"We have to go!" Clary's door banged open and Jonathan walked in waking her up by shaking her frantically. She groaned slightly and sat up to see a flash of pale skin and red hair disappear from her room and into the hallway. After discarding her old clothes she threw on a loose white t-shirt and loose jeans that were only a little too big for her. She walked down the hallway until suddenly it felt as if the apartment was getting shaken left and right, the lights flashed on and off and Clary recognised it as the house moving again. She stumbled in the living/dining room to see Jonathan standing in the centre, his eyes completely black and his face a mix of anger and worry. When he'd finished Clary noticed his clothes were in ruins and covered in blood, she hated to guess whose it was. "What's going on?"

"We cannot stay in Paris."

"Why not?" Her brother got up his body was untouched and no scars could be seen, meaning the blood wasn't his.

"Turns the Shadowhunters were able to find us here, I ran into them while I was out."

"Are they-" Clary began, her voice caught in her throat.

"They're not dead; yet!" His voice was filled with hatred. He moved over to her and put his hand on her cheek, making her look into his stunning greenish-blue eye's. "I promised you that they would never hurt you, so you have to understand why we have to leave." Clary nodded and then walked towards the window, pulling the curtains aside, only to see that they were back in Siberia. "What are we doing back here?" The feeling over her brother standing so close behind her that she could feel his breath on her neck made her tense.

"It's only for one night we will be moving tomorrow, I just need to find the right place." As he walked away Clary followed him to the kitchen, where she grabbed a small packet of chips that were placed in the pantry. "I was able to grab some art stuff while we were in Paris." He pointed to a white bag that was on the kitchen table and she nearly ran to it begging for the familiar feel of a paintbrush in between her fingers. There were paint brushes, pencils, paper, even some charcoal, two medium-sized canvas' rested against the table. "Do you like them?"

"These are great!" For a second Clary nearly forgot where she was, who she was with and what had happened the previous day. All she felt was excited and unbreakable itch to sketch something; anything! "Thank you." Jonathan watched as his little sister's hand ran over the smooth paper.

"You can use it now; if you want?" He stood there smiling at her as she looked up at him, a bright smile on her young and beautiful face. The little girl began to unwrap and set out the items neatly into piles before sitting down and letting her hand slide naturally over the paper, drawing had always been like breathing to her and right now her mind was full of things to draw. The streets of Paris and all of its architecture, the foods she'd tried and smelled, the people that had walked by just living their peaceful lives. As she began to draw the bridge on which she and Jonathan had walked over she could sense her brother standing there, just watching her silently. She glanced up from underneath her fire red hair, to see him looking at her, his expression unreadable, but the way he looked at her like she belonged to him, and him only was unsettling, yet a stab of guilt ran through her stomach.

"Would you like to join me?" Clary mumbled silently, trying to smile at him. He grinned back showing off his perfectly white teeth that seemed to glow next to his red hair, that was just a shade darker than her own. Jonathan walked over to the table and slowly sat in the chair opposite his sister and saw her rip off a piece of paper from her new art book. He'd loved the way she had smiled at it when she'd first seen it and how she had smiled at him as if she truly accepted and loved him. He lifted one of the pencils from the pile clary had created and looked down at his paper, every now and then glancing at his sisters who certainly knew what she was doing.

It had been a good five minutes until Clary realised Jonathan had been staring at his paper the whole time, pencil in hand. "Oh my God," Jonathan looked up at his sister's small gasp, a worried look on his face. "You've never drawn anything before; have you?" He didn't know what to say back. "Didn't your dad let you draw?" Jonathan shook his head slightly. Each time Clary would suggest an activity Jonathan would silently shake his head. "Don't you do anything other than kill demons?"

"We are Shadowhunters, it is what we are born and trained to do." His eye's looked deeply into her own.

"Yeah, but there are other things you can do." As she spoke her hand continued to sketch, she looked at him for a while unable to decipher whether she felt sorry for him or revolted at his father who'd, one injected him with demon blood and then not let him be a kid. "Look, how about we make a deal?" This made him look up, a questioning look in his eye's. "I know nothing of the Shadow world, so how about this. You teach me to be a Shadowhunter."

"And what will you do for me?" Clary set down her pencil and gave him a half grin.

"I'm going to teach you how to have a little fun."