Chapter 45 – Deadly Cold

The last remnants of snow crackled under my feet as I left the Gard's compound. Eyes down at the smooth stone pavement, I tried to ignore Jace, who was so close I could feel his body heat through my coat. My arm hung over his shoulders as he slowly placed one foot in front of the other; the pace so slow for my sake that frustration would have nearly choked me if the pain hadn't already been squeezing all the oxygen out of my lungs. On the outside, I had to look helpless. Weak. It was my idiot pride trying to convince itself otherwise. I was hurt and vulnerable because I had let a demon impale me to save Jace's life.

I stopped a few yards from the Gard's gates and tried to pull away from Jace. "I can walk on my own," I uttered, and my hot breath blew little white clouds into the cold evening air.

It had gotten dark while we were meeting with the Inquisitor. The sun had disappeared behind the mountains of Idris while Jace and I had sat at her desk, listening to her talk to herself. My body had been so consumed by the pain that I could barely remember anything she had said. All I remembered now was the stunning view of Alicante from her office; how brilliant sky-blue had turned to rose-pink orange and finally been swallowed up by an ocean-blue darkness.

Jace tilted his head back to get a better look at my face, but made no move to let go of my arm. He raised one arched blond brow and pressed his lips together as if I'd said something utterly absurd. "You can't even make it to the end of the street without help, Clary," he remarked seriously, but a smile crept onto his mouth.

"I'm tired of being patronized by all of you," I murmured, tugging hard on my arm, which caused Jace to let go and I stumbled, doubled over against the nearest wall, the jerky movement causing me to see stars.

"That's what I meant." Jace's voice was conflicted. As if he wanted to rub it in my face that he was right but couldn't suppress his concern.

By now the pain had become unbearable. Every movement burned like my muscles were on fire. Every movement was slow and stiff, as if my body was made of stone instead of flesh and bone. My sense of balance had deserted me the moment I had sat down in the Inquisitor's office. So who was I fooling? Jace was right and I would never make it back to the Basilias without his help. But I was stubborn. So stubborn that this trait would kill me.

I leaned against the wall of some house and stared in Jace's direction. At least I hoped he was where my eyes were staring, for my vision was nothing but a solid white, slowly fading in intensity. Jace took a few steps toward me and grabbed my forearm again. His form slowly took shape before my eyes, and I had to tilt my head back because he was closer than I had expected. Frustration crept across his face as he looked down at me through darkened eyes. In contrast, his fingers felt too soft around my wrist.

"I hope we can postpone this visit to the Seelie Queen as far back as possible," he said quietly, and I suddenly realized that his frustration wasn't directed at me.

I narrowed my eyes in confusion and was about to tilt my head when the memory flashed through my brain like a flash of light. I had completely forgotten about that part of conversation with Imogen. The part where she had hired me to do the Clave's dirty work again. Maybe I had deliberately tuned her out as I had watched the sky change color on the horizon, because feeling taken advantage of. Today they had already excluded me from the vote, even though they had put me in charge of negotiating the treaty. It would always come down to the same thing.

The Accords with the Shadowworlders didn't include all clans. Vampires, werewolves, and warlocks had willingly met with us, making their concerns a condition of their help. But nothing had been heard from the fairies for weeks. The Queen of the Seelie Court had not sent a representative to meet with the Shadowhunters. She hadn't even answered the Inquisitor's invitation. No one could say with certainty whether this was due to me as a negotiating partner or general disinterest. The Clave didn't rule out that she stayed out because she wasn't ultimately dependent on Earth's fate. She had her own world, which would continue to exist without the Nephilim.

Imogen had commissioned Jace and I to pay a visit to the Queen of the Seelie Court. To let her know about the outcome of the vote and find out her stance on the conflict with Valentine. With the fairies absent, the Clave assumed their neutrality, but perhaps they would join the other clans once they heard about all the innovations the Accords promised. If they wished to remain neutral, they would not apply to them. They would still not have the same rights as Shadowhunters. Neither Malachi nor Imogen believed that was the Queen's intention. She used to think several steps ahead. She always did what was beneficial to her people. The truth was that her neutrality worried the Clave.

Jace tugged my arm lightly and my back broke away from the wall, so my face was no longer in the shadows of the building. As I began to stagger, his second hand shot up to my right shoulder to hold me upright. He ducked his head in my direction and furtively narrowed his eyes. "Do you even have any idea what I'm talking about?"

"Of course I do," I replied, annoyed, trying to stand up straight. I resisted the urge to break free of his grip. I was beginning to accept that I wouldn't be able to stay on my feet without Jace.

"You'd already seemed distant during the conversation with the Inquisitor," he replied in a sharper tone than I expected, as if the fact infuriated him. "You didn't even bother to listen to her. She asked you a question twice and you didn't even turn to her."

This information was new to me. I pressed my lips together to keep from grinning. Of course, my behavior was purely out of pain, but the fact that I must have upset Imogen by doing it made it a little easier to bear. At least until Jace spoke again.

"She offered to send someone else because she doubted your condition," he remarked, emphasizing every word. "If you'd just listened to her for a few more minutes, we wouldn't have to go to the Seelie Court now."

I sighed. The air pressed against my lungs like a thousand tiny needles trying to pierce me from the inside out. I closed my lids for a second and listened into the silent night. Then I pulled out of Jace's grip and dropped the mask that still surrounded me even now. It was easier to speak the truth when he wasn't touching me. I turned my back on him and took a few unsteady steps in the direction of the road, which we had to walk anyway. Now that Jace couldn't see my face, I took the liberty of contorting it in silent agony. I didn't allow myself to cry, but I could tear my lips apart in a silent scream.

"You were right about what you said this midday," I whispered, looking at the little cloud that rose from my mouth into the sky. "It's killing me." I paused for a second, waiting for the weight of the words. Weakness had always been my greatest enemy. Admitting it was a hundred times worse. "I still don't regret coming here today. That speech was important. Maybe the most important thing I did during my time in Alicante."

"It was," Jace said from behind me, the anger drained from his voice. Only something uninvolved remained. "I hope the pain is worth it."

"I don't know," I laughed hoarsely, the dryness in my throat making me cough. "I want to say it is, but I can hardly stand here alone without remaining conscious." In a slow, controlled movement, I turned to Jace, who was watching me warily. The conflict was written all over his face. "I really tried to listen to your grandmother, but you see how I look. I can't even breathe properly without straining, so don't blame me for not sparing you a visit to the fairies. You might as well have spoken for me."

Jace's face became impenetrable. Just as he couldn't get over my wall, I couldn't get over his either. In a few steps he had closed the distance between us and heaved my arm around his shoulders in a movement so hesitant I wasn't sure if the pain was controlling my nervous system so much that I just couldn't feel anything anymore.

"Why didn't you tell me how you felt?" he asked as he started walking without warning. Slow. One step in front of the other and yet we finally left the Gard behind us. "I knew you were bad. One could see it, especially after the meeting with the Clave, but you're so good at covering it up. Even now I have no idea how bad it actually is."

"I guess I'm better than I thought, then," I murmured contentedly, earning a condescending look from Jace.

"You shouldn't be proud of that," he reminded me. We had a similar conversation earlier.

"Maybe this will go away someday," I said barely audibly. The thought drove a lump in my throat. "When this is all over and there is no more war."

Jace didn't answer for a long time. All one could hear were our boots on the cobblestones. The world was spinning around me, and the wind had picked up. With an effort I lifted my head and realized that we were on a bridge that separated the southern part of Alicante from the northern part. A sigh escaped my lips. It would still be a while before we reached Angel Square. The way here had seemed so quick to me ...

"It will. And if not, I'll help you with that," Jace promised, his tone even hollower than before. As if he wanted to distance himself from the content of his words. When I thought back to the hate that had passed between us since we first met, I understood why. He was afraid to mean the words seriously. So I just nodded as we rounded the next corner. I wasn't the only one who needed time.

We hardly met a soul while walking through Alicante. Most of the roads were deserted, and only a few Nephilim were seen transporting goods or on patrol. Apart from the black sky, the absence of people was the only indication of the time. We were passing an alley when, inexplicably, the hairs on the back of my neck rose.

It was nothing more than an instinct, a feeling that I couldn't place. I slowly raised my head, which had been directed towards the pavement. Jace gave me a sideways glance, but I saw nothing unusual or disturbing in his eyes. I waited, ignoring the sluggishness of my muscles, too tired to keep my body upright.

My fingers started to tingle. No noise. No movement. Hardly a real shadow out of the corner of my eye. And yet the adrenaline suddenly rushed into my blood. I didn't stop because that would have given us away. But I allowed myself a deep, long breath. It sounded like relief and felt the same. Adrenaline didn't function like an Iratze, but it was so closely linked to the human survival instinct that every movement suddenly felt a little easier.

Again, Jace turned his head towards me and this time I saw my own realization mirrored in his eyes. Our feet continued to move across the street, and I glanced at the its nameplate only to realize we were almost there. Only two streets separated us from Angel Square. So close ... I stared down at my body. And yet so far away ...

"We're being followed," I whispered, just loud enough for Jace to hear.

Jace gave his head the slightest nod. He must have noticed as well. His face twisted into a dissatisfied grimace. "We should've taken the longer route. That would've kept us on the main street. Now we're surrounded by small passageways. Stay alert."

Jace turned onto the next alley and now the square could be seen glowing in the distance. My lips tightened involuntarily as I surveyed the distance we still had to travel. This area of Alicante was built right on the river and was criss-crossed by many small canals. The parallel streets were not wide enough for a carriage, but only designed for pedestrians and occasionally ended in a circular square. The builders had probably thought that the antique fountains in the middle of the squares would give the neighborhood a romantic touch. Right now I saw nothing romantic in the high walls of the houses that were so close to us that they seemed to encircle you.

Jace pressed his fingers harder into my arm above his shoulders and picked up the pace. I tried not to hinder him. Step by step. My feet stumbled. Jace's breathing became more intense and his arm at my waist dug tightly into my coat as he kept my body from stepping out of line. A thump behind us made him spin around and I spun with him.

There was barely a second to react. It all happened so fast my battered brain didn't have time to react. Jace was thrown from me, and I stumbled after him as his fingers dug deep into the fabric of my jacket. Two dark figures tugged at his arms. Neither of them made a sound. But Jace's hiss was all the more angry and so loud that it was carried through the entire alley. His fingers were still locked around my waist when a third person pushed between us and threw me violently against the nearest wall. My head banged against the brick so hard my consciousness went blank for a few moments.

My body fell. My eyes widened in a daze, and someone jerked my shoulders up. A groan escaped my lips and I squinted to see something in the darkness. My eyes darted to Jace, whose arms were being pinned behind his back by two hooded figures. He tried to free himself and an almost wild expression glowed in his eyes, twisted with anger, as he let loose a series of curses at the two.

Someone laughed a dark, smug laugh that sounded vaguely familiar. I turned my head to the side and froze when I saw the third figure towering inches above me. At least as tall as Jace, but a little lanky in build. He had his arm stretched across my chest and was leaning against it with his body weight. I could hardly breathe as he pinned me against the wall. Like he was afraid I might escape.

The figure was still laughing and my heart started pounding as I couldn't make sense of who I was dealing with. I could feel the palms of my hands starting to sweat. His face was hidden in a deep hood, so I could only guess. I leaned into him, which seemed to confuse him because he cocked his head back to avoid me. The movement was enough for me to smell his scent and my body instantly froze beneath me. A wave of nausea washed over me as I remembered the aftershave that had made me uncomfortable earlier this afternoon.

"Blake Ashdown," I blurted out. I couldn't hide my surprise.

Jace, who must have heard my words, went dead silent from one second to the next. In a deliberate movement, he turned sideways until our eyes met. The horror in his golden eyes startled me. It made my hands sweat more. If he says he's going to kill you, then he'll try. Now you're an easy target. I was an idiot. A foolish, arrogant idiot who thought she was invincible and couldn't shut up because her pride outweighed her survival instincts.

"You're clever, I have to give you that, Clarissa," Blake laughed and moved away from me to look at me. Nothing about his laugh sounded happy or content. It was the laughter of an angry, corroded boy who was too far away from civilization that he no longer needed to hide that side. He cocked his head as his dark blue eyes swept over my face and a hateful, vengeful smile spread across his mouth. "I'm going to enjoy hurting you so much."

The situation seemed surreal to me. Nothing about it made sense. Over the past few weeks, I had often contemplated my own death. But at no time had I thought that I might die so dishonorably and insignificantly. In a black alley somewhere in Alicante, murdered by political fanatics. No, that was definitely not how I had imagined it.

Blake released me and pulled the hood completely off his head. His brown-red hair looked almost gray in the pale beam of the little witch-light. One second our eyes met, the next he was tearing my coat from my body and throwing it over the parapet into the canal that separated us from the other side of the alley. Then, faster than I could react in my condition, I was pushed against the wall again. My nerves flinched once from the cold of the rock, which now clearly ate into my gear without the jacket.

"Didn't you say a few hours ago that you'd be able to kill me in your sleep?" Now a derisive amused tone crept into Blake's voice.

I used all my strength to keep my body upright as I met his gaze. "Maybe I overestimated myself a little," I admitted, returning his smile with a poisonous grin. "Don't you think it's a bit unfair to pick at me while I'm in this state?"

Blake snorted. "Fair? Come on, you should be able to judge me well enough to figure out I don't believe in morals."

"A coward, then," I murmured, my grin widening. I could feel Jace trying to silence my loose mouth with just his eyes.

Something in Blake's right hand glittered in the dim light, and it took my brain several seconds to match the silver to an item. A knife. Barely longer than the palm of my hand, but as long as the blade was sharp it wouldn't make a difference. My gaze wandered from the knife to his face. The grin on his lips had been replaced by a scowl, as if my words had upset him. He reached up and pressed the metal precisely to my throat. Just above my carotid artery. I suddenly found it difficult to breathe.

"Stop it, Blake," Jace hissed excitedly, his voice shaking with anger. His burning eyes were fixed on the knife, and he had started fighting back against Blake's two hooded friends. Despite being outnumbered, they had trouble holding him down. "Let her go right now!"

Blake seemed perfectly composed. He pressed the knife further against my neck and then turned his head slightly in Jace's direction to stare at him almost bored. Jace's brow furrowed and he jerked backwards, causing one of the figures to lose its grip on his arm in surprise.

Jace seized the moment of surprise and lunged forward, straight at Blake and me. The second person, still holding him, stumbled right after him, driven by the violence of his footsteps. "Let's see if you're still–"

Blake didn't hesitate as he pressed the blade harder against my skin. I lowered my eyes but could only feel the icy steel meet my hot blood. The rest of his sentence caught in Jace's throat, and he came to a halt with frantic strength; completely forgot the anger for a split moment.

"One step closer and I'll slit her entire artery," Blake whispered, his voice serious. He watched as his two friends grabbed Jace's arms again and pushed him a little away from us. This time Jace didn't even protest. He didn't do anything except give me a blank look that I didn't know how to return. He looked like he had just woken up from a nightmare and wasn't sure if he had actually only dreamed it all. "I've nothing against you, Herondale. Honestly not. But you've become so lulled that you can no longer see the truth."

"Let Clary go, Blake," Jace said. "If you proceed now, I'll have no choice but to tell the Clave what happened here today. This time, you and your friends won't get off so easy. She's not a Downworlder. She's Clarissa Morgenstern and of great interest to the Clave!"

Blake rolled his eyes as if he already knew all of this. He gave Jace a mischievous grin, then wedged the knife deeper into my throat. I had to press my lips together to keep from making a sound. I certainly wouldn't do him that favor. "If you try something as daring as rescuing her again, you might as well wipe her blood off the floor."

I had no idea what Jace would say to that. Not so long ago he would have liked to have stood in Blake's place himself. We had formed a fragile friendship, but I would always be the daughter of the man who had sent his parents to their deaths. I was all the more surprised when his mechanical expression turned into an angry mask. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up as he bared his teeth and looked at Blake like he wanted to rip him to pieces. A fire burned in his golden eyes, just waiting for the right moment.

Either Blake didn't get it or he just didn't care. He turned back to me and the smile faded from his face. "One thing is for sure, my dear," he whispered so softly that the words would not reach Jace. "You will die tonight."

"That's what ... a lot of people have already thought before you," I gasped out, craning my head in the air. For a moment, the sight of Blake lost all focus as the pain ripped through my stomach and up my spine.

"There's nobody here who could help you," Blake whispered, his tone changing. His hatred receded into the distance, replaced by a mildness that made me narrow my eyes suspiciously. "But nobody would come to your rescue anyway, right?"

Blake looked down at me expectantly and grimaced in displeasure when my slow brain couldn't follow him. There was little I could do except keep from sinking to the floor, his arm against my chest already taking some of the load off my shoulder. The uneven bricks digging coldly and relentlessly into my back weren't much of a help in focusing my concentration, either.

Finally, he sighed and moved his face closer to mine. His blue eyes glittered excitedly as if he wanted to tell me a secret. "Your father can't help you," Blake explained. "He'd never make it into the city unnoticed. Your brother, on the other hand ..." He sighed theatrically. "Nobody knows what he looks like. He could come if he wanted, but would he help you? After all, he's a monster with no rhyme or reason. No smarter than an animal, they say."

A sound escaped my throat, but I couldn't tell if it was pain or anger. It elicited a smirk from Blake. "I hope he sneaks into the city," he then bluntly admitted, as if unable to see the threat. "I want a chance to kill him. Your brother. Jonathan. Do you know what I'd say before I put my knife in his heart?" He didn't wait for my answer this time. "I'd tell him it's the same knife I put to his little sister's throat before I killed her."

My fingers were shaking. No more from pain or cold. I had tried so many times to ignore Jonathan's shadow, which seemed to accompany me everywhere. Letting go of his old self was hard. Hearing others talk about him like he wasn't my brother but actually this monster was heavier. The more time passed since we had last met, the more I had convinced myself that this monster didn't really exist. That Jonathan had voluntarily chosen to fight alongside Valentine. That there was no blood, which had turned him into a bloodthirsty, emotionless being. Into a demon. Sometimes, when all the events of the past few weeks seemed far away for a short time – like a dream –, I couldn't believe that Jonathan was gone. That the blood now coursing through his veins had distorted, if not erased, all of his feelings and memories.

"You could never kill him," I muttered, surprising myself as I burst out laughing, which quickly turned into a cough. "You may kill me, but he is stronger than me. Even on your best day, he will be superior to you."

Blake snorted, lowered the knife from my throat, and smeared my blood on his pants. "You're inferior to me, Clarissa. Just because you can't take him on doesn't mean the same for me. You are weak." Now it was he who laughed. I risked a quick glance at Jace, whose darkened eyes didn't even notice it for a few seconds, until finally the expression in them softened a little when he did. Hardly noticeable, as if he were highly concentrated. Like he was going through every possibility to get us out of this situation. "Weakness. You Morgenstern women have it with weaknesses, don't you? I heard your dear brother didn't even hesitate when he rammed Mellartach into your mother's chest. If it was up to me, Jocelyn didn't deserve such a quick death. None of you–"

Blake got no further. Something in my chest tightened in pain at his words, but this time it wasn't the physical pain that shot through my body like a bolt of lightning. This pain went deeper, clutching its claws around my throat and almost knocking me off my feet. I didn't know how. I didn't know where I got the strength from. All I knew was that the mix of anger and sadness that suddenly settled over my vision was replacing the ache in my stomach. Suddenly there was nothing but me and Blake and the words hanging in the air between us. Suddenly, energy surged through my veins, clenching my fingers and clenching my jaw.

My hands flew up, clutching Blake's coat and pushing his body away from me. Blake stumbled backwards, completely oblivious to the effect of his words. Not giving him time to come to his senses, I lifted my knee and kicked him between the legs with every force my body could spare.

Blake groaned and had to brace himself on the channel railing to keep his balance. For a second the pain seemed to overwhelm him, then it vanished from his face. One second, before he stood up and charged at me, a furious look in his eyes. Not a problem for me under normal circumstances. But right now, with the adrenaline-like power leaving me as quickly as it had come, I could only wait helplessly for Blake to reach me. My body was weak, so weak that I might even have dropped to my knees on my own. If his hand hadn't been quicker.

Blake slapped my face so hard I didn't even feel my head hit the stone. I felt almost weightless, although my mind was sure I was lying on snowy, wet ground. I could smell the mixture of snow, mud and sewage in my nose. On the tongue, the taste mingled with the metallic note of blood.

I could barely catch my breath when a pair of rough hands grabbed my shoulders and hauled me back to my feet. What was Blake up to? He had already promised not to grant me a quick death. My attack had probably only worsened his mood in that regard.

Shadows danced before my vision. I felt the brick of the wall digging into my back again. Nothing but a loud, consistent tone in my ears. I blinked several times. The world around me had started to spin and I had the feeling that I was about to spit the contents of my stomach onto Blake's coat. Blake's palm slapped my cheeks several times. Perhaps he had noticed that my senses were not fully intact. Slowly the darkness shifted to the edges of my vision and his face took shape before my eyes. Not very sharp. I squinted and tried to focus, but that didn't change anything.

Blake parted his lips and started to talk. I could feel his breath on my skin. I didn't hear his voice. He dug his fingers into my shoulders and shook me, which only made everything spin faster. A jolt went through my body, but I wasn't sure if it was Blake or my lack of balance. My head fell to the side and my feet lost their footing. The fire in my stomach was to blame and yet it was just a dull throbbing at the edge of my consciousness, like the rest of my senses.

I could see Jace from the angle of my head. Not sharp, more like a shadow. He struggled, thrashed, fought. It took me a while to realize that he was trying to pull away again.

Blake leaned in my direction and grabbed my arms. He had trouble holding me up because he had to lift my full body weight. When his grip was reasonably stable under my armpits, he dragged me backwards down the alley. Only my toes touched the stone. What was he doing? I didn't understand what he was up to. At least not until my gaze fell on the canal we were heading towards.

My body began to wriggle, but Blake seemed overwhelmingly strong compared to me. He didn't even stop when I tried to free myself with almost ridiculous movements. Somewhere deep in my chest, my heart began to race. The question of whether I would rather succumb to the current or the cold of the water sent my brain into overdrive. The dark fringes that danced at the edge of my vision pushed forward as if fainting were about to overtake me prematurely.

I would drown. I wouldn't have the strength to stay afloat. If I was lucky, I would pass out soon enough. If I was unlucky, it would be agony. A death that was way way down on my list of potential deaths. I'd much rather have a long, painful torture. But I could see why Blake had decided against it: in my condition, I would pass out before he even got started. Then he could drown me right away.

The water of the canal shimmered up at us like a black mirror. As if it would swallow me the second I broke its surface. It was so dark I couldn't even tell how deep the canal was. I lifted my head to look at Blake, who was studying the water as intently as I was. Probably to make sure it would be a suitably cruel death for me. After all, that was what he wanted. Though I would have expected him to make my death more personal given that he had pushed all attention on his skills earlier.

Blake pushed me forward, away from him, and his action was so unexpected that for a moment I seemed to float between him and the railing – frozen in time – until gravity pulled me towards the ground. I instinctively stretched out my arms and a jolt ran up my spine as the railing caught my fall with all the brutality of silver steel. My chin hit the top bar by a hair's breadth. The two supports of the railing were all that separated me from the water, which hissed past at a depth of at least one meter below me. That close, it almost sounded like a distorted, continuous demon laughter. Just for a moment, because as the lower metal arc slammed into my chest, all oxygen left my lungs. I gasped loudly, drowning out the menacing hiss of the canal.

"Have a safe trip," Blake said, his tone so smug it made my anger surge again. But I knew I wouldn't change anything. I was drained. I would die.

I slowly turned my head and saw Blake's hands darting towards me. I didn't resist as he grabbed my arms again and heaved me onto the railing. Now I really hung directly over the raging water. My fingers still gripped the water-splashed parapet, but I didn't know how long I'd be able to hold on once Blake released me.

My legs flew through the air. Blake couldn't get me over the railing in one go. Not because I was too heavy, but because my right foot was wrapped around the pillar closest to me. Pure reflex. He bent down and jerked my foot away. I pressed my lips together, feeling like his brute force was going to break my ankle.

I hung over the railing, more unconscious than alive, staring down into the canal. I had maybe ten seconds before Blake would grab my armpits again and tip me over. Then it was up to my grip on the metal pipe how long I could hold out. Blake would probably rip my fingers off it once he got rid of my body.

My eyes lingered on the sparkling water, broken only by the surging force of the current. Without the moon shining down the alley, it actually looked black. Darker than the rest of the shadows around us. Endless black. Like Jonathan's eyes. I gasped, trembling. Maybe it wasn't so bad if it was over for me today. Maybe this death was better than having to stand in Jonathan's way one day. It was easier without question. No pangs of conscience. No emotions. No pain.

Blake pushed me over the parapet in one abrupt movement. My body tumbled toward the water, my fingers gripping the top railing with all the strength I had left. Then, just as my feet touched the stream, two hands grabbed my wrists, and I was pulled up again. But this time away from the water. My body hit the railing and someone pulled me to the other side, back into the alley, and wrapped their arms around me. A shock went through my body. My mind wanted to race, but I was so drained that there seemed to be nothing in my head to think about.

I was pulled backwards, away from the railing, but my fingers continued to grip it with a hardness that made me tremble. I jerked my head around and the arms let me go. A black figure spun on its own axis and turned its back to me. Blond hair flashed in the dark glow of the few witch-lights. Jace.

My eyes widened as I watched Jace lunge at Blake's two friends who were trying to contain him, to no avail. A game they wouldn't win. His movements were so quick, so precise, that even I would have found it difficult to follow them if I had rested. He stretched out his elbow and rammed the boy nearest to him in the stomach, so hard that he himself hit the railing a few meters from me and had to hold on. Groaning, he knelt and clutched his stomach.

My eyes darted from the hunched person back to Jace, whose opponent drew his seraph blade to corner him. Jace jumped back two leaps, so far, I almost thought I was dreaming. I barely felt my trembling legs give out beneath me and I wrapped my arms around the iron post closest to me. Like a lifebelt on the high seas that kept you from going under. The sound of the water was so present in my ears, the fall had been so sure that I still had the feeling of falling.

I lowered my head and was about to close my eyes when Blake slipped into my field of vision. He was lying on the pavement maybe a meter away from me and didn't move. I hadn't heard him scream. Blood was pouring from his head, and I immediately wondered if he had cracked his skull in the fall or if Jace had injured him in some way.

"Clary." My panicked eyes left Blake's lifeless body and met Jace, who crouched in front of me. His fingers shot up to my cheeks. They touched my shivering skin for a second, then in one jerky motion he peeled off his coat. His hands, which had just been deadly weapons, were now surprisingly gentle as he pulled the jacket on me. I couldn't help, couldn't make it easier for him. I was caught in a state of shock that caused me an unknown panic.

"We have to get out of here," Jace said, and he tried to hoist me to my feet. His face was inches from my own. I stared at him and involuntarily flinched.

Had I been in my right mind, I probably would have felt the power in the air. The last time he'd used his angelic power, it had seemed like a searing heat I could almost touch. It was the glaring intensity of his golden eyes that convinced me that the power of the angel was coursing through his veins right now. Though he tried to sound calm, he couldn't hide the uproar on his face. Anger seemed to eat him up.

I looked again at Blake, who still didn't move. "Is he dead?" I ground out hoarsely.

Jace shook his head. "It'll be a while before he comes to his senses, though," he explained quietly, wrapping his right arm around my waist to keep me upright. My legs were shaking so badly that I feared I would collapse at any moment. "We have to get out of here. Clary, can you walk?"

It took me a moment too long to react. Not because I didn't hear Jace's words, but because my brain was so incredibly tired. I could have saved myself all that if I had just listened to his advice this afternoon. I shook my head slowly. "I don't think so."

Jace just nodded and I focused on his face, on the hard line of his jawbone, trying to stay conscious. The anger drained from his eyes as he gave the three motionless figures one last, fleeting look. His arm traveled up my back and he stepped even closer to me so that my left shoulder touched his chest. I hadn't even realized how close we had been until that point. Jace ducked his head to look at me. His golden eyes met mine and I almost winced, realizing too late that my attention was still on his face. A look of uncertainty crossed his face but disappeared behind his tightly pressed lips.

"I'll carry you back," Jace warned, and barely a breath later, he picked me up. I tried to wrap my arms around his neck, but every movement of my muscles sent a searing pain through my stomach. Even the shaking of my body, which must have been from the shock, hurt. I was powerless. Blake and his friends seemed only slightly more lifeless than me. All I could do was lean my head against Jace's chest and take deep breaths to control my panic.

Valentine had taught us a lot, but panic attacks, or anxiety in general, hadn't featured prominently in his program. I knew Blake's attack would throw me into some kind of shock. I could feel the fear in my bones, spreading there like a paralyzing cold, preventing me from thinking clearly. I was weak. Without Jace, my body would now be floating somewhere in the canal. I couldn't even pinpoint why Blake's attack upset me so much. My heart was racing and I felt my throat tighten. I could hardly breathe. Darkness clouded my vision.

Jace moved beneath me. Now that I was no longer a burden at his side, he began to run. As if he wanted to get out of the alley as quickly as possible. I focused my attention on the lights at the end of the narrow street. Jace's boots echoed across the pavement, crunching snow, kicking up pebbles. The lights got bigger. Angel Square was not far away. Not long now before we would be safe.

-

Please don't come at me for saying that I really like this chapter. There's just so much action happening here! Blake seems to be our new villain for the moment, Jace manages to use his Angelic powers and Clary ... well she is in some pretty serious shit. Did you like the chapter? :)

Good and bad news: I submitted my thesis last Friday so I technically have more time. BUT. I have to pass a test on Saturday to be accepted into the master-programm of my dreams. It's a logic test and appearently, my logic is shit because I'm failing all the mock tests with great success. What a wonderful week to be me. (slight sarcasm detected)

Never mind, I hope you enjoyed the chapter. Please leave a comment.

Skyllen :)