The Angel-Blooded One (Shadowhunters ff)

5 - The Search

Clary

A frantic pounding on the door shattered the remnants of Clary's sleep. Hours earlier than planned, Aria materialized in the doorway, a flurry of concern etched on her face. Apparently, 'Eric', the charmer from last night, had a sudden case of amnesia, claiming to have woken up in his own bed with no memory of the night before.

"If I ever see him again, he'll be wishing he had amnesia for real," Aria fumed, pouring herself a cup of tea. "Can't believe he'd just ghost you like that."

Witnessing Aria's protectiveness, Clary got a warm feeling in her chest chest. At least someone cared. Taking a deep breath, she decided to confide in Aria, despite the lingering fear of sounding utterly insane.

"Can I ask a favor?"

Aria's head snapped up, her fiery gaze filled with concern. "Anything," she replied without a beat.

Clary hesitated. Telling about her date with a monster who imitated Eric sounded crazy even to her. Hence, she opted for a simpler approach, focusing on the lingering question mark.

"It's about my grandfather," she began. "I always thought he was dead, but something...makes me think he might be alive."

Aria's brow furrowed. "Why do you believe that?"

Clary recounted her late-night internet search – Oskar Morgenstern, the esteemed economist. Dead in 1989, a full two years before she was born. Public records only revealed details about his academic career, a dead end that offered no clues about his personal life. Yet, a nagging suspicion wouldn't be silenced.

"There's nothing online about relatives," Clary continued, her voice tight with frustration. "No wife, parents, children... it's like he just vanished."

Warmth bloomed in Aria's eyes. "You know," she chuckled softly, "you're quite the detective when you get going." The teasing softened into a reassuring smile. "Why don't we find out for sure?"

Hope, a fragile ember, flickered in Clary's chest. "You know how?"

Aria's smile turned enigmatic. "I know where to start."

***

Izzy

The lifeless Ravener demon on the ground had felt wrong. By the time Izzy reached the grim alleyway, the creature was dissolving into black ash, its final gurgle echoing eerily in the night. Glancing upwards, she scanned the rooftop bathed in the pale moonlight, the Ravener's point of origin. A single Ravener – nothing a seasoned Shadowhunter couldn't handle. Raveners, with their limited intelligence, were only truly threatening in numbers. Still, the scene felt unnerving. What had happened on that roof to send the demon plummeting to a messy end?

More importantly, what was a lone Ravener doing perched on a Brooklyn apartment building in the first place? Recent demonic activity in the area had been minimal, and Raveners rarely ventured out alone. Frustration gnawed at Izzy when she tried to tell Jace about the encounter, only to be met with dismissal. His night, predictably, had devolved into a chaotic mess – an alcohol-fueled brawl with vampires behind Hunter's Moon that Simon, thank the angel, had managed to break up before things got truly out of hand. Jace's injuries were thankfully minor – a throbbing headache and a black eye, nothing an Iratze couldn't easily fix.

Izzy, however, had kept the demon's location to herself. No need to further disorient the already volatile Jace. Perhaps it was just a bizarre coincidence, a thought she quickly dismissed. A knot of dread tightened in her stomach. What if there was no coincidence here? What if the demon had been targeting Clary?

Glancing around to ensure nobody was watching, Izzy reached into a hidden holster strapped to her left thigh. A familiar weight settled in her hand – one of Clary's silver kindjal blades, left behind at the Institute.

Anxiety gnawed at Izzy as she tracked Clary to the bustling heart of Washington Square Park. Taking cover behind a towering oak, she activated a hearing rune, justifying it to herself as a necessary precaution. Clary, oblivious, was deep in conversation with Aria, their heads bent close. Izzy strained to hear their hushed words, convincing herself it wasn't eavesdropping.

A sliver of conversation drifted across the park. "...Morgenstern, but yours is Fray."

The name sent a jolt of ice through Izzy. It had to be a mistake. Her heart hammered against her ribs as she inched closer, desperate to catch every word. There was no way...

"I don't know," Clary replied, her tone strained. "But Clarissa Morgenstern... it feels familiar, like something I've heard before."

"Well," Aria continued, "if he's still alive, you can ask him yourself."

Izzy froze, the world around her fading to white noise. The conversation teetered on the edge of the impossible. How could Clary know the name Morgenstern? How could she remember being called Clarissa? And alive? Who were they talking about being alive?

A horrifying realization dawned on her. The only Morgensterns that mattered were Valentine and Jonathan. Dead. Both by Clary's hand. But Valentine...he used Clarissa for Clary. Could he be alive?

By the time Izzy regained her composure, Clary and Aria were gone, vanished into the imposing structure of the NYU Center of Law, Economics and Organization.

Torn between following them and seeking answers, Izzy sent a frantic message to Alec. Surely, the Clave Inquisitor would know if Valentine was alive.

A moment later, Alec's reply arrived. "Of course Valentine is dead. Everything alright?"

Izzy stared at the message, doubts swirling in a tempest within her. Maybe it was just a coincidence. Maybe it was a good sign – some of Clary's memories finally resurfacing. But she wouldn't tell anyone. No need to raise false hope. Simon, perhaps, he could be trusted with the unsettling discovery. But Jace... the mere thought of rekindling his hope with this sliver of a possibility was unbearable. He couldn't know.