Chapter 73 – Passion

--- 3 days before the start of the war. ---

The forest behind the Lightwoods' estate had never seemed particularly large to me. In fact, it wasn't, as it was within the city walls of Alicante and there was no room for acres of forest. Actually, you could walk through it in less than five minutes, but the tall, thick trees were so close together that you didn't have to go deep into it to feel like you were far away from the city that actually surrounded it.

This feeling intensified at night, when the sun had long since disappeared from the horizon and you could barely see your own hand in front of your nose, except for the few stars that were visible. And that was even though we hadn't walked more than ten meters into the forest.

Jace set his lantern down next to a mossy tree stump and rubbed his hands together as if he were wiping dirt from his fingers. I took a few steps in the opposite direction and hung my own witch-light on a bare branch at head height that looked sturdy enough not to break under the weight of the lantern.

Our lights were strong enough to drive the darkness of the night away a few meters. The first insects that were still active in the low temperatures began to swarm around my light. Their miniature wings whirred while their bodies struck dully against the glass that secured the witch-light in the lamp again and again.

I turned away from the lantern to face Jace. The small clearing we were in was lined with short ferns and grasses, their late-winter dampness settling on the leather of my boots as I walked toward him. I moved smoothly, with the elegant and precise gait that had been drilled into me for as long as I could remember. One or two branches broke under the weight of my body, and I could feel the wood digging into the soles of my shoes before giving way to their pressure.

In front of me, Jace rolled his shoulders, shaking off the past day from his posture. It had been a long day. And although we had survived most of it, it was not quite over yet. The time for relaxation was still a long way off.

The Clave meeting that had taken place in the early hours of the morning had done little to alleviate the exhaustion that was slowly creeping through my limbs. We had spent most of our time in the open spaces between the city and the border, working alongside Luke and Isabelle to ensure that the Shadowworlders were well prepared for the coming battle. And although we had done our best, I didn't feel like we had accomplished enough.

Many of the Shadowworlders, especially the werewolves, were quick and adaptable learners. Many of them were already battle-hardened. Many had been present at my last training session, with the exception of most of the warlocks. The results had been clearly visible, you could see how much effort they had all put into our instructions and directions.

Despite everything, it meant nothing. Progress was most noticeable at the beginning of training. No amount of weekly training on fighting techniques and demon weaknesses could make up for years of tuition. I wasn't kidding myself, and neither was Luke, whose worries were becoming more and more evident with each passing day. After all, he had once been a Shadowhunter. He knew how hard the training of the Nephilim children was, how much time it took. And even after you came of age, you had to keep working on yourself so as not to lose strength or fall behind.

The werewolves might have their superhuman strength, the vampires their speed, and the warlocks their magic, but they all lacked the practice of using these skills outside of arguments or territorial disputes on a real battlefield. When your own clan or pack didn't have your back. When you were outnumbered two to one or worse.

I didn't know how Jonathan and my father would proceed. Whether they would send out all the demons at once or in waves. With an infinite army, did it even matter? Either they would overrun us immediately or they would play with us, perhaps giving us hope in a first wave of attacks, only to crush us in the second or third.

It would be easier to keep control and keep an overview in a wave attack. My contact with Mellartach the day before yesterday had at least revealed to me that the sword seemed to wield a certain power of its own. It wasn't as simple as simply swinging the Angel Blade and summoning the demons. Jonathan would need concentration and self-control to be able to resist this power and not be consumed by it.

There were so many things we didn't know. The few facts that were clear, however, strengthened my focus; my approach. As long as the fighters could hold off the demons long enough, we might have a chance.

Too many different possibilities and strategies were swirling around in my head. Would they attack the city first and then demand Raziel's wish? Would they dare to summon Raziel first – with the possibility that the Angel Blade might lose its demonic functions?

Basically, I thought it was more important to take out Jonathan first to keep the demons away from Alicante. Without the sword, they would no longer be able to make the wish. But how were we supposed to get behind enemy lines? How could we get close enough to Jonathan to have a real chance of getting the sword? He could simply set his demons on us. A direct attack was therefore out of the question, unless we came during the day when the demons couldn't appear. We would have to be treacherous and deceitful, perhaps a distraction. And then there was always my father. He certainly wouldn't stand by while I tried to wrest the sword from him again ...

I was abruptly pulled from my speculations as a pair of strong arms wrapped around my middle. A shallow sigh escaped my throat as I blinked at Jace, who now occupied my entire field of vision. "Where have you gone again?" he murmured, both thoughtful and amused. His head was bent down towards me and his nose brushed the crook of my neck while his hair tickled my cheek.

As discreetly as possible, I breathed in the cool oxygen deeply through my nose and let its scent lull me. If one didn't keep moving, the chilly air bit into one's skin. You could practically smell the cold, but it was pushed into the background by the damp notes of the numerous grasses around us.

"I can't switch off," I replied curtly, the fog in my brain not yet completely overcome.

Jace leaned away from me and flicked his fingers in front of my face a few times, as if that would make me focus. I rolled my eyes and raised my eyebrows meaningfully. "You wanted to come here," he reminded me.

His cold fingertips left a throbbing sensation on my skin as he guided them down my neck. Thanks to the winter coat, there was no further to explore. Nevertheless, it was enough to make a pleasant warmth grow inside me. I leaned towards Jace and again he lowered his face to mine. Our gazes were locked as he slid past me, his lips curling into a smirk as he pushed my hair aside to press against my ear. "If you're too tired ..."

How I wanted to give in to exhaustion. How I wanted to bury myself beneath the safety of my bed's down, with his body beside me, holding me as I slipped away into sleep ... My mouth opened ever so slightly, a longing sigh on my tongue.

All of them, whispered the demon in the farthest corner of my memory.

I was abruptly catapulted back to the present. All heat fled from my veins, leaving behind a goosebump-inducing echo of emptiness – an echo of the fear that had taken over my body this morning. Weaker and less difficult to bear, but a wake-up call nonetheless.

Jace, who must have noticed my change in mood, froze in front of me. His first instinct was to pull me closer to him and raise his head in an act of alertness. I could almost feel his eyes boring beyond the witch-light into the dark forest. Just like after my nightmare when he had found me crawling on the bedroom floor, he would find no danger present. The threat that tormented me and kept me awake and spurred me on was all in my head. For now.

"No," I said, my voice firm and focused. I widened my eyes, hoping to escape the images from my dream. "The sooner you can control your power, the better. We'll be doing research tomorrow. We need progress, today."

Jace, not missing the desperate tone in my voice, tilted his chin in a slight nod. He removed his arms from my back and as he moved away from me, his lips brushed from my ear to my cheek in a feather-light motion. "Your wish is my command."

The way he said it, he seemed to be completely serious. Only in the back of my mind, was I concerned about the fact that my mouth was hanging open because he had taken me by surprise, and I didn't know how to respond.

Jace's golden irises glowed down at me, but he took a step back to separate our bodies. I immediately missed the feeling of him against me. "Have you thought of a plan to bring out my power?" he asked, referring to our task. His tone, however, did not sound entirely focused. "Because I don't know how to do that."

In a hasty gesture, I snapped my mouth shut and nodded a little too intensely. "I've been thinking about it and I keep thinking about the incident with Kadir at training," I began, burying my hands in the padded pockets of my coat. "He goaded you until you lost control of your emotions. Do you remember how you felt?"

Jace's expression darkened and I could see the memory of that day flash across his face. Kadir, who had been tasked by the Inquisitor with determining the extent of our angel powers, had used his position to vent his hatred of my family. In a training fight, he had incited Jace to the point where he had lost himself in anger at my father and had almost strangled me. His angel power had emerged and given him a strength that I had been powerless against.

A broken sigh escaped Jace and he tugged at his hair in an effort as he thought back. "I remember the anger Kadir's words made me feel. The hatred I felt for you." The corners of his mouth turned down in apology, but I just waved him off and asked him to continue. "The anger made it so easy to justify my actions. Everything felt so ... legitimate. Like everything I felt was justified and that spurred me on."

"I remember that at first you were just as confused as I was. Then you slowly started to get upset. But I wasn't sure if you were angry at Kadir or me. As an outsider, it seemed to me as if the angelic power had taken control at some point ... Your consciousness was somehow not fully present. You no longer reacted to any of us. Your gaze was frightening. Like tunnel vision. I kicked you and you didn't even react, you just carried on ..."

It was clear that Jace didn't like the level of detail on this topic. He drew his head back and rolled his shoulders once more, as if he wanted to throw something off of him – a feeling perhaps. He took his time before clearing his throat and responding to my observations. "I think it had that effect because it was my first time. I just felt this wave run through my body, thought it was my own feelings and so I let it completely overwhelm me. The second time I knew what it was. Even though I can't explain how I managed to control the power."

"Second time?" Sometimes I felt the sudden surge of heat coming from him, but never had it been like during the training. At least I didn't seem to have been present at that time.

The gold in Jace's eyes hardened. At the same time, for a moment, a look of unease seemed to overwhelm his features, reminding me of his expression outside the Ashdowns' country house when we had faced each other for the first time since my imprisonment. "After we found Malachi's name in the alley, my grandmother interrogated him at the Gard." His thoughtful, irritated gaze fixed on a spot to his right – somewhere in the darkness. "I knew that with every second of his silence we were losing precious time to find you again. The anger at Malachi and my concern for you built up until I burst into the interrogation room and somewhat ... unconventionally got him to spit out your whereabouts."

"You never told me about that!" I automatically complained.

He just shrugged. "There wasn't exactly a moment to work that into a normal conversation."

"What makes you think it was the angel power? Maybe you were just very angry."

"There was this heat," Jace explained. His fingers clenched into fists again, then relaxed seconds later. "It was there the first time too. You felt it, didn't you?" I confirmed his observation and he continued. "My senses suddenly seemed so much clearer. I could feel the others' fear as my body heat hit them. I could hear Malachi's muscles stiffen."

"How did you manage to control it?"

"This wave caught me off guard the first time. The second time, it was easier to distinguish this fire from my own anger. It was ..." He struggled to find the right words and stared up at the sky with his eyes wide open. His Adam's apple trembled with every word he spoke. "... like after applying a rune, when the first surge of energy runs through your body. Only this time, it opens a hole in your stomach and wants to suck you up from the inside. That sounds idiotic."

"No!" I immediately interjected. "I know the feeling. That's how I feel when I create my runes. Only I have to let myself be drawn into the vortex in order to be able to fully immerse myself."

"For me it's the other way around. The further I let myself fall, the less control I have. It's like a focus in my center that you have during deep meditation. You suddenly feel your body much more intensely, you are suddenly hyper-aware of all movements and processes. But only as long as you don't open the hole completely."

"So you would know how to control the power?"

The movement that Jace made with his head was indecipherable. It looked like a half nod and a half shake of the head at the same time. "Possibly." There was a shaky pause. "Probably. That's not the main problem. I don't know how to summon the power. So far it has always crept in on its own and I have not been able to actively summon it myself."

"Then we'll work on that first," I decided and began to walk in circles around the small clearing. Jace remained where he was, not following me with his eyes – he continued to look into the distance of the light. His tense posture made me think back to the last few months; to the time of the transition, when his diminishing hatred for me had cut a rift in him. "You have to find a connection to the power. A connection that you can awaken within yourself at will."

"And how's that supposed to work?" The defiance was unmistakable in his voice. I didn't need to see his face, just the arms folded behind his back, to know that he was resisting this.

My feet stopped, digging into the overgrown ground. It was like scales falling from my eyes and when it happened, I wondered how I could have misinterpreted all his previous signals. I was surprised to realize that he didn't see the angelic power as a gift. He didn't want to learn to control it. From his point of view, the heavenly blood in his veins was not a blessing. I didn't understand why.

"You have to understand how it works," I breathed into the faint gust of wind, letting it carry the words to Jace. He stiffened in response. "Don't you remember the riddle Ithuriel gave me? How we sat in the garden and pondered how this gift worked? The first few times, I drew based on my feelings alone. Instinctively."

Jace whirled around to face me angrily and explosively raised his hand, his index finger pointed accusingly at me. "Yeah, exactly, it would be nice if it were that easy! At least you had something to work with. Ithuriel took you up to damned heaven to tell you about the riddle in person. As if those were the same conditions," he snorted, dripping with derision. "Except for the vision beneath the Wayland estate that he even showed Adam, he never contacted me once! So excuse me if I don't understand how this damn power works, Clary."

Caught off guard by his expression, my senses demanded that I take a few steps back from him. But backing away was not an option with Jace. That would have only shown him that his words had hit me. Words that sounded suspiciously like accusations. Instead, I put my features into a passive mask and raised my chin defensively. A reply was already on the tip of my tongue, but even as my lips parted, an idea flashed through me that made me change course after a few seconds of pause.

"Perhaps Ithuriel didn't want to waste time on someone without pure intentions," I retorted sharply, with the full arrogance of my existence. Because I was a Morgenstern; because I simply could.

For a moment, Jace's emotions slipped and his anger fell away as he lost track, stunned by my comment. I didn't give in, I pierced him with my stare – demanding and waiting. The anger I knew so well boiled up in him seconds later. His entire posture transformed as Jace transformed before my eyes into a version of himself I thought was long gone. I had to try hard to suppress my smile, knowing his answer would hurt me. But I couldn't lose sight of the bigger picture. No, I couldn't let myself be consumed like he did.

"Pure intentions?" Jace hurled at me, but his voice hadn't completely changed yet. He had to put my reaction down to his own outburst. "All I've ever had in mind was protecting our world. I've trained my entire life to protect this world from demons. What have you been doing in the meantime? What have you been preparing for most of your life? Not that I hold it against you. You're one of us now. But it doesn't change the years you've spent pursuing the wrong goals."

"I didn't know what I was doing. I was a child. I took orders from the person who should want to protect me more than anything in the world. You, however, were only incited by your grandmother's gibberish and her desire for revenge. I bet she would have found a way to hate my father even without her dead son."

And I had done it. I forced my muscles to remain in their emotionless state, not daring to move, for I would surely have given away my farce in some way. Oh, and how profoundly evil it was. My reserved, indifferent voice had conveyed my arrogance perfectly. The fact that it remained no louder than a whisper made it all the more impressive. I was almost proud of my engineering.

Although I had been working towards it, it pained me to play him like that. None of what I said was sincere. Of course not. Never.

Something in the frozen gold of his irises shattered and I could almost hear the sound of ice breaking. When Jace tilted his head threateningly slowly, I couldn't help but think of Jonathan. That was the moment I realized that the angelic power had him completely under its control; that he hadn't managed to avoid falling into that hole.

"But my grandmother doesn't just hate your father," Jace chuckled darkly. Chuckled. This was going to get really bad ... Suddenly I wondered if I hadn't miscalculated fatally. I took a deep, shaky breath and braced myself for the worst. "That's my father you're talking about." Jace exploded in front of me like a bomb. He rushed towards me and in the blink of an eye his face was millimeters from mine. His warm breath hit my skin in gasps as he towered over me – muscular and angry and beautiful like one of the ancient sculptures from days long gone when the Nephilim had still bothered to pay homage to their angels.

This was the moment I had been waiting for. I had Jace where I wanted him. I didn't want to subject him to any more pain – probably both mental and physical. His wide, charged eyes bored into mine, but I didn't look away. Even though he put every spark of the smoldering energy in his veins into that look. Like a concentrated beam that was supposed to burn through me.

I raised my hands and placed them on Jace's shoulders. At least I tried. My gesture hadn't been sudden or forceful, but he must have taken it differently. Hostile, I realized as I saw his face twist in response. He moved faster than I did. His arms shot up to mine and he dug his fingers into the sleeves of my coat. My heart could hardly beat, it was all happening so fast. I had only looked him in the eyes and then I was staggering backwards – being pushed back by him – until my back hit a tree trunk with such a jolt that the back of my head hit it.

My eyes widened of their own accord. Not really out of fear, since I had wanted to upset him. More out of surprise, because I hadn't expected this kind of strong response. His fingers had left my wrists and were now gripping my shoulders, keeping me immobile. His thumbs pressed against my collar bones, keeping me in place.

I counted to three in my head and then tilted my head back to look at Jace. That wasn't him. At least not completely. He would never hurt me. "Jace," I said as calmly as I could. I was relieved that my tone was orderly and not influenced by the increasing pulse that was beginning to pound in my ears. "Jace, do you feel the power? Do you feel the hole you just spoke of?"

The Jace from the training hall, the one who had thrown me halfway across the room and choked me, would not have reacted. He would have continued with whatever was on his mind at the moment. Even though this Jace had apparently fallen into the hole, he still seemed to have some degree of self-control. His grip on my shoulders didn't loosen, but he blinked, and deep in his eyes, mostly clouded by all the anger, I saw a seed of confusion.

"You spoke of the heat that accompanies the power," I reminded him gently and calmly. We must have looked completely insane. The anger with which he pushed me against the tree trunk and the calmness with which I faced him.

The heat surrounded us as palpably as an object. Something you could have touched if it had been visible. It radiated out of him as if he were an imploding star that would drag everything in its immediate vicinity to its death. Like the heat of an oversized candle that expanded in a circle in all directions and warmed the skin almost painfully the closer you held the inside of your hand to the flame. That's how it felt to be near him. The heat made it hard to breathe and even through my coat his skin was almost unbearable.

"You said it felt like a hole in your stomach. Remember?"

Jace blinked again, his eyelids fluttering as frantically as the wings of a hummingbird. And then the look of hatred suddenly vanished from his eyes – the gold of his irises melted away, breaking through the fog of angelic power.

"No!" came out of my mouth in a rush. This time, when I raised my arm, he let me. The fingers of my right hand wrapped around his cheek, framing his perfect face, whose range of emotions gradually shifted from anger to shock. I almost burned myself on him. "Hold on to the power!" My fingers slid over his neck and dug into his neck so intensely that I could feel his skin under my nails. He didn't even flinch. "You have to hold on to it. Control it. Decide how much you want to be under its influence!"

Jace's jaw stiffened as if in pain. He squeezed his eyes shut in an attempt to concentrate. Now, only now, he began to sweat. Like in the haze of a hot steam cloud, a thin layer of moisture formed on his pores. "It's ... not ... that simple," he said through clenched teeth, and his tone didn't really sound like himself. Instead, it was ... deeper. Darker. All-encompassing.

A dozen thoughts raced through my mind, searching for something that might help him. "Go to the edge of the hole," I murmured, my eyes now closed. I recalled my own strength, tried to put into words how I used it. "You have to grab it as if it were an object you could feel between your fingers."

An abrupt sigh escaped Jace, a gust of air escaping him as if he had been holding it. When his eyes met mine this time, every trace of strength had vanished from his features. "That wasn't helpful," he replied in frustration, his hand clenching into a fist at my neck. He was disappointed in himself. "I felt it, but your behavior threw me off too much. I was distracted."

"Maybe we should try a different method," I suggested quietly, but I could see the exhaustion on his face.

Jace was already leaning halfway against my body. His arm shot up to support his weight against the trunk. "I lost control." His voice echoed with dissatisfaction and shame. "I am sorry that I attacked you like that. I ..."

My fingers untangled his sweat-stuck hair, grasped the back of his head and pulled him towards me until his forehead touched mine. Now that the heat had left his body as suddenly as it had come, the wetness made him shiver. "I provoked it."

Jace shook his head vehemently. "That shouldn't have happened. I should have known better," he whispered, more to himself than to me. "That was me, Clary. I attacked you. I pushed you back and shoved you. The power doesn't make me a different person. I still control what I do. Even if it's nothing more than instinct so far."

"You would never have done anything serious to me, Jace." He sounded so desperate that I pulled him even closer to me. That raw, vulnerable nuance of his voice made my muscles clench in a need for comfort. "Look how easy it was to free you from the power. Under Kadir's watch, you didn't even respond to our calls. And I didn't even have to raise my voice."

My statement got him thinking. After what seemed like an eternity in his arms, he finally nodded his chin, barely perceptibly. "I can't really put it into words ... When you're in that state, it's so easy to block out the rest of the world. Once that instinct takes over ... it's difficult to break out." The attraction of his large, round pupils had me under its spell. He sounded stunned as he added the last sentence in a whisper. "Yet your voice was clear as glass, as if there were no barriers for it to break through."

"You're getting better." The fingertips of my cold hand traced invisible lines along his cheekbones, brushed against his parched, chapped lips, which even now had the curved, full grace of angels. "All we need is more time."

A movement flickered across Jace's features, mirrored in the reflection of his irises. Was it grief? Fear? After a moment of uncertainty, he seemed to come to a silent agreement with himself that hardened the muscles of his face in a sure resolve. There was a decision on them that I didn't understand. For a split second, his attention flicked down to my lips.

"We'll try again tomorrow," was all Jace said before pressing his mouth to mine in an inevitable movement.

In an instant, the creeping coldness was driven out of my limbs. The pleasant feeling that followed made me gasp into him. One hand that was already wrapped around his neck was quickly joined by my other. Jace leaned over and against me at the same time, seeming to frame me from all sides. Then he moved his arms, which had found their way to my hips during our conversation.

For a heartbeat, I didn't know what was happening to me as I lost my footing. It happened too fast. In the heat of our passion, my brain shifted its focus away from the senses that weren't dedicated to him. A split second later, I felt Jace's fingers dig into the undersides of my thighs. My legs instinctively opened to make room for him. And then he pushed me back against the tree, his arms supporting my body.

His lips forced mine apart in a demanding gesture and when his tongue ran against my skin I moaned. In response I tightened my legs around his waist, forcing him to come closer, closer, closer.

In front of me, above me, below me — I couldn't say for sure — Jace answered my moan with one of his own. A rough, muffled sound that made my hair stand on end and melt the warmth in my core. That feeling of losing my head and slipping into another galaxy spread through my veins like wildfire. Unstoppable and capable of eradicating any other emotion.

The duration of the kiss seemed to stretch on immeasurably. An eternity in which I wanted to stay forever. From which I never wanted to break free.

Jace, Jace, Jace. The only clear thought in my brain. Everything else was controlled by my subconscious. I did nothing but let myself go; after a long, long time, more than content to finally let it take over.

"Clary," he breathed against my neck, his lips caressing it. His tongue left me unable to respond. His fresh yet incendiary scent, wrapped around me like a second skin, made me throw my head back.

All I could think was that he sounded the way I felt. Jace pressed himself against my curves, enveloping me with his own, filling the void – turning two into one. And in an instant, my thoughts slipped away once again as they were drawn into the depths of his tender devotion.

-

Hi guys!

This week, I finally have more time again! I submitted my Bachelor's thesis and now I'm free until September. The summer can come! :D

Did you like this chapter? Let me know! :)

Skyllen