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Chapter Text

The animal clinic was locked up and Deaton turned to the group who'd barged in needing help. The woman was clearly a shadowhunter, not even glamoured, beautiful with her tattoos and marks all over her skin, and very pregnant - having contractions. I so did not sign up for this when I became a vet. The tall man who'd brought her was carrying a toddler, asleep on his shoulder, and practically broadcast his werewolf aura.

The shadowhunter's red hair was sticking to her forehead and the wolf was pacing, fretting. Clearly, he wasn't part of the local pack, no triskelion tattoo marking him as one of the Hale wolves. Deaton could tell he was a new wolf. Possibly a shadowhunter before the bite, like the woman about to give birth in his clinic, maybe not even able to control his shift yet.

The doctor eyed the wolf and toddler he was holding. "Remind me again why she's not in an Institute giving birth?"

"They think she's dead. It needs to stay that way." The wolf was even more agitated, if possible.

"Hi, she's right here, can speak for herself, and I'm about to have this baby - with or without your help, druid. I don't know what it's going to be, so I'd prefer if you were willing to help." Her breathing was shallow and rushed. "Luke, the baby's coming."

The man paled. "Come on, Joc, lay down."

Deaton sighed. "Through here. Lay her down on the table."

"She's still here, you can talk to me." The shadowhunter was certainly fiery.

"Fine, come on." He led them both through the mountain ash barrier, knowing it would only stop the wolf anyway. "What did you mean you don't know what the baby's going to be?"

She pulled herself up on the table, barely accepting help from her companion. "My son isn't all nephilim. There's something demonic in him. My husband did something to him, it's best to be prepared for the worst here too. We're still trying to figure out how to help Jonathan."

Alan shot a glare at the wolf, wondering if he was the one to mess with an unborn child. But he was suspicious of the toddler in his arms. The child hadn't even stirred since they'd entered the clinic, probably sedated if what she was saying about him was true.

As if sensing his thoughts, Luke cast him a dirty glance. "Don't look at me. I got her out. I'm not the one who did this to either of them."

Any reply was lost in a scream from the woman on the table. "If you two are done, this baby is on its way and I'm sure there are preparations you'll want to make."

She was right, he laid out several herbs and a barriers, just in case. He delivered the baby girl without difficulty, and she passed over a line of mountain ash, showing no signs of demonic influence, but the ash glowed golden as she approached it, unlike it would with any normal shadowhunter.

Deaton handed the girl to her mother. "She's not all shadowhunter, but there's nothing in her that prevents her from passing the barrier. Whatever it is, I doubt it's dangerous."

The woman relaxed, visibly relieved. "Thank you." She clutched the baby girl to her chest.

Alan turned to the wolf and toddler leaning over against the other table. "If you want, I can see how I can help the boy."

Luke gave a frightened glance to the mother, who was exhausted on the table. She nodded. He laid the boy on the table, and Deaton instantly surrounded the boy with a boundary of ash. He grabbed the child's hand and tried to pass it over the boundary, but it reacted violently, throwing the boy's limp arm back across his chest.

The vet looked up at the werewolf, alarmed. "What is he?"

"Your guess is as good as ours. His father was experimenting with downworlder blood. There could be anything in him."

"I've never seen the barrier physically repel any downworlder, only -" he trailed off. "I have to make a call to the local alpha. She'll want to know about this boy. If I'm right, you may want her to bite him." He walked away from the alarmed omega toward his office.

A demon. Who would be bold enough to summon a demon only to experiment on his own child with its blood? Deaton picked up his office line and dialed from pure muscle memory. Talia would pick up, she always did.

"What is it Alan? You do realize what time it is, right?" Her soothing voice sounded half asleep.

"Yes, Talia, I know. But I have a shadowhunter, with two half-nephilim children, one she just gave birth to on my table, and an omega in my clinic. You might want to get down here. The older child - Talia, he's something I've never seen before. I think he's a demon hybrid."

"Is he violent? We'll be right there."

"No, just you. The boy is sedated. He hasn't so much as moved since they've been here. I think they're afraid of him. But the whole pack charging in isn't going to help anything."

"Fine. Just me and Derek then. I'll at least bring my son?" Her voice betrayed her exasperation at the situation. Beacon Hills was far enough away from the LA Institute that they didn't deal with shadowhunters often.

"Just you and Derek. Hurry." There was a click and he knew the Hales would be on their way.

He made his way out to his guests, greeted by the sight of the omega cradling the newborn girl so gently, as if she were his own. The mother had pulled her stele out and was activating her healing rune and one for blood loss.

Alan held up a hand, knowing what she was doing. "Wait just a minute. You can't be planning on leaving. The Los Angeles Institute isn't far from here. If you're not careful, you'll be found, especially with a child like that," he motioned to her son. "Let me find a way to help him. The alpha from the Hale pack is on her way and she'll be able to help me know what he is and we'll be able to know the best way to suppress whatever your husband did to him."

Luke glanced at her, still holding the baby girl to his chest. "Joc, we gotta at least let them try."

She let the ferocity fall from her face and relaxed again. "Fine. But only if Luke feels safe around these wolves."

Deaton glanced between the two. "I've been working with the Hale pack my whole life. I would trust them with my life."

The shadowhunter glared at him. "But should I trust them with my son's life?"

The druid opened his mouth to reply, but Talia walked in, her teen son trailing behind her. "It's alright, Alan. I wouldn't trust a shadowhunter I'd never met to treat my child. Would you be so kind as to let us through?"

He opened the gate to allow them through the mountain ash and Talia moved over to the table where the toddler laid asleep, surrounded by more ash. "He seems innocent enough, what made you suspect demonic blood?"

The glance between Jocelyn and Luke did not go unnoticed, nor did Luke's nod.

Deaton reached over the barrier and went to pass Jonathan's hand over it, only for it to be thrown back violently once again. Talia tilted her head curiously, as if she were actually a wolf.

Derek stepped forward. "I've never seen a mountain ash barrier react that way to any creature. Not even a demon."

His mother hummed. "He's right. They often just hover outside the barrier, trapped like we would be. We sometimes trap shax demons with it to train new wolves, and it certainly doesn't do that. Must not be your run-of-the-mill demonic blood, if that is what it is."

Luke handed the baby girl back to her mother to join the other wolves at the table. "What if it was a greater demon? Would that explain it?"

The alpha locked eyes with him, and he averted his gaze immediately. "Why would you ask such a bold question?"

"The boy's father was going more and more mad. I was his parabatai before he lured me into a wolf den. He was obsessed with creating the perfect warrior - with the strength of the angels and the magic of the demons. He would want the most powerful of each, if he could get them." Luke kept his gaze down.

"Oh! Angel blood. That would explain the baby's reaction to the mountain ash." Deaton turned to Jocelyn, gesturing for the baby girl. "May I?" She nodded and handed her to him. He cradled the tiny newborn in his hands and held her over the barrier that surrounded her brother. It glowed a bright gold as she was held in its path, reacting to her presence.

Talia stepped around the table and sniffed at the girl. "Fascinating." She turned to the mother. "Have you performed her protection ceremony already?" Jocelyn shook her head. The alpha clapped her hands, pulling out her phone to shoot off a text. "Excellent! We'll do it here. My warlock and silent brother should be here shortly."

Luke looked up, finally. "I'm sorry, your what?"

Talia's eyes flashed alpha red as she grinned and her son groaned, rolling his eyes. "I can smell Idris all over the both of you. Here, it's much different. My pack isn't just wolves. So, I'm going to help your son. Unfortunately, the best way to eliminate something that dark in the bloodstream is usually a bite from an alpha, which would make him a part of my pack. But, given that you are Lucian Greymark, parabatai to the most despised shadowhunter in history, turned werewolf and cast out of nephilim society, and you are Jocelyn Fairchild, wife of Valentine Morgenstern - that very same despised shadowhunter - and presumed dead, along with your son, I'm thinking being a part of a pack isn't a bad place for either you.

"I can't guarantee what the bite will do to your son. It may make him more of a hybrid than he already is, but it will certainly give him more control than he has now. I'm sure right now you're frightened of him because he has dark and violent impulses that he gives into, even at such a young age. Control is the most important thing to a wolf." She turned to her son. "Isn't that right, Derek?" His eyes flashed an icy blue before he nodded and lowered his head in deference to his mother.

"So, can I offer you a home as a part of my pack? I will inform the LA Institute that I have an exiled shadowhunter and her half-nephilim children living under my protection and as a part of my pack. They will not come searching for you. You can take a new name, both of you. We will help you train both of your children and any others the two of you have."

Jocelyn eyed the alpha warily. "What do you get out of this? You help my son, not knowing if he'll still be a danger. Take me in, not knowing if Valentine will come for us. What does it get you?"

Talia laughed. "I get two of the most renowned shadowhunters, one who is now a wolf, to help me with my own hunter problem. I get a powerful hybrid and a half-angel as part of my pack. My pack gets four powerful additions, all for what? The cost of doing some goodwill? I'll pay that."

The sound of a portal drew all of their attention. The newborn started crying, still held in Deaton's hands gently. He handed her to her mother and turned to allow the warlock and silent brother in past the barrier, realizing he was going to be here until it was time to open again in the morning at this rate.

Talia was still staring down Jocelyn. It was a good thing she wasn't a proud alpha, or there would already be blood. Luke put a hand on the shadowhunter's shoulder. "Joc, if we do this, it's a home where we don't have to hide who we are from the kids. They can know the truth, they can train and know their history and be prepared if he ever does come back. If we keep running, it means hiding. It means lying to them."

The redhead stared down at the newborn on her chest, sighing. "Luke's right. Your offer is beyond kind and by far the best option for us. Thank you."

The alpha clapped her hands happily again. "How exciting!" She turned to the newcomers. "Brother Jeremiah, Tessa Gray, I believe you are familiar with the ceremony that must be completed when a new shadowhunter is born? Well, as the dear little one's alpha, I am asking that you perform it and protect her from any who would harm her."

The ceremony was over quick and Talia would not let anyone leave the clinic until she'd given Jonathan the bite. "How did you sedate him?"

Jocelyn ducked her head. "I had a warlock prepare a rather strong sleeping drought."

Tessa eyed the boy on the table in shock. "Is he really that dangerous?"

"He can drain the life from things without so much as touching them. I would really rather not allow him to experiment with his power." The mother was testing her strength in standing, having expressed her distaste for staying on the table any longer.

The warlock watched the boy silently for a moment. "If it's only a sleeping potion, I can wake him. Are you sure you want him awake for the bite if he's as powerful as they say?"

Talia glared at Tessa with flashing red eyes. "I am not in the habit of turning young boys while they sleep. He deserves to know what is happening to him and why."

With a nod, Alan wiped away the barrier and Tessa began working her magic, the green sparks flying from her hands, wrapping around the sleeping boy and pulling out the remnants of a golden magic that had been keeping him asleep.

Jonathan sat up slowly, blinking sleepily. His eyes were his mother's bright green until he saw the strangers he didn't recognize and they clouded over with pitch black. Deaton noted every detail of it that he could, hoping to learn more about the boy's origins, should it ever become necessary.

Jocelyn stood in front of him, hoping to reassure him. "No! Jonathan, it's okay! They're friends! They helped me have the baby, your baby sister. Do you want to meet her?"

The darkness of his power receded as he nodded, hoping to see his little sister. Luke brought the newborn up for Jonathan to see. "This is Clarissa. Clarissa, this is your big brother Jonathan, he's strong like you."

Talia spoke up. "He sure is, isn't he?" Jonathan whirled toward her, still sitting on the table, but placing himself between the new voice and his baby sister. "Oh don't worry, little one. I won't hurt your sister. I'm the one who brought people here to help her and do her protection ceremony. I want to protect your family. I think you all are really special, especially you. That's true, isn't it?"

The small boy nodded. "I can hurt things without trying. I shouldn't. Mommy says I should try not to, but it's so easy. And sometimes it just happens"

The alpha smiled. "I'm an alpha. Do you know what that means?" He nodded. "It means I can give you the bite. I think it will help give you the control to only hurt things that should be hurt. I asked your mommy and she agreed, but I wanted to talk to you about it first. That's why we woke you up first, because I think it's important that you understand too."

His young face scrunched up. "So I wouldn't be a shadowhunter anymore?"

Talia smiled. "Well, actually, you're so special, that we don't know. I don't know what you will or won't be. But I do believe it will help you have more control. And that's what's important, that you choose what you do, that you aren't forced to do something just because something inside of you is telling you to do it. Does that make sense?"

Jonathan nodded again. "Yes. I think that would be better. Besides, Luke isn't a shadowhunter anymore and he's still a great warrior. I think it would be okay even if I wasn't."

"Okay, we'll do this now, then. Turn around and look at your family. Ready? Brother Jeremiah, if you would prepare to tend to him, Tessa you as well. Three, two.."

Deaton watched as the strange boy didn't even wince as the alpha's teeth sank into his shoulder.

Jocelyn closed the door to Jonathan's room for the fourth time that night. Talia had given the family their own corner of a floor, even a nursery for Clarissa, who Jonathan had taken to affectionately calling Clary after the first few days.

Luke watched her try to close the door as soundlessly as possible. "You know, your soundless rune only works on you, not the door."

She flinched, knowing she was caught. "I was just checking to be sure nothing was catching fire, no dead animals, nothing-" she trailed off.

"Nothing demonic."

"Right!"

Luke sighed. "Joc, we've been here for over a week, and he's been fine so far. The full moon is tomorrow and we'll know the full extent of the changes, but, right now, just breathe easy, okay?"

She ran a hand through her frazzled red hair. "Okay. Are you going to take him out with the rest of the pack?"

"Yes, Talia expects it. He's freshly turned and we have no idea what will happen. It will be better if he's with the whole pack. He needs to know that, no matter what, he's one of us."

Jocelyn smiled, wrapping her arms around herself. "You know, we need new names. The kids will have to register in mundane schools like Derek is."

Luke nudged her shoulder. "We could always ask Talia if we could pretend to be long lost Hales." They both snickered.

"No, no. The kids deserve a name of their own. I wish I could give them the Fairchild name." She sighed. "Well, you were Greymark, I was Fairchild. Let's settle on Fray."

Luke chuckled. "That works. I think I'm going to take on Garroway." He watched her closely for her reaction, but this was the woman who'd hid the Cup from Valentine, betrayed him, escaped with both his children and her life. If she didn't want him to know what she was thinking, he would never know.

Clary's cry could be heard from where they were standing outside Jonathan's door. She smiled. "I guess I better go feed her. Good night, Mr. Garroway." She said it with fondness, at least.

He waved a slight goodnight to her. "Good night, Ms. Fray."

Jocelyn watched as Luke and Jonathan gathered with the rest of the Hale pack, both rather uncertain. Talia made her way through in a tank top and leggings, her dark hair loose around her shoulders. The others seemed to instinctively shift toward her.

Over the week they'd been in the Hale house, Jocelyn had learned several things and the most vital was that Talia was not an alpha to be trifled with. Most of the wolves in the house were her family - her children, brother, sister, nieces, and nephew - but a few were stragglers, like themselves, who had sought shelter and been taken in. She earned loyalty like any true leader would. Not through fear or charisma, like Valentine had, but by caring for her pack and protecting them.

"Quite a sight, isn't it?" Jocelyn did her best not to jump at the voice of Talia's younger brother, Peter, not wanting to wake Clarissa.

"It's honestly the first time I get to see a pack go out and not have to worry about hunting them." She let the edge creep into her voice. His arrogance and disregard for what she was bothered her. Peter was determined to treat her like any other mundane - she simply wasn't a wolf.

He shrugged. "I'd love to see your kind try and hunt a pack our size. With an alpha like my sister at the head. You nephilim have no idea." He sauntered off to join the rest of the wolves down in the courtyard, preparing for their run through the woods.

Jocelyn pulled Clary a bit closer to her. She knew that if Jonathan proved as powerful as they suspected there would be those who wanted to give the newborn the bite as well - create another tribrid as well. Tonight would tell.

Howls went up from all around them. Jonathan glanced around, watching the people become wolves, but only in their faces and claws, really. They weren't true wolves - not like Luke was.

Luke glanced down at him, eyes glowing green - not golden or blue, like the rest of them. "The moon is cresting. It's time." Bones started to crack and Jonathan stepped back as he patiently watched his guardian shift into a true wolf.

Others gathered around, curious to see the nephilim omega, only to scatter as he howled loudly, shaking out his black and gray coat, green eyes bright. Jonathan giggled.

"I had thought as much." He whirled, inclining his head at the sound of his alpha's voice. Her red eyes were bright with glee. She seemed excited, not afraid. Jonathan liked her.

"Are all nephilim full wolves when bitten, mother?"

Jonathan glared at the tall girl asking silly questions. That was Laura, the oldest, next in line to be alpha so long as Peter didn't really kill Talia like he was always muttering about when he thought no one could hear.

"We wouldn't know. Most shadowhunters kill themselves before the transition. Luke stayed alive for us. To defeat Valentine." He puffed out his chest, proud of his guardian, proud that he was a true wolf, even if he wasn't a shadowhunter anymore.

Laura stared down at him, like he was some kind of bug she'd never seen before. "Strange, your kind would rather die than be like us - even if it meant being like the most revered of our kind."

He pouted a little. "Not my kind. My mother's kind. And they don't really like her either." Luke nuzzled him and it tickled.

Talia laughed. "You're a quick one, aren't you?" She glanced up at the moon, high into its peak. "Do you feel anything, pup?"

Jonathan stared at his alpha. "I don't feel like killing anything. That's new. Mother doesn't believe it yet. She's been checking my room regularly for any signs of trouble." He shrugged and followed her gaze to the moon, taking it in. "I feel - I feel like I could snap my fingers and do anything, good or bad." Luke paced away from them, off into the woods, his dark coat hiding him in the shadows.

Laura crossed her arms at the boy, glaring at Jonathan again, ignoring that Luke had left her mother's presence without permission. "But do you feel like you're going to shift?"

He glared at her in what he was sure looked like something very six-year-old. "I think I could if I wanted to." He fidgeted, kicking at the ground, suddenly uncomfortable without his guardian there, feeling his age for once.

Talia knelt down in front of him, her fangs were dropped, her claws extended - clearly ready to shift and lead the pack in their run under the full moon. Her red gaze met his and he let his eyes cloud over to black, his power take over so he could see everything through his magic - but it wasn't in control.

The trees didn't wither, Talia didn't flinch, though her daughter backed away, sniffing at him. "Mama, he smells like a warlock, not a wolf!"

The alpha nodded at him, he could see her clearly through the heightened glare of his magic, her red eyes the most prominent thing in the forest, despite all the glowing pairs of eyes - golden, blue, green. Her alpha red stood out as the greatest source of strength.

She rested a hand on his shoulder. "Put away the magic and see if you can be a wolf tonight. I believe you can be both, but tonight, for your first moon, be a wolf, little pup."

Jonathan fixed his pitch stare on her glowing stare, allowing his own power to fade, feeling it shift back into the recesses of himself. Be a wolf. He thought about Luke, all the inane questions he'd asked about what it felt like, how he made his eyes glow, if the transition hurt.

"Good, little pup. Now look around, see the forest and your pack with your true eyes." It was different, seeing like this - it wasn't like there was a harsh light reflecting back at him off of everything like there was when he let the magic flood him. This was like someone had turned the moonlight into day and he could see clearly. He could smell the feelings of the wolves around him, Luke's worry for him, Talia's excitement for the pack, Laura's hesitation about everything. He could hear all the wolves pacing and playing, pouncing on each other for fun as they waited for the signal from their alpha to run. And then he realized - she was just waiting on him. Waiting to see what he would do - if he could shift or not.

The sound of bones cracking was so much louder when it came from inside his body and with the heightened senses of a wolf. Jonathan dropped to all fours, grimacing - he hadn't crawled like a baby in years. He was bigger than that. But his wolf had other ideas - no crawling, no walking - running! Running with the pack! Leaping, playing with Luke, maybe nipping at Derek if he got the chance, just to annoy him!

He stopped short at the sight of a large grey wolf in front of him, her deep red eyes watching him with mirth. He lowered his eyes, bared his neck to her in submission. She rubbed her scent on him and strode past him, Laura at her side.

Luke found him just as Talia was in the middle of the clearing they'd all been waiting near. He sniffed at him, nuzzling him again, careful not to cover their alpha's scent with his own. Together, they watched with their green eyes as Talia Hale let our a piercing howl, signaling to her pack it was time to run. Jonathan nipped at Luke's ear and took off, letting out a small howl of his own, fully intending to find at least one of the Hales to pester before Luke caught up to him.

This werewolf thing had been his mother's greatest idea. He couldn't even be angry at her for leaving father any more. This family was far better. He belonged here.

Jocelyn woke briefly to check that Clary was still sleeping well in the bassinet next to her bed - her very warm, very full bed. She sat up to see the familiar figure of Luke's wolf form with his charcoal coat, nearly the size of a large man, and laying at her back. It was the white wolf pup at her feet that was a surprise. Barely the height of a medium-sized dog, her son must have managed to shift after all. She ran her hands down the length of his lean body, comforting him. A glowing green eye peaked out at her sleepily and she bit her lip. She wasn't sure what she'd been expecting, but this all seemed so normal.

Jocelyn Fairchild, a shadowhunter, went to sleep with her son in the bed for the first time in her life, unafraid, amazingly, because he was actually a werewolf.

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Jocelyn watched as her children sparred in one of the large open spaces in the Hale mansion. Jonathan and Laura were going at each other with staffs, while Clary had been paired with the youngest, Cora, for hand-to-hand.

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Deaton looked the small redhead over as thoroughly as he could. Her scream had drawn the whole pack to the hall, apparently audible to any supernatural creature within a remarkable distance.

"Well, Joc, it looks like, physically, she's fine. The bite appears to have even healed. I'm going to assume you used a rune for that?"

Jocelyn exchanged looks with the rest of her family, Jonathan included. "No, I didn't, I don't think they did either." Jonathan and Luke shook their heads.

Deaton nodded thoughtfully. "Then I suppose she's developed some kind of healing. That's a benefit, I should think."

Talia was standing off in the corner, observing. She hummed in agreement. "Clary, can you tell us what you remember?"

The tiny shadowhunter put a hand to her forehead, almost as if she could hold all the memories there. "I was bitten, and I collapsed, and then there were all these, just, images. One finally stuck out. It was a big city, tall buildings. Three young shadowhunters are following a vampire, like they're training, when a man - he has our runes, but the angel isn't with him - and this circle scar on his neck," she gestured to the side of her neck, "and a group of others grabs them."

Jocelyn grabbed her daughter's hand, "What do you mean the angel isn't with him, dear?"

"He's runed, he has angel blood like us, but the angel doesn't condone what he's doing. It goes against what shadowhunters are meant to do."

Jonathan stepped toward his sister's bed. "What is he doing?"

Clary shook her head. "I'm not sure. I can just feel that the angels don't like it." She paused and looked up, "Oh, and he said 'We only need the Wayland boy, kill the spares.'"

Deaton heard a noise at the entrance and looked to see the shadowhunter from the LA Institute grabbing his phone.

"This is Andrew Blackburn from LA, I need to speak to Robert or Maryse Lightwood immediately," there was a pause. "No, it concerns the safety of their children so you can put me through to someone who will recall them from the field now."

Jocelyn stared at him as he spoke. "They must be the 'spares'. Poor Maryse. No one deserves that."

Her daughter leaned forward to put her hand on her mother's arm, a faraway look in her eyes. "It hasn't happened yet, mom. There's still time."

Jace's phone went off annoyingly in his pocket. He was tempted to just ignore it, but something in him was practically screaming to check it.

Ambush. Return to Institute IMMEDIATELY

He glanced at his adopted brother and sister on either side of him in the alley. "Psst," he waved his phone at them to get their attention, "ambush. We need to head home."

They nodded, tensing, and slowing to observe their surroundings. The vampire they'd been tracking had been a tip, one of their downworld contacts saying he'd been taking his blood den feedings too far.

It was an easy assignment for in-training shadowhunters. Follow the vamp, subdue him, take him to the Institute, send him to the Clave for sentencing. It wasn't their first assignment of the kind, there was no reason to suspect anything was off.

Jace began the trek back out the way they'd come, the others following, but watching for an attack from what they'd been hunting.

We must have missed something. I'm sure they'll let us know where we failed when we get back. There weren't many things that Jace Wayland let get to him, but failure was a big one. Even at twelve, there was plenty of talk of his skills - how he was faster, stronger, better than any other Nephilim, especially any his age.

"Jace, there's no one here," Isabelle whispered, her staff at the ready. She was right. Even the vampire was beyond their rune-enhanced senses now, much less anyone who might want to ambush them.

He glanced over to his brother and parabatai - a bound partner by rune, one who was paired until death to go where the other goes and be closer than even brothers, "I guess we should head home then."

Alec nodded, lowering his bow, but keeping an arrow at the ready, just in case. They made their way out of the alley, on the streets of New York. Their glamours kept them out of the sight of mundanes, but that didn't mean they were out of danger, and the three of them knew it.

Izzy took the lead in the trek back toward the Institute, her long, black hair bouncing behind her. Both the Lightwoods shared the trait - dark, wild hair - paired with piercing hazel eyes. Jace stood out from his adopted siblings like a parrot in a flight of doves - golden blonde hair, honey-brown eyes - where they were dark and piercing, he was bright and golden.

Isabelle paused, her hand back behind her, and staff outstretched in front of an alley they were about to pass, "I can almost sense something here."

Jace drew his seraph blade and crept around her to the wall, peering into the alley.

"Do we check it out?" Alec was along the wall beside him.

"We're on the lookout for an ambush, why the hell would we go check it out?" Izzy hissed at them.

Alec shrugged at her. Jace shook his head. "No, we should keep heading back. Alec, cover Iz with your bow as she crosses, then you go."

They both nodded. It wasn't common for Jace to take charge, it was usually Alec, the oldest, but since he'd gotten the text, it seemed like he was the most informed, somehow.

Alec notched his runed arrow, moving past Jace to the edge of the alley. He nodded to his sister and she crossed the space between the two buildings quickly, without incident. All three of them relaxed a bit.

"Alright, Alec, now you. Iz and I will both be at the ready, just in case." Jace twisted his sword in his hand, debating if he should give it an angelic name now, activating its runes, or wait until there was an active threat. As Alec stepped out into the gap between buildings, he whispered a random name, causing the runes to glow. Couldn't be too careful, after all.

A gruff voice came out of the alley, "Well, we would have preferred to do this the easy way, but you seem to be a bit smarter than we planned."

Jace tensed, raising his blade and pulling his witchlight out of his pocket to illuminate the alley. A large man leaned against the wall of the building opposite him - closer to his siblings - a shadowhunter.

He grit his teeth, "Is this supposed to be some kind of test?"

Laughter came from above them as another man dropped down behind Izzy. "A test? Yeah sure. We're from the Clave and we're here to test your skills, baby Nephilim."

Alec stepped away, arrow notched and raised, pivoting from one threat to the other. "It really isn't wise to challenge us, no matter how seasoned hunters you think you are."

Jace couldn't help the manic grin that spread on his face, "My parabatai is right. I just so happen to be the best. Ask anyone. Maybe you three want to reconsider." He turned and glanced up, knowing a third was leaping from the roof of the building he was near.

This isn't good. Even if I am good enough, there's no guarantee they can't overpower Iz and Alec. Jace didn't like these odds.

The man in the alley stepped away from the wall, "I can see you doing the math, boy. I know you can see how this is going to end. Tell you what, we were going to kill these two and just take you, but if you come quietly, we'll let them run back to the Institute and tell everyone about how heroic you were, sacrificing yourself for them."

Izzy brandished her staff, prowling around the man that had landed nearest her, looking every bit as dangerous as an adult shadowhunter.

Alec's bow was stretched taut. "Yeah, that's not gonna happen. You won't be taking our brother today."

The man shrugged, "If that's how you would prefer this go, fine by us."

"Not by us."

A pair of glowing red eyes appeared at the other end of the alley, flanked by golden pairs - at least half a dozen.

"No one invited you, downworlder." The three men completely turned from Jace and the Lightwoods, facing the wolves.

The alpha - Jace knew of him, but had somehow forgotten his name - was clearly not afraid of whoever these three were. "Actually, we were. See, Circle members aren't welcome in our territory - bad history and all that." Growls were coming from the betas as they fanned out along the alley, all still ignoring the teenage shadowhunters.

The man who'd been near Jace leaped first, aiming a blade for one of the betas who'd gotten too close. Alec's arrow made it to the man before he managed to wound the werewolf, the wolf nodding to him in thanks.

Jace and Izzy took that as their cue, both lunging after the men, keeping them from using their runed weapons against the downworlders, while the wolves evened their odds. Jace ran straight for the man who had waited for him in the alley, now seeing the Circle scar on his neck. It was pure rage. His seraph blade moved of its own accord, biting into flesh and cloth and anywhere he could reach. He knew Izzy and Alec would be alright with the New York pack helping them.

This was revenge. The Circle. Here. He'd kill them. He'd kill them all.

"Jace. Jace! JACE!" Alec and Izzy were pulling him away. The man at his feet was dead. Very dead.

Alec grabbed him by the shoulder, pushing him up the alley, "You good? You back with us?"

He breathed and wiped off the seraph blade on his pants. "Yeah, yeah. I'm back."

His brother nodded, letting him go and walking over to the pack that was still hovering at the other end of the alley. "I don't know how or why, but we owe you our lives."

The alpha shook his head. "No, we would have killed these three with or without you here. The Circle should be dead and gone. You owe your lives to the banshee that called out to us. We could hear her all the way at the docks."

Alec glanced at Izzy, then over at him. They all basically confirmed the same thing; none of them knew of a banshee in New York.

"Either way, thank you. The New York Institute owes you."

The alpha huffed. "Sure, we'll keep that in mind, kid." He turned to go and the rest of the pack followed him out of Jace's witchlight, which he'd dropped at some point, illuminating a portion of the alley.

He turned to his two siblings, all three of them now disheveled and clearly battle-worn, "I guess it wasn't a test, then, was it?"

Helen found that these wolves gathered together in a crisis, so their training floor was wide open for her to take her frustration out on some training dummies.

She hadn't seen Jace, Alec, or Isabelle since their last trip to Idris a few years ago, but still, it stung to think they were going to be taken or killed and there was nothing she could do.

"I think if you hit it some more it might hit back."

She turned, almost ready to hide or fight - not sure which. "I'm sorry?"

"Nothing, you're just taking out quite a bit of rage on this poor thing here. Need a sparring partner?" He was older than most of the young wolves she'd seen around, probably mid-teens, with dark hair.

Helen narrowed her eyes, "Last time I agreed to spar with one of your pack, I had to resort to playing dirty to stay on my feet."

"Ah, yes. I heard you knocked Jon on his ass. Not many of us can boast that." He gave her a little half-grin that made it feel more like a challenge than a compliment, and she felt like she wanted to punch him.

"Alright, sure. I could use someone to spar with."

He extended his hand, "Derek, by the way."

She took it hesitantly, "Helen."

"Yeah, I know. You look a lot like your mom."

She scoffed, "I wouldn't know. Never met her."

His brows raised, but he didn't say anything to that, just went over to wrap his hands. Great, so she'd be going hand-to-hand against a wolf several years older than her. Stamina and strength runes it was.

She marked the runes and got in her stance, imagining it was her brother Mark across from her.

He threw a few quick shots that she easily dodged. "You know, if you've never met her, why be here, where you know she's part of our pack?"

Helen landed a punch to his side, moving around him and out of reach for a counter. "You always interrogate while you fight?"

He dropped and attempted to sweep her legs out, but she was used to this tactic from her brother. She took the chance to grapple him into a lock, hoping his pure strength wouldn't get him out.

He pulled at her legs and she almost had to give, but he tapped out and she released her hold.

"Damn, where'd you learn that?" He rubbed his shoulder, rolling it to loosen it back out, already healing, she was sure. "And no, I don't always interrogate while I fight. I tend to only fight my siblings. I know everything about them."

She laughed. "My brother pulls moves like that sweep. I spar with him all the time, so it's not hard to counter. I was more afraid you'd be able to just overpower me. Probably would have if I hadn't used my runes."

"Well, I wasn't going to say it. We try to keep Jon and Clary from using their steles so they know how to fight without them first, then they're even better with them."

Helen thought about it. In the Institute, they were raised memorizing runes from day one, basically. The idea of knowing everything without the stele first was actually kind of brilliant.

"That's actually a really good idea. We're pretty much taught that your stele is your life. All other things being equal, I suppose they'd be better shadowhunters than the rest of us for it."

"Helen!" Her father's voice came from the balcony above. "They're fine. She warned them in time. You have to come up here and hear this."

She shared a glance with Derek and they both took the stairs quickly toward Clarissa's room.

"Andrew, what are you saying?" Jocelyn was asking as they entered the room.

"Just give me a moment, I don't want to have to repeat it a thousand times." Her father was standing in the doorway, hovering between the room and the hallway, clearly waiting for others to arrive.

Talia made her way to the room and he followed her in. "Okay, so the Lightwood kids and Jace Wayland are alright. Clarissa, your warning got to them in time."

There were murmurs all around the room. Helen didn't miss the glow on Jocelyn's face.

"But that's not the best part," of course, leave it to her father to be dramatic, "they weren't saved by avoiding the ambush from the Circle members."

There were growls from some of the wolves at the mention. Helen put her hand on her blade at her waist, not exactly comfortable being surrounded by hostile wolves.

"I know, I know, and we can all talk about what that means, but you have to hear this. The New York Pack rescued those kids!"

Helen looked at her father. "Why was the pack there?"

He grinned, "That's just it. They heard young Clarissa's warning about three teen shadowhunters about to be ambushed by the Circle and would not have them in their territory. They told the kids that they would have killed the men with or without the kids there, that they owed their lives to the banshee - that they heard her all the way from the docks."

Luke was the first to voice what they were all thinking, "But we're here in California. How is that even possible?"

"The angels chose her." Helen turned to the doorway to see the woman she'd been waiting her whole life to see, standing behind the warlock who spoke. "I told you all it would be this way. What it means next, I have no idea."

Helen couldn't take her eyes off her mother; no - her birth-mother. She could see why everyone knew instantly that she was her daughter. Same flowing golden hair, angled face; they even had the same nose. But Nerissa had the mossy green eyes of a Seelie, and Helen knew hers were the blue-green of a Blackthorn. There was also this shimmer about her, like the ripple of light filtering through trees in a forest. They certainly didn't share that.

Nerissa's glance flickered from Helen to her father, "Hello Andrew," she simply nodded her head toward him, then to her, "Helen."

Whatever kind of meeting with her birth-mother she had been expecting, a nod of acknowledgment and a mention of her name certainly hadn't been it. Maybe Mark had been right all along. This pack clearly took in children that weren't wolves - even part shadowhunter - so there was no reason for them not to be kept here, for her to abandon them at their father's door.

Her father simply nodded in return, his face blank like a good soldier. She put on her best face as well. Shadowhunters are warriors first. She wasn't an abandoned child. She was an accomplished and impressive fighter.

"Dorothea, I'd like you to stay close for a while, see if you can glean any insight into what Clary will be dealing with," Talia was readying her pack, moving on from the New York incident. "Everyone else, I'm sure we can resume life as usual, yes?" She stood in front of Clarissa Morgenstern's bed, implying the family was exempt from her order and there was nothing left to see here.

Helen and her father filed out along with the Hale pack, leaving the alpha and those who were needed in the room. Everyone else seemed to know exactly where they were needed, dispersing immediately.

All except Nerissa.

Helen found she suddenly had a voice again. "You don't have somewhere you're supposed to be, like the rest of them?" She gestured to the remnant of the pack that was dispersing.

Her birth-mother glanced down at her with a smile that seemed as if she were laughing at a joke that only she knew, "Oh, I'm sure there are some wards or guards Talia would have me off checking, or I could be tending to my mountain ash trees, or any number of tasks to help Deaton maintaining his stores."

She snorted, "That's right. True seelies can't lie. So you just don't give answers. Sorry, we don't interact with many in LA, so I forget sometimes."

Her father chimed in with a warning tone, "Helen -"

Nerissa held up a hand, "It's fine, Andrew. Ask what you want to ask, child."

She gathered up all the strength she had in her, not wanting her Nephilim soldier facade to break, "Why leave us at the Institute? It's rather clear we would have been welcomed into the pack here. Why choose to leave your children?"

Sadness was not what she anticipated to see in the Seelie's face. "I see my memory charm is still in full force, then."

Both Helen and her father looked at each other in confusion. Memory charm? Neither of them seemed to know, which, of course, meant she was right.

"I wasn't a part of the pack when you and your brother were born, little one. Nor when I met your father. I was still in service to the Seelie queen and her realm, where your father and his brother were prisoners for trespassing, serving seven years, as is the custom. Not much time passed here, in this mortal realm, but spending much time with the fae can," she paused, "damage the mortal mind - even a shadowhunter's. I wiped the time with us from the Blackthorn brothers' minds, but I had already borne your brother, with you on the way. My queen was not pleased with my indiscretions.

"The time of imprisonment was completed for your father and uncle, but we - your brother, yourself, and I - were left to the wrath of the Seelie queen. I did what I thought best; I left you in the hands of the Clave. There, she could not touch you without endangering the Accords. I, however, was stripped of my immortality and banished from my position in the Seelie realm. Now you find me here, a member of the Hale pack, which you believe I have been a member of all along, because none of you remember what truly transpired." She sighed, "But now, because you know I cannot lie, you know the truth."

Helen held her head high, "You're right, now we know. You may not be able to lie, but you can erase the truth and omit all the important details. You may have been protecting us when you left us at first, but you never came back or reached out because you were maintaining your lie. Thank you for the truth. That's all I needed."

She spun on her heels and headed out the door. They'd solved their case of a rogue wolf, seen that the New York shadowhunters were safe, and confirmed that Peter Hale was a problem. Their work with the Hale pack was done for now. It was time to go home.

Chapter Text

The voices had taken some getting used to, but Clary would like to think she had this whole banshee thing under wraps. As traumatic as her turn had been, being so young had probably been a benefit. The scar on her shoulder never went away completely and she wore it with pride - just as much as her runes or the red Fairchild hair.

At ten, Talia had given Clary her own art studio. The "voices" turned out to be some combination of spirits around them and angelic callings that only she could hear - that could be translated into runes, which she could paint or sketch. Sometimes there would be visions, like there had been with the kids in New York, and she would paint them and call Jon or Helen, making sure someone got to it in time.

Jon and Laura started dating - which was super gross - but it made training crazy intense. Jonathan had been determined since her bite that Clary would be one of the "best shadowhunters of history." He trained her as hard as he could, sometimes bringing down the wrath of both their mother and their alpha. But no one could deny the results. Clary could take down all the adults, including Luke and her mother, and she was learning to use her voice in a fight, like a true banshee.

This was freshman year. She was determined that by spring she would be able to wield her banshee's voice as effectively as she did her seraph blade or her stele. Cora was already a junior and all she cared about were boys. Clary was a bit awkward and found she spent more time researching supernatural creatures and pretending it was for a graphic novel she and Simon were writing than ever being interested in any kind of dating.

Besides, her dreams had been plagued by the golden boy from New York since she was seven years old and it was hard for anyone else to compare. Although Simon kept trying. She felt bad, she really did, but she had watched this boy grow up in her dreams and knew he was like her - just wanted to be the best and really only so he could protect the people that mattered to him. That was a side of her that Simon would never know. He was her best friend, but he was still a mundane.

"Clary! Are you ready to go?" Jon's voice came from down the hall. He'd been driving her to school in his tank of a jeep since he got it in high school - paid for himself by a job working in Deaton's clinic. "You're gonna make me late for work!"

She put the final touches on her make up and grabbed her bag. It was really just a sketchpad and notebook with pens and her art supplies. School was more for doodling than note-taking anyway.

She dashed past her brother down the stairs, smirking. "What are you waiting for, Jon? We're going to be late."

Talia and Luke were in the entryway, speaking in hushed voices, quieting immediately as the two of them came into view. Clary raised a brow at them, still tilting her head in respect to her alpha. The urge to defer to Talia had become so much stronger after her turn, it was like becoming a banshee had drawn her further into the pack.

Jon was clearly on edge at their tension. "It's Peter, again, isn't it?"

Clary froze. Peter had been confined at an undisclosed location after challenging Talia for alpha and being gravely injured. Plus they all knew - alpha injuries didn't heal as fast as normal ones, he would be lucky to recover at all, especially if Jonathan had anything to do with it.

Luke put up his hand, clearly not wanting an explosion. "We don't know if it's Peter. As far as we're aware, he's still secure. But there's been a body, torn in half. The mundane police got to it before us or the Institute. Either way, there aren't any mundane forces that can cause that kind of damage."

"Were any of our wards triggered?" Clary glanced between the two. If it had been a demon attack, their Seelie or warlock wards should have alerted the pack. Their faces told her that wasn't the case. "So this was a downworlder." She pursed her lips. "I guess we can expect another visit from Helen then. Derek should enjoy that."

She inclined her head again to Talia. "Come on, Jon. They'll take care of it." She grabbed her brother's wrist and dragged him out the front door of their pack's mansion. He really was going to be late to work and, at this point, she was going to be late for her first day of high school. Although, it would kind of be par for the course for the Frays.

Stiles was regretting his decision to give Simon and this mysterious cousin a ride to the first day back. Simon was chatting about all the plans he had with Clary and Stiles was just wondering how he had sunk to this level of nerd. They pulled up to the Argent house and Simon hopped out to ring the doorbell. Apparently, this cousin moved around a lot and the family was finally settling in Beacon Hills. A drop-dead gorgeous girl followed Simon out, dressed like all the trendy girls that Lydia Martin - his life-long crush - hung out with. Oh, this could be a very fortuitous encounter.

Simon opened the door, arguing with her, "No, I'll hop in the back -"

"Si, it's really okay. Sit by your friend. I'll sit in the back."

The two got themselves in the car and they were finally on the way. "Right, Stiles, this is my cousin, Allison. Allison, this is Stiles. He's the Sheriff's son, so he knows basically everything that happens around here."

He glanced in his rearview mirror and saw her grin. "Oh really? Anything exciting happen in this small town?"

Oh, this was his time to shine. "As a matter of fact, not usually, no. But last night, they found a body. My dad is calling out all the Beacon Department tonight to go search the woods and the Staties."

Simon scrunched up his nose. "If they found the body, what are they going out to search for?"

"Ah, you make a good point! You see, they only found half of the body."

He was gratified with the responses from the two passengers. They pulled up to the school and he saw Scott McCall - his best friend and general partner in crime - getting off his bike and being accosted by their captain of the lacrosse team. Good to know this year was already off to a typical start.

He hopped out and was about to cross the street to follow Scott when a jeep much nicer than his nearly ran him down. It came to a stop as he shouted at the driver. "Hey! Jonathan! Try not to run over the students here! Just because you're graduated and done doesn't mean the rest of us aren't trying to get out of here in one piece!"

The mysterious older Fray leaned out of his window, mostly to wave to his sister. "Always a pleasure, Stilinsky. Do me a favor and keep an eye on my sister. I'll be sure not to run over you next time."

"Yeah, sure thing!" he shouted at Jonathan as he drove away, clearly in a hurry and not intending to listen to Stiles' response. "Asshole."

Simon and Clary wandered over to where he was still standing next to his blue jeep. "What's with Jonathan today?"

Clary sighed. "It's family business. Stuff brought up about my incident has him on edge again."

Stiles eyed her. Family business is what anyone related to the Hales called internal affairs there. It meant "stay out of it". But that really wasn't his style.

Allison was still hovering by her cousin. "Sorry, Simon seems to have forgotten his manners. I'm his cousin, Allison Argent."

Clary immediately brightened, "Oh! I was so excited to finally meet you! I'm Clarissa, but everyone calls me Clary, Clary Fray. And the grumpy one in the tank was my brother Jonathan."

They all began moving toward the school, Scott still waiting on them on the other side of the lot.

Simon seemed to snap out of his quiet streak. "Clary and Jonathan are part of the Hale family. They own like half of Beacon Hills and all of Beacon Preserve."

She clucked her tongue at him. "We're not actually Hales, Simon. Remember? Jon and Laura are dating." She said it like it was the worst thing she could imagine.

Allison piped up again, "So if you're not part of the family, how are you related?" She hesitated, "If you don't mind me asking."

Clary eyed the other girl, clearly evaluating her. Stiles watched the interaction, finally catching up to Scott who was in some kind of trance - staring at Allison just as intensely as Clary. She made some kind of decision, a small smile twitching in her cheek, "The Hales took my family in the night I was born. My mother was in labor, with nowhere to go. Talia was there, helped my mother and Luke through the birth, and offered us a home and family. We've been with them ever since. I was raised with Cora, Laura, and Derek, right alongside Jon. We're family, no matter what."

Scott was surprisingly the one who reacted. "That's amazing. I didn't know that was how you guys were related to the Hales."

Stiles grinned. "Yeah, I just figured you were long lost cousins or something."

Anything else that would have been said was drowned out by Cora's arrival.

"Cllaaarrrryyyy!!!!" She bowled into the tiny redhead and Stiles took that as his and Scott's cue to head to English.

Scott leaned into Allison, asking her where her first class was. Of course she was in their English class. He couldn't just have a normal first day. Why would he have a normal first day? Sophomore year was cursed - everyone knew that.

He held back behind Scott and Allison, who were shamelessly flirting, only barely hearing what Cora and Clary were saying as they walked some distance behind him, Simon dutifully wearing headphones so they could speak in peace.

Clary seemed to be sharing some family gossip, "Talia and Luke seemed worried it might have been Peter. If he's able to shift, he might not have control - he'd easily be capable of that kind of damage."

"No matter what, we have to assume it was a wolf. Raphael accounts for all the vamps, it's too messy for a warlock, and our wards rule out a demon attack."

"Jon is ready to just storm up there and kill Peter himself, guilty or not. He thinks he's too dangerous to keep alive, after what happened with me and that family. We still haven't found the girl. Nerissa said there was no trace, which means the Desert Wolf likely took her."

"If Jon does that, mom will never forgive him. It might be enough to get him cast out of the pack. None of us have forgotten what Peter did. Don't forget, he challenged mom for alpha right after. He's lucky she let him live."

"What about your visions? Any help?"

"Nothing new. The same runes that don't make sense; the same dreams of the trio from New York. No help for us now. I just hope the pack finds the rest of that body before the mundane police or, angel forbid, the Institute."

"Oh no, is Helen here?"

"Not yet. I'm sure the Blackthorns have heard. With the mundies hearing first? There's no way the LA Institute doesn't know. We'll be lucky if it's just Helen. Andrew might come too this time."

"Let's just hope you have the angels' ears for once and we're the ones that find that body."

"And the wolf responsible."

"That too."

English didn't seem to be the language Stiles was processing as he sat down in class. He grabbed out his notebook and jotted down everything he could remember from what he'd heard.

- Peter might be murderer?
- Who is Peter?
- Apparently murderer is "wolf"
- can't be vamp, warlock, or demon
- either these things are real or the Hales are all crazy
- everyone accepts that Jonathan can easily kill someone
- nevermind. that one makes sense
- this Peter is the one who attacked Clary?
- the incident with Clary is tied to the attack on that family with the missing girl?
- incident = Peter = Clary = Desert Wolf = missing girl
- the above does not make sense
- they are all a pack - like wolves?
- Talia Hale is the alpha
- they're all werewolves!!!!
- this Peter challenged Talia for alpha and she almost killed him but let him live and now Jonathan wants to kill him but Talia won't let him or she'll throw him out....
- WHO IS PETER????
- oh Clary has visions? and dreams of someone in NY? something with runes?
- they keep saying things about angels
- they're worried about an Institute, or Helen or Andrew... maybe Blackthorn? sounds like their police
- apparently we're "mundies" or mundane

THE HALES ARE WEREWOLVES

Stiles stared at the paper in front of him. It felt like the evidence of a major conspiracy that only he had just uncovered. There was only one thing to do - he was going to find that body. He was going to find out what was really happening in this town, for real this time.

Jace was lounging on a bench, enjoying the view. It wasn't often they got out of New York, so he was going to take it all in while he could. Besides, there was something in him that had been pulling him to the West Coast for years and he just couldn't explain it. Alec and Izzy knew there was some kind of restlessness bothering him, so Maryse offered the three of them to go help the Blackthorns while Andrew was in Alicante dealing with politics.

The solid thunk of arrows hitting their mark as Alec practiced unnecessarily with his bow was soothing as they just relaxed in the calm of the early hours. The LA Institute didn't enforce the early rise policy of the New York Institute, so the kids were still in their rooms.

Helen wandered in, leaning against the doorway. Jace didn't need to look to know it was a mission.

"If it's that bad, just rip the bandaid off," he called out from his bench.

Alec lowered his bow, turning in interest. Helen snickered. "It's not that it's bad," she paused, never a good sign, in his experience, "It's that, if I include the three of you, I have a lot of explaining to do."

That pull that had sat in his chest for years suddenly thrummed to life. He sat up quickly, pressing his hand to his forehead. Alec flexed his hand, looking over at Jace with concern.

"What is it?"

Jace moved toward Helen. "Whatever you're not telling us, it has to do with something that happened seven years ago, doesn't it?" He watched her eyes widen as she nodded. "Good. I need you to tell me everything, and then I need you to take me there."

She sighed, "You don't understand, this is something we've been keeping from the Clave for years. Discovery would be disastrous, not just for us here, but for them. There's no telling what they would do with Cl-," she cut herself off.

"I should start at the beginning, I guess. Seven years ago, we were called out to a rogue werewolf attack. One of the local pack had been attacked - a young girl, who was in a coma, and a mundane family had been killed. We went and made contact with the pack only to find the alpha had handled it all. It wasn't a rogue attack at all. The Desert Wolf had been contracted to attack the girl,"

Alec interrupted her, "The Desert Wolf, as in the assassin?"

"Yes. The mundane family was collateral damage. The pack had already handled it. We stayed to see what it was about the girl that made her a target, only to find out that she was, is, Clarissa Morgenstern. Her mother is Jocelyn Morgenstern, her brother Jonathan, and guardian Lucian Greymark are all also members of the Hale pack."

Jace ran his hand over his face, "You're telling me the heroes of the Uprising are alive? And in hiding from the Clave - with a werewolf pack?"

Helen nodded. "It's not just who they are - it's what. Clary and Jonathan weren't born normal shadowhunters. Valentine experimented on Jocelyn while she was pregnant. Jonathan was born with demonic abilities, to the point that Jocelyn and Luke were afraid of him. They went to Talia and asked her to give him the bite, give him control - and it did. He's not dangerous, well, any more than any other grumpy downworlder boy, and is impressive.

"But it's Clary who is the miracle. She was born half-angel. No one really knew what it meant until literally the day before the incident. After the bite from a true wolf with blue eyes, she was turned to a banshee. The day we were there, she woke with a piercing scream. She told us she'd had a vision of runed men with circle runes, attacking three young shadowhunters in New York. She said she heard one of them say 'We only need the Wayland boy, kill the others.' That was when my dad called your Institute."

Alec stared. "She was the banshee that saved us."

Helen nodded.

Jace dropped his hand, "They heard her from the docks," he scoffed. "They heard her from California."

Izzy laughed from the hall, startling Helen. "At least we know we were right. There are no banshees in New York."

Alec laughed and shook his head. Leave it to Isabelle to avoid training but still catch the story.

It still didn't explain one thing, though. "But what does it have to do with me?"

Helen frowned, shaking her head. "I don't know what you mean."

Izzy moved into the room, exchanging a worried look with Alec. "Ever since that night, Jace has been - restless? Maybe is the way to describe it, I'm not sure."

Alec nodded, "It's like he's been drawn somewhere and he doesn't know where."

Helen held her hands out helplessly, "Maybe it's something to do with Clary, or maybe she'll have an answer. You never know with that one. No matter what, though, I have to go to Beacon Hills. Something tore a mundane in half and Talia's pack and the downworlders report everyone accounted for."

She clicked her tongue, "So, road trip?"

Immediately, everyone moved to gear up.

Clary's day was going surprisingly well. She had pretty much every class with Simon (as expected), except for her art class - taught by a newcomer, Satrina Kendall, who made an amazing impression for a first class. She had a feeling it was going to be a great year, no matter what drama the pack would inevitably dredge up. They were a pack, they would always deal with whatever happened.

The final bell rang and geometry was over - meaning so was their first day. Simon slammed his notebook closed with emphasis.

"Well, Fray, how do you feel about high school?"

She grinned and nodded, "Surprisingly good. Freshman year is supposed to be lifechanging, right? So, why not?"

He put his hand down on his desk as he shoved everything in his bag. "You know what? You're right. Let's go hang out at practice while we wait for Stiles to drive me and Allison home."

Clary groaned. "Oh, do we have to? Stiles just pines after Lydia and you just stare at the cheerleaders and I just sit there awkwardly."

"You could watch the lacrosse," he offered.

"That would require me understanding lacrosse." She gave him a grave look.

As they made their way to the field, Allison waved them over from where she was sitting next to - yep, that was Lydia Martin. Oh Stiles was going to love this. Clary and Simon sat next to her, watching a painful example of why Stiles and Scott both were benchers.

Allison turned to Clary, "He's not very good, is he?"

Clary glanced at the field, not even sure who was what number jersey, "Which one?"

"Scott, there." she pointed helpfully.

"Oh," Clary didn't need to see to know Scott wasn't good. It was just a fact. "No, Scott and Stiles are kind of just on the team to be on it. Plus Scott has really bad asthma."

Allison gave her a shy look, "You seem to know a good bit about him."

She huffed, "Small town. I know a good bit about pretty much everyone." She turned and saw the look on Allison's face, "Oh! You mean like that! No, I'm not really into dating. And Scott wouldn't be my type if I was."

"Who would be? Your type, I mean. I have a feeling my cousin wishes he were." She raised a dark brow.

Clary sighed, "Oh don't I know it. But no, I've had my eye on one guy for a long time and I'm pretty sure that's never going to happen."

Allison shrugged, "Don't be so sure. I've seen miracles, you know. And I believe in guardian angels. Maybe he's waiting for you too." She winked. "And I'll make sure my cousin gets the hint. Don't worry."

She found herself smiling. Girl talk was never this comfortable with Cora. But Cora always had some new boy she was bragging about and one of his friends that would be just perfect for Clary. She relaxed and leaned back on the bleachers, deciding to watch a little bit of the lacrosse. Allison was right - Scott was terrible.

A flash of bright blonde hair caught her eye - Jon shouldn't be here, he still had several hours on the clock at work. No, wrong kind of blonde. It was Helen. Cora had already caught her, clearly trying to run interception as they all generally did while someone warned Talia. That made it Clary's job to warn their alpha.

Talia Hale

Helen's here.

                Who's delaying?

Cora's got her

                Go help
                We'll have it covered
                before you get home.

Understood.

"You know, I have never understood Helen's way of tolerating people that deliberately talk in circles like that. I mean, it can't be fun, can it?"

She turned with a sharp retort on her lips that was lost in the sight of the three shadowhunters sitting casually on the bleachers as if they were meant to be there. As if she wasn't hallucinating them in broad daylight now. This was bad - this was very bad. Dreaming of them had been one thing, but for the angels to make her see them, here- now. That was just cruel.

She turned back to Simon and Allison, who were still enthralled in watching poor Scott get battered on the field. "Hey guys, Talia needs me so I'm going to head home."

Allison looked confused, and Clary knew she didn't remember who everyone was. Simon would explain it. Newcomers weren't common in Beacon Hills, it was always an adjustment. She stood and left the bleachers, striding past the images of the three people she usually only saw in her sleep.

She gave them a sideways glance and they seemed to take it as their cue to get up and follow after her. Of course they did. This couldn't be easy. She made her way over to where Cora was still chatting at Helen.

They both quieted as Clary joined them.

Cora looked past her shoulder, "Who're your new friends, Clare?"

Clary's heart dropped. Oh no. Oh no. Oh no. They were here. He was here - standing right behind her. For real. She had to play it cool. "I have no idea, actually. They didn't introduce themselves. And they were so rudely glamoured, so it wasn't like I could just talk to them."

Helen snickered, standing next to Cora with her arms crossed. "It's always great to see you Clary. Allow me to introduce Alec and Isabelle Lightwood," the two dark haired siblings nodded, "and Jace Wayland, of the New York Institute."

Cora was quick to snatch up the conversation, always covering Clary. That's what pack did. "New York? You're a long way from home, nephilim."

The sister smiled sweetly, "We were visiting with the Blackthorns when Helen got the call. We can never turn down a mission, especially an interesting one like this."

Clary and Cora's phones both vibrated and they saw it was Talia. Helen laughed. "I suppose that's your alpha saying it's okay to bring us to the mansion?"

Cora glared, but Clary feigned offense. "What? We would never keep you here while the pack met up and discussed how best to deal with the Institute's representatives! That's not how this works at all."

The golden boy openly laughed, while the siblings clearly looked like they were trying to hide their smiles. Helen just shook her head at Clary fondly. "Yeah, yeah. Just take us to see Talia."

Clary smirked as she followed Cora to her car. The four of them hopped in the Blackthorns' old beat up sedan and followed out onto the Preserve. Even without wolf senses, Clary felt more at ease as they got closer to the pack. Jon had become her anchor, and they always ran together during full moons. Since her turn, she was just as restless as the rest of them with the lunar cycle, even if she didn't shift.

They pulled up as Talia and Luke were already outside the mansion waiting for their arrival. Clary hopped out of Cora's ridiculous little sports car and let her drive it around to the garage, knowing that Cora hated the politics. It was more Clary and Jon's thing.

The shadowhunters pulled up right as Clary stepped up to incline her head to Talia, silencing any update she would have been able to give. She moved to stand next to her adopted father - which was what they'd officially named him now, though the state still called them Fray - both Clary and Jon had decided that Luke was dad.

Helen was the first out of the car, followed by the other three. Both Luke and Talia gave Clary an alarmed glance. She knew it was more than just surprise at there being more than just Helen here - they had seen her paintings; they recognized these nephilim. It was something she only shared with her family and Talia, as her alpha - the dreams and her paintings of them.

The two adults seemed to be waiting for her lead in how to proceed, so she held her head high, indifferent to her dreams or feelings for these shadowhunters - or one of them in particular. That seemed to be what Talia and Luke needed, and they resumed their typical postures of authority as the group approached.

Helen inclined her head, "Talia. It's always good to see you. I wish it were under better circumstances."

Their alpha cocked her head to the side like she always did, "Perhaps, then, you should come visit when it is not Clave business that brings you here, little one. You know you and Mark are always welcome with the pack."

Clary watched as Helen flinched. Luke picked it up as well, continuing the conversation for her. "I see you've brought friends. We thought it would be Andrew joining us, given the nature of our situation."

One of the Lightwood siblings - Alec, was his name, she remembered, answered for Helen, "We're on loan to the LA Institute while Andrew is in Alicante. If a situation calls for more than just Helen, we're what you get."

Luke chucked, "Well you must be Lightwoods. You," he gestured to the girl, "look exactly like Maryse did at your age, and you two could be twins, so. That leaves the Wayland boy." He looked over Jace with scrutiny. "You don't look much like Michael, but my kids look nothing like me, so who am I to judge."

Jace put his hands in the pocket of his jacket, leaning back against the car with a clearly practiced air of indifference, "Ah yes. We were informed the heroes of the Uprising were hidden here. That must make you Lucian Greymark, shadowhunter-turned-werewolf, former parabatai to Valentine Morgenstern." If Clary could have growled, she would have. Growing up around wolves did weird things to a person.

Luke raised his brows, "Oh good! You've heard of me, then."

Clary couldn't help but let out a laugh, only to get a red-eyed glare from Talia. She inclined her head deeply and walked backwards into the mansion, observing the proper respect to her alpha in front of these strangers.

From inside the entryway, she could hear Talia and Luke continue the pleasantries - thankfully with no more sarcastic remarks. Helen seemed to have recovered and taken back over her portion of the discussion, stating they were only there to assist the pack in finding the body and culprit before the mundane police and to keep the shadowworld protected, which meant they were all invited in for the meeting.

Clary had to move before they caught her listening and she dashed through the hall to the training room. Since she was little, they had decided to add a maze of rafters from the balcony that overlooked the training room, extending up into the high, domed ceiling. They gave the place a chic, industrial feel - but were also incredibly useful when training wolves, vamps, Seelies, and shadowhunters. The front door had swung open and she leapt from the floor to the balcony rafters, beginning her climb to the top. This was honestly one of her favorite things to do - right up there with sparring with Jon and painting. She didn't even need a sure-footed rune for it. Growing up with wolves taught her all the balance she needed.

"You know, I don't see any safety harnesses. A fall from that height would injure even the strongest wolf." It was Jace, down on the training room floor below her - far below her.

"You presume that any of us fall," she shouted down at him. She began her descent, just the way she'd always trained - as if someone was chasing her, as if the footholds were uncertain, as if a branch would break. She reached the balcony level and flipped down, landing on her feet.

"We train without our abilities. No runes for Jon and I, no wolfing out for the Hales - or Jon, no magic for the Seelies or warlocks - or Jon again, no speed or strength for the vamps. You train as a mundane, you become excellent as a mundane. Then you become extraordinary with your gifts. There's a reason the Hale pack doesn't really need Institute oversight. We are the oversight. We keep the downworld in line here. You cross Talia and you face the consequences, no matter who you are."

"So, you're like some kind of downworld private police force." He smirked at her, and it was more annoying than it should have been.

"No, it's just our home and we won't let some idiots get it overrun by the Clave." She narrowed her eyes at him. Maybe this was exactly what she needed to get him out of her system - meet him in person and find out he was a complete jerk.

He shrugged, "I guess that's no different than how most of us Institutes behave. We'd rather take care of it ourselves than get Idris involved. It's clear Helen wanted to protect all of you from the Clave - the whole LA Institute does. She only told us so that we'd know walking into this, you'd all know who we were."

Clary's eyes widened and she chewed on her lip. "Did she tell you how we would know who you were?"

He raised a brow at her, leaning back against a rack of training staffs, "Oh, you mean how you're the banshee that somehow reached a pack all the way across the country to warn them about how some Circle members were about to try and abduct me and kill my siblings? Yeah, she told us."

She scrunched her eyes closed, as if she could will away the embarrassment and vulnerability that came with that day. "I'm sorry," she mumbled.

He frowned at her, pushing off the rack of weapons to stand up straight. "Why would you be sorry? You saved us. I'm not sure you know me well enough to be sorry for that yet."

She scoffed, rolling her eyes. "I'm getting an idea. No, I'm sorry it happened to you. I'm sorry the Circle exists - that my fam-" she stopped herself. There it was, that guilt and self-loathing that she and Jon would only share with each other when it was a quiet night after a run on a full moon.

"If it's any consolation, I know who you are, who your mother is. You guys can't be blamed for what Valentine did. You weren't even born yet. You don't owe anyone an apology for anything you haven't actively done to them."

Clary wasn't really sure how to respond when the front doors slammed open. If she hadn't been so distracted, she would have sensed her brother coming long before he made it to the entry, but there he was, announcing his presence.

"Clary! I heard Helen brought a whole group of shadowhunters with her..." His voice trailed off as he took in the sight of Clary, still in her school outfit, and the blonde shadowhunter she'd been painting since she was seven.

She could feel Jon's power shift as he was ready to protect her. "Clarissa, what the fuck is going on here, and how is this him?"

Jace hadn't needed to be introduced to Clary Fray. He'd known exactly who she was the instant he laid eyes on her. His chest ached at the sight of her, like it was physically painful to be this close to her but not near her. She was tiny - clearly young. Her runes were well glamoured, but she had more permanent ones than he did - and he was an adult by shadowhunter standards, already eighteen and approaching nineteen soon.

It was odd. He knew she was a banshee, but she just looked like a shadowhunter to him. A beautiful one, but still just a shadowhunter. He jerked his head in her direction, across the sports field, where the mundanes where crashing into each other for fun - for some, maybe not so much for others. Alec and Izzy followed him over to the bleachers where they sat behind her.

She was engaged in what seemed an awkward conversation of denying relationships with a few different boys.

Her small nose scrunched up cutely, "Small town. I know a good bit about pretty much everyone." She seemed to startle at the look on the other girl's face, "Oh! You mean like that! No, I'm not really into dating. And Scott wouldn't be my type if I was."

"Who would be? Your type, I mean. I have a feeling my cousin wishes he were." Jace found himself curious as well.

Clary sighed, "Oh don't I know it. But no, I've had my eye on one guy for a long time and I'm pretty sure that's never going to happen."

The other girl shrugged at her, and Jace couldn't deny he liked her - she kind of reminded him of Izzy, "Don't be so sure. I've seen miracles, you know. And I believe in guardian angels. Maybe he's waiting for you too." She winked. Yep, that was definitely an Izzy move. "And I'll make sure my cousin gets the hint. Don't worry."

Jace got the opportunity to study her as she relaxed against the bleachers, smiling. He suddenly found himself jealous of whoever this guy was she'd been waiting a long time for. Was he blind? Or maybe just an asshole.

She jumped to attention, catching a glimpse of something across the field. Jace followed her stare and saw Helen with a dark haired girl, who was clearly keeping her there intentionally. Clary pulled out her phone and sent out a string of texts.

Responses buzzed and she sent a one-word reply, sliding it in her pocket. It must have been her alpha. Whatever else she was, she was part of the Hale pack. Something in him felt slightly nauseous at that idea.

"You know, I have never understood Helen's way of tolerating people who talk in circles like that. I mean it can't be fun, can it?"

She turned, sarcasm bright in her green eyes - and froze. Whatever retort she'd planned to say was gone. A panic filled her eyes before she turned to her friends to excuse herself. She rushed right past the three of them, barely a sidelong glance to show she knew they were there.

Jace hopped up to follow. He hadn't meant to chase her off - really, he'd just wanted to meet her. He was pretty sure it was all he'd wanted for the last seven years. Her shoulders had stiffened when her friend asked about them, almost as if she was startled they were behind her.

He was confused. She recovered so quick, making a joke about them being glamoured - as if that was weird here. He made a mental note to ask about that later. Helen made the introductions, calling her Clary but the girl from earlier had called her Clare - like they were close.

And there was the question. "New York? You're a long way from home, nephilim." Something about the way this girl said it made it clear they weren't particularly welcome. But she'd also stepped in front of Clary, clearly moving to get her out of sight and out of the conversation.

Izzy made a comment about being "on loan" to LA, but Jace was watching the way the wolf had moved between them and Clary, as if she were some closely guarded secret. He wanted to tell them that they already knew who the Hale pack was protecting and they wouldn't turn them in - but he doubted it would make the pack trust them.

And if he just outright declared he'd protect Clary with his life, well, that would probably be weird. Right?

Both girls' phones went off and Helen nudged Izzy, whispering something about a tight ship. They both laughed. "I suppose that's your alpha saying it's okay to bring us to the mansion?"

Cora glared, but Clary feigned offense, her green eyes bright, "What? We would never keep you here while the pack met up and discussed how best to deal with the Institute's representatives! That's not how this works at all."

Jace couldn't help himself. He laughed, while Alec and Izzy exchanged surprised smiles. Yeah, it had probably been a while since he'd just laughed at something other than a pun about battle. Helen just shook her head at Clary fondly. "Yeah, yeah. Just take us to see Talia."

The ride to "the mansion," as Helen had called it, was uncomfortable. It was a dirt road and they were thrown into the tiny car from the LA Institute, and Jace was wondering what kind of pack lived in a mansion out in the middle of the woods. Or what kind of pack had the loyalty of all the downworlders in the county. Whoever this Talia was, she must be something to behold.

They pulled around a curve and a monstrous home came into view. It wasn't as large as the cathedral that housed the New York Institute, but it was damn sure bigger than the Los Angeles Institute.

Helen cast a glance into the rearview mirror, "I know, right? Wait 'til you see their training room."

Jace made an undignified sound in response.

They all poured out of the Blackthorns' car to see Clary showing respect to a woman that could only be the alpha. At the sight of them, she turned back to Clary quickly, as if in surprise. The man standing beside her had only given them a sparing glance before shifting his gaze back to the tiny redhead.

His heart quickened. Something about the sight of them was enough for an alpha and leader of the pack to look to Clary for a cue. He had to be right. There was some kind of connection.

Clary didn't shrink under the stares of her alpha and the other wolf. She held her head up, which was the cue for Talia to continue business as normal. This was the second time he'd seen this pack surround Clary and protect her as if she were some treasure.

Helen started with her formalities, which were, of course, boring. Jace was intrigued with the alpha seemed to think so too. Talia cocked her head to the side like one of Magnus' puppies, "Perhaps, then, you should come to visit when it is not Clave business that brings you here, little one. You know you and Mark are always welcome with the pack."

All three of the Lightwood kids felt Helen flinch. It was a blow to anyone close to their family to act like they were just accepted somewhere else. The other wolf with Talia picked up on Helen's discomfort as well, continuing the conversation for her. "I see you've brought friends. We thought it would be Andrew joining us, given the nature of our situation."

Alec, the oldest, always ready to cover for them all - and next in line to take over the New York Institute if Alicante would ever get their heads out of their asses, spoke for Helen. "We're on loan to the LA Institute while Andrew is in Alicante. If a situation calls for more than just Helen, we're what you get."

The wolf chuckled. He looked familiar, like a face Jace could almost remember. "Well you must be Lightwoods. You," he gestured to Isabelle, "look exactly like Maryse did at your age, and you two could be twins, so." The two of them looked at each other with startled glances. "That leaves the Wayland boy." He looked over Jace with scrutiny. "You don't look much like Michael, but my kids look nothing like me, so who am I to judge."

Jace put his hands in the pocket of his jacket, leaning back against the car while he evaluated. Clarissa Fray - no, Morgenstern. Jocelyn Morgenstern, which means Lucian Greymark. He ensured there was nothing escaping him but his carefully crafted air of indifference, "Ah yes. We were informed the heroes of the Uprising were hidden here. That must make you Lucian Greymark, shadowhunter-turned-werewolf, former parabatai to Valentine Morgenstern."

"Oh good! You've heard of me, then." That was the best possible response he could have gotten. He couldn't help but grin. Even better, it got a laugh out of Clary, though Talia did not seem amused. Her alpha-red eyes flashed and Clary took her cue to bow out through the entryway, but it was like he could sense she hadn't gone far. It was likely she was listening to the remainder of the pleasantries.

Helen recovered from her distress about being welcomed to where her mother was, and began explaining their mission. "We're not here to take over from you. I know from experience how effective your pack is in handling your own downworlder mishaps."

Talia cocked a crooked smile. "Then I wonder why you're here, and with reinforcements?"

Helen sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. It was odd, to show so much raw emotion to an alpha like that. She obviously trusted Talia. "The mundane police are involved in this one. The entire shadowworld is at risk of exposure."

Luke growled low in his throat, "You think we don't know that? I'm on that mundane police force. I heard the call when they found the bottom half of the body. Those cops were out of their minds with fear."

Isabelle stepped up, always great with downworld relations. "Then you understand why we need to move fast and beat them to it, and find whoever did it before they do. We don't need another Salem or Gevaudan on our hands."

Talia gave a small nod. "You make an excellent point, Miss Lightwood." Izzy inclined her head. "I suppose this means we should invite you all in."

Luke moved behind her to open the gilded doors. Jace was again impressed with this massive building. Helen ushed them in past the alpha, behind Greymark. The entryway opened up to a vast parlor that had been converted into a training room. He bet it had been a ballroom once - it was way better as a training room. Racks of weapons surrounded the open space, with dummies placed at intervals, many with scorch or claw marks in them.

Looking up, he saw an artistry of rafters going all the way to the building's highest point. Flashing among those rafters, free climbing, was a splash of red hair. He did a double-take. How did she get up there? Glancing around the room showed no handholds or ladders - and, worse, no safety harnesses. She was just up on the rafters, nearing the top rapidly, with no protection and no supervision.

Izzy and Alec hung back from the group heading up the stairs where everyone else was following Talia to where the meeting must be. He waved them forward, gesturing that he'd be right behind.

He couldn't help it, he shouted up at her, "You know, I don't see any safety harnesses. A fall from that height would injure even the strongest wolf."

Her response from above was crystal clear, as if the dome directed her voice straight to him. He couldn't pretend it didn't affect him. "You presume that any of us fall." It wasn't a boast - there was no arrogance in her voice. It was like she was simply stating a fact - Hale wolves don't fall.

And then she stopped his heart with her climb down. Graceful couldn't begin to describe her movements. It was like she anticipated danger and was ready for it before it had a chance to touch her. She moved like the future was something she could touch and use; nothing could hurt her with it.

She fell from the final rafter into a flip, landing perfectly and Jace fought the urge to cheer.

Clary tossed her hair and adjusted her jacket, looking at him for the first time since he'd sat next to her on the bleachers. "We train without our abilities. No runes for Jon and I, no wolfing out for the Hales - or Jon, no magic for the Seelies or warlocks - or Jon again, no speed or strength for the vamps. You train as a mundane, you become excellent as a mundane. Then you become extraordinary with your gifts. There's a reason the Hale pack doesn't really need Institute oversight. We are the oversight. We keep the downworld in line here. You cross Talia and you face the consequences, no matter who you are."

He had to admit, the whole thing was very impressive, especially coming from someone nearly a foot smaller than him who could probably beat him in hand-to-hand combat.

He gave her his most charming smirk, "So you're like some kind of downworld private police force."

She glared at him. Apparently his charm wasn't as effective as he thought it was. Good job, Wayland.

"No, it's just our home and we won't let some idiots get it overrun by the Clave." She was still glaring at him, although now it seemed as if she was trying to decide something. He'd take it.

"I guess that's no different than how must of us Institutes behave. We'd rather take care of it ourselves than get Idris involved. It's clear Helen wanted to protect all of you from the Clave - the whole LA Institute does. She only told us so that we'd know walking into this, you'd all know who we were."

There it was, that same expression of panic he'd seen when she saw them on the bleachers. Her emerald eyes widened and she started chewing on her lip - probably an anxious habit. "Did she tell you how we would know who you were?" Her voice was quiet, all the fire and sarcasm gone out of it.

Jace realized this was somehow something that made her vulnerable. That was why the pack circled around her when it came to them. It was why even her alpha would defer to her with how to deal with them - whatever this was, it could hurt her.

He had to choose how to frame this. Easy, indifferent, like it wasn't world-changing was where he landed. He leaned back against the closest weapons rack shoving his hands in his pocket so she had no idea how much she affected him. "Oh, you mean how you're the banshee that somehow reached a pack all the way across the country to warn them about how some Circle members were about to try and abduct me and kill my siblings? Yeah, she told us."

Her face was pained, scrunched up, as if the memory hurt her. He couldn't help the disappointment that flooded him. He'd hoped there was a chance that day had changed her life the way it had changed his. Instead it just looked like she was embarrassed and trying to draw into herself.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled, barely audible.

He stood up, pushing himself off the rack of training rods. Of all the things she could have said, that was not what he expected. Did she regret the connection there was between them now? Had she caused the attack somehow? What was there to be sorry for?

He frowned at her, "Why would you be sorry? You saved us. I'm not sure you know me well enough to be sorry for that yet."

That earned him a small smile, which felt like an epic victory. She scoffed and rolled her eyes. "I'm getting an idea." She hesitated, her beautiful green eyes dark again, "No, I'm sorry it happened to you. I'm sorry the Circle exists - that my fam-" she stopped talking abruptly, turning away from him.

Jace recognized the guilt and self-loathing in her posture. He knew it far too well, and he didn't have near the reason she did - being a Morgenstern. He wanted to reach out to her, comfort her, but he had to remind himself he didn't know this girl. They met an hour ago.

He swallowed down the lump in his throat. "If it's any consolation, I know who you are, who your mother is. You guys can't be blamed for what Valentine did. You weren't even born yet. You don't owe anyone an apology for anything you haven't actively done to them."

Clary turned to look at him - for the first time, it felt like. No glare for his stupid humor, panic at discovery of her secrets, or pride in her pack; it was just her. Her eyes were probably the most beautiful shade of green he'd ever seen. Maybe he was biased. She opened her mouth, as if to say something, when she turned to the entry, as if there was something outside.

Seconds later, the doors banged against the walls behind them, a tall blonde shadowhunter striding in as if he owned the whole mansion, shouting as soon as he was inside the entryway.

"Clary! I heard Helen brought a whole group of shadowhunters with her..." His voice trailed off as he took in the sight of Clary, standing next to Jace, who knew he looked aggressive and suspicious.

A sense of magic, like a warlock's, filled the room. "Clarissa, what the fuck is going on here, and how is this him?"

Clary moved quickly to the strange shadowhunter, standing closer to him than she had even to any of her friends at that sports thing. Jace was not going to be jealous. That would be wildly inappropriate.

"Jon, relax. The Lightwoods and Jace Wayland," she said his name slowly and deliberately, as if making sure this Jon caught whatever meaning she was giving it, "are on loan to Helen from the New York Institute while Andrew is in Idris. They're here about the dead mundane. Nothing more."

The charged atmosphere in the large training room did not change. Clary sighed. "Jonathan! If you can't reign it in, I will either make you or just go get Talia and she can deal with you."

Jonathan was still glaring at Jace. Finally, his gaze shifted down to Clary. "Fine, just because I don't feel like getting my ass kicked by my little sister while we have guests." He took a deep breath and rolled his shoulders and it was like the air was suddenly crisp and more fresh than it had been before. "You know where Laura is?"

Clary made a face. "I'm sure she's in their big planning session that I'm presently hiding from."

Her brother sighed, "You know, they want you there for a reason. Not just because it's pack business."

"I know." She gave a slight grin, and Jace followed it with his eyes, making sure Jonathan was still ignoring his presence. "But I also know the only reason you go to these high and mighty meetings is to be with your precious Laura." She said the name in a sing-song voice, clearly teasing her very dangerous brother.

Jonathan huffed. "I should fight you for that."

"But you won't, because you have a meeting to go to and Laura to see." She cocked her head to the side, similar to how he had seen Talia do before. "It's fine, Jon. I'll take a raincheck on the fight for your honor."

Her brother turned and went up the steps to the second floor, just as Jace had seen the Lightwoods and Helen do before.

He cleared his throat admiring that she was now far more at ease. "So, can I ask what that was about?"

"What? Jon? Oh, he's always like that. You just have to know how to handle him and then he's great. My favorite person in the world, actually." She smiled, as if to herself.

Jace whistled. "That's a pretty big honor. I hope he acquits himself well."

She laughed, "What do you mean?" She was staring up at the rafters, and he had absolutely no warning before she leapt to the first one. She landed on it as easily as he would land on a fence - only she was thirty feet in the air.

He craned his neck upward to see her, sitting with her feet just dangling. "So this is extraordinary, huh?"

"No, this is just plain old impressive. I didn't use any runes. You can if you need to though, or I can just shout down to you, it's fine." She giggled.

Wow, what a showoff. He braced himself and centered all his strength and jumped, landing on a rafter above her. He wobbled, his feet unsure at the sudden lack of floor, but Clary was fast with her stele and had a sure-footed rune on him faster than he could even process that he needed one.

She laid down on her back on her rafter, a level beneath him, content to stay there, grinning at him. His chest swelled with pride. He had to admit, the pull and restlessness he'd felt for the last seven years had completely disappeared since he'd sat next to her on those bleachers.

"Okay, your turn. What did you mean about my brother acquitting himself well?"

He sat with his legs on either side of the beam, one of his feet nearly touching her elbow as she had her hands pillowing her head. He leaned back on his hands. "I just meant that being your favorite person in the world, that's not something to take lightly. I mean, if I were someone's favorite person, I would always want to be a person that lived up to that, that did right by them."

Her face grew thoughtful. "Yes, I think that's pretty much Jon. Ever since the incident, he's always wanted to make sure I was safe, that he never messed up like that again. We tell each other everything and we protect each other. We're better together."

Jace smirked, "Sounds like parabatai."

Clary sighed. "We asked brother Zachariah if it would be possible for us to be parabatai. He said that, with Jon's demon blood and now wolf bite, plus my being a banshee now - we likely would reject the ceremony."

Jace though about himself and Alec, what it would have been like if they had done everything, gone through all the training, known how connected they were, just to be told it wasn't possible. "That's awful. I'm so sorry. I would have caused quite a ruckus if the Silent Brothers hadn't let me and Alec go through with our ceremony."

"Well, we always knew it was a long shot. We just thought that, since we can both still bear runes, maybe..." she sniffed, as if realizing she was getting too deep with a stranger. "Alright, you answered my question. I guess that makes it your turn."

Jace raised a brow at her, "I didn't realize we were playing a game."

She shrugged, "Well, to be fair, I reserve the right to change the rules and refuse to answer at any given point."

He smirked at her, "Seems perfectly reasonable. Why does the whole pack close ranks around you at the sight of us?"

"I'd like to say I don't know what you mean, but Cora was obvious and even dad and Talia were pretty clear that they were waiting for my cue," she groaned, "It has a lot to do with what you already know - I had a vision of you three, you were saved. If anyone ever came looking for me, that's a whole lot for the pack to explain - how I was attacked, why, why my family is with the pack to begin with - it's better to just keep me as a closely guarded secret."

Somehow, that didn't feel like the whole story. It certainly explained Cora, which put a name to the wolf from the sports field, but not Talia and Luke's reaction. Theirs was one of recognition, not threat. They had seen the three of them before.

He hummed. "Okay, doesn't that make it your turn?"

Clary moved to stand, putting her hands against the beam he was sitting on, not close to him, but enough to make him wish she were.

She pushed off from his beam and was standing freely on her own, pacing on it, and about to give him a heart attack. "My question," she hummed, thinking, "How does a Wayland end up living in NY and calling Lightwoods family?"

"You know, you're making me nervous." She raised a brow and bent down gracefully into a handstand on the beam. "Right, okay, fine. My father was killed by Circle members right in front of me when I was ten, I was sent to the New York Institute, where Robert and Maryse took me in as if I was their own."

Clary tumbled herself back down to sit on the beam, a despair in her eyes. "I'm so sorry." She was biting her lip again. Jace decided it wasn't a nervous habit, it was a self-punishing one.

"What did I tell you about saying you're sorry? Only apologize if you've actively done something to someone."

She rolled her eyes at him. He counted that as a victory. "And I'm pretty sure that makes it my turn."

"Yeah and I think you get a good one, because that was a sad answer. So, ask away."

"Okay," Jace took a deep breath. "Is there some kind of connection between us? Because I've been drawn here to this spot for the last seven years. Is that what your brother meant by 'how is this him'?"

Clary looked away. He couldn't read anything in her posture.

Suddenly, she wasn't on the beam any more. She hadn't said a word, but she'd dropped down soundlessly into a perfect crouch. Jace was quick to follow - far less gracefully from the height. It wasn't like she had told him not to follow. They went up the stairs and passed the door where all the raised voices of the inevitable meeting was taking place. He was sure Alec and Helen would fill him in. They rounded nearly the whole balcony to a corner, where names indicated these rooms belonged to the Fairchilds and "Garrowway".

Clary walked right past their doors to one that had several deadbolts. She pulled out her stele and drew runes he'd never seen before - a different one on each lock. Slowly, all of them clicked into place and she drew an unlock rune on the doorknob.

Jace raised a brow, "A little excessive, don't you think?"

Her only response was a quick look over her shoulder, not even really at him. She opened the door and Jace was pretty sure he'd been inflicted with sudden blindness - and maybe sudden hearing loss. There was no sound in the room at all, no ambient noise of pages rustling, of the trees outside, of the creaking of the old house - just, silence.

His eyes adjusted, slowly, only to realize sunshine was bottled in various places around the room - strategically placed to provide the perfect lighting for the dozens of easels that filled every bit of floor space. Most had partially finished images on them, many were scribbled with runes - some from the Grey Book, but tons of others that he had never seen.

He went to run his hand along one of the unknown runes and she caught at his wrist. "Don't! You'll activate it." She lowered her gaze. "Jon accidentally did once and it took me a week to get him back to speaking English," she released his wrist. "Still think my locks are excessive?"

Jace let out an amazed laugh. "I think I know a few warlocks from the Spiral Labyrinth who would kill to get in here." He spun around in amazement. She was more than he'd even imagined. "Is the answer to my question in here?"

Clary nodded seriously, making her way to a back corner that wasn't lit with the bright sunshine that the whole rest of the room was. There was a single easel and a cloth rack that held finished canvases, all just laying in there, back-to-front. This corner was lit with a single witchlight lantern, bathing it in a silvery, almost moonlight, glow.

She gestured to the rack of canvases. "You want to know if there's a connection between us, there you go. I'll, um," she fumbled over her words, "I'll be next door, uh, in my room."

Her red hair flared out behind her as she dashed out the door. Jace watched in complete bewilderment. This whole room was a testament to her awe? Power? Incredibility? None of those words quite caught what it was when he looked around and saw exactly what it was Clary could do: Paint beautifully, create runes, catch sunlight in bottles - no, as he looked closer, those were also runes, activated runes bottled and burning. Apparently she could make her very scary brother speak another language for a whole week simply by his touching one of these works of art.

But she had made it seem like he should look through these particular paintings, so he would count it as an honor, and take it on faith that he wouldn't explode or something.

He pushed them all back so he was looking at the one up front first. His breath caught. He knew that alley - it haunted his nightmares frequently enough. Pulling it out all the way, he could see she'd painted it exactly as they'd been - Izzy and Jace at opposite buildings with Alec stuck at the opening of the alley. From the canvas, he could see the two Circle members perched on the roof, as well as the one in the shadows, only, the only thing visible on him was the glowing red Circle brand on his neck. Behind the alley was the NY pack, poised and ready to attack.

His hands were shaking as he replaced the painting to pull out the next one. It was of himself, Izzy, and Alec in their training room. Izzy and Alec were sparring with each other, but Jace was sparring with Hodge - their tutor. But Clary had painted their tutor in shadows, just as she had painted the man in the alley, with only his circle rune clearly visible. This was weeks after the incident with the Circle. Jace remembered this training session, Hodge had told him to always keep getting better - that he was making his father proud.

There were several others, just life at the Institute. Hodge always painted in shadows, but Maryse and Robert - who had also been members of the Circle, painted clearly and delicately. He started going through them quickly - okay, so the connection between them was that she had seen most of his life, watched him grow up, knew his family.

He stopped pulling the canvases out, just flicking through them in the rack, until he reached one that didn't have the same grey and blue tones of New York and the Institute - this was all gold and red, with rich browns. It was a portrait of him - of Jace, sitting at the piano in the Institute, playing while the sun rose through the stained glass window across from him. As he stared, he realized she had every detail right - where each of his runes were placed, where his hands were on the keys, the image of the stained glass - even the small scar on his eyebrow. She knew him. He searched the painting as if it might have any other clues and all he noticed was the light from the window flared around him, rather than passing over and landing in a shadow behind him.

He was sure there were more, if he kept looking, but this was the one he wanted to ask her about. What did this painting mean? He went out into the hall, dodging all the canvases on the way out, being sure not to accidentally touch any of the runes. He closed the door to her studio, hearing all the locks click as runes glowed all down the side to the handle.

He paused in front of the doors that had been labeled 'Fairchild'. One of them had to be Clary's. Each had a painted symbol on them - Clary's work - a white wolf, crossed seraph blades over the mortal cup, and then a rune of angel's wings connected by a bar, looking like some kind of blade's crossguard. That was it, that was her room.

The door was slightly ajar and it pushed open as he knocked. He wanted to take in her room, see what he could glean of her from it, but a glow from the book in front of her stopped him in his tracks.

"What is that?"

There was a resigned sadness in her eyes as she met his stare. "Just an old notebook. Jon bought it for me before the attack."

Jace scoffed, "Pretty sure I've seen notebooks. That doesn't look like a notebook."

Her eyes widened. She held up the book, pages facing him, "What do you see?"

"This is a joke, right? There's golden runes on the pages."

She dropped the book and ran to a shelf, grabbing a jar of ash before dashing to where he stood. She yanked the canvas out of his hand and tossed it on her bed, where it joined the book of runes.

"Come on," she grabbed his wrist and tugged him along after her into the hallway.

He let himself be dragged all the way down to the room where the voices of the meeting were still audible through the door. Clary pushed the door open without any ceremony and the room hushed at her presence. Jace suddenly regret many life choices at that moment - many, many life choices.

There was a large table at the center of what appeared to be a gigantic conference room - easily large enough to house all the downworld members and the visiting shadowhunters who were in there at the moment.

Clary pulled him up to the table and used the ash to draw out a straight line. He realized it was mountain ash, the type that formed a protective barrier from downworlders. She ran her hand over the line and it glowed golden, much like the bottled sunlight in her studio or the runes in her book. It was then she grabbed his hand and ran it over the line. He knew he could pass over it as a shadowhunter, so he wasn't really sure what the point was here.

There were audible gasps all around the room as the ash glowed gold once again.

Clary stepped away, leaving him at the table, staring at his own hand in confusion. She was suddenly no longer the small girl from the bleachers or the vulnerable one in the studio - she was a prophet, with her head held high and posture strong, pronouncing a hidden truth that only she could possibly know.

"We have found another of Valentine's experiments."

Chapter Text

Scott was nursing his bruises and his ego - mainly his ego. Simon's cousin, Allison, had watched him basically be a punching bag for the entire team. What a way to impress a girl - especially a beautiful one who actually talked to him. Way to go, McCall. Really did it this time.

He hadn't been able to even look at her in the stands - way too embarrassed. He groaned, throwing himself on the bed. He grabbed his lacrosse stick, working to repair the damage today had done to the head, when there was a noise from outside.

His mother kept a baseball bat next to the door, so he grabbed it and headed out, taking slow, cautious steps. He heard the noise again around the side of the house, raising the bat about to swing at the bushes, just in case.

Stiles popped out, clinging to the second floor balcony, yelling and Scott held the bat back, also yelling.

"What are you doing?"

"What do you mean? What are you doing?"

"I'm here to get you! Why do you have a bat?"

"I thought someone was breaking in! Why are you hanging upside down?"

Stiles dropped down, not gracefully in the least. "Put some clothes on, we're going to find that body."

Scott groaned, "No. After the beating I took today, I'm going to sleep and wallow in self pity."

Stiles nudged him in the shoulder, "No, no, no, no. See? This is exactly what you need. Go out for an adventure, give you a sense of purpose, excitement - solve a mystery! Be a hero! Show those jerks on the team that you're not useless."

"You suck at pep talks, you know that, right?"

His best friend shrugged, "Yeah, but now you're gonna come, right?"

"Yeah, yeah. Let me get my jacket."

He saw Stiles silently celebrate. He loved his best friend, even if he was overly excitable most of the time. Still, an adventure through the woods, where they would likely find nothing, did sound good. After all, what were the odds two kids would find the body that the police were out in force searching for?

He threw on his hoodie and shoes and met Stiles at his jeep, driving out to the Hales' preserve. It was pretty quiet where they parked - all the cops must have been searching at the other entrances.

Scott snorted, "You listened on your dad's radio to know where they were starting their searches, didn't you?"

"Pssh, I would never do such a thing!" They both just laughed as they hopped out with flashlights.

They wandered quietly for a few minutes before Scott wondered how far Stiles had thought this through. "They only found half of the body, right?"

"Yeah."

"So which half are we looking for?"

Stiles made an unsure noise, "I didn't consider that."

Scott humphed. "And what do we do if the killer is still out here?"

Stiles made the noise again. "I didn't really consider that either."

"So you didn't really think this through, did you?"

They heard a noise over the hill in front of them and they both dropped, turning off their flashlights. Scott peered over and saw the cops with their cadaver dogs.

"Shit, your dad is right there."

"Aw, man. We're so busted."

"Let's make a break for it. Maybe they won't see us." Somehow, Scott wanted to keep searching. Maybe Stiles' pep talk worked after all.

"Alright, on three. One - two - three!"

They took off away from the hill, leaping over roots, dodging branches and trees. Scott heard barking and knew they'd actually been seen. Stiles slowed down and waved at Scott to keep going. Always the one to take the fall.

Scott could hear the Sheriff telling everyone to stand down, that Stiles was his. Well, at least he wasn't going to get arrested. Scott kept running until he realized he was about to have an asthma attack. He stopped, leaning against a tree. His lungs weren't pulling in any air and he realized he was going to pass out at any minute.

He pulled out his inhaler and puffed it into his mouth, forcing the mist down into his lungs, feeling it expand. He took another puff, being able to breath this one in. It was then he realized he didn't recognize any of the forest around him. They didn't tend to venture very far into the preserve, since it was private property and all.

A howl to his left startled him - and apparently a group of deer that crashed right into him, knocking him down and pushing him down another hill and onto a lower level of the forest floor. He reached for his flashlight, but he couldn't find it to turn it on. He pulled out his phone, hoping the screen could provide enough light to find it.

In his panic, he reached for his inhaler, only to realize it wasn't in his pocket anymore. He must have dropped it in the fall. Great. No flashlight, no inhaler - he checked his phone - no signal. This is what people referred to as shit out of luck. He heard the howl again, much closer this time.

The panic rose and he really wished he had his inhaler. He tried to stand, only to slip and fall on something squishy. He glanced down and realized it was the other half of the body. Of course it was, because how could this get any worse - or creepier. A growl came from somewhere around him, nowhere that he could see, but that didn't mean much as he had no light, no way to see anything beyond what was right in front of his face.

And that was too late. It snarled as it lunged at him, teeth sinking into his side. Then it was gone. Scott stood as best he could, wandering to what he thought was the edge of the preserve. Finally, as if in a trance, he made it to a dirt road. A jeep he was pretty sure he recognized stopped in front of him. A blonde man with glowing green eyes hopped out, saying something he was sure he would normally understand.

The man picked him up and put him in the passenger seat of his jeep. He didn't buckle Scott in. Didn't he know anything about safety? Oh well. At least Scott wasn't still in the woods with the body and that wolf. Being in a jeep without a seatbelt was way better than that.

Leave it to his baby sister to walk into a heated meeting and drop a bomb like that. Jonathan couldn't help but smile at the chaos, but their mother was already yelling at her.

"Clarissa! What do you think you're doing, interrupting our meeting - a meeting you should have been in attendance of, by the way - and just dropping this on us?"

The warlocks, Tessa and Dot were examining the mountain ash with unfettered curiosity. It wasn't like they hadn't seen it react to Clary before, but to someone new? That was a novelty. Others were shouting about what it would mean to have others out there - others that might have abilities like Clary or Jonathan, and what that might mean for the downworld.

Talia had said nothing, betrayed nothing in her expression. She glanced at Clary, who was still as stone - impassive as she only was when she bore a truth of the angels. Their alpha gently cleared her throat, and those who heard her quieted at once. The others who were still too loud continued in their arguing.

"I'd advise you to quiet down." Jonathan smirked at Rafael and Kaelie who had been arguing loudly about the need to purge any shadowhunters who had ties to Valentine. Since he'd turned eighteen, he'd become an enforcer for the pack. Show your respect to the alpha or deal with him. Stay in line, or deal with him. It was an effective deterrent.

Talia raised a brow. "Clearly this is an intriguing development, and it brings many things into question. But the question we have most pressingly in front of us is who killed this mundane and where is her body?" She looked expectantly at his sister.

This was why they wanted Clary in these meetings. They wanted her to bring them answers from the angels. Sometimes it happened, sometimes it didn't. If Jonathan had to bet, he'd bet that it would this time. Something had drawn her to the room. The angels had something to say.

She closed her eyes and grabbed her stele. Jon always loved watching his sister like this. It was a reminder that she was just as powerful as he was; that he wasn't alone, he would always have Clary. The runes on her skin glowed golden as she took her stele and began carving into the table - the quickest surface she had access to. He knew the runes would take shape as words to her when she was done, a message or answer to the question they had asked or perhaps the one they should have asked. The golden symbols glimmered on the table as everyone watched in awe.

She stepped away, sliding her stele away into its spot on her belt. Her runes faded back to their black on her skin as she observed the ones on the table, quickly reading over them as they dissipated into a golden dust, drifting off.

"Leave the body, it's irrelevant. The mundanes can find it, but it will lead to nothing." Clary spoke directly to Talia, no one else needed to know. They were all coincidental. "Follow Scott McCall. He'll lead you to the killer."

Jonathan spoke up. "A sixteen year old boy? He's supposed to lead us to whoever did this?"

Clary glared at him. He was going to hear about this later, probably during a sparring match. "My visions don't lie. Scott McCall will lead us to the killer. He's in my orbit of friends at school. It won't be hard for me to watch him, see what this is supposed to mean."

"No," their dad's voice rang through the room. "You risk too much exposure. It's often you know things you shouldn't, or move to prevent something before it happens. We need someone who will observe, not interfere."

Jonathan watched Clary's hands flex at her sides. Yeah, there was a fat chance she wasn't going to interfere. "And who did you have in mind?" he asked.

Talia tilted her head in that characteristic way she had of making herself seem less menacing. "Cora, of course."

Derek snickered from the other end of the room and Laura elbowed him. Jon couldn't help but echo the sentiment. Cora hated pack politics. She would not be happy about this.

Helen rolled her shoulders, clearly tense. "So while you pursue this lead of the boy, are we really going to leave the body to the mundane police?"

Everyone looked to Talia for an answer. She considered the shadowhunter, her gaze sweeping over the other three Helen had brought with her - the three his sister had been painting since she'd been turned. "Clarissa said the body is irrelevant. She didn't say it was not meant for us to pursue, only that, if the mundanes find it, it will lead to nothing. I see no reason for us to discontinue the search for it if we can spare the resources."

Kaelie stepped up to the table from behind Nerissa. "And of the boy? Valentine's experiment?"

Jonathan saw his sister move defensively in front of the Wayland boy. Interesting. One of the other shadowhunters stepped up next to Helen. "We're representatives of the Clave, harming one of us would be a breach of the Accords."

A chorus of voices rang out at that, none of the downworlders appreciating the Lightwood boy's threat. He could sense his sister's anger from across the room and knew what was coming. He allowed his magic to cloud over his eyes as he blocked his hearing from what was about to happen.

Clary's runes glowed brightly as she released a screech that brought everyone in the room to their knees. Jon leaned back against the wall, arms crossed. As people stood back up, the Fairchild siblings were the only two standing.

"That is enough out of all of you. We're here to work together. So work together." She inclined her head to Talia, yielding the silence to her.

Their alpha stepped up into the center of the room. "Helen and her team will take point on the search for the body, since it's their priority. Our pups will keep an eye on the child. The rest of us will divide up between searching for what might have been able to do this damage and helping the shadowhunters." She nodded, "My pack - get to work. Tessa, Dot, stay."

Jonathan moved to leave, thinking he'd rather be out in the woods searching for the body than researching and doing forensics.

"Jonathan," it was Talia. "I want you and Clary here as well."

He turned and the group had dwindled down to his parents, the warlocks, Helen and her group, Clary, and now himself.

"We need to talk about what happened here. Clary, you can't barge into a meeting and drop something like that onto the whole council!" Talia was furious.

Mother moved forward to calm their alpha. "You know she can't help it. Once there's a truth to tell, she has to."

"I understand that, but it wouldn't have even been a discovery if she'd been in the meeting as expected."

Luke raised a brow at the two still in the center of the room, "Clarissa, why weren't you in the meeting?"

Jon smirked, "Isn't it obvious? She was eavesdropping and had to bail when you came in. She got stuck hiding up in the rafters again."

Clary glared at him, but the Wayland boy standing next to her stifled a laugh. "Yeah, that's about where I found her."

Both of their parents ran their hands over their faces. Luke hiding a grin, but mother clearly frustrated. Talia stared at the ceiling for a moment, "Very well. Clary's antics aside, we need to figure out what it means to have a second angel-blooded nephilim here."

Helen held up a hand, "Are you saying Jace is like Clary?"

Tessa spoke up, "No, he would be more like Clary was before the incident."

Jon cocked his head, crossing his arms, "So basically nothing special."

A chorus of "Hey!"s went up around the room. He smirked, turning to wink at his sister, who was still glaring at him good-naturedly. She knew it was true.

"How could you all possibly know any of that just by passing my hand over a little bit of mountain ash?" the boy ran his hand past the line again, causing it to glow yet again.

Jonathan walked over and attempted to run his hand past the line, a small explosion resulting from the force of the reaction. "The reaction varies by blood, as you can see."

Tessa moved to Jonathan's side. "Jonathan was born with the blood of a greater demon, hence the more severe reaction than, say, a ravenor. Lesser demons are contained, perhaps even pushed from the barrier, but only a greater demon is powerful enough to elicit this reaction."

The older Lightwood moved up to glance at the line of ash on the table. "And I suppose you've experimented to determine this?"

Jon grinned, "What? We would never do something as dangerous as summoning a greater demon just to satisfy our curiosities!"

The Lightwood sister snickered, "Now I believe the two of you are related," she gestured between Clary and himself.

Talia waved a hand. "All experimentation aside, we can say with reasonable certainty that the mountain ash glows in the presence of pure angel blood. The only way we've ever known of anyone having it is through Valentine's experiments. So," she extended her hand out to the three shadowhunters from New York, "Why don't you tell me how that's possible?"

"It's not. Jace has been with our family for years!"

Dot raised a brow, "Ah, but being with you for years is not being with you since he was conceived. The changes wrought on Clarissa and Jonathan were while Jocelyn was still pregnant with them."

Jon watched his mother shift uncomfortably.

Jace crossed his arms across his chest. "Well my parents are dead, so it's not like we can ask them."

The warlocks shared a glance. Tessa spoke carefully. "Clary may be able to discover the truth, if you'd let her."

Dad waved his hand, stepping forward. "Woah, why don't we get some details first, before we go having my daughter do any of that?"

Helen nodded, "That's probably a good idea. Jace?"

He shrugged. "My parents were in the Circle, yeah. My dad fled during the battle at the Uprising, making him a target for the remaining Circle members - they called him a traitor. Mom died in childbirth, dad raised me in isolation at Wayland manor in Idris until the Circle members caught up to him when I was ten. Killed him right in front of me. Then I was sent to the New York Institute and the Lightwoods took me in. The rest is history."

The two Lightwood siblings nodded, sad expressions on both their faces as they watched their adopted brother. Clary wore a stoic expression, as if none of what the boy had said had made it to her. Jon knew what that meant - that, despite what Luke had said, she was already in the past, seeing what had really happened.

Everyone's eyes turned to her as the sound filtered out of the room, a rune on her arm glimmering brightly. Tessa nodded, as if communicating with his sister, and they all watched as the silence was overwhelming. Jace's gaze seemed to only be for Clary. Jonathan noted that for later.

It was as if the atmosphere refilled the room as Clary let the power of her rune go. His sister took a deep breath, glancing at Tessa, who nodded encouragingly.

"Jace, born Jonathan Christopher, to a beautiful woman with bright blue eyes and golden hair. She'd lost children before, stillborn, so she gladly accepted Valentine's offer to help make her child strong enough to survive." Clary flinched, as if in pain, "After that, there are so many images, so much pain. A husband and father, dead within days of each other, a wife dead by her own hand, a child ripped from the womb, homes burnt to the ground, a father and son murdered - an angel imprisoned."

She gasped, holding her head, "An angel, our angel." She looked about to fall over. Jonathan was there in seconds. She stared at him blankly, "Jon, he still has the angel."

She fell unconscious in his arms. The Lightwood boy spoke up, "There's your connection, Jace. The same angel blood runs in both your veins. No wonder you were pulled here."

Jonathan nodded, "Well I'll let all of you figure out what any of Clary's visions and runes mean. I need to get her to bed."

Jace moved to help, only to be stopped by a glare. "Is she okay?"

Their dad held out a hand, "She'll be fine. She just needs to rest."

Talia's voice was quiet, "He still has the angel."

Jonathan paused in his task of taking his sister to bed, "You don't think she means -"

Their mom answered for him, "Your father. Yes, I think she does. Valentine must still have the angel imprisoned."

He turned without a word, taking his sister out of the room with him. That wasn't a discussion he could be a part of. There had been a time he was angry with mother for taking them away from Valentine, thinking she had torn their family apart. But the more a part of the pack he'd become, the more he understood how awful it was to be a Morgenstern - to feel that responsibility.

Closing Clary's door, he ducked into his own room, grabbing his keys. It was time for a drive, to clear his head. Normally, he'd go for a run, but there were shadowhunters here and they likely wouldn't appreciate if he decided to be a giant white wolf out in the woods.

He thought about his sister's hint that the McCall kid would lead them to the wolf who tore a mundane in half. A wolf that out of control was either out of its mind or new. Either way, it would be better if the pack found them before the Institute. If it was something that could be helped, the pack would teach a new wolf. The Institute would just send them to the Gard for sentencing. Another lovely fundamental part of being a shadowhunter. The Law is hard but it is the Law. One of their great codes.

The engine roared in his jeep. "By the angel, I love this thing," he muttered to himself. There was no denying that he loved his family and his pack, but there was still a deeply possessive aspect to his personality that despised that everything he'd ever had was owed to someone else. His jeep was not. It was his, in a way his magic was his.

Dating Laura had meant attempting to rein much of this part of himself in. With Clary, she just knew when he was being possessive, told him as much, and proceeded to ignore him. Laura Hale was next in line to be alpha to the Hale pack. She was not one to be owned. And it wasn't that he wanted to - there was just something in him that roared MINE when he saw her, was with her, smiled at her. It was unfortunate. He was pretty sure this was a part of his demon that even his wolf couldn't master, and it meant a fairly solitary life for him.

He hadn't realized where he was driving until he pulled into the suburb. The McCalls lived in this neighborhood. Well, if he was worth watching, no reason to not start now.

A light was on in the upstairs bedroom, moody indie music that Clary liked to listen to blaring out of the open window. Jon rolled his eyes. Yep, Scott was home, and he was sulking about something. Movement caught Jon's eye and he almost dashed out of the jeep to attack - until he scented who it was. Why on earth Stiles was attempting to climb to the second story, would, honestly, probably be an amusing discussion. He must have made a noise, because Scott rounded on him with a bat and the two of them screamed like idiots.

Jonathan had to snicker at the whole affair. He would do something like that to Clary if they didn't both have heightened senses. Maybe he'd just have to be more creative, since they did. His hearing perked up at Stiles' mention of the body.

Stiles fell from his attempt to make it to Scott's window, not gracefully in the least. "Put some clothes on, we're going to find that body."

Scott groaned, "No. After the beating I took today, I'm going to sleep and wallow in self pity." Jonathan vaguely remembered hearing that Clary had mentioned she was watching Scott do particularly badly when she first encountered the New York shadowhunters.

Stiles pushed Scott's shoulder, "No, no, no, no. See? This is exactly what you need. Go out for an adventure, give you a sense of purpose, excitement - solve a mystery! Be a hero! Show those jerks on the team that you're not useless." Jonathan snorted. If Stiles wasn't constantly chattering away like one of those wind-up teeth toys, they probably would get along great.

"You suck at pep talks, you know that, right?"

Stiles shrugged at him, "Yeah, but now you're gonna come, right?"

"Wait," Jon mumbled inside his jeep. The police would be all over the woods tonight. Helen and her crew would be in the woods - this was a bad time for their best lead to go galavanting in the forest searching for half a body. "Come on, Scott. Say no."

"Yeah, yeah. Let me get my jacket."

"Damn it. Looks like I just pulled babysitting duty." He glared at Stiles' beat-up blue jeep as it pulled away, debating making the radiator explode or something, just to keep them here so he wouldn't have to track them through the preserve all night. Instead, he would just have to settle for following them.

They parked away from all the police searches; Stiles must have known where his dad's teams were going to be. Their flashlights were easy enough to follow from the comfort of his jeep. He wasn't going to get out and interfere if he didn't have to.

The two of them didn't make it far before they ran into the police searches. They bolted, and Jonathan rolled his eyes. He might have to get out of his jeep after all. Stiles was caught pretty quickly, waving Scott off. Jon was out of the car and in the forest following within a second.

Scott had managed to make it pretty far before his scent became panicked and sickly. There was something else too - death. The body was here. Jon let out a howl, signaling where he was. Helen's team would hear. They'd come find the other half. All he needed to worry about was Scott.

Scott was using an inhaler; the smell of the albuterol was acrid in the air. Suddenly, a howl answered his, far closer to Scott than he was. It wasn't a wolf he recognized.. or maybe he did. It sounded familiar, but not so much so that he knew who it was.

This is bad. This is very bad. He decided to reach out in his magic to Nerissa. The body is here. I'm following the boy. Bring the shadowhunters to this spot.

He felt her acknowledgement as deer dashed through the forest, pushing him away from Scott. He let his magic flow, filling his eyes with clouds of enough black to see light spilling through. The deer had left behind a cloud of fear, but Scott's was stronger. His scrambling left shadows in Jon's demonic magic, the panic lighting up in bright colors.

Scott slipped and Jonathan was about to go to him and take him back to the jeep when a creature blurred across his vision - nothing but a dark shadow in his magic's sight. It rushed him and knocked him back several yards, his spine connecting with the trunk of a tree.

Jon couldn't help it, his magic withdrew into him and he was left seeing as a shadowhunter. He heard Scott scream and run in the direction of the maintenance roads. It took more effort than Jonathan would have expected, but he picked himself up and sped to the jeep. He would meet Scott on the road. If he'd been bitten, the pack needed to get to him first.

Helen stood in the room, watching Clary - fun, sarcastic, beautiful Clary - standing still as a stone as what she could best describe as a war room exploded around her. Jace looked dumbfounded, staring at his hand as if it were some kind of foreign object. He was quickly surrounded by the pack's high warlock and her assistant. Helen knew that Clary and Jonathan had been the subjects of study their whole lives with the pack, if she wasn't careful, Jace would be too now.

Talia seemed only slightly interested in the development with Jace. Whether that was a good thing or not was anyone's guess. The Hale alpha just wanted Clary to use her gifts to answer the question that had gathered all of them to this war council: Who had done this and how did they stop it?

The small redhead closed her eyes and grabbed her stele. Helen had only seen Clary do this once before and she knew it was an intense experience. The runes on her skin glowed golden as she took her stele and began carving into the table - probably would have been the wall if it had been closer. They weren't runes she had ever seen before, but they radiated angelic power. There was no doubt that Clary's ability drew on her angel blood. The golden symbols glimmered on the table as everyone watched in awe.

Clary stumbled away from the table, observing her work quickly as the runes on her skin faded back to their original black and the ones on the table drifted away in golden dust.

"Leave the body, it's irrelevant. The mundanes can find it, but it will lead to nothing." Clary spoke directly to her alpha, as loyal as any werewolf in the pack. "Follow Scott McCall. He'll lead you to the killer."

Jonathan spoke up. "A sixteen-year-old boy? He's supposed to lead us to whoever did this?" Helen agreed with the sentiment. Too many children were involved in this for her to be comfortable.

Clary glared at her brother. "My visions don't lie. Scott McCall will lead us to the killer. He's in my orbit of friends at school. It won't be hard for me to watch him, see what this is supposed to mean."

"No," Luke was loud in his protest, "You risk too much exposure. It's often you know things you shouldn't, or move to prevent something before it happens. We need someone who will observe, not interfere."

Helen did her best not to smile. Clary? Not interfere? Right. Apparently, Jonathan had the same thought.

"And who did you have in mind?" he asked.

Talia tilted her head in her trademark way, "Cora, of course."

Derek snickered from the other end of the room and Laura elbowed him. Well, that would be a fun family conversation.

There were more important things, though. Helen rolled her shoulders, ready for confrontation. "So while you pursue this lead of the boy, are we really going to leave the body to the mundane police?"

Talia eyed her as everyone else in the room turned to the alpha. She slowly turned her gaze over the Lightwoods, finally resting on Jace. "Clarissa said the body is irrelevant. She didn't say it was not meant for us to pursue, only that, if the mundanes find it, it will lead to nothing. I see no reason for us to discontinue the search for it if we can spare the resources."

Helen breathed a sigh of relief as a voice came from the direction of the room she had been studiously avoiding. A Seelie was shouting, "And of the boy? Valentine's experiment?"

She saw her mother - Nerissa - place a firm hand on the wrist of the fairy who had yelled, a deadly calm stare causing the girl to duck her head. Clary had also moved, trying to block Jace from the view of the majority of the room.

She felt Alec move to stand next to her and she closed her eyes, knowing this was about to get a lot worse.

"We're representatives of the Clave," Alec was using his 'I'm-in-charge-of-the-Institute' voice, no one was going to take that well, "Harming one of us would be a breach of the Accords."

If she had thought the room exploded at Clary's revelation of Jace, the sound at Alec's threat was nuclear. It rose to a deafening sound.. No, that was Clary. Every rune on her was white-hot as she released a scream, forcing everyone in the room to their knees. Everyone except Jonathan, she saw as she rose.

Fury was plain on Clary's face. Helen was a little frightened of her - she'd never experienced her power like that.

"That is enough out of all of you. We're here to work together. So work together." The redhead nodded to Talia, yielding the silence to her alpha, who stepped into the center of the room, where only Clary and Jace still were.

"Helen and her team will take point on the search for the body, since it's their priority. Our pups will keep an eye on the child. The rest of us will divide up between searching for what might have been able to do this damage and helping the shadowhunters." She nodded toward the door, "My pack - get to work. Tessa, Dot, stay."

All the downworlders moved to leave, filing out the door to the assignments given to them. Helen shifted from one foot to the other, not sure what Talia would want to do with them when the room emptied.

"Jonathan," Talia spoke before the Fairchilds could leave the room, "I want you and Clary here as well."

The group gathered to the side of the giant table, with Clary and Jace still somehow in the center of them all. Jocelyn and Luke together, leaning against the far wall next to Talia, with Helen next to them opposite her. The Lightwoods stood next to her, before the circle broke for the door. Jonathan was leaning on the wall right next to the door, barely even in the room. To his side, the two warlocks were leaning against the table, still staring at the mountain ash.

As soon as their group was formed, Talia's furious voice dropped to almost a whisper, "We need to talk about what happened here. Clary, you can't barge into a meeting and drop something like that onto the whole council!"

Her parents tried to soothe their alpha, Luke asked, "Clarissa, why weren't you in the meeting?"

Helen could see Jace smirk - and an almost identical smirk on Jonathan's face. "Isn't it obvious? She was eavesdropping and had to bail when you came in. She got stuck hiding up in the rafters again."

Clary rounded on her brother, but Jace was trying desperately not to laugh. "Yeah, that's about where I found her." There was a collective groan from the pack's adults to her right.

Talia sighed, "Very well. Clary's antics aside, we need to figure out what it means to have a second angel-blooded nephilim here."

Helen paused. Second? She held up a hand, as if she could stop the momentum in the room, "Are you saying Jace is like Clary?"

That seemed to attract the attention of Tessa and Dot. Tessa shook her head. "No, he would be more like Clary was," her eyes got sad, "before the incident."

Jonathan glowered, cocking his head to the side and crossing his arms, "So basically, nothing special." Helen rolled her eyes as Jace, the Lightwoods, and Clary all collectively protested. Jonathan just smirked and winked at his sister.

Jace ran a hand over his face. Her heart ached for him. He was only two or three years younger than her, but he still felt like such a kid to her.

"How could you possibly know any of that just by passing my hand over a little bit of mountain ash?" They all watched as he did it again and, again, it glowed golden.

Jonathan walked over, and for a moment, Helen was concerned. But they were in a room with his parents, his sister - his alpha. He wasn't going to do anything stupid. He attempted to run his own hand over the mountain ash and a flash of light and loud bang reverberated through the room. "The reaction varies by blood, as you can see."

Tessa moved closer to the Fairchild siblings, as if she could protect them. "Jonathan was born with the blood of a greater demon, hence the more severe reaction than, say, a ravenor. Lesser demons are contained, perhaps even pushed from the barrier, but only a greater demon is powerful enough to elicit this reaction."

Alec scoffed, moving toward the table to examine the mountain ash himself. "And I suppose you've experimented to determine this?"

Jonathan grinned, his eyes flashing quickly. "What? We would never do something as dangerous as summoning a greater demon just to satisfy our curiosities!"

Helen couldn't help but remember Clary on the Lacrosse field earlier that afternoon, giving a similar response. Isabelle had the same thought, snickering. "Now I believe the two of you are related," she gestured her perfect, blood red nails between the two siblings.

Talia motioned as if she could wave their conversation away, "All experimentation aside, we can say with reasonable certainty that the mountain ash glows in the presence of pure angel blood. The only way we've ever known of anyone having it is through Valentine's experiments. So," she extended her hand to Jace, "Why don't you tell me how that's possible?"

Helen knew Jace's story. And she knew the Fairchilds' story. Hearing it all together made her just as uncomfortable as it seemed to make Jocelyn. Isabelle was protesting, but the warlocks shared a glance.

Tessa spoke carefully, "Clary may be able to discover the truth, if you'd let her."

Luke gestured wildly, stepping out toward Clary protectively. "Woah, why don't we get some details first, before we go having my daughter do any of that?"

That made sense. Helen nodded, "That's probably a good idea. Jace?" She glanced over at him. He was sort of drawn up into himself, as if he wasn't as comfortable being in this circle of wolves as he pretended to be. She imagined finding out he was something other than he thought he was probably didn't help his comfort level either.

He shrugged and launched into his summary of his life. Helen listened to a few words before her gaze was drawn to Clary standing next to him. There was no emotion in her eyes, as there would be at hearing a story like Jace's. Instead, she looked far away - like she was seeing things beyond the room, beyond any of their memories. She was already in the past, finding the truth of what had really happened.

Clary's eyes flickered to life, moving to make contact with Tessa's. Helen was fairly certain she was the only one who saw it. All the others were listening to Jace finish his story and watching the confirmation of Alec and Isabelle.

A rune glowed on Clary's arm as all the sound filtered out of the room. The forest outside was silent, the creaking of the mansion ceased, even the steady breathing of the others in the room was quiet. There was nothing - it was disorienting. Tessa nodded, apparently capable of communicating with Clary through this dreadful silence. Everyone in the room simply watched as she and Tessa held a silent conversation in the overwhelming quiet.

Helen felt her ears pop as if the atmosphere refilled the room when Clary released the power of her rune. The small girl drew in a shaky breath, glancing back at Tessa, who nodded encouragingly.

Her eyes glowed an icy gold, as they likely had when she'd first pronounced Jace one of Valentine's experiments. "Jace, born Jonathan Christopher, to a beautiful woman with bright blue eyes and golden hair. She'd lost children before, stillborn, so she gladly accepted Valentine's offer to help make her child strong enough to survive." Clary flinched, as if in pain, "After that, there are so many images, so much pain. A husband and father, dead within days of each other, a wife dead by her own hand, a child ripped from the womb, homes burnt to the ground, a father and son murdered - an angel imprisoned."

She gasped, putting her hand to her temple, the glow in her eyes fading. "An angel, our angel." She swayed dangerously. Helen thought she'd never seen Clary look weak like this since the day she met her and she was in a coma.

Jonathan moved faster than her eye could follow, supporting his sister. "Jon, he still has the angel." Something in the room got cold at that. Clary collapsed into her brother, entirely unconscious now. Jace's hands were twitching at his side, as if he wanted to do something to help her.

Alec was the first to speak after Clary's prophecy. "There's your connection, Jace. The same angel's blood runs in both your veins. No wonder you were pulled here."

She watched Jonathan evaluate them both before nodding, "Well I'll let all of you figure out what any of Clary's visions and runes mean. I need to get her to bed."

Helen couldn't help but flinch when Jace's nervous energy finally won out. He reached out to help, only for Jonathan to fix him with a murderous glare. Jace just kicked at the carpeted floor. "Is she okay?"

Lucian held out a hand in comfort, "She'll be fine. She just needs to rest."

They breathed a quiet sigh of relief. All but Talia. Her voice was barely audible, "He still has the angel."

Jonathan paused after lifting Clary and heading toward the door to put her to bed, "You don't think she means..." his voice trailed off.

Jocelyn lifted her chin, "Your father. Yes, I think she does. Valentine must still have the angel imprisoned."

Jonathan turned without another word and left the room.

"He doesn't handle discussion of Valentine well," Luke stared at the door after his son. "It's painful. For all of us, of course, but especially him."

Isabelle hummed, "That's understandable. Everything in him must be in conflict so often, throw memories and emotions about a father like that into it? That would be a dangerous mix for anyone."

"We should tell the Clave about Valentine," Alec was less forceful than before, but still, Helen wished he hadn't said anything.

Jace shook his head, "Tell them what? We mysteriously stumbled upon the knowledge that Valentine is alive? And, oh, by the way, he's had an angel - you know - those divine beings we revere - imprisoned since before the Uprising. Yes, Alec, that would go over swimmingly."

His parabatai just raised a brow at him, "Really? Swimmingly?"

Helen groaned, "You two are worse than Emma and Jules. Honestly, we can't go the Clave, because we can't tell them about the Fairchilds." She nodded to Jocelyn. "If Valentine has an angel, he's had it for twenty-odd years. That's not our urgent revelation. What's urgent is what's right in front of us."

Isabelle nodded, "You mean the body, and who- or whatever killed her."

"I agree. The news about Jace and Valentine is unsettling, giving us plenty of questions, but we still have a problem to solve right now." Talia turned to Luke, "Lucian, do you have access to the morgue?"

Luke nodded, "Yeah, my BHPD credentials get me in, but I haven't been in to see the body yet."

The alpha turned to Isabelle, "Am I correct in my understanding that you are the best forensic scientist in the New York downworld, possibly the whole shadow world?"

She seemed startled. "That's right."

"Excellent. Luke, please take Miss Lightwood here with you to examine the portion of the body your department recovered. Helen, I presume you want to begin your search of the preserve as soon as possible?"

Helen nodded. "I'd like to get a headstart on the mundane police, if possible. I know they're planning to start their search after business hours."

"I'll send Nerissa and Kaelie with you, as well as any others of my pack who volunteer."

She stiffened. She hadn't anticipated her mother being a part of her search team. Working with her wasn't exactly a prospect that she enjoyed. She'd gone the last several years of her relationship with the Hale pack avoiding any interaction with Nerissa. The explanation of her vacancy in Helen's and Mark's lives felt insufficient at best, a poor excuse for abandonment at worst.

She inclined her head to Talia and turned to go, ready for a long night - now in more ways than one.

Chapter Text

Chapter Text

"Does someone want to tell me what the hell that thing was?"

"Not an alpha, that's for sure." Clary was still comforting the new wolf and Jace felt almost like he'd been bitten by something too.

"Its eyes though-" Helen was shaking her head, getting murmurs of agreement from the others who had just portaled with her.

Talia stood tall, dusting herself off, "No, Clary's right. It wasn't an alpha. The scent was all wrong."

Jonathan was leaning heavily against the railing of the stairs, "It was faster than a wolf and it did something to block my magic. I can't heal - couldn't help Scott, either." He groaned, flinching. "Tess, I'm going to need your help."

Clary moved toward him but he shook his head, addressing their alpha, "Talia if Clary tries to use any of her runes, lock her in her studio. She almost drained herself healing Scott."

Jace watched as she grimaced but didn't protest. Talia simply nodded, moving off to discuss what had happened with her pack.

He moved over to where Clary was standing, "Hey, what was that? With the healing thing?"

She sighed, "I told you, if I get stuck in my head, I lose control. Something about that creature messed with me and my head started hurting and I couldn't focus on how much energy I was expending. Jon was right, there's something about that thing that blocks our magic."

"I thought your abilities came from your angel blood?"

She laughed bitterly, "I'm still a banshee. That's the part of me that it affected. That's what lets me hear, what gives me the new runes. Otherwise, all I'd have is the ability to see what the angels put in front of me, probably able to draw stronger runes than most. Maybe some of my other gifts, who knows. But becoming a banshee gave me access to so much more."

He hummed, "People forget that, don't they."

"Yep," she nodded.

They stood on the training room floor as Tessa slowly led her brother upstairs to his room with the other warlock - Dot? - taking Scott to another room after.

"So. What do we do now?" An unfamiliar voice asked.

They both turned. Jace thought he might vaguely recognize the boy, but Clary obviously knew him.

"Stiles? What on earth are you doing here?"

The mundane shoved his hands in his pockets, looking smug. Jace decided he didn't like him.

"You mean 'What is a mundane doing in your super-secret-werewolf-mansion?'" The idiot grinned.

Clary closed her eyes in annoyance and Jace recalled how tired she must be - after all, she never really got to recover from the ordeal in the meeting.

"Sure. What are you doing in my home?"

Stiles opened his mouth, clearly looking for a response. "Fair. Okay, so you and Cora are not very good at keeping things to yourselves and I kind of figured it all out, and Scott and I went out looking for the body-"

Jace interrupted, "You mean you're the one who took Scott out into the Preserve?"

"Yes, keep up. Well, I got caught by my dad," He glanced at Jace, "you know, the Sheriff, and told Scott to take off so he didn't get caught. Then I couldn't just leave him out there alone, you know. So I went back to find him and then I stumbled into those three," he pointed over toward Helen and her mother where they stood with Jocelyn and another seelie around Talia. "They'd found the body, or I guess Jonathan told them where to find it. They weren't real happy to see me, but they interrogated me and I told them about how I've been able to see your and Jon's tattoos for forever and I guess that's not something normal people can do and they decided to bring me along."

He took a breath. "And then we ran into that thing and the warlock created a portal, I think she called it, and that's how I ended up here."

"You can see my runes?" Clary crossed her arms, standing directly in front of the mundane.

"Yeah, you've got the same one as your brother here," he gestured to his own forearm, "and then you guys have all different ones. I like the dragon-looking one you've got here," he moved his arm awkwardly to show the back of it, near his armpit.

Jace laughed, "Yeah, it's for courage in combat."

She raised a brow, "Well I guess that settles whether or not he has the Sight."

He pointed excitedly, "Yeah! That's what the warlock called it! She said it was impressive if I could see through your abilities. I guess you're something special."

"She is." Jocelyn walked over, her arms crossed just like her daughter's. Jace hadn't really processed how alike they looked, but the resemblance was uncanny.

Stiles visibly swallowed, clearly intimidated by the older Fairchild. "Is this where I get the 'Our world is a secret for a reason' talk?"

"No. I'm fairly certain you can figure that out on your own, Stilinsky, given there's been a body ripped in two and a creature that even we can't identify stalking our territory."

"Right," the mundane tsk-ed, not used to being outsmarted. "So, am I going to be allowed back? I mean, Scott is my best friend and I know about all this now - and Tessa or whatever-her-name-is said I have the Sight-"

Talia stepped up behind Jocelyn and Stiles instantly quieted. Jace had to admire how she commanded respect even from an idiot mundane.

"You can be here when Scott is here. My children have mentioned how inseparable the two of you are."

Her eyes flashed alpha-red as if her command was final, and Stiles bowed his head awkwardly. "Thank you, Ms. Hale, ma'am."

She huffed, "Talia is fine. No one has called me Ms. Hale since my husband died."

He nodded awkwardly again. Clary rolled her eyes. She grabbed Jace's hand and he almost jumped from the rush that went through him at the contact. "Come on, let's go check on my brother." She tossed a glance at the mundane, "I'll take you to Scott, too, if you want."

"Yeah, that would be good!"

Jace didn't even care that the mundane was following them. All that mattered was Clary, holding on to his wrist, dragging him up the stairs.

Helen was hovering over her best lead to whatever that creature was that had killed Gretel. Fiery, fun, but sweet Gretel. This Scott kid was supposed to lead her to that thing.

The door opened and Clary peeked in. "How is he?"

Dot looked up from where she sat next to him, smiling. She'd stopped healing a few minutes ago. "He'll be just fine. You did most of the work. He's just got to ease through the transition now."

Clary didn't look relieved. What was it Jon had said? She'd almost used all her energy healing him. Right.

The door swung wide open as the mundane from the forest pushed his way in, "Scott!"

Clary closed the door, probably off to check on her brother, leaving the mundane with them. The patient woke, seeing his friend pulling a chair over - noisily - to his side.

"Hey! Stiles!"

"Man, it's good to know you're awake."

Scott gestured to Dot, "Well they tell me I'll be fine, even if everything feels like it's been turned up to eleven."

Helen frowned in sympathy. "That's part of the transition, I'm afraid. It'll take you a bit to adjust to the heightened senses. Everything is going to feel too bright, too loud - smell too strong."

Stiles stared at her for a second, "That doesn't sound so bad." He punched Scott on the shoulder, "Think of it like having a really bad migraine. Hey! Maybe migraine meds will help!"

"No." Dot just stared at the mundane, clearly unsure what to make of him. "He'll be resistant to any form of mundane medicine now."

"Adderall too? Well, that just sucks."

Scott glared at his friend, "You're the one who's always hyped up on that shit, not me."

"Oh yeah."

Helen watched the two and didn't think she was any more sure what to make of the mundane than the warlock was. He just took it all in stride.

Laura opened the door, allowing herself inside. She watched the two boys curiously. Helen had never really been sure what to make of Laura. She was next in line to be alpha of the pack, but she didn't have a natural authority that her mother did. Although her relationship with Jonathan Fairchild certainly increased her power in the pack, it still didn't make her alpha material.

The wolf came to stand next to her. "What do you make of our newest pup and his friend?"

"I think the mundane is taking it better than the pup."

Laura raised a brow in surprise, turning towards Helen who simply nodded at the two. Stiles was still chatting away while Scott winced in the light. "Ever the observant one, Helen. You really should visit us more often, when you're not on a mission. Pack is family, even if your relationship with your mother is strained, the rest of us care about you too."

Helen's heart leapt to her throat. She'd hadn't really considered it that way. "I'll- um, I'll remember that."

Laura gave her a small smile and she saw that it made her eyes glisten with the gold of a beta wolf. It would be a shame to see them alpha-red - the gold suited her so well. Helen couldn't help but smile back, wondering again what to make of this wolf.

"Scott, I know this is a difficult process, but I'm here to help you through it, okay?" She watched as Laura moved to Scott's side. "My name is Laura, Laura Hale, and I'm a wolf - like you're becoming now. Tell me what you're feeling and I can show you how to work through it, alright?"

The pup nodded. "The sounds are the worst right now."

Helen scoffed, "Probably because your friend here has been talking your ear off."

He shook his head, "Actually, I can't focus on what he's saying. I can hear your sword creaking in its sheath, the chairs scraping on the floor as you shift, the lights buzzing, the hum of some kind of - forcefield? - down the hall. Too many sounds to focus on a voice."

Laura set her hand on the space where Scott's shoulder met his neck and he calmed visibly. She'd seen Talia do the same before for other new wolves. "It's okay, feel that calm? That's the feeling of pack, your family - here, with us, where you're safe. We all react the same way - even those of us who aren't wolves, like Clary or her mom, because there's something powerful about being a part of a pack."

Helen listened intently. Talia never had to give this speech - she was the alpha, her very presence initiated someone into the pack. Laura had said that she was part of the pack - maybe Mark was too, except he'd never been here, never bonded with this family - she had, for the last seven years.

"Okay, now - tune out the sounds and focus on my voice. It's the only sound you want to hear. You don't have to hear anything you don't want to, you're in control, not the other way around. Your senses don't control you. There's nothing more important to a wolf than control."

Scott nodded, "Yeah I can focus on you. Now, Stiles, talk about something - anything."

"Uh," Oh, now he was quiet. "So I figured out they were all werewolves earlier today because Cora and Clary are really bad about being overheard. Like, they've trained Simon not to listen since elementary school - but me? Nah, I listen to everything-"

"Okay, yeah. I can focus on him."

Helen chuckled, "You sure you want to?"

"Hey!"

Laura had cocked her head, similar to the way her mother did, "What were you saying about Cora and Clary?"

Stiles seemed to perk up, "Oh, they had said that you all were looking for a wolf that did it, that nothing else could tear a body in half - no wards were tripped so it couldn't be a demon - all vamps and seelies were accounted for." He paused to remember. "Oh, Jonathan wanted to kill someone named Peter - has since Clary's accident, something to do with a Desert Wolf - and thinks that he did it, and apparently this Peter guy challenged Talia for alpha and isn't doing so hot."

Helen met Laura's surprised stare, "Yeah that's about what he told us when we ran into him in the Preserve. See why we brought him?"

"I believe I need to have a talk with my sister. Her gossip has gotten out of hand in the past, it would appear it has again."

"Not Clary?"

Laura laughed, "You can tell Clary to not say things in front of mundanes, sure. But to tell her not to speak is like telling her to deny her entire nature. She's a banshee, after all - with a direct line to the angels. Her voice is likely the most powerful weapon on the planet."

Helen cringed, she could already feel the questions from the two boys.

"Banshee?"

"We're talking about Clary - Clary Fray, right?"

Dot, who had been content to just watch them all smiled, "Fairchild, actually. Their family name is Fairchild. Just as Lucian's is Greymark, not Garroway. But shadowhunter names would have drawn unwanted attention, so mundane pseudonyms were adopted."

Stiles stared at her, "Because joining a pack of werewolves doesn't draw attention at all."

Helen coughed a bit. If he only knew how odd it was in their world. "It keeps them safe from what they're avoiding. You might think you've got our world figured out, but you haven't even scratched the surface." She rested her hand on her seraph blade, recalling she'd already threatened him with it once tonight. "The Fairchilds' existence is one of the pack's most closely guarded secrets. If you breathe a word of that to anyone, you'll have more than that creature to worry about. You understand?"

He pressed his lips together, "Yeah. Yep! Got it."

Scott's gaze flicked from Laura to herself, "Hidden in plain sight. I guess you're all technically hidden in plain sight."

Laura inclined her head, "In a way. That's what glamours are for. Shadowhunters - like Helen and Jocelyn - can create them with runes. Warlocks provide us wolves with them by potion or spell if we need it. Clary and Jon have them naturally and can enhance them with runes or magic, since they each have a form of both. Vampires have their encanto ability - like a mind control that alters mundane perception of them. And seelies, well, seelies have a magic all their own."

Stiles frowned at Helen, "I thought your mom was a seelie?"

She stiffened. There was no way he could know how sensitive a topic that was, but it still stung. "She is, but angelic blood is dominant. Well," she tossed her hair, thinking of the Fairchilds, "in most cases."

Laura stood from where she'd been crouched by Scott. "Shadowhunters rarely display gifts from the downworlders they share blood with. In fact, it is rare to find shadowhunters who share blood with downworlders at all." She smiled darkly, "Such a thing is commonly punished by their Clave."

"This is a lot of information to take in," Scott let his head fall back on the pillow.

Even Stiles took that as his cue. "You're right, buddy. It's a lot. We should let you rest. What is it? Like four AM? Even I should be asleep."

"You can take the next room over, it's unoccupied." Laura gestured for them all to exit, except for Dot. Helen knew someone had to be there in case a new wolf got out of control - better a warlock who could sedate him than another wolf that would have to restrain him.

She collapsed onto her bunk in the room she used whenever she was in the Hale mansion. Izzy had taken the other bed that she had always assumed was meant for her brother.

Laura's gold eyes glittered in her memory as she drifted off. Pack is family... The rest of us care about you too.

Jonathan was beyond annoyed to wake to his sister asleep half-sitting on his bed and Jace Wayland in a chair with his feet on a desk over in the corner, keeping watch over the both of them.

"Why isn't she in her own bed?"

The shadowhunter just shrugged, "She insisted. Said she wouldn't leave until you woke up." He dropped his feet down, "I figured I'd do the same for my parabatai, so who was I to fight her on it?"

The mention of parabatai swallowed up whatever other criticism Jon had next. She told him? Well, maybe she had to explain the rune he used to call her to him when he was injured. Or maybe whatever bond the two of them had was clouding her judgement.

"She shouldn't have told you about that."

"Yeah I kind of got that impression. She seemed to regret it after she said it, if it makes you feel better."

Jonathan narrowed his eyes, "Not really."

Jace leaned forward, putting his elbows on his knees. "Hey, I get it. I'm sure you've seen her paintings - I couldn't really believe it myself. Then you see me, here, in the flesh. It's too much of a coincidence for you to trust it and feels too much like fate for me to ignore it."

"And that's where we have a problem." Jonathan had to give him credit for not being afraid. Even if he hadn't seen the full extent of his power, most were at least wary of him at this point.

"So it is." Jace shrugged again, "Would it help if I told you every instinct in me is screaming to protect her with absolutely everything I am?"

Jonathan raised a brow at him, allowing a bit of magic to flow into the room - just enough to sense the truth of it, to see if he could sense the bond between them, whatever its source was.

He couldn't find the bond, but the shadowhunter was absolutely telling the truth. If nothing else, he would protect Clary.

"It's a start." He stared down at his sister. She looked small there, sleeping. One could almost forget that she could fight well enough to take down even their alpha, use her voice as both a weapon and a gift. "We should wake her up, so she'll go to her own bed."

"I've been awake you idiots." Both of them watched in shock as she brushed her mess of hair out of her face. "I just wanted to see how long it would take you to settle your differences."

He saw Jace swallow nervously, "Exactly how long have you been awake?"

She stood, yawning and stretching from her uncomfortable position, "Long enough to know my brother will be fine, you two aren't going to kill each other - well, he isn't going to kill you," she gestured from Jonathan to Jace, respectively, "and I can go to sleep."

She leaned down to kiss Jon on the forehead, "No more stupid heroics for a while."

He glared up at her, "For either of us, Clare."

She just smirked, heading to the door, beckoning the shadowhunter, who was still shell-shocked. "Come on, I'll show you where Derek put your parabatai. I'm sure he'd like to hear all about your day."

None of the Hales were in school today. Neither was Stiles or Scott. That was weird. Simon could count on one hand how many days Clary had missed school since they'd been in elementary school and four of them had been after her accident. Allison's dad offered to take them to school, which was totally cool.

He hadn't seen his uncle in literal years and he was super interested in listening to Simon babble on about Clary and the rest of the Hales. Apparently the Argents had history with the family. It was weird, but whatever.

"Accident? What accident?"

"Oh, right. Yeah, I guess Clary was involved in some kind of hit-and-run. The whole family is really sensitive about it, they don't like to talk about it. She was in a coma for a few days. The same driver ran into a family, killing the mom and supposedly the little girl, but they never found her."

Allison stayed quiet while Simon talked fast, always eager to share what he knew about his best friend.

His uncle looked concerned, "When was this?"

"Uh, about seven years ago now? We were in elementary school at the time." He had to count on his fingers to be sure. Yeah, that was right. "Yeah, seven."

His uncle hummed in understanding. "That had to be hard for all of them, her so young."

"Oh yeah, I thought her brother was going to go postal. Jonathan is super protective of Clary, even more than the rest of them - and they're all pretty protective of her."

It had seemed like his uncle had more questions, but they were at the school - which was when Simon found out all his friends were out for the day.

He turned to his cousin, "That's weird, right? Everyone being gone?"

She just giggled, "You've clearly never heard of skipping. They're probably all together."

"Without me?" He wasn't sure whether to refuse to believe her or be more offended than he had ever been in his life. "I - no, Clary would never!"

She patted him on the shoulder. "You're right. Even if she's not interested in you as boyfriend material, you're still her best friend." She frowned and he knew that frown. It meant she knew something.

"What is it?"

"Didn't she say Talia needed her for something yesterday? Right before she headed off to join her friend to talk to that girl."

He scrunched up his face, trying to remember. He'd been paying more attention to McCall getting destroyed on the field, but he did remember Clary saying Talia needed her. "Yeah, I remember something about that. Who did you see her meet?"

"The one who practically jumped on her yesterday morning, I don't think I caught her name."

"Oh, that would be Cora. Cora Hale - cheerleader, popular girl, and youngest Hale heiress. The rest of us don't exist to Cora - only Clary, because she's family. If you saw them talking to someone, it was definitely quote-on-quote," he motioned in air quotes, "'family business', whatever that means when it comes to the Hales."

Allison cocked her head to the side as they slid into their seats in English, "Is that what you meant when you said they're all protective of Clary? It's family business - what happened to her?"

Simon dropped his voice, "Yeah, pretty sure. There used to be an uncle - Talia's brother. But after what happened to Clary, he disappeared. Everyone's pretty sure he's responsible for what happened to both that family and Clary and that Talia took care of it herself."

Her eyes widened, "Oh my god, so they're like - the mob."

Simon laughed, "Sure, something like that. Only they don't need to deal in illegal business. They've got enough money without it."

"Lewis. Argent. Do you have something to share with the class?"

The cousins whipped around to face their teacher, "No ma'am," they answered together.

During roll call, Fray was notably absent - Simon noticed it almost all day. Except when he was in band where she would have been in art. In geometry he made up his mind.

He found his cousin waiting for her dad right where he was supposed to meet her. "Hey, you think your dad would drive us up to the Hales' place?"

"What?"

"Do you think your dad would drive us to Clary's place?" He spoke each word with force, as if he could convince her.

She glanced around, as if there was something that could help her with this conversation, "I mean, probably."

He saw his uncle pull up in the black SUV and practically skipped up to it. "Hey, uncle Chris? So, you know my friend Clary? She wasn't in school today and I was wondering if you could drop me off at her place so I could check on her."

Allison climbed into the passenger seat, giving her dad an apologetic look. But he just glanced back at Simon in the rearview mirror. "Sure, I was hoping to stop by and say hi to Talia at some point anyway."

Simon grinned, "Thanks! You're literally the best!"

"So, how was your second day? Allison? Did you see that boy again?"

"Dad!"

Simon perked up, "Who? Scott? No, he wasn't there today either. None of our friends were today."

His uncle raised a brow, "Scott, huh? I wonder why no one was there."

Allison groaned, "Dad, just leave it alone. I've known everyone except Si for literally one day. Hardly enough time to develop a crush."

"Smart girl."

"I don't know," Simon shrugged, leaning into the back seat, "I'm pretty sure I fell in love with Clary the moment I saw her."

"You're not helping, Simon." His cousin glared at him.

Even his uncle stared at him in the mirror, "Love, huh? Explains a bit. Just be careful, Simon. She may not be a Hale by blood, but Hales are Hales. And you can't trust them."

Allison frowned at her dad, "I thought we were going so you could say hi to Talia?"

He cleared his throat, "I didn't say it would be a friendly hello, Allison."

Simon's chest tightened. Maybe the Hales were more like gangsters than he thought and the Argents were rivals. They were both certainly wealthy enough families. What did he just walk into the middle of?

Allison met his stare, her own just as concerned. They had turned onto the Preserve drive, the dirt road not as bumpy in the luxury SUV. Allison's eyes widened as she took in the size of the Hale mansion. Yeah, it usually had that effect on people.

"Well," Simon sighed, "Shall we?" He hopped out of the car as the doors swung open to reveal Talia with her typical guard of Luke and Laura - her second-in-command and her heir.

She smiled when she saw him. Talia had never been anything but warm to him. He could feel the authority she radiated, but he'd never had any reason to be afraid of her. "Simon, always good to see you. I see you brought company."

He moved to the side, ready to make introductions he was pretty sure weren't necessary. "Uh, yes. My cousin, Allison Argent. And I hear you already know my uncle - Chris Argent."

She fixed him with appraising eyes, as if she approved of the way he'd given her the advantage in the introduction.

"It's always a pleasure, Christopher. I know my son would be so glad to see your sister again, if she's also in town."

His uncle stiffened, "No, I'm afraid she didn't join us. You'll have to let Derek know I send my regrets."

Talia turned to Allison, "I'm glad to meet you. Clary and Cora mentioned meeting you, and you are the very picture of Argent beauty. You're, of course, welcome any time. Angel knows the girls could do with more friends." She tossed a smile at Luke - Clary's dad, who just shook his head.

"Hey! I'm Clary's friend!"

Luke grinned, "And how many others does she have beside you? My daughter tends to get a bit caught up in her art and forget there's a real world out there."

Uncle Chris jumped on that, "Oh so you're the mysterious Clary's dad. Simon won't stop talking about her! You'd think she walked on water."

Even Talia laughed at that, "No, nothing quite so miraculous. She's just our own personal angel, that's all."

Simon watched as his uncle's face grew dark, like he didn't like that answer.

Talia moved aside, "Did you all want to come in? I'm sure you're here because the young ones weren't at school today. I'm afraid we had something of an impromptu sleep-over last night and I didn't have it in me to make them go today."

"And you didn't invite me?"

Luke chuckled, shaking his head, "Technically, we didn't invite anyone. We got visitors from LA, then Stiles and Scott got in trouble for being out on the Preserve last night and crashed here, and then they all were up until five in the morning."

Allison looked up, startled. "Scott's here too?"

Laura grinned - the first reaction she'd given to anything, "Oh yes, him and Stiles have been annoying my brother all day. I've enjoyed it immensely."

Simon almost froze. Derek Hale was nearly as scary as Jonathan Fray. Annoying Derek was like playing Russian roulette. "And he hasn't hurt, killed, or otherwise maimed them yet? The Derek Hale?"

Laura laughed, "The Derek Hale?" she said it mockingly. "You're joking, right? He's just quiet, not mean. It's my Jonathan you all have to watch out for."

"So I've heard," Allison muttered.

Her dad nudged her, "Who's Jonathan again?"

"Clary's big brother. Laura's boyfriend. General badass and terrifying thing of nightmares." Simon whispered.

Clary was leaning against a giant rack of weapons in the center of the weird Hale gym, smiling knowingly.

"You know, Jon really isn't that bad."

Simon didn't care that she had heard him whispering - again. He rushed to pull her into a hug. She winced. Clary never winced - she was never hurt. Something was wrong.

He pulled away, holding her by the shoulders. "What's wrong? What happened?"

She smirked that trademark Clary smirk, "Nothing, Simon. Just a little too much working out. I'm sore, that's all." She turned to his uncle and Allison, grinning. "Allison! It's good to see you! And-?"

His uncle moved forward to shake her hand, but she paused, turning his hand over curiously, revealing a tattoo on his palm.

She hummed. "Clever. You're a hunter, and this is meant to take down our glamours." She poked it experimentally.

Everyone in the room froze. Simon wasn't sure what was happening. Clary shook his hand, finally, smirking at him. "Well? Do you see more now?"

His uncle narrowed his eyes at her, "No, I don't."

She leaned in conspiratorily, "Because what I am is far greater than anything you've ever hunted." He watched as his best friend released his uncle's hand, gesturing. "You'll notice a difference now."

Simon leaned over to see, and Clary was right - the tattoo was gone, a yellowish bruise in its place.

Uncle Chris set his jaw, clearly on edge. "What are you?"

Clary went back to leaning on the rack of weapons behind her. She tilted her head, considering the man in front of her. "Argent is French, yes? Well, Je suis un ange envoyé pour faire leur travail."

Talia stood near the stairway, behind them all, "Clarissa. That's enough."

Clary instantly inclined her head toward the leader of their family. Laura and Luke moved to stand on either side of his best friend, as if defending her from his uncle, which strangely seemed necessary - even to Simon.

"Allison, let's go."

"But, I haven't even seen Scott yet - made sure he's okay." Allison glanced between her father and Simon.

Luke spoke up, "If you'd like, we can have someone bring her home when we drop off all the other kids tonight. Scott and Simon included."

"Very well." His uncle turned on his heels and stormed out.

"Well that seemed fun." A boy appeared suspiciously close to Clary. Had he been there before? No, definitely not. He would have noticed if someone that good-looking was standing that near his best friend and she was letting him.

Clary just rolled her eyes at the boy, "Just be glad I didn't let him take down any glamours. Or you-" she poked him in the chest and Simon wondered again who this was and why she was standing that close? "-would have been busted."

Luke intervened (thank whatever gods were out there), "Okay, you two. Yes, we're all glad Clary ran interference with the hunter. But Allison and Simon are here to see why all their friends skipped school today, so why don't we introduce them to our guests," he shot a glare to a corner of the room that, as far as Simon could tell, was empty, "and relieve Derek of Stiles and Scott."

The banging on the downstairs entrance to his brownstone was incessant. Honestly, if this wasn't an absolute emergency, Magnus was going to turn whoever it was into a rat.

He wrapped himself in a robe and made his way downstairs, pausing halfway down as he sensed a magic that he hadn't felt in almost twenty years. That's not possible.

"Please, they're coming for me! You have to hide me!"

Magnus opened his door, magic ready. "How do I know it's not a trap?"

The lovely girl with intricately done braids was clutching her neck. The bleeding had long since stopped - likely part of her transition. Her skin was probably a lovely dark color normally, too, when she wasn't pale with fright and blood loss.

"I don't have it in me right now to be a trap. But they're after me. Whatever it was that bit me - it wasn't right, even by wolf standards. It looked like an alpha, but I know the New York alpha and it wasn't him."

The warlock eyed her, "You're not mundane."

"No, shit! I'm a wolf! I've been a wolf! My name is Maia and I work at the Hunter's Moon - a werewolf bar. So why the hell the Circle decided to sick their new pet on me? I don't know."

"Why do you think it was the Circle? They've been dead and gone for years."

She scoffed. "You really need to get out more. They've been spotted in clubs and bars all around the city. We all know it. Some High Warlock you are if you don't even know what's going on."

He just narrowed his eyes at her. It was true, he hadn't been out in a while. He was still sulking over Camille. Well, this was as good a reason as any for a coming out.

He picked her up and moved to take her upstairs when he heard the growl. Portal it was. He opened it into his living room, pushing her through and closing it.

If this really was some Circle experiment, he wanted it. They weren't doing this again. Not in his lifetime - however many millennia it turned out to be.

Chapter Text

Scott was beyond grateful that Talia had contacted his mom about him spending the weekend with the Hales. What he wasn't quite ready for was Allison.

"Scott, you're not hearing me - again." Derek practically growled at him.

He held up his hands in defense, "No, no. I can hear you. Focusing perfectly on a solo sound, I'm just distracted in general." He grimaced. That didn't really help his cause with the older wolf.

The door slammed open, forcing Scott to flinch at how loud it rang in his newly heightened senses. Stiles flew into the room, all but skidding into Derek, who raised an irritated brow at him.

"Sorry to interrupt your super cool werewolf training, but Allison and Simon are here and Clary had some kind of showdown with Allison's dad."

Scott watched as Derek's face smoothed into a dangerously blank mask. He'd only known him - beyond knowing his name - for a day and he already knew that was a frightening thing.

"Allison wouldn't happen to be Allison Argent, would she?"

Scott was the one who responded. Stiles seemed terrified. "Yeah, that's the one."

Derek didn't say anything else, just stormed out of the room. The two boys gave each other confused looks before following as quickly as they could - which turned out to be very quick in Scott's case. He slowed up as he hit the stairs, realizing Stiles was struggling to catch up to him.

Allison's voice floated up to him from the training room, "Derek? I heard you know my aunt Kate. But I get the impression that might not be a good thing."

"Let's just say the Hales and Argents have a complicated history."

Allison laughed and Scott swore he would not swoon at the sound. "Yeah, I got that."

"You sure don't seem to mind." That was Clary's voice. Hadn't Stiles said there had been some kind of incident with Clary and Allison's dad?

Finally, Scott made it down to the training room floor - at Stiles' pace, which felt like slow-motion right now. Everyone in the open space turned to look at the two of them and Scott was suddenly very grateful for the borrowed clothes and other generosity of the Hales. Otherwise, he'd still look like some kind of zombie fresh out of the woods.

"Scott!" Allison smiled brightly at him.

It was all he could do to meet her gaze. Great, now his brain decided to be shy and dopey. "Hey, I heard you came to check on us."

She tossed her head a bit - almost in the same way Clary always did when deflecting something, "Well, it was Si's idea but yeah." Her smile softened, "Glad to see you're in one piece."

He snorted a little bit, "Thanks to the Hales, yeah."

She frowned, "What-"

"Allison! Simon!" Cora's loud voice made him flinch as she shouted from the balcony above them all. "You've joined the party!" He turned as he heard her feet touch the ground - she'd leaped over the rail and landed flawlessly on the training room floor.

A chorus of voices shouted at her as the two newcomers stared openmouthed.

"Cora!"

The youngest Hale arched a single brow in her sister's direction specifically. "What? I thought all the mundies knew? Besides, we can just get Raph here if we need to, right?"

Laura gave her sister a dark glare and Scott was reminded of their mother. "We'll discuss this later." She turned to Scott and Stiles, "In the meantime, why don't we introduce everyone?"

A blonde woman, probably around Jonathan's age, stepped forward. "I met Stiles last night on the Preserve. I'm Helen Blackthorn, from LA." She nodded toward a blonde boy who was standing very close to Clary, "That's Jace, and his adopted siblings Alec and Isabelle." She turned to a pair of dark-haired, hazel-eyed teens - or, not teens. The boy, Alec, was at least Laura's age. It was the girl who had to be closer to their age. And she was gorgeous.

Scott nodded to them all. Stiles grinned, "Nice to officially meet you guys." He gave a little wave. Scott rolled his eyes.

Allison gave them both a little smirk, "I agree. Nice to meet you guys. Now, I've heard about," she hesitated, her hand moving back and forth until she settled pointing straight at Jonathan, "Jonathan. Apparently, you're very scary."

Jonathan snorted a bit at that. "Only when someone messes with our family." He shrugged like it was nothing.

Scott watched as Simon leaned close to his cousin, whispering, "See? Very mob-esque."

All the wolves and shadowhunters in the room snickered at that, which seemed to unnerve Simon - it wasn't loud enough for normal people to have heard. Stiles looked around in confusion.

"You all really have no control do you?" Laura glared around at the room.

Stiles raised his hand slightly, "For the record, I don't know what was funny."

Allison opened her mouth to answer when a familiar sound had Scott moving faster than he knew was possible. He grabbed her and Simon out of the center of the training floor, depositing them with Derek before moving to defend - all on instinct. He tried not to think too hard on that. It was all new.

Clary and Jonathan already had their weapons drawn, their eyes shining gold and black respectively. The other shadowhunters and wolves were falling into position behind the two of them. They obviously all fought like a well-oiled machine.

Dot and Tessa rushed down the stairs, both with their hands glowing in full view of everyone in the room. Clearly, no one was worried about keeping secrets right now.

"Stand down! Clary! Jon! Let the portal through!"

Scott realized a cloud in the room lifted - like something had dulled all of their senses and abilities. He didn't know the Frays - no, Fairchilds - could do that. Something about 'wards' echoed vaguely in his mind.

A portal opened - so that had been the sound he'd recognized - bright swirling blue sparks firing until a large cage flew through - Clary and Jon halting it and jumping back almost in the same instant. The vortex closed right behind a well-dressed warlock, carrying a woman who smelled like she was a wolf, and who stepped through as if nothing out of the ordinary was happening.

He grinned, catlike, turning toward the two women on the stairs, "Dorthea! Tessa! It's been ages!"

Laura stormed past the whole scene, heading toward the stairs, "There's mundanes here, Magnus! For fuck's sake!"

The warlock, Magnus, turned toward the stairs where Laura had disappeared. He sighed, "Ah, always good to see the Hales."

It wasn't often that he was called up to the pack's home, so Alan Deaton assumed something was going horribly wrong. Talia herself had called and told him to bring everything he could think of to sedate and contain a wolf.

That didn't bode well. He had to wonder if it had something to do with Peter.

He took all his supplies and closed down the clinic, heading to the mansion. Of all the things he expected to see, a room full of teenagers was not on the list.

"Scott?"

The boy waved a little awkwardly, "Hey doc."

Talia came down the stairs into the open area everyone seemed to be gathered in. "I see you know our newest pup."

So, the poor kid was newly turned. That was unfortunate, but at least he had a good pack to help him through it.

He inclined his head to Talia. "I'm fairly certain a good portion of this group isn't a part of our world. Can I ask why they're here? Is Raphael on his way?"

The alpha sighed, looking strangely vulnerable for a moment, "Let's just say it's been an eventful twenty-four hours. I haven't made a decision about any encanto yet."

He raised his brows at that. For the pack to reveal itself to mundane teenagers, and to consider leaving those memories intact, something eventful must have happened indeed. She gestured to someone he didn't know, a flamboyantly well-dressed man, Asian, staring at his nails as if none of what was happening was the least bit interesting.

"Alan, this is Magnus Bane, High Warlock of Brooklyn. He's the one who brought us the-" she stopped, clearly not sure how to describe whatever it was he brought them, "-specimen you'll be helping us with."

Talia flashed her alpha red eyes at the warlock, who finally turned to them, his own flickering between a normal brown and golden cat's eyes - almost challenging. He must be a very powerful warlock to be willing to go toe-to-toe with Talia Hale.

"To be fair, it was dropped on my doorstep and I was told you were already dealing with something of the same. It was the logical thing to do."

There was a cough from the group of teens behind them, clearly covering a laugh. Talia tossed a glance their way and they were all quiet.

Clary and Jonathan stepped forward. Clary ready to explain as she always was. "Everyone was here to see the portal, so there's no helping their initiation into the downworld. The creature came through first. Jon and I reacted to it on instinct but the aura it radiates isn't natural. Both of us had to get away."

Alan was certainly curious now. "So, these kids saw this warlock portal a mysterious creature here and I'm here to help you contain it?"

"What about the girl?" A girl with dark hair asked boldly. He didn't recognize her so he had to assume she was one of the mundanes who was now caught up in this mess.

He turned to Talia and the warlock, "Girl?"

Magnus waved his hand dismissively, "Yes, yes. I brought a wounded wolf with me. She seems to have gotten herself bitten a second time."

"Whoa," an excited voice came from the group behind them - Stiles, of course it was Stiles. "That can happen? Because that opens a whole world of questions."

"No," Magnus gave them all a dramatic eye-roll, "It doesn't happen. Or I would have tended to it myself without bothering to portal clear across the country."

"If you're done with the Q&A, we have some pressing matters," Jonathan put on his trademark glare that always put the fear of the angels into everyone, effectively silencing the group of curious teens.

Talia nodded to him and turned to head up the stairs with Alan and Magnus in tow. Jonathan followed, but none of the others moved from where they were. Clary must have been planning to manage the fallout of the mundanes. It was a task suited to her.

It was clear in both wolves' body language that they were unnerved by whatever it was that was awaiting him. He wasn't looking forward to it.

"So you're a druid, then?"

He turned to this new warlock, "I am, yes. My family has served the Hales for generations."

A clever smirk quirked up on the man's face, "Served, huh? I must admit, I wouldn't say I've met many who would willingly put themselves in the service of a pack."

Deaton snorted, "You don't know Talia, then." Bane only hummed in response.

Jonathan pushed the door open and Alan was forced to agree with the Fairchilds - it radiated some kind of dark aura. Whatever it was, it was no natural wolf. A druid was connected to the natural - the lifeblood of the planet - in a way that even seelies were not. This thing did not belong.

He glanced over at their alpha, "What do you need me to do?"

She tilted her head, staring down at the restless creature contained in front of them. It didn't seem big enough to be a lycan - barely big enough to be a natural wolf. "First we need to know if the ash will stop it from escaping. We'll move from there."

Quickly spreading supplies out on the table, he put a slight barrier across the entry of the cage, nodding for Jon to open it. The thing snarled - maroon eyes wild as it lunged directly for Talia - and hit a wall at the spread-out ash.

Their question about the mountain ash was answered then. Talia sighed. "Did you bring anything else?"

"Several strains of aconite, a concentrate of santalales-"

Magnus interrupted him, "You can say wolfsbane and mistletoe. No one here is going to judge you."

He glared at the warlock, "You know, I happen to be a veterinarian. I work with mundanes most of the time. I don't make a habit of conversing in downworld terms. Sorry if that offends you."

A small laugh came from the corner. Alan had almost forgotten Jonathan was with them. "Jon, any way you can control it while we dose it?"

The boy shook his head, "These things block my abilities," he glowered. "When I was attacked by the one on the Preserve, I couldn't heal Scott or myself. The best I could do was shift and hope I could fight it off."

Talia narrowed her eyes, "Bane, how were you able to contain it? Even if it is half the size of the other - We know Jon's gifts come from a greater demon, making him just as strong as any warlock. How did you maintain your magic?"

"I didn't," he shrugged his glittering shoulder. "I just had the benefit of being warned. Maia was being chased, she ended up on my front door, and I took the opportunity to land whatever was hunting a wolf in a cage." He admired his nails again, clearly expressing his indifference. "The cage was prepped before the thing landed in it. I wanted to portal it right away but, unfortunately, I couldn't. You're right - it sucks away our gifts. I think that's why it bit the girl."

Jon's head shot up, "That's why the one here killed Gretel - to absorb her power."

Deaton closed his eyes, groaning. "Imagine the jolt of power it got from you, Jonathan."

There were no sounds other than the snarling and gnashing of the thing in the cage between the three of them.

"We need to know what they are and where they're coming from. Alan, I need you to tranq it with everything you've got."

He nodded, loading several rounds with each of his sedatives - very aware of how dangerous they were to the others in the room; well, at least to the two he cared about. So far Magnus Bane hadn't made a great impression. He handed the weapon to Jonathan. The best shot, the pack's enforcer - made the most sense.

The thing didn't even whimper as the darts hit it. Its growls just quieted slowly to silence. Jon lifted the weapon again as Deaton slowly approached - he didn't have power for the thing to siphon anyway. The worst it could do was wound him. He poked it.

No snarling, no sudden moves. It seemed to be sufficiently sedated. He grabbed onto what looked like forelegs and tugged - hard. The thing slid out of the cage into the room. Magnus poured a perfect circle of the mountain ash, dotting it with the mistletoe. It would likely allow both him and Jon to keep their magic in the room with the thing. Smart.

Talia tilted her head, "It's still alive, right?"

He laughed, "Oh yeah. Its breath reeks."

Magnus waved his hands dramatically, blue sparks scattering, "Would you like me to draw out the toxins? With the mistletoe providing a druid barrier, the boy and I should maintain our magic."

Their alpha's eyes flashed red as she bent down to stare at what was - at best - a midsized, mange-ridden, rabid wolf, "No. Let's see how powerful it is in fighting off our oldest enemies."

"So which part of this exactly pissed Laura off?"

Simon's question seemed almost silly. In fact, it was silly. Clary laughed having to cover her mouth at the ridiculousness of everything that had happened. She wasn't nearly recovered enough to deal with any of this.

"Whoa, Clary- you good?" Jace's hands were on her waist holding her steady as she swayed a bit, catching her breath.

She grabbed her stele, taking down her glamour. Anything drawing her energy right now was probably a bad idea. "Yeah, yeah. I'm good. Just still haven't had a chance to recover fully."

"You're running on fumes, Clare. You really should be resting before something happens," Cora was looking at her with concern and a bit of fear. She had been here last time.

Stiles squeaked a little in curiosity but Allison raised a hand with some uncertainty, "I'm sure someone has a really great explanation for all the super crazy things we've seen but I'm lowkey freaking out and I think Simon's in shock."

That, more than anything else, steadied Clary. "Right. Well," she spread her arms wide, "Welcome to the downworld, or shadow-world, depending on who you're talking to, I suppose. Our famous mantra is 'All the legends are true.' You've got your lycanthropes, or werewolves, like the Hales. Talia is our pack's alpha, Laura is next in line as the oldest, then you have Derek and Cora.

"You guys already met Cora at school, she's only a year ahead of me and Si. Derek is nine years older, and Laura is four years older than him. My brother, Jonathan, graduated last year and he's our pack enforcer - it's why everyone thinks he's so scary. Him and Laura are dating," she made a face, "Which is super weird."

Simon held up his hands, taking several deep breaths, "So, are you trying to tell me you're all werewolves?"

Stiles hopped a bit with his hands in his pockets, "Obviously, not all of them, Simon."

Jace snorted from behind her, "No way." He pulled out his own stele and de-glamoured his own runes. Clary watched as the other shadowhunters did the same. "My siblings, Helen, the Fairchilds, and myself are all what you call shadowhunters. We get our abilities from these runes and the fact that we're part angel."

"Is that how you did that thing with my dad, Clary?" Allison stepped closer to her to examine her runes. "Does he know about all this?"

She sighed, "He does. I'm sorry, Allison. But unfortunately not. If I had been a normal shadowhunter, your dad's trap would have worked and taken down my glamour. But my brother and I are a bit more complicated than the rest of the pack. It's why everyone is so protective of us."

"Um, I think protective is a bit of an understatement," Stiles had to add.

"So what about the glowy thingy that appeared out of nowhere? Was that your rune magic too?" Simon waved his hands in an imitation of the warlocks they'd seen.

Helen laughed from her corner of the sitting area they'd managed to corral everyone into, "Our runes aren't magic. But the portal definitely was. Magnus is a warlock. Dot and Tessa are too - you know, the ones with the glowy hands?" She mimicked his movements. "Eventually, you'll probably meet my mother or Kaelie - they're seelies, or what you would probably call faeries," she moved her blonde hair to show her ears, "- and maybe even Raphael, who runs the vampire clan here in the county."

Clary almost felt sorry for Simon and Allison. It was a lot to take in. But Allison was from a family of hunters. It was better for her to be on the pack's side than become one of them. And Simon? Well, really - he should have picked it up by now.

The older Lightwood sneered, "And they all answer to your alpha?"

Clary stood proud as Derek and Cora's eyes flashed blue and gold respectively. "Of course they do. I understand you're from New York, so you don't really know how things work around here. But in our county, things go through the pack first before they make it to the Institute." She cocked her head at Helen, "Besides, LA is so far away. We wouldn't want the Blackthorns to waste a drive."

Helen dramatically held her hand to her heart, "Aw, Clary! You care!"

Alec just glared, "Why do you let them run things like this? It's the Institute's job-"

"It's the Institute's job to protect the area we've been tasked with from demon incursion and to uphold the Accords." Helen cut him off. "I don't see how letting the Hales maintain peace in their own territory fails in either of those tasks. In fact, it happens to make our job a bit easier. This is one less area we have to worry about."

She gestured toward Clary, "They have one of the greatest shadowhunters in history as part of their pack. Two of the most powerful downworlders in the known world, one of whom has a direct connection to the angels, and an alpha that commands the respect of even nephilim. If anything, our Institutes could learn from this pack."

Derek and Cora exchanged a surprised glance. Clearly, they weren't aware of how the LA Institute felt about their pack. Clary did, though. She knew Helen and Andrew loved them and that the whole rest of their family was working to keep them safe.

Unfortunately, it was right then that Scott chose to collapse. The Hales were there faster than the rest of them, ready to secure him if it was a sudden shift - but he seemed to be more in pain than anything else.

Clary grabbed her stele, ready to intervene when a strong hand took it from her. She wheeled around, intending to fight, only to see Jace's face set sternly. Right, she wasn't well enough to do anything.

"We need to get Dot or Tessa. If I can't help, they can."

He nodded, rushing up the stairs.

Allison and Stiles were already kneeling by the pup, obviously concerned. "Scott? Buddy, what's going on? You gotta talk to us."

Clary watched on, concerned. Scott flailed, clutching at his side. "The bite - it hurts!"

Derek ripped the side of the pup's shirt to reveal the wound. It was open again - and glowing. She knew that color. It was the color she had seen in the dream that told her Jon was in trouble - the color she used to paint Circle runes on the villains in her visions.

Guilt filled her. This was a familiar evil, the one that haunted her and Jonathan every full moon, the one that followed them in whispers of their true family name. This was her responsibility - one she didn't need her stele to fix.

Everything was gold, her runes shimmered as she kneeled between Stiles and Allison. Nothing had any sound - her power had sucked it all out of the room. She felt a pull at her shoulder, but a pulse of energy radiated out of her, shoving Jace back. He couldn't stop her from fixing this. There was no color now, the golden dust from her power had coated the whole room - covering all her friends in angelic protection.

Good. Better this than setting it all on fire. She rested her hand on Scott's wound and pulled.

Then there was color. The red and black and gold exploded and it was a mess of energy, leaving everyone flinching on the ground. Clary had to let it flow freely into the room as she drew it out - a massive amount of the red and black magicks. Now that was something she was intimately familiar with.

How did Jon's magic get fused with you? It didn't matter - the rune on her forearm gave her immunity to his magic as much as his did to her own. She stood, taking her hands off of the now-unconscious Scott. At least he was out of danger. She wasn't sure she could say the same for herself.

Whatever had been in him was angry. The coating of her power over the room was protecting everyone else, but she was rapidly feeling drained again. She wished desperately for her stele - hadn't Jace taken it from her? Oh well, banshee powers it was.

A hand joined with hers, sending warmth to her twinning rune on her arm. Her scream had been silent, she knew she'd already deafened the room - but maybe he'd heard her.

Jon. Her brother reached out for his own energy that was unleashed on them all, easily pulling it back into himself as his eyes darkened and she could see him begin to shift - but not into a wolf. He was dangerous when his demonic magic was out of control, just as dangerous as she was.

His runes started to bleed together, the black patterns twisting into something demented on his skin. Before she could react, another body was there, color in the golden bubble her angelic abilities had created.

Blue sparks flared into life, fighting the maroon power sparking over her for dominance. Wait, when had the red magic settled on her?

Magnus tugged and Jonathan soaked up the force of whatever it was. Right, he could drain life-forces. Why did she forget that?

A blast of golden energy accompanied the release of the parasitic power. Magnus seemed to have it contained somehow in a sphere of his own power. She watched as all her protection drifted away from the room, settling on her brother to rid him of the excess demonic magic.

Good. That's good.

Someone was calling her name when she fell into the dark.

Helen was stunned. She had seen Clary use her power before, but this was on a whole different level. And Jonathan? He had become something that she would likely see in her nightmares for weeks to come.

When Clary collapsed, the sound rushed back into the room in a deafening roar. Jace was shouting her name, Jonathan was gasping for air, and Talia was barking out orders to all of her pack that had materialized in the chaos.

The hunter's daughter was still on the ground where Clary's power had thrown her, frozen - likely in shock, "What- What was that?" She swung her head back and forth, clearly looking for someone who would give her some answers. "What just happened?"

"Clarrisa just saved your new pup." Magnus was eyeing the strange magic he was containing in an orb, slowly transferring it into some kind of jar with a rune she didn't recognize etched onto it.

Allison was still there, panicking, clearly. "Okay, but she just- and then we couldn't hear anything? And then there was the gold everywhere," she gestured with her hands, tears filling her eyes as her voice rose. "It was like whatever that stuff was she pulled out of Scott wouldn't even come near us."

Cora, of all people, knelt down by the girl, taking her hands and wiping her cheeks. "It couldn't."

"What?" Several of the boys echoed the same question.

Cora gently brushed Allison's hair away from her face and nodded. "Clary protected all of us. Those of us who have seen her use her power before know that the words from the angels always drift away in golden dust. That's what she covered us in - pure angelic power. And it's what she used to stabilize her brother once the rest of us were safe."

Allison sniffled, wiping her nose on one of her sleeves, "So you're telling me there're angels in this craziness too?"

Simon popped up from behind one of the couches they all were ignoring, his broken glasses held aloft. "I, for one, would like to know why?"

Helen frowned, "Why? Why what?"

"Why Scott? Why Clary? Why is this happening to us right now as we're just beginning high school, for god's sake?"

Alec sniffed condescendingly in the corner, "You think these things don't happen all the time, mundane? You're just privy to them right now."

Jace was still kneeling by Clary as the warlocks tended to her, "Come on, Alec. None of this is normal, even for us. A creature that can do this to a new wolf?" he gestured to Scott. "Or a banshee like her? We've never seen anything like what we've seen in the last three days."

Helen nodded, "He's right. She did everything we just saw without her stele. No runes."

The back door to the training room slammed open. A familiar face strolled in.

Derek stepped up, shaking Raphael's hand. "So I guess I'm here to give some mundanes a ride home?"

Jonathan strolled over, hands in his pockets, "Just one, actually. The other two are," he grimaced, "unavoidable."

The vampire glared, "You've got three warlocks standing here and you called me for one teenage mundane?"

Jon rolled his shoulders, "To be fair, he's Clare's best friend. Might as well give him the best treatment." Raphael seemed to get the message: this wasn't negotiable, and it wasn't a request. "Everyone who was here tonight is going to reek of angelic power. They're going to be targets for a few days. We can keep these ones safe - they're pack now."

"But this one is going to require a more subtle approach."

"Exactly." Jonathan grinned frighteningly and Helen was reminded of the cats in the seelie court, "And subtlety is your clan's specialty."

Raphael sighed, "I'm going to regret this, aren't I?"

Derek grinned at them both, turning, "Hey Simon! Your ride's here!"

Simon scrambled out from behind the couch, still fidgeting with his broken glasses. "Yeah? I thought Luke was taking us all home togeth-" he paused when he saw the vampire, "-er. This is bad, right? I mean, like, in monster movies, this is where the first victim gets picked off. And it's me, yeah?"

Jon gave Raph a look, "Oh yeah, you're going to have a great time."

Helen just shook her head. It looked like she wasn't going back to the Institute any time soon.

Chapter Text

Cora had been there when Clary dipped into Derek's past. She'd seen the sun explode into the training room, ripping the roof off and nearly killing half the pack. But this? This had been on a whole different level.

Clary had covered the whole room in angelic power, fought with foreign magic with nothing but her voice, and then used all that angelic protection to force her brother back into himself.

And no one was hurt.

Except for Clary, it seemed.

Cora crawled over to Allison, who was still laying on the floor crying in her shock. She'd watched Scott collapse - and they'd all be fools not to see how she felt about the new pup - and then everything they'd all just witnessed from Clary.

Clary. Cora's best friend - although she'd never admit that to anyone. That shadowhunter was holding her where she'd collapsed, watching her more tenderly than any of the boys the Hale heiress had ever slept with. Hmm. Maybe she should find herself a nephilim.

Dot and Tessa were trying to heal her, forcing energy into her already-depleted body. She still hadn't recovered yet. Not from digging around in that Wayland boy's past, from what she'd heard about the meeting, and not from saving Scott the first time 'round.

"You're not going to do her any good," that new warlock raised his brows condescendingly at Dot and Tessa. "It's her angelic energy that's emptied. You can't give her that."

The boy's head snapped up, "I can. Can you take it from me?"

"Jace, no."

Cora turned to growl at the older Lightwood boy, "If it will help Clary, why not?" She stood from where she'd been kneeling to comfort Allison. "She just saved all of us. You don't think you nephilim owe her a little help?"

The warlock cocked his head, "She's right, pretty boy. I doubt there's much danger to your precious parabatai."

The sister snickered from where she'd lounged on one of their couches. Cora decided she liked her. "You know they have a point, brother. Besides, this pack has saved our lives, what, three times in the last twenty-four hours. We can at least try."

Jace nodded to Tessa, who instantly grabbed his stele and marked him with a rune. The nephilim in the room were shocked, but they knew so little about the Hales. Tessa was so much more than just a warlock. She pressed her hand to the new rune on the boy and a spot on Clary, both glowing under her magic. A stream of golden energy began to steadily flow between the two points.

Not long after, Clary's eyes fluttered open and Tessa cut off the flow of power between the two of them.

Cora rushed to Clary's side, barely restraining herself from dragging the tiny girl into a hug. "You scared us all! Please don't ever do that again!"

"Oh," green eyes lowered in shame, "I'm sorry. I was just trying to keep everyone safe."

"Not that!" She nudged her elbow as Clary moved to sit up, "The whole almost killing yourself trying to save everyone. So not okay, Clare."

Now that Clary was sitting a bit, Cora felt it was a bit safer to wrap her in a hug, ignoring Tessa's call for caution or whatever-his-name-was' protest.

Clary had been her best friend her entire life. They could get over it.

Jon watched them all after he sent Simon off with Raphael. He should've been over with his sister, but the war between her angelic power and his demonic magic was still pulsing in his veins.

Derek stood next to him, silent as ever. He knew there was a reason Derek wasn't like the Hale girls - why his eyes were blue instead of a beta gold - but there were times he questioned whether the brother would make a better alpha after Talia than his Laura.

"You almost lost control."

Jon wished he could have been offended, but it was true. "Yeah. It was a lot of my own power, hitting me at once."

Icy blue eyes flashed at him, "I can still smell it on you. You're still struggling."

He just shrugged, "Why do you think I'm over here instead of over there with Clary? No one needs a loose cannon right now."

The older Lightwood - Alec, Jon remembered - moved to join them. "You just watch these things happen?"

Derek growled lowly, "What things?"

"A banshee all but going off the rails, two tribrids training to unrestrained power, some kind of new creature appearing right in your territory? Take your pick."

Jon could feel his power threatening to surface again as his anger rose, "I'd mind my tongue if I were you, shadowhunter."

"He's right. You've really no room to talk, pretty boy." Magnus sauntered over to them, the swirling maroon energy fighting angrily against the container he had it in. "Your Clave lets little things like this slip by all the time. An angel imprisoned by one of its most dangerous fanatics, a whole movement ready to wipe out the entire downworld, hatred permeating your whole race - how did you put it? Take your pick."

A dark blush spread across the nephilim's whole face. Ah. A sexually repressed shadowhunter was an angry shadowhunter. No wonder he was such an ass.

Derek seemed to pick up on the same thing, "Well, Magnus knows more than anyone about the hurts of the Uprising - except Joc and Luke, that is. Maybe you'll learn something, Lightwood." He turned away from the two of them, "Come on, Jon. We have pups to check on."

Jace was done watching her hurt herself. Clary had done more to save the people in this mansion in the day he'd known her than he had done his entire life. And she did it without her stele. As a shadowhunter, that was almost unbelievable.

They studied banshees, sure. Supposedly more powerful than any warlock or other downworlder, they were basically mediums with unrivaled abilities with their voices.

But Clary...

She was something far more. She had to be. There was no way this was what a normal banshee was like. Otherwise, he hoped no Institute ever came across a rogue one. It would likely mean certain death for their shadowhunters.

One of the warlocks - Tessa, the one who had used his stele - glanced at him, "Your thoughts are written all over your face."

"Oh yeah?"

She laughed, a surprising sound. It vaguely reminded him of someone he felt like he knew. "Yeah. You're afraid. Not of her, of course, but of what she means."

He glared, "What would make you think that?"

Tessa just gave him a sad look, "Let's just say you remind me of someone I knew well. Certainly well enough to know what he was thinking. But you don't need to worry, she's far and beyond what anything else would ever be."

Jace let out a quiet sigh of relief. Yeah, banshees were few and far between, but still. Having something as powerful as Clary walking around out there - that was slightly terrifying.

Clary was finally released from Cora's grasp, smiling softly at her packmate. "I'm sorry I scared you, Coraline."

The other girl rolled her eyes as if the name was a joke between them. "Whatever, Clare-bear. Just don't do it again. Rest up, okay?"

His breath caught as Clary relaxed back into him, "Yeah, I will." He threw a quick glance over to her brother who was still standing where they'd sent her mundane friend out with the vampire. He seemed to be having an uncomfortable conversation with one of the Hales. Isabelle was discussing archery with the hunter girl, flashing her weapon around.

But it was the Hale wolf that pulled his attention.

Derek, Clary had introduced him as. She'd explained the full pecking order. He was the second Hale - had to be around Alec's age - early 20's. What shocked Jace the most about him were his eyes. They weren't the gold of a pack's beta - his were the blue of a killer. Only wolves who had killed an innocent had blue eyes.

And he wasn't shunned by the pack - which clearly dealt out justice to its own. So he must have atoned in some way.

"Staring is rude, you know."

Clary's voice drew him back to her.

"Sorry, not often you see a wolf with blue eyes and you're not hunting it."

She huffed. "Him - not it. We're not things." She sat up, taking her body heat away from him, "Derek's eyes have been blue since he was nine. Your Clave would have condemned a child for a mistake that wasn't even really his fault."

There was something in her eyes that told Jace not to push her on this. A danger he had sensed when she was using her power.

He lifted his hands in surrender, "Not condemning anyone here. Just curious."

"It's fine, Clary." Both Derek and Jonathan had walked to join them. "He's right. Most packs wouldn't risk the Accords allowing a wolf like me to stay with the pack and others would never cross paths with a shadowhunter. I'm surprised his buddy over there," he tossed his head towards where Alec was blushing at Magnus Bane, "hasn't commented on it yet."

Clary's brother crossed his arms across his chest, black veins still faintly visible beneath his skin. "Parabatai."

The other wolf hummed in question.

"They're parabatai. Not buddies. Ignoring that is like ignoring one of us is pack. You demean their relationship."

To Jace's surprise, the lycan nodded. "Apologies. Didn't mean to insult. I know how important that particular bond is." He clapped Jonathan on the shoulder before turning toward his mother and leaving the three of them on their own.

"He's -" Jace was still a bit shocked, "- polite."

Both siblings laughed. Clary more coughed than anything. "Yeah, he may be quiet, but he's not horrible. Just a bit rough around the edges."

"Well, we all might take a bit of getting used to." Clary's brother was watching as more and more of their pack gathered around Talia. "Wayland," Jonathan turned back to the two of them, staring down at where they were still on the floor, "I trust you can get her back to her room and make her rest?"

He nodded, "For sure." He glared at the redhead sitting beside him, "No more heroics for you. For real, this time."

Jon didn't bother acknowledging either of them and turned to join Helen as she also made her way toward the alpha. He was pretty sure he imagined Helen stiffening as Jon went near her.

"Alright, up you get." He stood, lifting a protesting Clary in his arms.

"No! Put me down! I can walk!" Her face flushed bright red and he was glad she was still in her gear from the night before because the outfit she'd worn at school would have shown off too much like this.

Isabelle and Cora both whistled at them and he felt himself blush.

One of the warlocks walked over to run her hand along Clary's arm. She was the other one - Dot, he was pretty sure - who had taken Scott upstairs. "Nope. You're letting him carry you. You're still too weak. Sorry, sweetheart."

Allison, the hunter's girl - her name he remembered - stood to follow them. "Do you mind if I come to watch over you? It's just," she seemed flustered, "what you did was amazing and I have so many questions."

Clary smiled over his shoulder, "Yeah, why don't you come with us?"

Jace just shrugged and took the stairs to where he now knew where her room was. He fully intended to keep his word to her brother and make sure she rested. But that didn't mean she couldn't help this little hunter-to-be.... not.

Allison was crying - in front of people. She never cried in front of people. But Cora, of all people, was there to wipe her tears away and tell her that what had happened was Clary saving them - protecting them.

They took Simon home, or at least someone did. They called him Raphael and she was pretty sure Clary had mentioned him as a vampire earlier. God, what had she walked into?

Whatever her dad was already a part of. That thought was sobering enough. And her aunt Kate too, if the reactions were anything to go by. They hid a whole world from her - this downworld or shadow-world, or whatever it was called. They knew about it and they hid it.

She moved to sit up on the floor where she'd been thrown by Clary's force. She just watched what was happening around her. The girl with the dark hair and tattoos was lounging on the couch that hadn't tipped over, Cora was hugging Clary tight as she practically sat in a boy's lap.

Allison found herself hoping that had been the guy she'd been talking about before on the bleachers - the one she'd been waiting for. Maybe he wasn't so oblivious after all. If the way he was looking at her was any indication, he definitely knew she existed.

Which made her gaze drift over to Scott. He was being tended to by one of the warlock women and her glowing purple hands. Stiles was there by his best friend, uncharacteristically quiet. He was chewing on his lip and bouncing a leg, but otherwise looked like a different person.

She made her way over to the three of them, "Is he going to be okay?"

The warlock glanced up at her, "Actually, I think he will be great. He just needs to sleep off the exhaustion from having all that energy drained out of him." She signaled to a man Allison didn't recognize to lift Scott. Stiles moved to protest, but the woman hushed him. "We're just going to take him to lie down, Stiles. You might as well come with us. You look like you're about to come apart at the seams."

He nodded and followed. Allison wasn't sure what to do.

"You look a little lost, little hunter." The woman with the tattoos called to her from the couch.

"Hunter? What's that supposed to mean?"

She gave Allison a brilliant smile and moved her heeled feet to make room, tapping on the cushion. "So, my brothers and I are commonly called shadowhunters or nephilim. We're human but with angel blood. Your family, the Argents, are a particularly notorious group of human hunters. Many have the Sight, meaning they can see through our glamours meant to keep our more unusual traits hidden. But they all know about the downworld and they all hunt downworlders."

Allison put a hand to her head, "So you're telling me that my family hunts people like you?"

The woman tossed her head from side to side, "Well, not like me. But like the pack here, yes. Lycans, warlocks, vamps, seelies - they're all fair game to hunters."

"My dad coming to say 'hi' to Talia - that was a warning, wasn't it?"

The shadowhunter rested a hand on her leg, "I'd bet so. A sort of 'there's hunters in town, keep your pack in line' kind of thing." She sighed, "I'm sorry you're learning about it like this, but, honestly, we'd all prefer you be on our side than out hunting. The Clave doesn't take too kindly to humans meddling in the downworld."

She let out a harsh laugh, "No, I get it. And I don't know what I would have done if I'd been taught you're all monsters before meeting you."

"You're right." The woman extended a hand with a shining snake bracelet wrapped up her arm, "I'm Isabelle Lightwood, shadowhunter and forensic scientist, also all-around badass."

Allison pressed her lips together in a crooked smile, "Allison Argent, anti-hunter and high school student. Nice to meet you." They shook hands. "And I love this bracelet!"

Isabelle leaned in conspiratorially, "It's not a bracelet." She winked and stood, raising her wrist as the snake uncurled.

Allison had to fight back panic, but - really - was it the craziest thing she'd seen today?

It rippled into Isabelle's hand until it formed a whip. She grinned dangerously and flicked it - and the thing solidified into a staff - all before flowing back around her wrist into a bracelet.

The shadowhunter threw herself back on the couch, "Pretty cool, huh?"

"Honestly? Kind of terrifying." But she had to grin. "All-around badass definitely belongs in your job description."

"And what about you? If you grew up in a hunter family, I know you know your way around weapons."

Allison thought about it. Yeah, it made sense. Her family sold guns - she'd been able to shoot as long as she could remember. "I mean, yeah. I'm a pretty good shot with a gun, but I used to love archery. I did it competitively for a long time."

Isabelle clapped her hands, "Ooh, we should get you and my brother on the range together! I'd love to see you two compete! He never gets to be around anyone else who uses a bow."

Clary's very loud protests drew both their attention to where the boy was picking her up to carry her - hopefully to rest.

Cora was making her way over to where Isabelle and Allison were and both she and the shadowhunter catcalled at the pair. Poor Clary and the boy blushed furiously.

Allison was still learning about this world she'd stumbled into but she had questions that she was pretty sure only Clary could answer. She turned to both women next to her, "Excuse me," and followed after the others heading toward the stairs.

When she caught up to them she realized she hadn't quite figured out what to say. "Do you mind if I come to watch over you? It's just," she was so flustered, "what you did was amazing and I have so many questions."

Of course, Clary smiled and nodded, "Yeah, why don't you come with us?"

Allison followed up the stairs to a room with a beautiful painting on the door. When they went in, it was pretty clear that it was Clary's art. She had sketches and paintings of her family and the pack decorating the walls and shelves.

And weapons. Anyone who walked into her room would know she was dangerous. Her swords and daggers were tossed haphazardly about like dirty clothes - clearly recently used - with others still up on a rack on a closet door.

No guns, though.

Come to think of it, she'd seen the weapons racks down in the training room and hadn't seen a single gun. It didn't look like the downworld used them.

"You all don't use guns."

The comment got the attention of both of them as the shadowhunter boy placed Clary gently on her bed. He scoffed, "No. They're pretty ineffective in our world unless you want to kill first, ask questions later. But that's a violation of the Accords. It's part of why the Clave frowns on hunters - they just kill indiscriminately."

She could feel a pit forming in her stomach. "So my dad - my aunt Kate - they -" she couldn't finish the thought.

Clary turned away, "I'm not positive about your dad, but yeah. Your aunt Kate for sure."

Allison collapsed into a chair next to her bed. A family of monsters - and not the kind she'd met today. "You guys keep mentioning a Clave - what is it?"

Jace cleared his throat as Clary scoffed. He flinched. "It's our governing body as shadowhunters."

That didn't make sense. "Then what does it have to do with everyone else if it's for shadowhunters?"

Clary cocked her head, venom filling her voice, "You know, that's a good question. Unfortunately, shadowhunters hold all the power in the downworld - they're like the police of all of us downworlders. Anyone who violates the Accords gets punished and sent to the Clave for judgement. Only problem is the Clave is horribly racist and hates us all. If they could purge us, I think they would."

The boy scrunched up his face, pinching the bridge of his nose, "That's not entirely fair. Those of us in Institutes don't feel the same way."

"What's an Institute? Like a school?"

Clary shook her head, "More like a satellite base. Shadowhunters have a home country, glamoured so mundanes can't see it, and then Institutes all over the world where Shadowhunters are stationed to keep the Accords and protect our realm from demons."

"Demons." Allison's heart pounded a bit. But it made sense. If Clary's power was angelic then there had to be some kind of opposite power, right?

The shadowhunter nodded, "Yeah, that's actually our main purpose. Not policing the downworld - although I'm pretty sure some shadowhunters have forgotten that - but protecting the humans from demons."

"Okay then." That was a lot of information to process. She felt shell-shocked all over again. "So what should I do?"

"What do you mean?" Clary sat up a bit.

"My family are killers. I want to be able to protect my friends. I'm not going to be the damsel in distress caught in the middle if something happens."

Jace grinned, "Didn't I hear you and Isabelle talking about archery?" She nodded. "Let's turn you into one of the pack."

Chapter Text

"No, dad. I'm staying here for the weekend. Scott is recovering, Clary is resting - my friends are hurt. Not to mention there's a lot you haven't been telling me. So I'll see you tomorrow night."

Allison clicked the phone off, taking a deep breath.

"I take it you don't argue with your dad much."

She startled, turning to see Jace leaning against Clary's doorjamb. "No. Never actually." She waved her phone as if it meant something, "First time I've ever refused to do what I was told."

He shrugged, "I've heard it gets easier. The whole 'coming of age' thing and whatever."

"You've heard?" She laughed a little at the odd phrasing.

"Well," he kind of rolled his eyes, "You sort of need parents to argue with to have experience."

Her jaw dropped, "Oh! I'm so sorry. I didn't know!" She hit her cell phone to her forehead, "Oh, she introduced the other two as your adopted siblings, didn't she?" She squinted at him out of one eye, "I'm an idiot, I'm really sorry."

"Shadowhunters are soldiers," he chuckled. "It comes with the territory."

"Soldiers? What are you? Seventeen?"

Isabelle's voice joined from the other side of the balcony, "We get our Angelic Rune at twelve and take our first official mission. At seventeen, we are considered to be of age and go abroad for a travel year before being issued our assignments."

Allison turned to be able to look between them, "But your brother stayed with you, right? So not everyone like, goes off to war."

"Alec is training to take over our Institute. He's the Interim Director when our parents are away. It's different for him. For fighters like Jace and myself," Isabelle tilted her head with a mischievous smile, "They tend to bounce us around to the hot spots."

She frowned, "Speaking of hot spots - how's she doing?"

"That doesn't make sense, Iz."

Allison smiled, "She's been asleep since he brought her up. We chatted a little bit about training me to be a hunter with the pack and then he did something with that-" she motioned like she was using a wand, "-thing and put her to sleep."

His sister raised a brow, crossing her arms, "Really, Jace?"

"What? I promised her brother I would get her to rest. She's resting."

"Whatever." She waved a hand at him. "So you want to train?" She grabbed Allison's arm and started tugging her away from Clary's door.

"Um, yeah. I was thinking I can't be stuck in between my family and my friends and be defenseless."

They went down the far staircase nearer the training space. "You said you're good with a bow, right?"

She grinned, "Yeah, like, Olympics-level good."

"Oh, this is going to be so great!" Isabelle tugged her through a doorway at the end of the sparring floor and past the stacks of weapons. "Alec!"

Her brother was at the far end of what she now recognized as an indoor range. He turned to see them and then continued with his firing - perfect shot after perfect shot. Allison was impressed.

As the girls approached, he lowered his bow. She'd never seen one like it before. It almost looked like a traditional drawstring, but it was made of some kind of metal with their shadowhunter runes etched into it.

"Isabelle." He glared at her, "Hunter. What can I do for you?"

Isabelle was clearly not at all bothered by her brother's icy demeanor. "I need you to work with Allison on using a bow in downworld combat."

He shouldered his bow and quiver and stalked past them. "No."

Just no?

Isabelle chased after him, arguing, but Allison walked toward the racks of weapons in this room. She picked up a compound bow - much nicer than the one she had at home, likely used for much more serious things than competing.

She grabbed one of the strange arrows Alec had been using, knocking it and drawing before he could reach the door back out to the sparring floor. She released, hitting right on the handle, directly between the two siblings.

"What makes you think he has anything to teach me?" She smirked.

Isabelle grinned at her as Alec tugged the arrow out of the door handle.

"That was actually a decent shot," he tossed the arrow back to her once they'd made their way back down the range. "For a mundane."

She knocked and drew the arrow again, focusing on one of the targets down the range this time, "Not all of us get special powers to protect us." A perfect shot.

Maia groaned. Waking up wasn't usually this painful.

"Woah, take it slow. We're not sure what the lasting effects will be."

She didn't recognize the voice and chanced opening her eyes. "A shadowhunter? Magnus must have been really desperate if he brought me to you."

The door opened gently as an alpha walked in- wait.

"Actually, he brought you to me." The wolf glanced at the shadowhunter almost fondly, "Thank you, Helen. Will you please tell Tessa she's awake?"

The shadowhunter girl, Helen, inclined her head in respect - to a wolf - she must have been more hurt than she knew. "Of course, Talia."

"My name is Talia Hale. I'm the alpha of the pack here, whose home you were brought to." The woman, Talia, turned to her. "I can tell you're confused. Why don't I start with what I know and you can fill in what I'm missing?"

She just nodded.

Talia stepped over to a comfortable chair settled in the corner, lifting it to move it closer. "Now, the creature I have upstairs bit you, siphoning out some of the essence that makes you a wolf. You ran to Magnus for aid and he was able to capture the creature and portal all of you here, to my pack. Does that sound accurate?"

Maia nodded again, "Yeah, that's about it. I thought it was a dog, you know? Just hovering outside the dumpsters behind the bar, looking for scraps or something. I went to shoo it away, growl at it or something - and it just lunged."

She grimaced, remembering a pain she hadn't felt since her turn. "I didn't see the red eyes. Didn't know that was even possible, honestly, but I used to have to fight a lot before, you know- so it wasn't hard to shake it off and I booked it. I'm pretty sure I was delusional by the time I made it to Magnus' because I don't remember much by then."

The alpha hummed, steepling her fingers as she considered Maia. "That certainly sounds like it was some kind of rabid dog given this power, doesn't it?"

"This power?"

She lowered her hands, interlacing her fingers as she rested her elbows on either armrest on the sides of her. "Indeed. The creature we encountered definitely did not act like an animal. It moved and behaved as one of us - and it turned someone. So whatever this thing is that you've brought us, it's either a guinea pig of some kind or maybe a mistake that can give us answers."

Sitting up was painful, but she still shot up in the bed, "You're telling me there's more of those things out there?"

Talia settled her hands on the armrests, pushing herself upright and out of the armchair. "No, dear. I'm saying there is something much worse. But I think you brought us the key in understanding it."

She smiled as she moved to the door, casting a look over her shoulder, "One of my girls will be up with a warlock to look you over again. If you're well enough, they can portal you home."

"And if I want to stay?"

There was a small laugh from the alpha. "You'll find we're very welcoming here."

"We should have been down there with her." Jocelyn was pacing the room with Deaton. "Did you see what happened?"

Alan hummed, not looking up from whatever he was examining under his microscope. "You know I didn't, Jocelyn. I don't sense your daughter's power the same way the rest of you do."

She resumed her pacing around the ash circle, "And Jonathan- I've never seen him like that, Alan."

"All the more reason to figure out this mystery, Jocelyn. Let Luke be there for him."

She groaned, "I don't want to be part of this."

"You need to be here. If it weren't for you, we wouldn't have the lead we have."

She spun on him, "All the more reason for me and my family to have nothing to do with it!" She pointed her drawn seraph blade at the mangy thing in the circle, "This thing is proof that Valentine is still alive. I agree it needs to be investigated, that he needs to be found - but not by me. Not by Clary."

Deaton finally looked up at her from the sample, "That thing was just a dog, Joc. No matter how many times I look at it, what I mix it with, it doesn't change. It was small - whatever he did made it grow, disfigured it."

Bile rose in her throat. "The younger it is, the better they take his treatments, he told me once. It was a puppy."

"Jonathan and Clary were still in the womb, right?"

She nodded.

"So he might have been trying to see if he could do the same with-"

Jocelyn rounded on him, "With wolves."

Helen wandered around the lower hall, searching for Tessa.

"You know, I'm fairly certain you know your way around here by now." Laura's voice chimed from behind her.

She couldn't help but grin as she turned to face the pack's alpha-in-training.

"What said I didn't know where I was going?" She leaned against the wall, letting Laura catch up to her.

"Oh, maybe the whole passing my door twice now."

Helen let her head fall against the wall behind her. "I'm looking for Tessa," she sighed.

Laura's answering laugh was musical and it was all she could do not to blush - she was dating Jonathan, after all.

"Oh, well then you're definitely lost. Tessa's probably in her library."

She pushed off from the wall, gesturing. "Well, you've proved me right. I didn't know you had a library. Please, lead the way."

"Oh, it would be my delight." The wolf offered her arm as if to escort her and Helen really did blush as she laced her arm through.

The library itself was as if a piece of the Spiral Labrynth had transported into a lower third floor of the mansion.

"This is incredible! Is this the basement?"

Tessa peeked around a shelf, her hair tied over a shoulder. "No, this is technically a lower floor. The basement is below us. Your mother uses that one."

That took a bit of the wonder out of it, but the library was still amazing.

"Do you girls need something?"

Helen snapped out of her staring to look at the warlock. "Yes, Talia said to have you go check in on the girl Magnus brought. She's awake."

"Oh, excellent!" Tessa didn't waste any time pulling the tie out of her hair and walking past the two of them.

Laura pulled her to follow, arms still laced together and she gladly went along.

It wasn't the first time she found herself jealous of Jonathan.

"Maia?" Tessa knocked on the wolf's door.

"Come in." The three of them went in - Helen had already met her, if briefly, and, well, the other two probably were expected to be there.

The girl sat up, eyeing Laura curiously. "When she said 'one of her girls' I didn't know she literally meant, like, her daughter."

Laura laughed and sat in an armchair that Talia must have moved after she'd left. "Yes, some of us are literally family here. Myself and my siblings, my cousins - all in the pack. And then there's others, like Tessa here."

The warlock smiled as golden sparks glittered around her hand she was using to examine her before frowning.

"I think she still has some of that energy stuck in the bite - like Scott did."

Helen clucked her tongue, "Yeah, that didn't go so well downstairs."

Laura tilted her head in very Talia way, "I mean, she didn't blow anything up this time."

"Not funny." Tessa shook her head, "No, nowhere near as much of it. I don't think its removal would be dangerous."

Maia pushed Tessa's hand away, "Wait, things are blowing up? What is going on here?"

"Didn't Talia explain?" Helen frowned.

"That there's another one of those things out there that's bigger and badder? Yeah. That something happened with things exploding to fix whatever happens when it bites you? No. She conveniently left that part out."

Laura leaned forward in the chair. "The boy that the bigger and badder one turned ended up collapsing this morning. One of our more unique members of the pack- who does have a history of sometimes blowing things up- was able to draw the energy out of him, but it was," she looked around at the rest of them.

Helen had been there. "It was the craziest thing I've ever seen. But she did not blow anything up. And no one was hurt."

Tessa sat up from leaning over Maia, "That's the important part - no one was hurt. Even Scott is going to be better than he was before."

"What about Jonathan?" Helen wasn't sure she wanted to ask it, but she had to. Picturing him still sent chills down her spine.

Laura looked at her confusedly, "What about him?"

"He'll be fine. It was his own power. He's just not used to having that much of it surge at once." Tessa smiled kindly.

"Oh. So it was that kind of morning." Laura pursed her lips. "That means he'll be grumpy all day."

"You know, Laura, you could try checking on him."

"No, I'll leave that to his family. When he gets like this, I'm the last person he wants to see."

Helen watched the exchange with as much confusion as Maia.

"So, who's Jonathan?"

Well, maybe not quite as much.

"Ah, yes. That would be Laura's boyfriend."

Maia raised a brow. "You sure about that? Doesn't sound like it."

Tessa laughed. "Well, Jonathan is unique."

"Oh, the unique one who helped the boy who was bit?"

Laura smirked, "No that would be his sister. The Fairchilds are particularly gifted."

The girl's eyes widened. "Fairchilds? What kind of pack is this?"

"A diverse one."

Clary woke slowly, feeling better than she had in a few days. A friendly conversation was happening outside her door, something about Allison training - until she could hear Isabelle drag her off.

The door creaked open as Jace came in. His back was turned as he focused on closing the door quietly.

"I take it Allison is on her way to the range?"

He spun to look at her with surprise. "You're supposed to be asleep- How on earth-"

"-did your rune wear off? You've met me, right?" She moved to sit up, horribly uncomfortable. She glanced at her arms to see she was still in her gear. "Sorry, but I'm kicking you back out. I want to put on some real clothes."

She was pleased to see him blush as she threw her legs over the side of the bed and stood.

"Right, I'll just- I'll be in the hall."

"Hey," Clary reached for his hand before he made it back out the door, "Thank you for everything." She pulled him closer to her so she could meet his stare. She'd been painting his eyes for so long, somehow she'd forgotten how incredible the mismatched colors were.

He watched her with something like awe and she just couldn't understand it. Sure, she'd done some crazy things in the last 48 hours, but he'd been the one to pick her up and keep her together.

"Why are you thanking me?"

"I don't think I'd have been able to help anyone if you hadn't been there. And I certainly wouldn't be okay right now if you weren't here."

Jace stepped up, lacing their fingers together. "I don't think that's true. You're more capable than you're giving yourself credit for, Clary."

She tilted her head and smirked at him, "Oh, I'm learning lots about what I am capable of."

He tugged her close, "Yeah?"

"Definitely," she leaned up on her toes and nudged his nose with her own, daring him to kiss her.

"Well," His hand that she hadn't stolen tucked her hair behind her hair, moving to trail down and brush a strand off her shoulder as well, "Maybe slow down a little bit. You really scared me."

She hummed. "This is weird, right? Should we feel like this?"

He pressed a gentle kiss to her temple, sending the warmest feeling she'd ever felt through her entire being.

"All I know is I haven't felt sane or calm until I sat down next to you on those bleachers. I don't care if it is because we have the same angel blood or whatever, but I think I've been waiting for you my whole life."

His whole body was vulnerable, as if admitting the exact same thing she'd felt was going to cause her to reject him somehow.

Clary pressed a gentle kiss to the side of his lips, almost more on his cheek. "You've seen my paintings. I have been in love with you as long as I can remember, dreading that I would never be a part of your life."

She sighed as his hand came to rest on her cheek. His mismatched eyes locked onto her green ones and she could see nothing but adoration. It simultaneously thrilled and terrified her.

He ran his thumb over her lower lip, drawing out a gasp. "There is no universe where you are not a part of my life, Clary Fairchild."

When he finally dipped down to kiss her, Clary felt something in her finally click into place, as if the both of them really had been waiting for the other to complete the other.

She reached up to run her fingers through his hair and pull him closer when he drew away, giving her a mischievous smirk. "I thought you were going to get changed?"

"Uh huh." She pursed her lips and shook her head at him, pushing him back toward the door. "Out!"

She ran her finger along her lips as he left laughing.

Stiles' knee was still bouncing uncontrollably. He was surprised Allison hadn't joined him in the room with Scott, honestly, but he was kind of glad no one was seeing him like this.

He was chewing on his thumb, debating if pacing the room would be uncalled for or not. That warlock girl, Tessa, had said that she was sure Scott was going to be great now - but he'd believe it when his best friend woke up.

"Come on, Scott. Time to wake up, buddy."

"Not like I could sleep with you all jittery like that anyway."

It was like all his energy dissipated in a relieved gasp. He moved to sit next to his friend. "Hey, you good? You have no idea how scary that was."

"You sure? It hurt pretty bad. I think that's usually a pretty good hint." Scott groaned as he moved to sit up. "Oh." He raised his brows in surprise, "Maybe not. It doesn't hurt now."

Stiles pointed, "See? That's what I mean! You didn't see it! It was like you collapsed," he motioned downward with his hand, "and then Clary did this crazy thing with her power where she like," he put both of his hands out at Scott's stomach, fingers outstreched, "sucked all this weird stuff out of you." He made a grabbing motion.

"But she covered everyone else in this gold angel dust or whatever," he made a show of brushing off his hair, "so whatever-it-was couldn't hurt anyone, and I guess some of her brother's magic or whatever was stuck in you too and he had to absorb that and he turned into this monster thing," he tossed his arms above his head like the Creature from the Black Lagoon.

"But then Clary took all the pixie dust and used it to force Jonathan to be himself again and then that new warlock guy - the super gay one? - pulled it out of Clary and trapped the stuff that she pulled out of you and she collapsed and everything went back to normal."

Scott just nodded at him, "Just like that, huh?"

Stiles pressed his lips together. "Pretty much, yeah."

"And now I'm okay?"

He shrugged, "The warlock who brought you up here said you'd be great now. Seems like the problem was whatever that stuff was."

"Tessa," Derek's voice came from the doorway. "Her name is Tessa. She's our High Warlock - the High Warlock of SoCal, if you want to get technical about it."

Stiles shifted, "How is that possible? She's like, what, twenty?"

The wolf scoffed, "Warlocks live for centuries, mundane. Tessa, in particular, is more powerful than most. She can do things no other warlock can dream of and some things that none would wish for."

"Okay," he emphasized the first syllable, "Is that meant to be as cryptic as it sounds? Or are you deliberately not telling us things because a mundane is here, because I'll go." He gestured to the door.

Scott rolled his eyes, "Just relax, Stiles. He's just saying Tessa is impressive, that's all, and we should respect her."

He floundered a little bit, "Ah, yeah. Got it." He stuck his chin forward in a bit of a nod. "Sorry."

There was a brief knock before the pretty girl - one of the shadowhunters - poked her head in. "Hey, I just promised Allison I would check in and see how you were doing."

Stiles didn't like the look on Derek's face at the mention of Simon's cousin.

"Where is the hunter girl?"

The shadowhunter stood straight and crossed her arms, suddenly looking very threatening. "I left her with my brother. They both have a talent for archery and she expressed a desire to learn to defend your pack. I believe it was Clary who gave her the idea."

Derek deflated a bit at that. "Yes, that does sound like something she would suggest."

"I don't know the full history here, but I know that most packs would have turned you over or thrown you out. You have an opportunity to make an ally of someone who could be a dangerous enemy. Speaking from experience," she raised a perfect brow, "when those present themselves, you take them."

Stiles just stared at the two of them as they faced off. This shadowhunter girl who was absolutely flawless and clearly deadly staring down Derek-freaking-Hale who was practically a cryptid in Beacon Hills with how feared he was.

"You're right. I shouldn't let my prejudice against her family get in the way of what's best for the pack."

Stiles and Scott shared a surprised sidelong glance.

Derek seemed to think for a moment, "Speaking of, do you know where my sister is?"

The girl grinned, "If you mean your older sister, I saw her quite content with Helen. I believe they went to check on Tessa's other patient."

He groaned. "Please don't let Jonathan hear you talk about Laura like that. He's a bit territorial."

She hummed, "Laura's loss. Helen's gain."

Stiles raised a hand, clearing his throat. "I'm a little confused here. One, I thought Laura and Jonathan were, you know, a thing. Two, who's Tessa's other patient?"

"You can't hide forever, Jon."

"Anyone who knows me knows where to look." It was true. He commonly could be found on the roof of the mansion. It wasn't easily accessible, but there was a balcony where anyone could speak to him if necessary.

"Doesn't mean you're not hiding, son." His adopted dad made quick work of the railing to sit on the edge of the roof a little ways away from him.

He huffed. Once Talia had told them of his mom's discovery - after the episode with Clary - he had to get out. Clary's power had blown up the training room once. He wasn't quite sure what his would do if it got out of hand.

"You heard what Mom said. It's true, he's really alive and it was his monster that did that to Scott - to Clary- to-"

"To you?" Luke turned to him. "We were on the balcony, we saw what happened."

Jon grimaced. "Mom saw too?"

"Yeah, I thought she might go back in that room and run that creature through right then."

He wished he could believe it was for him. But some part of him would always know his mother was afraid of him.

"Hey." Luke nudged his knee, "None of that. You are our son and we would go to Edom and back for you, greater demon or no."

"Hard to believe when you live with that under your skin."

"Just imagine how terrified Valentine will be when we let you loose on him."

Jon barked out a laugh. The image was hard to avoid in his head - letting out all that pent-up energy out, directed at the right target, with Clary there to pull him back like she always did.

"I'm pretty sure there would be no more Valentine."

His dad shrugged. "Oops."

They both laughed. It felt good - even if it was terrible. But maybe he needed a little dark humor right now.

"You know they're gonna figure this out, right? It'll be us that get to end him - our pack. It's what we deserve."

He nodded. "I do. But I don't want Clary there - and I think we saw that this whole thing is tailored to her power. She can fix it."

Luke turned to face him, "Wait, do you think she can pull that energy out of any victim?"

"I felt it. She only needed me because it had my power in it too. It touched me - siphoned out some of my power before it bit Scott. But that energy, magic, power - whatever - it's like it's on the same frequency as her banshee power."

"But Valentine wouldn't know Clary was a banshee, only about her angelic powers."

Jonathan felt a familiar rage build in his chest. "But there was someone who wanted desperately to be an alpha and knew all about Clary and her powers."