Dear Diary,

The last week has been... hard. 

Turns out my brother is not who I thought he was. My new friends have been really nice to me and although Jace can be cocky and a jerk at times, there are some times when he's actually quite nice. Luke feels like the father I never had and Isabelle is like a sister. But, I don't think me and her brother Alec are going to see eye to eye any time soon.

They've been asking me for my brother's location, which I am unable to say due to the fact that I have no idea where he is or what he's planning.

I think a part of me still wishes I was with Jonathan. I mean he's my brother and although there is plenty of evidence I've never seen him kill, other than the Shadowhunter in Paris, but that may have been a simple misunderstanding - at least I hope it was.

Though the creepiest thing happened to me last night and it's left me a little shaken-

Clary looked up at the sound of knocking on her door. "Come in." Her little voice echoed in the empty room.

"Hey kiddo!" She smiled at Luke's familiar deep voice. "What you up to?"

"Hey Luke, I was just doing a little bit of writing. Can I help you with something?" She beamed, closing her journal.

"Yeah actually, I was going to the markets that are on nearby. Just wondering if you wanted to come?" He offered.

"Actually, I think I might stay indoors today." She shrugged.

"Alright, Izzy's in the kitchen if you need her." She nodded, fiddling with her arm. "Everything okay?" He must have noticed how uncomfortable she was.

"Never better." After he'd left her eye flickered down to her arm. Words, cut into her arm. A message. Written by someone who she still had a small place for in her heart. A message from Jonathan. Three words. 'I miss you'.

Clary ran into the living room of the apartment that she and her brother had travelled in so many times before she was taken from him, and jumped to the side of the armchair her brother had been sitting in. "Did you miss me?"

"I told you I did." He smiled.

"Next time you want to send a message like that, use e-mail." She replied, obviously a bit annoyed by his tactics.

"I'll admit it was a little dramatic. But it got your attention, didn't it?" She got up and looked at the fireplace.

Being with those Shadowhunters and having to play the scared little girl, it got real old, real fast. I missed our life together." She fiddled with her fingers, a thing she would usually do every now and then.

"Why didn't you contact and return to me sooner?" He asked slowly his eyes following her.

"Because I felt like it." She smiled leaning down against the armchair again. "We Morgensterns don't like being told what to do." There was a small unawkward silence.

"That's the first time you've called yourself a Morgenstern." Jonathan leaned forward and smile touching his lips.

"It's who I am, isn't it?" She looked up at him, a small tinge of cheekiness and coolness in her eyes. Jonathan sat forward so that she could feel his warm breath as well as the warmth of the fire on her face. "What do you say we take this family reunion on the road? We go to Madrid. Drink Tempranillo and visit the Prado."

NOw she too was leaning forward with interest. "I would love to visit the Prado! You know, I've always wanted to see those Botch paintings in person."

Jonathans face shifted into one of confusion and anger. "Botch?" Clary tilted her head confused. "Botch paintings?" He continued, "it's Bosch, you idiot. Clary would never get that wrong."

Clary rolled her eyes and gave a short groan. "Whatever, I was close enough."

Jonathan's hand whipped out grabbing her by her hair, making the small child gasp in surprise and fear. "Tell me, are all Seelie Nymphs lent out by the Bone Chandelier so boneheaded?" He threw her to the ground and the shape of the girl wavered and soon she shifted into the form of an older woman. About in her late twenties, with short frizzy hair, muddy green eyes and pointed ears. A faerie. 

"It's not my fault the words are lame." She spoke, but quickly regretted her words and on the ground shuffled back slightly as he stood up towering over her, his eyes full of rage and disgust. "Stick to the script. And never mouth off to me." He hissed.

"It won't happen again. I promise." He moved to the open balcony, looking out at the vast city. "I'll be better." She echoed as he went.

"Don't bother. I was foolish to ever think I could be satisfied with a fake." He rubbed his head, before looking up with a short smile. "I suppose I'm just going have to get my hands on the real thing." He grinned.