He was covered in blood, practically drowning in it. Clary cries out his name before running across the room to embrace him. He gently hugged her back for second before pushing her away.
"I'm covered in blood," He said. "Don't worry—it isn't mine."
"Then whose is it?" Valentine's voice echoed through the room.
Luke's arm wrapped around Clary protectively. Jace stood hesitantly behind his father while Valentine watched them both intensely.
"Pangborn's," Luke said.
Valentine ran a hand over his face, as if the news pained him. "I see. Did you tear his throat out with your teeth?"
"Actually," Luke said. "I killed him with this." He held out a long thin dagger. "Do you remember it?"
Valentine looked down at it, his jaw tightening. "I do,"
Examining the blade i quickly recalled Valentine's earlier words. Clary's dagger had once been apart of a matched pair. The missing dagger was now dangling between Luke's fingertips, the blades reunited at last.
"You handed it to me seventeen years ago and told me to end my life with it," Luke explained, gripping the blade in his hand tightly. "And I nearly did."
"Do you expect me to deny it?" Valentine voice held a hint of pain, the memory of old grief weighing it down. "I tried to save you from yourself, Lucian. I made a grave mistake. If only I'd had the strength to kill you myself, you could have died a man."
"Like you?" Luke asked. "A man who chains his unconscious wife to a bed in the hopes of torturing her for information when she wakes up? That's your bravery?"
Jace stared up at his father. A flash of anger twisted Valentine's features for a second, then it was gone. "I didn't torture her," He said. "She is chained for her own protection."
"Against what?" Luke demanded daring at step closer to Valentine. "The only thing endangering her is you. The only thing that ever endangered her was you. She's spent her life running to get away from you."
"I loved her," Valentine said. "I never would have hurt her. It was you who turned her against me."
Luke laughed. "She didn't need me to turn her against you. She learned to hate you on her own."
"That is a lie!" Valentine roared in anger levelling his sword at Luke's heart.
My hand automatically raised my own, but Luke looked at me to tell me to stand down.
Jace took a step forward Valentine. "Father—"
"Jonathan, be silent!" Valentine shouted, a look of shock passed across Luke face at the name Valentine had called Jace.
"Jonathan?" He whispered.
Jace's mouth twisted. "Don't you call me that," He said fiercely, golden eyes blazing. "I'll kill you myself if you call me that."
"And then i would kill you." I warned him.
Luke ignored the blade pointed at his heart. "Your mother would be proud." He muttered.
"I don't have a mother," Jace said, his hands shaking. "The woman who gave birth to me walked away from me before i learned to remember her face. I was nothing to her, so she is nothing to me."
"Your mother is not the one who walked away from you," Luke said gaze moving slowly to Valentine. "I would have thought even you," He said. "Were above using your own flesh and blood as bait. I suppose i was wrong."
"That's enough." Valentine's tone held a certain fierceness to it, a hungry threat of violence. "Let go of my daughter, or I'll kill you where you stand."
"I'm not your daughter," Clary argued, but Luke pushed her away from him.
"Anna get her and yourself out of here," He said. "Get to where it's safe."
"I'm not leaving you!" Clary exclaimed.
"Clary, i mean it. Get out of here." Luke was already lifting his dagger. "This is not your fight."
She tried to argue back, but i was already across the room grabbing ahold of her arm. I dragged her away from Luke, towards the door. Then Jace stood in front of me, blocking the exit. For once the swiftness in which he moved was a hindrance rather than an advantage.
"Are you insane?" He hissed. "They've broken down the front door. This place will be full of Forsaken."
I shoved at him. "I can handle myself."
"You can not handle that many," He tried to reason. "And defiantly not while trying to protect her."
"Your opinion means nothing to me," He flinched slightly at my words. "Let me go–"
"I will not let you be torn apart."
My response was cut off by the sound of clashing metal behind us. I turned back to see Valentine had struck at Luke, who had met his blow easily. Their blades ground apart before they continued to move across the floor in a blur of feints and slashes.
"Oh, my God," Clary whispered. "They're going to kill each other."
"You don't understand," Jace replied. "This is how it's done—" He broke off to suck in a deep breath as Luke landed a blow across Valentine's shoulder. Blood flowed freely, staining his shirt.
Valentine threw his head back in a laugh. "A true hit," He said. "I hardly thought you had it in you, Lucian."
"You taught me that move yourself." Luke added.
In that moment i knew Jace had truly gone off the edge, this was not how it's done.
"But that was years ago," Valentine pondered. "And since then, you've hardly needed a knife, have you? Not when you have claws and fangs at your disposal."
"All the better to tear you heart out with."
Valentine shook his head. "You tore my heart out years ago." He said smoothly making it impossible to tell if his sorrow was real or feigned. "When you betrayed and deserted me." Luke struck at him again, but Valentine blocked his swiftly. "It was you who turned my wife against her own kind. You came to her when she was weakest, with your piteousness, your helpless need. I was distant and she thought you loved her."
Jace was tense beside me still refused to move aside. "That's your mother Valentine's talking about."
"She abandoned me," Jace replied. "Some mother."
"Your wrong, she thought you were dead. You want to know how i know that? Because she kept a box in her bedroom. It had your initial on it. J.C." Clary piped up.
"So she had a box," Jace said. "Lots of people have boxes. They keep things in them. It's a growing trend, i hear."
"You wormy little shi—"
Clary cut me off. "It had a lock of your har in it. Baby hair. And a photograph, maybe two. She used to take it out every year and cry over it. Awful brokenhearted crying—"
Jace clenched his fists at his side. "Stop it," He growled through a tight jaw.
"Stop what? Telling the truth? She thought you had died—she'd never have left you if she'd known you were alive. You thought your father was dead—" Clary continued stepping in front of me to get up into his face.
"I saw him die! Or thought i did. I didn't just—just hear about it and choose to believe it!" He whispered yelled back at her.
"She found your burned bones," Clary said quietly. "In the ruins of her house. Along with the bones of her mother and father."
Jace's eyes were full of disbelief, but if you looked close enough you could see he was straining to keep it up. "That's ridiculous," Jace argued, more with himself than Clary. "I didn't die—there weren't any bones."
"There were."
"So it was a glamour." He replied his voice rough and empty.
"Ask your father what happened to his mother and father-in-law." Clary said trying desperately to break down Jace's fragile wall of resistance. "Ask him if that was glamour, too—"
"Stop it." Jace screeched.
Somehow in that moment i knew, Clary's words would never be enough to break him. Valentine had twisted his mind, the man had an exceptional way with words. He didn't have any attachment to his long lost mother and maybe one day clary would be his world but that day wasn't today.
"Jace!" I exclaimed reaching forward to rest my hand on his cheek. "Your mother may not matter to you, but i should."
His body went tense at my touch, as he struggled to remain in control. "Wh—"
"Your Jace, my Jace." I whispered carefully. "Are you really going to give all that you have up, going to give me up for some false promise of hope." He hung onto my every word struggling to think of a response. "You have a life, you have a family goddamit you have me. Why isn't that enough for you?"
His body relaxed for a split second, but the boy was stubborn no doubt about it. He shoved me away in a last desperate attempt to keep me out. "Shut up!"
Luke glanced towards us startled by the noise. That split second of distraction though was all that Valentine needed. He drove the tip of his sword into Luke's chest, just below his collarbone. Luke's eyes widened in astonishment rather than pain as valentine pulled his sword out, it had been stained red all the way down to the hilt.
With a sharp laugh Valentine struck again, knocking Luke's weapon from his hands. It hit the floor with a loud clang before Valentine sent it flying across the floor with a hard kick. Luke collapsed while Valentine raised his sword over Luke ready to deliver the killing blow.
I didnt catch onto Clary's plan quick enough to stop her flying across the stone floor towards Luke. She threw up her hands as Valentine's sword fell in slow motion. He didn't hesitate for a single second.
Then there was a clang and Valentine cried out. His hand was now empty and bleeding. Jace stood next to me arm raised from the dagger he'd just flung towards his father.
He went sickly pale. "Father, I..."
Valentine examined his bleeding hand, for a moment a red hot rage flickered in his eyes. "That was an excellent throw, Jace."
Jace hesitated. "But your hand. I just thought—"
"I would not have hurt you sister," He replied moving across the room to retrieve his blade. "I would have stopped the blow. But your family concern is commendable."
"I need a bandage," Clary said as she took in Luke's state. "Some cloth, anything."
"Don't move, Jonathan." Valentine warned, Jace froze immediately. "Clarissa," He continued. "This man is an enemy of our family, an enemy of the Clave. We are hunters, and that means sometimes we are killers. Surely you understand."
"Demon hunters." I said. "Demon killers. Not murders. There's a difference."
"Quiet!" He yelled, raising a hand to silence me. "If i were not for your shadowhunter blood you would surely suffer just as he will." He threatened. "He is a demon, Clarissa. A demon with a man's face. I know how deceptive such monsters can be. Remember, I spared him once myself."
"Monster?" Clary echoed, glaring up at the man who dared to call himself her father. "Luke isn't a monster," Her voice was strong as Valentine's, steel against steel. "Or a murder. You are."
"Clary!" Jace shouted, she ignored him.
"You murdered your wife's parents, not in battle but in cold blood," She continued. "And i bet you murdered Michael Wayland and his little boy, too. Threw their bones in with my grandparents' so that my mother would think you and Jace were dead. Put you necklace around Michael Wayland's neck before you burned him so everyone would think those bones were yours. After all your talk about the untainted blood of the clave—you didn't care at all about their blood or their innocence when you killed them, did you? Slaughtering old people and children in cold blood, that's monstrous."
▹▹▹
A/N: YET AGAI THIS SCENE IS TAKING A SERIOUSLY LONG TIME TO WRITE OUT AND I DONT WANT TO GO BACK A NEW CHAPTER EVERY TEN YEARS SO HERE YOU GO MORE STORY HOPEFULLY NEXT CHAPTER I'LL FINISH OFF THIS SCENE.
QUESTION
As i may have mentioned i plan for these books to be a series thing, like one for each tmi book. So since the first book is now getting into it's final chapters i need to start thinking of a name for the next book.
So if anyone has any ideas for a sequel name, please share i have nothing so far.
ANYWHO OFF TO HOPEFULLY FINISH THE NEXT CHAPTER BYE.