Spencer stepped over the debris to reach the wall. She began pulling out her daggers, one by one, and slid them back into their places.
Jace stumbled over to Alec, dropping to his side. Alec's breathing was still shallow, but at least he was breathing—as was Isabelle, which was a relief. Clary and Simon had gone to her.
"Clary!" Jace called. "Bring my stele."
Spencer, yanking the last dagger from the wall, turned to see Clary stepping around Isabelle, still unconscious, to get to Jace and Alec, who had opened his eyes.
"Did...did I kill it?" he asked, triumph in his eyes.
"You—" Jace started, but Clary cut him off.
"Yes," she said. "It's dead."
Alec laughed then, blood spraying from his mouth. Spencer looked away. She saw Isabelle's stele sticking out of her pocket and took it, handing it to Jace.
"Don't," Jace said, and his voice was tender, concerned. "Hold still, just hold still."
"Do what you have to," Alec murmured back.
There was a sound like tearing fabric. Spencer crept over to see that Jace had torn Alec's shirt open, baring Alec's white chest. A series of claw marks, steadily blackening, raked over his stomach.
Jace moved the stele across Alec's skin, leaving dark lines in its wake, but they faded immediately.
"Damn it," Jace said, tossing away his stele.
"What is it? What's wrong?" Spencer tried to contain her worry and terror.
"It cut him with its talons. There's demon poison in him," Jace said. "The Marks can't work. Alec," he said, touching Alec's face. "Can you hear me?"
Alec didn't respond, or move. He simply lay there, looking dead.
"What about Izzy?" Simon asked him. "Will she be okay?"
Jace seemed to notice Isabelle then, lying on the floor near Alec. "Damn it," he said again. Clary picked up his stele and handed it to him. This time, when he drew upon Isabelle's skin, the Mark remained, and she began to stir.
"We need to take them to the hospital," Simon said worriedly. "There's a Methodist down on Seventh Avenue—"
"I don't think mundane doctors will know what to do," Spencer said gently. She looked to Jace. "The Institute's our best bet, right? Hodge can heal them?" Jace nodded.
A thump came from upstairs. The four of them slowly looked up. Dust rained from the ceiling.
"Jace," Spencer said, "what's up there?"
"Something not ideal at this very moment," he replied.
"Would it, by any chance, be the Forsaken you mentioned earlier?"
"More than likely."
"The ones you said wouldn't bother us unless we tried to go upstairs?"
"I did say might," he said, still looking up. Something slammed into a wall, and loud, slow footsteps came from the top of the stairwell.
"Okay, then," Spencer said. "We'd better get out of here. Clary, clear the way and open the doors. Simon, you carry Isabelle while Jace and I get Alec."
They all nodded, Simon scooping up Isabelle while Clary kicked away wood and bricks and anything he might trip on.
Spencer and Jace each placed their hands under Alec's shoulders. "On three," Jace said. "One, two, three."
They lifted, Spencer almost buckling beneath Alec's heavy form. "My goodness," she wheezed. "What have you guys been feeding him?"
"Definitely not Isabelle's cooking," Jace replied. "He would've been dead years ago if we had."
They struggled over to the doorway, then tried not trip over the uneven path. They reached the van, where Clary was helping Simon lay Isabelle down in the back. Together, the four of them managed to get Alec into the van, next to Isabelle.
Simon ran around to the driver's side and got in. Clary jumped into the front passenger seat next to him, while Spencer and Jace remained with the Lightwood siblings.
"Drive fast, mundane," Jace said to Simon, his voice laced with panic. "Drive like hell was following you."
Spencer looked down at Isabelle, who hadn't quite managed to open her eyes yet, but she was definitely waking up.
Unlike Alec, who seemed to be worsening. His blood began to run across the floor of the van, and Spencer grabbed a blanket to soak it up.
Suddenly, Isabelle gasped. Eyes open, her head whipped from side to side, until her gaze focused on Alec. "Alec!" she cried, sitting up. Spencer fell backwards in surprise. "Jace, what—will he—"
"I don't know, Iz," was all he said. Isabelle's eyes filled with tears. "We're heading for the Institute now."
"How far away are we?" she asked, looking towards the front of the van.
"About ten minutes," Clary answered from the front. "Simon's driving as fast as he can."
"I know," she replied. "Simon—I saw what you did, with the skylight. You moved so fast, and your aim—well, I wouldn't have thought a mundane could do that."
Spencer looked away.
"It was Spencer's idea, actually," Simon said, glancing at her in the rearview mirror. "She asked me if there was anything in there that could help you guys, and she formulated the plan. All I did was break it."
"Well, either way," Isabelle said, looking at Spencer, "you guys saved our lives. Thank you."
"It was well done," Jace said, much to Spencer's surprise.
"Where did the demon even come from?" Spencer asked. "I thought the Sensor came up clean."
"It was Madame Dorothea," Clary said. "I mean, it was sort of her."
"She was never exactly a pinup," Simon said, "but I don't remember her looking that bad."
"I think she was possessed," said Clary. "She wanted me to give her the Cup. Then she opened the Portal..."
"Wait a minute," Spencer said. "Tell me you didn't pull the Cup out of the card in front of her." At Clary's silence, she shook her head. "Not the move I would've made."
"Oh, yeah?" Clary snapped. "What exactly would you have done, mundane?" Even Simon winced at her use of the word.
"Probably not told Dorothea about her having the Cup?" Spencer replied. "I don't know, it seems like this is maybe something you should've kept to yourself."
"Forgive me for trusting an elderly woman I've known my entire life!" Clary shot back. "And besides, it was Jace who told her she had it anyway. So don't go blaming me for everything."
"Please don't bring me into this," Jace said mildly. "I have more important things on my mind than who's to blame for what."
Spencer instantly felt guilty, and instead looked down at Alec. His hands were now clammy and he'd broken out in a cold sweat. She reached out and placed a hand on him. Her own skin began to burn, and she withdrew it from him.
"Why aren't we there yet?" Jace demanded.
"We are," Simon said. "I'm trying not to crash into a wall."
As soon as the van stopped, Spencer reached for the back door and shoved it open. Jumping out, she saw Hodge standing in the open doorway.
Jace hopped down next, pushing Spencer out of the way and lifting Alec out of the van. He started up the steps, adjusting his load every few paces.
Spencer reached inside for their weapons bag before helping Isabelle down, putting her arm around her to steady her. Isabelle glanced at her gratefully, and the two followed Jace and Alec. Hodge ushered them inside, and the Institute's door shut behind them.
* * *
Spencer and Isabelle sat by Alec's bed. Hodge had checked Isabelle for broken bones and permanent damage, but she was completely fine. Well, better than Alec, anyway.
Jace had left ages ago, lingering only to see Hodge's ministrations to he and Alec. When he'd walked out of the infirmary, his fingers had been so tightly wound into his hair that Spencer had worried he'd yank his entire scalp off.
Neither Spencer nor Isabelle had left Alec's side, except for when Spencer had gone to change into a pair of tights and a tank top. She hung the suit up in her room—she'd return it to the weapons room later. She'd made a stop in the kitchen to make her and Isabelle something to eat.
"Any change?" she asked, passing Isabelle a salad sandwich.
She shook her head. "Nothing. He hasn't reacted to Hodge's healing yet. I'm beginning to think he might never wake up."
Spencer retook her seat across from Isabelle, considering her next words. She didn't want to be too harsh, but she also didn't want to give her false hope. "If Alec wakes up, I give you permission to kick his ass," she said. "But the Silent Brothers will come."
"I know they will," Isabelle said thickly. "I think I'm more scared that they'll be too late."
Spencer didn't know what to say, so she remained silent.
"The demon—Abbadon—before you came in, it said something," Isabelle said. "It said, 'Where is she? Tell me where she is'." She looked over at Spencer. "I think it was talking about you."
Spencer blinked. "What?"
"It could smell you, too. That's why it grabbed me." She reached back and pulled her braid—now half undone—over her shoulder. She removed the hair elastic and held it up. "I think this is what it could smell."
"I don't understand," Spencer said, taking it from her. "It could smell me? It asked where I was?"
Isabelle nodded. "Look, Spencer, you're a gifted mundane," she said. "I've known that since the night I met you, when you threw that screwdriver at Jace with insane precision. And the next day, when Alec and I came after you, that only confirmed it." She let out a breath. "You're different. And I need you to tell me why."
"Why what?" Spencer said, then sighed. "Iz, I don't know why. All I know is my training. And I was trained to never miss a single shot."
"But why?" Isabelle pressed. "Are you secretly a Shadowhunter? Is that why you were there that night in Pandemonium?" Her eyes widened. "Are you in league with Valentine?"
"What?" Spencer demanded. "In league with-with Valentine? How could you think that?"
"Well, why else would you save that demon at the club? Everyone knows that Valentine worked with demons during the Uprising," she said. "Are you with him, or not?"
"Not," Spencer ground out, and the hurt in her eyes must have been clear to Isabelle because she immediately sat back.
"Good," she said. "I'm sorry for pushing you, but it's been bugging me for ages."
"Well, I'm glad we cleared that up," Spencer said sarcastically.
Church leaped up onto Alec's bed. Isabelle looked like she might shoo him away, but thought better of it.
"Did you really think I worked for Valentine?" Spencer asked.
Isabelle shrugged. "It seemed likely," she said. "We run into two mundanes in one night, both of whom have the Sight, and one of them has unbelievable fighting skills? It seemed impossible."
"Fair enough." Church turned his head to Spencer. "Did the others share your suspicions?"
"Not that I know of," Isabelle replied. "Everyone else was a bit preoccupied. Alec was too busy running after Jace, who was running after Clary, who was running after Simon—"
"Who was running after you," Spencer said, and Isabelle grinned.
"What a circle," she said.
Spencer smiled, gazing into Church's eyes. They were yellow, like small spotlights. He looked down at Alec and mewled softly at him, trying to push his head beneath Alec's hand, to no avail. As she watched, Church's pupils shrank until they were vertical slits.
She sat bolt upright, knocking her empty plate to the ground. "Isabelle," she said, still staring at Church's eyes, "I need to go out for a bit."
Isabelle looked up at her, alarmed. "Are you alright, Spencer?"
"I'm fine. I'll be back soon." She turned on her heel and practically ran out of the room.
* * *
Spencer rushed out into the hallway and headed for the stairs to the foyer. She ducked into the elevator and was about the slide the door close when a wild-looking Clary also slipped inside. She was out of breath.
"Spencer," Clary gasped, slamming her hand urgently onto the button. The elevator began to rattle as it descended. "You have to help me."
"What? Clary, what's wrong?"
"Hodge," she said. "He summoned Valentine, knocked Jace out, took the Cup. He gave it and Jace to Valentine. He's a traitor."
Spencer stared at her. "Clary—"
"He never called the Clave," she said insistently. "He lied to us—all of it was a lie."
"Breathe, Clary," Spencer said. She suddenly recalled Hodge's strange behaviour whenever it came to discussing the Clave. She had known something was off, but she'd never expected this.
She should have, though. She should have seen it. The Clave had cursed Hodge; why wouldn't he betray them once again?
"All I wanted was to be needed, and Valentine did need me."
He had told her, Spencer realised. He bad basically said he was working with Valentine, and she had completely missed it.
"You need to take this," Clary said, shoving a leather jacket into Spencer's hands. "It's Jace's. Use it to Track him. You need to find him, Spencer. I know you can. Valentine will kill him, otherwise."
"I—of course," Spencer said, taking it from her. "Where're you going?"
"I'm going after Hodge," Clary replied. "And I can't lose him." With that, she opened the cage and sprinted out the front door. Spencer ran after her, and saw Clary plunge into the crowd. Soon, she lost sight of her, the flame of her red hair extinguished in the crowd.