"What would an ocean be without a monster lurking in the dark? It would be like sleep without dreams."
―Werner Herzog

Chapter One

The stone was smooth beneath her feet, a substance similar to marble in both texture and colour, the bright white as pure as freshly fallen snow. She'd always loved when it snowed, how the drab greys and browns of the city were concealed beneath it, how much more peaceful it seemed in those early mornings before they cleared the roads and people left their homes to mar the whiteness. Everything seemed fresher in the snow, simpler, almost, as if the world had begun anew. (Like the ash after a fire that burned burned burned bright like a star a star in the morni-)

She shivered, but it wasn't from the cold. The warm breeze was pleasant, ruffling her short hair and brushing across her bare skin. It was gentle, as if conscious of the effects its biting winds could evoke, the danger of its element on the small human standing so close to the edge. Balanced there, it would take but the lightest of taps to send her over stone rim, and down, down into the inky black depths presented to her beyond her small platform.

The question was; did she want to fall?

Looking down into the abyss below, she contemplated her answer. It should've been obvious. The fear was natural; it was that fear which kept her and her fellow humans alive. The fear of pain, the fear of death, the fear of the unknown. No one wanted to die, not really. They may wish for an escape, for an end to the pain they were feeling, but never truly did they wish for death itself to claim them. They did not die for the sake of death, they'd died for life, as ironic as that sounded. But she wasn't afraid, not in the slightest.

She didn't want to die. She knew that, knew that she could never welcome death with open arms and a defeated slump. No, she'd fight it every step of the way, struggle and bite and scream; do anything to free herself as she clutched to life. It just seemed- wrong, to her, to give up, no matter what had happened or would happen. Perhaps that was naïve of her, but better naïve than dead. Better stubborn than defeated, foolish than useless.

But then why did she want nothing more than to take that last step out, to lean forward and let herself fall?

(Is it really falling when there's no ground to meet you?)

An obnoxious ringing suddenly filled the air, causing it to shiver like a mirage, and as her dream world fell away Anna blinked open her dark green eyes. Her chin rested upon her palm, elbow pushing down almost painfully on the desk beneath the weight of her head, the papers that had been neatly piled upon it spread into a disarray. And etched on each piece of paper were almost identical images, repeating in varying levels of detail and tone, but unmistakably connected.

Wings, spread wide in preparation for flight. Some were powerful like those of an eagle, others a smaller bird species, delicate and light, and a few in their graceful curves would've looked at home on a swan. However, each set of wings were connected to the back of a human. Most sprouted naturally, as if the person had been born with the appendages. A few, these darker and harsher, were stitched painfully to the model, blood flowing freely down their back, or hung broken and torn. In every one only the back was visible, the differing of gender less obvious but still apparent. The pictures were beautiful in a tragic sort of way; they were not angels, only humans who wished to be.

Anna shook her head, as if to dislodge her strange thoughts. She sighed and straightened in her chair, wincing as her spine cracked, neck aching due to the awkward position it had been held in for however long she'd been asleep. She glanced at the watch strapped around her wrist, noting that she'd only drifted off for a couple of hours.

She supposed it didn't matter too much; it wasn't like she had anything else arranged to do today, and she really did need the sleep, seeing how she'd involuntarily become a bit of an insomniac lately. Subconsciously, her head tilted to the side. Does anyone become an insomniac voluntarily? She wondered, idly pushing the drawings back into a pile. I suppose some people do; workaholics, people who stay out all night partying and have to go to school or work in the morning, maybe if you're obsessed with your laptop or watching TV or something. I'm relatively sure psychosis can cause insomnia also, as well as some other mental disorders-

The same ringing that had broken her from her dreams started up again, and it took her lethargic mind a few seconds to identify it as her mobile phone. Anna had opted to stick with the ringtone that came with the phone, even if the repetitive sound had grown irritating very quickly. The alarm tone she had to change every few weeks; otherwise, she would grow so used to it that she'd turn the alarm off whilst mostly still asleep.

She pushed away from the desk, rolling the chair over to the bedside cabinet and grinning rather childishly, taking a simple delight in the quick movement. Snatching the mobile up from its place on top of a book, she glanced at the caller id before pressing the answer button.

"Hello Sim-" A jaw-cracking yawn interrupted her, before she continued her sentence sleepily. "Simon. How are you?"

"Were you sleeping in the middle of the day again?" The dry voice of her best friend replied, ignoring her question, though she could hear the slight tinge of concern. "Is it that dream again?"

"Yes," Anna sighed, hanging her head back over the edge of the chair and resting her feet on the bed. "I can't seem to stop drawing either."

"How long has it been since it started?"

"Two months and three weeks, approximately," she replied dryly, "I'm beginning to wonder if I should go to a psychologist, though the idea of a stranger poking around in my mind doesn't exactly appeal to me. Anyway, was there a purpose to this call?" Anna asked, not rudely despite how her words could be taken, the curious tone negating any hostility.

Simon sounded almost nervous when he replied. "Well, you've heard of the Pandemonium Club, right?" He continued before she could answer, stumbling over his rushed words. "I was walking down the street the other day and some people were giving out these ticket-no, um, coupon-uh, leaflet-things that get you a free drink at the club, so I got a couple of them, and I was wondering if you wanted to go tonight, so, um, yeah..."

Anna thought about it for a moment. She didn't really enjoy going to clubs and the like, having little experience with the type of dancing they did there and even less with interacting with teenagers her age. She found it difficult to...connect, she supposed, with other people, especially those in her age range. She actually got along better with adults, finding it easier to make conversation with them than girls her age who were much more interested with clothes and boys than discussions on evolution and social psychology. She was, however, rather adept at faking it when the time called for her to do so, meaning that she wasn't a total outcast at school, having a large circle of 'friends' who were really just people she hung around with when she was unable to go to the library or needed a favour.

Simon was an exception to this, due to the fact that she actually considered him a friend and enjoyed spending time with him, much to the confusion of her other 'friends'. Conversation with him was just more...interesting, she guessed, and after knowing him for so many years interaction with him was much more natural than with most anyone else. She was also rather...protective of those she considered (hers) a friend, as many a bully had found out over the years, especially since the events of-

Her thoughts were cut off by Simon calling her name, and she blinked before realising he was waiting for her answer.

"Ah, I...wouldn't mind going." She raised an eyebrow at the relieved sigh that came from the other end of the phone, but shrugged it off. "I have nothing else to do today, and my mother has been insisting lately that I need to do things that normal teenagers are into. Going to clubs is one of them, right?"

"Uh, yeah. I'll come by your place in a few hours then?"

"Okay, I'll see you then."

After Simon gave his own goodbye she closed the phone and dropped it on the chewed on her thumbnail as she considered the chest of draws, wondering if she had anything that would be appropriate to wear to a club. Her daily clothes tended to consist of capris or jeans and loose tank tops, accompanied by a pair of boots or ragged trainers. Since she spent most of her time outside in forested areas and parks, her choice of clothing made sense, but from what she'd heard they weren't really ideal for a club.

With a shrug she dedicated herself to spending the next few hours searching for something to wear. She thought her mother had bought a few nice shirts a while back in the vain hope that her daughter would become more feminine, perhaps they were buried somewhere...

. . .

Stepping into the club could be compared to jumping into a swimming pool. The wave of sound washed over the two teenagers, the tempo of the music speeding up their pulses and resonating almost painfully in their ears. Flashing lights lit the people there up in vibrant greens and pinks and blues, splashing their skins and clothes with the colours. The dry-ice smoke wavered beneath the lights, twisting around the bodies like a misty serpent. It took a few moments for them to grow used to the combination assaulting their senses, as they were pushed further into the club by the mesh of dancing bodies.

Anna wrinkled her nose of the prominent scents of sweat and perfumes, allowing herself to be tugged along by Simon over to the bar. It didn't take long for her to notice how much the two of them stuck out. The other club-goers dressed in skimpy black leather and scraps of silk, many a face of both genders pasted with make up, or pierced with hoops and gems. Anna had deigned to wear a pair of skinny jeans and one of the few form-fitting shirts she owned, a plain scarf wrapped around her neck as was usual. Simon looked even more out of place than she did, in an old T-shirt that said MADE IN BROOKLYN across the front in thick letters, and a pair of baggy jeans with trainers. He looked far too normal, with his shaggy brown hair and glasses, to be in a place like this.

Simon shouted something about ordering her a drink, waiting for her nod before beginning his fight to get to the bar through the crowd that had formed there. Anna found a place by the wall, slightly raised up on a higher part of the dance floor, where she had a good view of the club. A few of the more ridiculous dancers – limbs waving frantically, awkward renditions of decades old moves, jumping down in place – brought a slight smile to her face.

Her eyes were caught by a vibrant blue colour that managed - against all odds - to stand out. Her attention would've been quickly lost if it weren't for the way he moved. There was something...predatory about his steps, more a prowl than a walk.

Not human. Anna started at the thought, wondering where it had come from yet utterly sure that it was correct. Fascinated, she looked at his face. It was normal, despite the blue hair, but it wasn't what he looked like that she was so interested in. No, it was what the features themselves revealed about the boy. A lip curled in easily identified contempt, scorn and disgust as his central facial features scrunched upwards, a brief nostril flare of anger. This was not a boy having fun at a club. No, she thoughts, examining the narrowed eyes and drawn together eyebrows, this is the face of a murderer looking for his next victim.

His eyes - a bright, unnatural green that she'd only just noticed, for all that she'd been staring – suddenly focussed on something, widening in momentary surprise before narrowing. His posture straightened, like a soldier called to attention, and Anna followed his line of vision to the girl approaching him. She was beautiful with her ink-black hair and smoky eyes, dressed in a floor-length white dress which hugged her tall, slim figure. A dark red pendent on a silver chain rested against her collarbone, flashing beneath the pulsating club lights. Anna's head tilted to the side. There was something about this girl, something that wasn't quite right...

She moved gracefully across the dance floor, confidence in each stride as she made her way past the blue-haired boy with and inviting smile. He followed after her a moment later, and Anna caught sight of a victorious smirk pulling at the girl's lips, how her fists clenched minutely and her eyes flickered over to-

Two black forms, shadowing the pair as they made their way to a door marked NO ADMITTANCE.

The black-clad duo stopped outside the door which swung shut behind the couple, and she quickly identified them as both being male, one blond and the other dark-haired (the same shade as the girl in the white dress, she noted) as they conferred with each other. She watched closely as the blond one reached into his jacket, removing a long, thin object that glinted silver beneath the lights. Her eyes widened when she registered the sharp edge of the blade, but she couldn't help but appreciate the irony of the situation. Predator becomes prey. Or perhaps he always was?

Anna wondered what most people would be feeling in this situation. Fear, most likely, both for the blue-haired boy and themselves. Horror, maybe, at the crime about to be committed, because though she'd yet to glimpse either of the newcomers faces the blond had carried that knife with familiarity, and she couldn't see many other outcomes. The black-haired girl had been the bait, and the not-boy had fallen for it.

It was not worry for him that drove her to sneak inside the room after them, but curiosity. She'd never been in a situation like this one, and a part of her was wondering how she would react. Would she try to help the not-boy, or would she run away when the time came? Maybe she would do nothing more than watch. She did know, however, that she wanted to know why these three people who couldn't be much older than her fifteen years were about to commit murder, and how they'd planned it with such ease. There was something...off, about them, and if she was to be accused of one flaw it had to be her curiosity.

The storage room was surprisingly cold, at odds with the heat of August outside. The faint noise of cars brought her gaze up to the high, barred windows, and her boots left smudges in the thick dust covering the floor, adding to four other pairs of shoe-shaped markings. Stepping carefully over the electrical cables lying hazardously on the ground, she examined the room closely. The strangest thing happened when she looked to the middle of the room, like her eyes wanted to slide away, something whispering in her mind that there's nothing there.

Impatiently she shoved the voice away with an indignant yes there is. And, as if summoned by the thought four teenagers appeared where there had only been empty space seconds before. She only gained a glimpse before quickly moving behind the nearest concrete pillar, but it was enough. The girl in the white dress stood with the two who had shadowed her, who looked to be of a similar age. The dark-haired one shared her delicate features, though his eyes were a bright blue in comparison to her darker ones. Definitely at least related, if not siblings.

The blonde was slightly shorter than the other boy, his fair hair shining golden beneath the dim light. She noticed with amusement that he too was pretty, like the black-haired girl and boy were, features angular and somewhat feminine, though his muscular build detracted from that somewhat. He faced the not-boy, who stood slumped against a pillar, arms tied awkwardly around it with wire and his ankles bound together similarly. He was grimacing in pain and anger, but tinges of fear widened his eyes and sped up his breathing.

Carefully, ensuring that she wouldn't get spotted, Anna peered around her pillar, prepared to jump back if they turned towards her hiding place. The blonde had crossed his arms as he stalked back and forth, reminding her of a lion or some other big cat, restless in its cage. "So," he said, voice low and almost playful. "You still haven't told me if there are any other of your kind with you?"

Your kind? What could that mean? Her first thought was that it was some sort of distinction between factions, like between gangs or simply cultural identities. Racists maybe? No, they all seem to be Caucasian. And gangs...it just doesn't feel right. She shook her head, knowing better than to rely on just feelings. After all, her feelings seemed to be of the opinion that the blue-haired boy wasn't even human, and that couldn't be possible...could it?

"I don't know what you're talking about." Was the blue-haired boy's rough reply. His lie was a poor and obvious one, clear even if she didn't have a baseline to work with. The other three teenagers didn't believe him, either.

"He means other demons," clarified the dark-haired boy, continuing condescendingly, "You do know what a demon is, don't you?"

The not-boy turned away, ignoring the question even as he swallowed in fear.

The blonde had stopped his pacing, and moved closer to the blunette with a mocking smile. "Demons," he drawled, tracing the word in the air before him. "Religiously defined as hell's denizens, the servants of Satan, but understood here, for the purposes of the Clave, to be any malevolent spirit whose origin is outside our own home dimension-"

"That's enough, Jace." interrupted the girl, though she sounded amused.

"Isabelle's right," her brother (?) agreed. "Nobody here needs a lesson in semantics – or demonology."

Anna chewed her lip. It should sound insane, that these three evidently believed that demons existed, that the (not) boy they had tied up was on of them. She knew there was no such thing, that there was no evidence to back up theories of their existence other than the dubious sources of legends and holy books.

But then, if they were all clearly delusional, why did what they were saying sound so right?

The blond – Jace, the girl had called him – abruptly raised his head and grinned. There was nothing friendly about his grin as it spread, slow and dangerous, across his face. His excitement was almost tangible, yet it was tinged with a dark edge, wild and only barely restrained. "Isabelle and Alec think I talk too much," he said. His voice lowered as he leaned closer, as if imparting a secret. "Do you think I talk too much?"

Nerves left the blue-haired boy struggling to form a sentence, and when he did his fear was poorly concealed. "I could give you information," he bargained, "I know where Valentine is." Anna tensed at the name, though she couldn't think why. Her brows furrowed in confusion, though she kept her attention on the four teenagers.

Jace exchanged a glance with Alec, who shrugged, and said, "Valentine's in the ground. The thing's just toying with us."

Anna examined the not-boy's face, searching for signs of deceit. There was panic there, and a growing sense of fear when he heard Isabelle's encouragement to kill him. He seemed to have given up trying to hide his emotions when Jace raised a knife, stark fear widening his eyes as he flinched back instinctively, struggling against his bonds. "Valentine is back! All the Infernal Worlds know it- I know it-I can tell you where he is-"

She found herself more interested in the knife than the not-boy's panicked words, barely registering them as she looked at the strange, almost translucent quality of it, like a piece of ice. Its hilt was set with glistening red stones, and its razor sharp edge looked like it could slice through steel. Her fingers twitched.

"By the Angel," The rage in Jace's voice caused her to start, attention switching back to him as she examined the frustration and incredulity in his expression, as well as...a hint of fear? "Every time we capture one of you bastards, you claim you know where Valentine is. Well, we know where he is too. He's in hell. And you-" He twisted the knife in his grasp, adjusting his grip as he pulled it back in preparation of what would surely be a fatal blow. "You can join him there."

Anna knew she could walk away whist they were distracted, how easy it would be for her to forget this had ever happened. She could go find Simon, return to her ordinary life where there were no blue-haired not-boys and knife-wielding blonds who believed in demons. She could dismiss this as some strange hallucination her mind had dreamt up, finally cracking beneath the strain of-

"Why do you believe he's a demon?" She asked, stepping out from behind the pillar. It was what she'd been wondering, after all, and this seemed as opportune a moment to ask.

Jace spun to face her, knife tumbling from his shock-loosened grip. His eyes were an interesting colour, she noticed as they widened considerably, an almost gold colour, slightly darker in shade than his hair. They made the feline comparison all the more apt.

All four stared at Anna incredulously, jaws slackening slightly and eyes blinking wide with surprise. Had no one ever interrupted them in the middle of a murder before? That rather surprised her; they weren't exactly being conspicuous, killing someone in a crowded club where they would likely be noticed. Yet they seemed experienced; there was no hesitation in their actions, no anxiety or guilt flashing across their faces as they prepared to kill.

It must be her then. Was her question so inappropriate? She was curious, and listening to them had only made her more so. Demons...the Clave...'outside our home dimension'...this Angel...Valentine. So many questions. Now she had to figure out how to get them to answer.

It was Alec who regained his wits first. "What's this?" he demanded, examining Anna quickly – assessing, she realized, judging how much of a threat she was – before dismissing her and turning to his companions as if they might have an answer to his query. Anna stifled the burst of irritation at the easy dismissal. It was better, after all, to be underestimated, she reminded herself. Still, her pride bristled beneath her calm exterior.

Jace had recovered somewhat, enough to snarkily reply, "It's a girl. Surely you've seen girls before, Alec. Your sister Isabelle is one." Ah, so the relationship between the two was confirmed. "A mundie girl," he continued, more to himself than the others, still looking at her intently whilst she blinked back guilelessly. Anna was happy to let them talk, hoping that they'd let something more slip, something that would allow her to understand the situation, rather than the bits and pieces she was going on. "And she can see us."

"Why wouldn't I be able to see you?" she asked, watching cautiously as he bent down to pick up his knife (keep your muscles relaxed – you tense them when you need them, otherwise you're useless).

"Because you're blind; you just don't know it," Jace replied casually, sharing a somewhat smug look with the black-haired siblings. Anna felt her eyes narrow at the insult, tapping a quick three-beat rhythm against the side of her thigh to help calm her rising anger. It was a habit she'd had for a long while, and by splitting her attention she usually found it a bit easier to control her anger. "You'd better get out of here, if you know what's good for you," The blond went on, flicking his blade towards her in a sort of shooing motion.

Anna bared her teeth in a sharp grin, sensing more than seeing how the three tensed slightly at the unnerving expression. "I've never claimed to know what's good for me," she practically purred, the syllables rolling off her tongue in that arrogant tone she took when her irritation was pushing against her restraints. There was nothing she hated more than being seen as ignorant, being treated as a naïve child. "Since you don't seem to have understood me the first time, I'll repeat myself. Why do you believe this boy is a demon?"

Jace was twirling the knife between his fingers – a nervous habit, perhaps? - watching her much more closely now. "It isn't a boy," he said, pointing the knife at the not-boy, who had slumped over in what seemed to be a faint. But since her instincts were currently urging her to be wary, she presumed he was faking it. Besides, the rise and fall of his chest was too rapid for him to be in an unconscious state. "It isn't even a he. It may look like a boy and talk like a boy, maybe even bleed like one. But it's a monster, a demon."

"Jace!" Isabelle hissed warningly, "That's enough. You can't just go telling random mundies about – about everything."

Alec snorted. "It's not like she believes you anyway."

But Anna's eyes remained on Jace's face, flickering rapidly over his features, searching for any signs of deceit. There was nothing, just honesty and a grim seriousness. Only the very best of liars could manipulate their expressions to such an extent that no signs of deception leaked through, could control their emotions enough to block them entirely. From what she'd seen so far of this teenager, he wasn't quite good enough to mask his emotions from her; she'd had a lot of practise reading better liars than he.

She nodded decisively. If she was wrong, then it wasn't like it would have any serious ramifications – except altering her entire life view, of course. (But that's okay because it feels right rightrightRIGHT) "I believe you," she said, enjoying the surprise that flashed across their faces. She much preferred their bewilderment to her own.

Alec opened his mouth, but whatever he was going to say was interrupted. With an inhuman cry the not-boy tore free from is restraints, before launching himself at Jace. The blond was unprepared for the assault so they tumbled to the floor, grappling as they each tried to gain the upper hand over their opponent. Anna took a few steps back so that she was out of the way and watched curiously, eyeing the blood-stained claws that had replaced the not-boy's fingers.

The demon proved to be the stronger of the two males, sitting on Jace's chest as he swiped at the blond with his claws. The teenager managed to bring an arm up to shield himself but the claws sliced smoothly through his skin, carving deep red lines and splattering blood. The demon made to do the same again when Isabelle's whip lashed across his back, sending him falling to the side with a shriek.

With a swiftness that spoke of intensive training Jace rolled over and sprang, sinking his blade (pretty blade pretty wings) into the blue-haired boy's chest. A black liquid exploded around the hilt, the consistency thicker than blood, and the demon screeched as he twisted in pain. His movements lessened quickly, screeches becoming little more than gurgles, until he lay almost still besides a few twitches.

With a grimace Jace stood up, wrinkling his nose at the sight of his shirt wet with blood, before reaching down and yanking out his knife. The demon seemed to have enough life in him for his eyes to flicker open and fix on Jace's face with a deep loathing. Voice clogged and heavy, he hissed,"So be it. The Forsaken will take you all." Then his eyes rolled back, and Anna watched with wide eyes as his body folded in on itself, reducing in size until it vanished entirely. How...interesting.

So it seemed that Jace really had been telling the truth. Her logical side wanted to reject ever seeing any of it, to believe that it was the result of some hallucinatory drug she'd ingested because this just couldn't be real. But the rest of her was intrigued, was curious about this strange world she'd stumbled upon, and she hungered to know more.

Something shot out whilst she was distracted with her thoughts, wrapping painfully tight around her wrist. Anna glanced down at the gold whip and turned a baleful look on Isabelle, who was glaring furiously at her. "Stupid little mundie," the black-haired girl snarled, "You could have gotten Jace killed!"

"How?" she asked, head tilting to the side as she tugged casually at the taunt whip, trying to find any slack as well as assessing the strength if it. Seeing as it held fast she decided that the strange material it was made off must be quite strong. "It's not my fault he didn't notice the demon was pretending to be unconscious. You're the ones who are experienced with this kind of thing, after all."

"Why you-"

Jace interrupted Isabelle's fury with a short laugh as he walked towards them, arm cradled to his chest with a scowling Alec following close behind. "She's right, I should know better by now than to let my guard down." He saw Anna glancing at the spot where the demon's corpse had lay, and continued, "They return to their home dimensions when they die." She looked at him now with open curiosity and he grinned at her. "In case you were wondering."

"Jace, be careful," Alec hissed in warning, shooting Anna a dark look. "Don't you think it's suspicious that she's taking this so well?"

"Would you prefer I start screaming hysterically?" Anna inquired, raising an eyebrow. She decided that out of the three demon-killing teenagers Jace was definitely her favourite, due to the simple fact that he actually answered her questions and wasn't currently glaring at her as if wishing she would disappear through the sheer force of their anger. It didn't appear to be working so well for them.

"What do you want me to do with her?" Isabelle asked, sending the other girl a disdainful glance. Anna had a few morbid thoughts of the three pouncing like the demon had done only minutes before, except this time she would be the target. She quickly estimated the distance to the door, wondering if she pulled hard enough the whip would escape the black-haired girl's grip and she'd be able to flee. With three on one the odds weren't exactly in her favour, not even factoring in the weapons they had at their disposal. She didn't like the idea of running away, but she wasn't an idiot, and knew how to pick her battles.

Before she could attempt to put her plan into action Jace spoke. "Let her go," he ordered quietly, tawny eyes remaining locked on Anna's own. She wondered what he saw there. A little girl, oblivious to the world he lived in? Or could he see the scars entrenched in her mind, the way her fingers itched for the blades he wielded so comfortably?

Isabelle obeyed him reluctantly, releasing the whip's hold with a flick of her wrist. It left behind a thin red line where it had pressed down on her skin, but the slight pain was easily dismissed. She had a relatively high pain fresh hold after all.

"Maybe we should bring her back with us," Alec suggested. "I bet Hodge would like to talk to her."

"No way are we bringing her to the Institute," Isabelle protested. "She's a mundie."

"Or is she?" Jace disputed, eyes narrowed in contemplation as he studied her. "Have you had dealings with demons, little girl?" Anna bristled, but he went on. "Walked with warlocks, talked with the Night Children? Have you-"

"Perhaps if you closed your mouth I could answer you," she snapped, even as part of her mind catalogued the plethora of information he had just handed her. Warlocks, Night Children; it seemed there were more things out there than just demons. "And my name is Anna, not little girl or mundie-" here she shot a glare at the siblings, "-so if you will refrain from the patronizing nicknames, I would appreciate it. And no," she added as an afterthought, "To my knowledge I haven't consorted with any of the aforementioned beings."

"You sure about that?" Jace asked, looking amused at her short rant and how her articulation increased with her agitation.

Before she could answer the storage room door slammed open. She span around to see Simon standing in the doorway with a frantic expression, which quickly turned to relief when he caught sight of her. "Anna! There you are. I've been looking for you for ages," he peered around the dark room in confusion. "What're you doing in here?"

Anna glanced over her shoulder where the teenagers stood, Jace sending her a grin and a mocking wave when she looked at him. Then she turned to Simon who had followed her gaze, and watched as his eyes slid passed their forms like there was nothing there but empty space. She couldn't help the smile that curled up the corners of her mouth, even as a spark of irritation at the interruption sent her fingers tapping their beat. "It's nothing Simon. I just thought I saw something interesting." What she didn't add was that she'd found it, and there was no way, come hell or high water, that she was going to let it go now that her fascination had been ensnared.

A/N: Just a quick note to say that no, I don't hate Clary. I just like the idea of a stronger, darker protagonist, and felt like taking it for a test run.

(Also realised that Anna is a bit of an unintentional fem!Sephiroth - final fantasy fans, this was by accident. Not that I regret it, since Sephiroth has his awesome moments.)

Reviews would be great. They really do help give the muse a good kick and get it going. Otherwise I get distracted by other fics.

Let me know what you think.