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His father was not there. Rupert Blackthorn's name was not among all those Shadowhunters who had done great deeds, heroes. But his father was too, Jesse bet Rupert bravely fought against the giant worm that took his life, or rather, he fought his father in law, Benedict Lightwood, who had been turned into a demon thanks to demon pox. After all, Benedict was guilty for having ended his life, socializing with demons —No, he didn't want to remember what he read in Benedict´s diaries—, but unfortunately Rupert Blackthorn had no weapons the day he died... many say that the only The Clave found was his boot, not even his body, and Jesse had no portrait of him to remember. He had hated him for a long time at the thought that his father had abandoned him, that he might have been more cautious, but being dead had given Jess time to reflect and finally forgive him.
There is no doubt that Jesse is —or was, he wasn´t used to conjugating verbs thanks to his post-death state— a Blackthorn, his straight black hair, along with his pale complexion made him undoubtedly part of them. His mother said Jesse looked a lot like his father, except for the Lightwood's green eyes. And in that she was right, he could prove it the day his uncle, Gideon Lightwood visited Chiswick House, with his angular features.
The way in which Mr. Lightwood had invaded him with questions about whether he wouldn´t wish to be a shadowhunter they would not question his decision and support him, but that only reaffirmed one of the greatest wishes himself had been surprised to have said in voice aloud. And here he was, dead, from stubbornness. Condemned to resignation.
It had not been more than a couple of days since he was invited to the Institute party and he was able to glimpse the different families that were there, surnames that lay in the contents of his favorite book. There were everyone his mother had cursed: his relatives the Lightwoods, the Herondales, the Fairchilds and the newcomers Carstairs, as well as the Bridgestocks, among others. The atmosphere had been lively, but all fell apart while he had been talking to Lucie in the games room.
Lucie, Lucie Herondale.
He still did not understand the scope of that no ordinary girl, being a shadowhunter was in itself, but there was something more about her. All this time he had merited the way he was able to lifted her out of the pit as something that only worked with children, but now that she was old enough to stand up to him and demand questions, certain things were beginning to fit. He had already noted that Herondales were capable of seeing ghosts, a remarkable quality. Although there was still much to find out, he hoped to be close enough to her to understand her reach, "and besides ..." was the last thing he said to her before he felt an evil presence in the Institute. What was he planning to tell her?
Lately he felt strange, he had spent so many years talking to only two living people: Grace and their mother. It was a different feeling, as if there was something latent, surely he was just feeling overwhelmed. After all, ghost conversations were full of gossip or wailing, and it wasn't that he hadn't talked to women all this time, there was old Molly. However, he was still a 17-year-old boy who was honest about what he considered attractive. Lucie was undoubtedly beautiful, with bright blue eyes, long lashes, and her brown hair streaked with gold, chocolate, and caramel. And not only that, she was loquacious and charismatic.
"This place is looking worse and worse." Said a male voice.
Jesse snapped out of his reverie and looked a man with blond hair, a curved smile, and blue eyes, who stood in a corner of the Blackthorn Manor ballroom. He walked over the chandelier crystals that lay on the floor, after all, they couldn't damage it.
"For sure an affair between Tatiana and the Lightwoods, quite entertaining to tell the truth." the ghost kept talking. "I think my sister, cousin? She's involved too, ” he paused. "I'm Nate and you are dead too."
Jesse snorted. "It isn´t something that I haven´t figured these 7 years, what are you doing here?" He inquired.
"I've been around here and there, but I felt something strong coming from this room, I still feel it." Nate replied.
Jesse didn't understand what he meant or why the ghost's location was here, he had no runes and maybe he had just been a mundane. At that moment his green eyes began to burn with the devastation that with his father he hadn´t had this opportunity, a small conversation, although he would not condemn him to enjoy only a few pieces of life.
"I don't want you hanging around here near my sister, go away." He said firmly. He feared if there were more ghosts in the house, but one less was enough to protect Grace.
"For my part exist other blonde woman I want to be far away—" he stopped.
There were slight creaks from the vines coming out of the balcony, barely imperceptible but there was only silence in the Manor. Soon the door flew open, bringing with it the chill of the night.
Jesse hurried to the balcony and a smaller figure ran into him face to face, he recognized her.
"What in Raziel’s name are you doing here?" He hissed. He couldn't believe what his eyes was seeing, Lucie, a Herondale. He had never imagined that the new generation of half angel warriors would enter his home, those who would be part of the pages of A History of Notable Shadowhunters, but he did not think it was going to be as if it were as the Sleeping Beauty´s castle.
"I think it should be clear," she said. Connecting her blue eyes with his green ones. "I am creeping about, spying." And he never thought that would be her answer.
Jesse’s eyes flashed. "Oh, for—" I've stepped back. "Come inside, quickly."