dad on the mantel above the fireplace, there was no record of Lillian's father anywhere in the apartment. Now that she'd grown older, Lillian didn't bother asking; she'd learned enough of failed relationships, and Jocelyn had always been hesitant to talk about it. Besides, Lillian couldn't remember him, which meant he hadn't stuck around for long. Now the only man in the Fray family was Luke Garroway, a long time friend.

Clary was frowning in annoyance. "Get out of my room!" she said, scowling as she stalked over and flipped her sketchbook shut.

"Okay, I'm going, I'm going," Lillian said, backing out. "Just hurry it up, okay? I want to go. Move that petite little behind." Clary rolled her eyes, nearly closing the door in her face. Lillian started walking away, and a second later there was another knocking from down the hall.

"Lover boy's here!" Lillian shouted as she snatched her keys off the hook in the entrance.

"Shut up!" Clary called from her room. Lillian grinned to herself. She loved her little sis, but sometimes she was so much fun to tease. The smirk was still on Lillian's face when she opened the front door.

"Hey Simon," she said, stepping back to let him in.

"Hi Lily," he replied. "What's up?"

"Not much," Lillian said. "Clary's just getting dressed."

"Okay, I'll wait," he replied. Clary rushed in a few minutes later. Lillian watched as Simon's eyes went to her instantly. For a girl who could see so much in the world to draw, Clary missed some of the things right in front of her face. Lillian had brought it up once and Clary had adamantly denied anything but friendship between her and Simon. But how could she not see?

Anyway, Lillian liked Simon, so she wouldn't have a problem if – when – Clary dated him.

"Ready?" Lily asked, hiking her canvas messenger bag higher up on her shoulder.

"Yeah," Clary said, shoving her feet into her shoes.

"Bye Mom!" the sisters called in unison, hearing Jocelyn's muffled reply from the studio. Then the three of them shuffled out and down the hall, Lillian locking the door behind them.

"Let's go," Lily said, waving Clary and Simon forward. She glanced at her watch as they clattered down the stairs. Shit, I'm going to be late. The exited the building and piled into Lily's car, parked at the side of the building.

Lillian weaved in and out of the evening traffic. The city lights glowed eerily orange against the low-hanging clouds. They called New York the city that never sleeps; but Lillian knew that despite all the light, a certain darkness existed. Somehow, she'd always known.

She pulled up to the curb in front of the club. It was all ages, a place called Pandemonium. Lillian knew Clary liked it, and of course Simon went along with her. Lillian didn't mind Pandemonium–she'd been there a few times with some friends–but it gave her a strange vibe, like there was that darkness lurking beneath the surface.

"Thanks for driving us, Lily," Clary said.

"No problem," Lillian replied, meeting Clary's eyes for a moment in the review mirror. "I'll be back to pick you up at midnight."

As Clary and Simon climbed out of the car and called goodbye, a sliver of unease snaked through Lillian. She shook it off, glancing at the tiny clock on the dashboard again and hastily pulling away from the curb.

What Lillian happened to be late for was a martial arts class. Her fascination with martial arts had begun a while ago, around grade seven or eight when she was just 14 years old and a presentation had been held in the school gym. It hadn't been until grade nine when she'd finally acted on it, after gaining her new-found independence that came with graduating to high school. And after walking by Brooklyn Martial Arts Studio every day for a month on the way to school.

She still hadn't told Jocelyn.

Some instinct told her learning self-defence and methods of attack was not an extra-curricular activity her mother would approve of. It had been Lillian's little secret for three years running. Faking the signatures for the forms to sign up was easy, and coming up with the money only a smidge more difficult. Lillian remembered skipping lunch for three weeks before she had enough allowance to pay for it.

Since then Lillian had made friends with the owner of the studio and dabbled in a lot of different martial arts styles. Money stopped becoming a problem the moment she was hired. It was the perfect job, doing what she loved. Hiding it was hard sometimes, but Lillian always managed. It was easiest now because it was summer: she wasn't forced to work around a school schedule and dodge too many questions.

She pushed through the glass doors, her bag bumping against her thigh with each step. It was stuffed to the brim with her workout clothes and sparring equipment. She had an adult beginner class in tai chi to teach and then Josh had promised to show her something new, this thing called parkour.

She hummed a sweet, wordless melody as she changed quickly, another instructor walking in when she was almost done.

"Hey Erica, how are you?" Lillian asked, smiling at her. She liked her co-workers and got along with them all.

"Sweaty," the older girl replied, smiling back. "I just gave a private karate lesson." Lillian nodded, shoving her bag in her locker just as Erica was taking her stuff out. Lillian adjusted the strap of her sports bra before pulling her purple cotton tank top over her head. She'd had to start strapping down her boobs to play sports when she was fifteen, but she liked her curves, aside from the occasional minor inconvenience. She was tall enough that she didn't look too plump.

"See you later, Lily!" Erica said as she finished changing and waved goodbye.

"Bye!" Lillian replied. Giving herself one last critical glance in the mirror, she rolled up the waistband of her baggy sweatpants one more time before padding out of the change room barefoot, throwing her hair up into a pony tail swiftly as she got to her room. Josh was there, packing away kickboxing gloves.

"Hey Josh," she greeted him as she went to squat down on the floor beside the stereo that sat at the front of the room at the edge of the big mirrored wall and sift through the pile of CDs.

"Hey Lily," he said, looking up with a warm smile. His shaggy, dark brown hair was close to falling in his pale, blue-grey eyes. "You still want to stick around after your class?"

"For sure," she replied. He was a nice guy and she'd gotten to know him well in the past few months since he'd joined the team at the studio. He'd taught her a few kickboxing moves, which was what he specialized in. She watched his muscles move as he stood. Definitely attractive, and carries himself like he doesn't even know it. Yes, she would stick around.

"Trust me, you're going to love this," he said, walking by and reaching down to ruffle her hair. "Parkour is a lot of fun."

"You'll have to show me," she said teasingly, meeting his eyes in the mirror with a flirty grin. He grinned back.

"You bet," he said, just as the first person in her class walked in. "See you later, Lily," he said.

"See you, Josh," she said, pulling a CD out of its case and sliding it into the stereo and refocusing on the session ahead. Then she turned with a smile and started saying hello.

An hour later the women filed out of the room and Lillian reached to turn off the stereo, cutting the music short. She was just finishing rolling up the stretching mats when Josh walked in. It was almost ten o'clock, and all the other classes had long since finished. They were the last ones in the studio.

"Why don't we warm up with some light sparring?" he suggested, grabbing gloves and a pad. Lillian quickly got into the motions, muscle memory kicking in, and Josh started bracing himself against her blows.

"Light sparring," he grunted as she hit the pad with a particularly strong right jab.

"Sorry," Lily said concernedly, stepping back and dropping her fists sheepishly. "I wasn't hitting that hard, was I?"

"Don't know your own strength, do you?" Josh replied with a question, smiling a bit and shaking his head.

"I guess not," Lillian murmured. It wasn't the first time someone had commented her on her strength. She wasn't a particularly violent person, but it felt good to work her body. That was probably why she'd tried so many different martial arts.

"Okay, I'm going to show you the basics now…" Parkour turned out to be a kind of running where the runner uses their surroundings to pull stunts, jumping and bouncing of off things in increasing levels of sophistication and risk. It didn't have specific rules or positions, just free-flowing movement, Lillian's favourite.

Time slipped by as Josh showed her how to front flip, then back flip. She learned quickly, smooth as a dancer. But along with the passing time came the sluice of unease again, washing through Lillian and curling in her stomach, ruining her good time with Josh. She was in the middle of a back bend and determinedly trying to ignore the feeling when her phone rang from her bag. She'd gotten her bag out of the locker room when her class had ended, and now it sat in the corner.

"Sorry," she said apologetically to Josh as she pulled it out to answer. "Hello?"

"Lily?" Clary's voice cut through the line, crackling with background noise, sounding metallic and off.

"Clary?" Lillian said, sharp with concern blooming from her unease. "Are you okay?"

"I-I'm fine," Clary said. "But can you come pick us up?" She sounds shaken, Lillian realized.

"Yeah, I'll be right there," she said reassuringly. "Wait for me near the doors."

"Okay."

Lillian snapped her phone shut and tossed it into her bag.

"I'm so sorry Josh," she said. "But I have to go." She pulled on her socks hastily. "Do you think you could lock up for me?" He nodded.

"That sounded urgent," he said. "Go."

"My little sister," Lillian clarified, and after a second's hesitation, threw herself in for a swift hug that he returned. "Thanks so much for staying late with me," she said. "I'm really sorry about this. Hopefully another time you can show me some more."

"For sure," he said, smiling a little. He opened his mouth to say something more, but she was already shoving her feet into her shoes, not even bothering to put on her jacket, the uneasy feeling spurring her forward.

"Bye Josh!" she called as she took off down the hall, his reply fading fast behind her. She burst out onto the street, her bag bumping against her leg and making her feel slow and unwieldy. She chucked her bag in the back seat of her car, twisting the key in the ignition and throwing it into drive. She peeled out of the parking lot, desperately trying to calm her pounding heart with deep breaths, forcing herself to slow down and not get impatient with the traffic choking the streets. Why the hell do I feel so agitated about this? There had been something in Clary's voice, and some instinct in her that told her something wasn't right–

She pulled up to Pandemonium with a screech, flinging herself out of the car, ready to burst into the club when she stopped short. Clary stood only a short distance away, Simon in front of her. Lillian surged forward, pushing past Simon.

"Clary," she said, breathless, grabbing her by the shoulders. "Are you all right?" Clary's face was white, her eyes wide. Then she blinked and nodded.

"I'm fine Lily," she said, shaking her hands off. Simon shot Clary a look behind Lillian's back that Clary ignored. Lillian stepped back, feeling foolish. Clary is fine. Of course she's fine. Lillian had totally over-reacted. The feeling had subsided, sliding away. Lily could breath easy again.

"Are you sure?" she asked, just to be sure. Clary looked away, a weary sigh leaving her.

"Yes," she insisted. "Can we just go home?"

"Okay," Lillian said quietly. "Let's go." They all got into the car, and Lillian could hear Clary exchange a few whispered words with Simon before silence fell.

Lillian turned back onto the street, and the three of them took off into the bright night.