Chapter 3: War on Heaven

"Why would the Angel's Mark be drawn over the dead body of a Shadowhunter?" Clary asked, drawing the towel closer around herself. They were, all of them minus Simon, sitting in the library of the Institute. Both her and Jace were still wet, not yet having changed clothing. Alec lodged in an armchair, his face solemn, while Isabelle fiddled with her long hair.

By now, the crime scene was certain to be swarming with the Shadowhunters of the New York Institute, examining every inch of the alleyway, lifting the mangled body of their fallen comrade. For in the chaos, Clary had not noticed the face of the dead Nephilim until afterwards; it was someone she recognized from the New York Institute, although she had no name to plant with the face. She'd seen him in the training room a few times, had passed him in the hallways, he'd even smiled at her once.

"It's a call to arms," said Jace, his golden eyes as hard as flint. In their depths, Clary saw the burning fire of angels.

Alec sighed. "They're sending us a message," he explained.

"Someone's waging war on Heaven, that's the message," snarled Jace. He was pacing up and down angrily, his limbs coiled with bountiful energy.

"Oh, sit down!" Isabelle shouted, annoyed, "You're giving me a headache."

Jace shot her a look and continued pacing anyways. So Clary quickly intervened before Isabelle's twitching fingers could find the golden whip curled around her arm and use it. "There were demon energies all over the alleyway," she said. "Do you think—"

"It couldn't have been a demon," interrupted Jace.

"What?"

"There's no way a demon could draw a rune, let alone an angel's rune. There must have been a Shadowhunter involved."

An image of a black haired, dark eyed, young man floated into her mind. Clary, we have a connection, he'd said, I feel like you were someone I'd always been waiting for. Clary shuddered as a chill crept up her spine as if she could still feel the ghost of his touch on her cheek. The last time she'd heard that voice, felt those hands, he'd been choking the life out of Alec over Hodge's dead body. "You don't think it could have been Jon—Sebastian do you?" She asked softly.

Jace stiffened, his muscles tensing like a coiled spring. "No," said Isabelle briskly. "He's dead, Jace killed him, he's…very dead." But Jace was looking away from the others, his expression pained.

"Then what?" Clary asked softly, looking at her feet and the damp hem of her torn jeans. She couldn't drive the ghost of her brother's memory from her mind. Suddenly she remembered that glint of white gold that she'd seen on the streets with Simon. And now she recalled what it'd reminded her of: Valentine. It was the exact hair color of Valentine…

Alec sighed and ran one hand through his brown hair. He looked older all of sudden, more mature, when he did that. "Either way its out of our hands. With this death the Clave won't sit back anymore. They'll send reinforcements, conduct an investigation, the funeral's next week—"

Jace exploded, the calm fury that had built up in his body throughout the conversation, burst out in a sudden rush. He turned tail and prowled out of the room, slamming the door a little too loudly behind him. Clary looked after him in stunned silence.

"You'll have to excuse him," said Isabelle sadly, after Alec had chased after Jace. "Jace was close to Kalim. It's hitting him harder than the rest of us."

Clary nodded wordlessly as Isabelle made to follow her brother, leaving Clary alone in the empty library with the ghost of Sebastian hovering in her mind. Without hesitation she picked up her phone and dialed Simon's number. He picked up on the third ring. "Hey," said Clary. "There's something I want to investigate. It's a totally-off-the-record, likely-to-be-dangerous kind of mission. You in?"

Isabelle found the person she least wanted to see, Jacob Riverdale, perched on a counter in the kitchen. He was wearing a tight fitting gray t-shirt that left his marked arms exposed and he had a copy of the Shadowhunter's Codex balanced in his left hand, his right hand gripped firmly around a glass of orange juice. Jacob looked up when she approached, one eyebrow raised curiously as he took in her slightly disheveled appearance. "Hey," he said. He sounded shy, like the kind of boy Isabelle normally overlooked in every other scenario.

"Have you seen my brother?" She demanded impatiently, trying to ignore the way a faded iratze curled perfectly around his bicep.

"Alec?" Jacob asked, frowning. "No, I don't think I did."

Isabelle nodded, about to whirl around and continue searching when her eyes fell on a curious looking dagger belted to Jacob's side. "Is that…?"

Jacob followed her gaze to the weapon at his hip. "Oh this?" He said, putting down his book and pulling the dagger out of its sheath. "It's an old family heirloom. On the surface it looks like a normal dagger." He spun the weapon expertly in his left hand. "But at the push of a button," immediately the dagger burst apart, the two edges of the blade opening like the petals of a deadly flower to form three sharp and extremely lethal looking blades. "Voila! Three daggers for the price of one. Pretty useful when you're trying to trap a demon's claws."

Isabelle whistled. "That looks impressive," she said, her fingers twitched, eager to run her hands along the glossy hilt.

Jacob saw the expression in her eyes and held out the dagger to her, handle first, the blade now retracted into a single point. "Go ahead," he said. "Give it a whirl."

She accepted the dagger, twirling it in her hands to get a feel for its weight. It was heavier than it looked, but she supposed that was because of the extra blade mechanism hidden within. At a touch of her hand, the blade split into its three components. There were runes along the handle that she recognized: runes for speed, swiftness, endurance, even runes that repelled rust.

"Impressive isn't it?" Jacob said, his eyes bright with excitement. "The right one's made of silver, the left one iron, and the middle one of blessed metal."

Isabelle grinned. "You really do have three blades in one." She remarked, feeling the indented lines of the runes in the metal. "Are you any good?" She teased, tossing the blade back. Jacob caught it in his hands as easily as if she'd tossed him a ball.

"Only one way to find out," he replied, cheekily.

Jace only made it halfway to his room before Alec caught up to him. They stood, confrontationally, in the silent halls. The days were getting shorter and shorter into fall and outside the sun was already setting, casting long, dark, shadows through the stained glass windows into the Institute. Alec said nothing while Jace looked adamantly into the darkness at the end of the hallway, his back to him. There had been a time when Jace would have worked his grief and frustrations off by sparring with Alec. A time when (if he turned to anyone at all) Jace turned to Alec first and Alec hardest. They'd both been younger in those days and although Alec would wake up the next day thoroughly sore and bruised, he'd at least have the pleasure of knowing that no one but he could lighten Jace's mood.

Those days were long over.

"I know you'd rather not talk about this," said Alec. "And maybe I would have let you mope before, but things are different now." Although what exactly had changed, Alec couldn't quite put his finger on. Maybe it was he who had changed, grown, and not Jace.

To his great surprise, Jace spoke, and it wasn't the sassy, sarcastic, jab that normally hid deep inner turmoil (by the Angel if Jace wasn't a textbook example of a Byronic Hero) but a soft confession. "Kalim was one of the only ones who…cared after my father died."

"I know," said Alec and he did know. In the years after Jace had arrived at the Institute, a cold, scarred, boy, barely into his double digits, Kalim had been one of the only adults, besides Maryse, Robert, and Hodge, who'd paid Jace any attention at all. It was hard to say that the elder Shadowhunter had been a particularly good influence. Mostly he took Jace out to clubs and let him tag along on the occasional demon hunt. Kalim wasn't as much a brother as a sort of badass older cousin who dropped by from time to time to impart particularly rebellious knowledge. Still Jace hadn't known much of any affection in those days.

Alec turned his head and looked out the window at the darkening streets of the city. "What do you say we go hunting?" He asked. "Just the two of us, it's been a while."

He thought he might have been able to hear the smallest of smiles in Jace's voice. "Demon hunting?"

"Well, I know it's what you really want to do right now…and I reckon you'll go try to get yourself killed whether I come with you or not. So I figure, better to have back-up."

"Alright," Jace turned and the red of the setting sun cast a fiery streak across his face, illuminating his golden hair in a hellish glow. "But," he added, stepping forwards from the half-shadows. The red light faded into the background, leaving Jace looking tired but golden. "Whoever kills the least demons has to do the other's chores for a week."

Alec thought maybe he was being too nice. "Deal."

Simon met Clary on the steps of the Institute and together they walked in a general direction down the street while Clary filled him in on the details of her latest suicidal escapade. "That's ridiculous, absolutely not," said Simon once she'd paused to draw breath. "That sounds even stupider than your let's-all-run-into-a-vampire-coven's-den plan."

Clary frowned. "I seem to recall that that particular idea of mine saved your life."

"And I'm incredibly grateful," said Simon dryly, "but this new plan of yours seems more farfetched than normal. I mean…" He glanced quickly around to make sure no one was following them and dropped his voice to a whisper. "You're sure you didn't imagine seeing Jonathan?"

Clary nodded, her heart leaped into her throat and buried the words within her. "I'm sure," she croaked.

Simon sighed. "Look, Clary, your brother is dangerous. I don't know why you think you should try and confront him."

"He's behind these Shadowhunter killings, I'm sure of it."

"I thought he was dead," mused Simon.

"I don't know how to explain it," Clary replied, "but I have this… feeling in my heart that he's still alive."

"Twin telepathy."

"We're not twins," said Clary. "And I really hope its not telepathy. The last thing I need is Jonathan Morgenstern's voice in my head." She shuddered.

"No one in your family is very good at staying dead." Simon mused, wistfully.

"Are you in or not?" Clary interrupted impatiently. They reached the end of the street and stood waiting for the light to turn green.

"Why didn't you bring this to one of the others?" Simon asked curiously. "I mean wouldn't Jace be a better choice if you're going to hunt someone as dangerous as Sebastian down?"

"I can't bring this to Jace, you know that," whispered Clary. "He's…It'll only bring back painful memories for the rest of them. Besides, I want to be one hundred percent sure before I report this."

"Well, its not like I've got much else to do," muttered Simon sarcastically.

Clary beamed. "So how are things with Maia going?" She asked curiously. The light had finally turned green and they shuffled across the street.

"I don't know," Simon replied. "I'm not really feeling anything."

Clary raised an eyebrow. "You're dating a really hot girl and you don't…feel anything?"

Simon shrugged.

"Maybe you're gay."

"Maybe," Simon said, snorting. "Maia's nice and she's a great friend and all, but I don't know if there's anything more there."

Clary turned suddenly horrified. "You're not…you're not still in love with me, are you?" She asked.

Simon tried not to feel too offended. "No!" He spluttered. "Besides, you've got like, the hottest of boyfriends."

"Don't tell Jace that or his head will get even bigger than it already is."

Simon snorted. "I didn't know it could get any larger." He quipped. This felt nice, joking around with Clary, it felt…normal. Even if things were incredibly far from normal.

Suddenly, Simon stiffened, he could smell a scent in the air that reminded him of sickly sweet decay with a hint of something hard and bitter. Simon wrinkled his nose, just as his sensitive ears picked up the sound of footsteps a ways behind them. He realized how dark it'd gotten and a sudden feeling of unease crept into Simon's heart. He could feel his fangs slide out of their sheaths in anticipation of a fight. "Clary," Simon said softly, his words slightly muffled by his teeth. She spun around, her smile fading when she saw his face, saw the white gleam of his teeth in the moonlight.

"What's wrong?" She asked anxiously.

"I think that suicidal plan of yours found us." Simon said.

And sure enough, striding casually down the street towards them, as if he had all the time in the world, was Sebastian.

A/N

A few things:

Shoutout to Beth, my wonderful reviewer, who actually motivated me to start writing this again. :) speaking of which...do you guys prefer frequent but crappy updates or infrequent but quality updates? because I have a strict policy of not updating unless its at least vaguely polished. and one of my criteria for polished is a minimum of 6 pages on word. This chapter actually breaks that rule (its like 4 pages) but when I checked the word count this actually had more words than my previous chapters...and it did end in a nice place so I thought, what the heck why not?

Let me clarify a few things:

So here's the part in the story where all the characters split up and have their own little adventures that ultimately all connect to the main plot (but they don't know that until the end). I noticed that's something Cassandra Clare does in her stories. And Alec and Jace are paired for their little adventure! :) I love those two...they should really have more interaction in the actual novel...because I mean, even though they're parabatai...they don't ever hang out and have crazy adventures together in the real books! (FYI Alec calls Jace a "Byronic Hero" which for those of you who don't know is a type of character in literature. These characters are male, sexually attractive, powerful, intelligent, but socially they isolate themselves because of something traumatic that happened in their past. It really describes Jace almost perfectly, so I thought I'd include that little tidbit).

I hope you guys aren't too upset that I included an OC. I totally understand, (I'm not a big fan of OC's either) but I hope you'll give Jacob a chance! I'll try to make him have as little overall impact as possible because I really do believe in sticking to canon. but I needed Jacob to propel the plot forwards, give Izzy some character development, and a plot so she'd have something to do while everyone else saves the world and stuff. If any of you know a little bit about the history of the name Jacob you could probably guess what's going to happen with him, .

And finally, I recently wrote a ClaryXJace AU oneshot called Ever and I would love it if you guys took a look at that. :D Thanks for reading!