Chapter 57 – Betrayals

The wind that should have chilled my skin felt numb against my body. The heat pulsed in my blood, flowing through my veins and seemed to keep the cold away. The snow-covered ground was slippery, frozen, and every hurried step away from the Accords Hall further unsettled my sense of balance. As if I had used up my last reserves to deliver the blow to Adam.

I skidded to a stop a few meters from a fountain. The outlines of the dark stone depicted the figures of angels and demons slaughtering each other. A sight that suddenly brought me back to reality, alcohol in my blood or not. A shiver ran down my spine and my feet staggered to the side, away from the fountain, my arms wrapped protectively around my middle.

"Clary." A wince ran through me. Due to the fear that Adam would follow me. It was actually pretty stupid to go out alone after he had been trying to lure me out of there anyway. But that wasn't Adam's voice that rang through the dead silent night. I slowly turned back toward the Accords Hall, squinting because the lanterns of witchlight were giving me a headache.

There he stood, a few meters from the closing wooden door of the hall. The golden blond hair disheveled, the night-black jacket crumpled, the golden eyes fixed on me. Worried, tense, knowing. He must have been watching me. Just like at the beginning of the evening when he had been able to tell Isabelle exactly how many glasses I had drunk. A weight fell from my heart.

"Jace." The fear, the anger, the sadness suddenly disappeared. Suddenly all I felt was enormous relief.

"Are you okay?" he asked, coming closer. His watchful eyes ran over my body, analyzing, as if he was looking for something without finding it.

I tried to smile, tried to nod, but already knew I was unconvincing; that my smile didn't reach my eyes. There are people who won't judge you for your pain. So I gave up. A brief shrug of my shoulders made Jace finally close the distance to me. He squirmed out of his jacket and slung it around my shoulders without asking any questions.

"You saw it?" A curt nod. I sighed to myself and closed my eyelids, only to find the world spinning faster around me. When Jace grabbed my arms to steady me, I didn't flinch. I leaned into his touch, and he let me.

"You were right," I said with difficulty. Every word was straining on my tongue. My sentences had turned into a slur. "With what you said about the alcohol." Isabelle and you were right about your warnings about Adam. But I couldn't get that out of my mouth.

"And if so," Jace whispered and shrugged indifferently. A soft smile crept onto his features as he watched me. "Then you simply had a bit too much to drink. The evening is not yet lost. You can still continue to enjoy yourself. I'm sure you'll have at least as much fun with Isabelle."

"I thought you were going to lecture me now," I admitted, rubbing my shaking fingers together in a poor attempt to warm them. I tilted my head back to meet Jace's eyes. There was a mixture of anger and sorrow in them.

Jace brushed a strand of hair from my face; put it behind my ear. The tips of his fingers brushed my cheek and remained there. "What happened shouldn't have unfolded that way. All I can say is ... you're better off now. Adam is an idiot."

"He is– was my friend," I choked out. "My only friend since ..." A silent sob shook my body, but the tears stayed away.

"You don't need him. You have Izzy." Jace paused and threw half a grin at me. I felt the tremble in his fingers, which were still feather-light against my face. No trembling from fear. Or tension. As if he pulled himself together; as if he was holding back. "You have me."

The urge to touch Jace was hard to contain. You have me. If I had been sober, I could have accurately interpreted how his words were meant. But in my condition, I could only guess. Just hoping for what my sober self never dared to hope for.

"Do you want to sit down?" Jace said before I could say anything. Something flashed across his face. Nervousness? It disappeared as quickly as it came, so I might as well have imagined it.

My gaze slid to the edge of the fountain without really seeing the carved stone figures. "I don't think I could get back on my feet on my own," I admitted, although I would have liked nothing more than to sit down. Angel's Square seemed to spin around me faster and faster with each passing second, and the longer I stood on my feet, the heavier my body weight seemed to become.

"I'll help you up if you can't make it alone." A wry smile spread across Jace's features. So honest and soft that the corners of my mouth might have turned up in response if my thoughts hadn't continued to race. Adam. All my brain could focus on was the feeling in my stomach that I had been betrayed. Again.

My eyes darted to the entrance to the Accords Hall, which mahogany doors merged into a black as dark as the starry sky in the gloom of the night. Instead of a grin, a curtain of sadness fell over me. "This evening started so beautifully. Everything was perfect."

Perfect. A strong word. A word that had no place in my life. Not because I didn't want to, but because there was nothing perfect. Only today. Today had been perfect. At least for a while. Until the shattering realization that Adam wasn't actually my friend. Tomorrow, I would have to think about what exactly that meant.

"Then let's go in and continue there," Jace said, a new tone in his voice. Not a plea, not a request, but as if he hoped I would follow his suggestion.

"I can't face Adam." Of course, I knew he meant something else. When I closed my eyes, I could see both of us in the middle of the dance floor. Surrounded by the broken colors of the mosaic windows, flickering candlelight and a melody that captivates you. And at the center of it all, Jace's face and this hypnotizing warmth in my center that had no chance against the overwhelming cold out here. When I opened my eyes, Jace was still there in front of me, but the vivid, emotional fire was missing. Maybe we would be able to let this warmth rise in our bodies again if I returned to the hall with him, to the celebrations. Perhaps.

I closed my eyelids. Not to conjure up this image in my mind's eye. I opened my mouth and let the frosty, dry winter air rush into my lungs; let this cold organize my thoughts. The alcohol pulsing stronger and stronger through my veins made me overcome the usual hesitation and reserve. I tilted my head back to look directly at Jace; so as not to miss a moment of his reaction.

"What is this between us, Jace?"

There it was. The question that pushed all others into the background. Even Adam. Even if this was far from the right time to ask it. But I couldn't help it. I had the unsettling feeling that Adam had just set something in motion that wouldn't settle down anytime soon. So why not just bring the entire house of cards crashing down? So why not just risk everything when so much had already been lost?

I could see my question throwing Jace off course. The mask of indifference and inaccessibility fought its way onto his features, but only for a fraction of a moment. Probably because he knew denying it wouldn't help. It was too late for that. The kiss at the Seelie Court had shaken the fabric of our fragile dynamic, even if we had managed to ignore it for a while afterwards. I could see that Jace was trying to stay calm. His fingers tightened around my elbows, as if he was fighting the flight reflex in his chest.

"I don't know for sure," Jace said into the stillness of the night. I followed the white clouds of his breath as they floated skyward. His tone had taken on a whisper, barely louder than the breath of a voice. The ghost of a voice. "Time will tell."

"I don't have much time left," I replied, the pronunciation of the words suddenly more precise. It was the first time I broached this topic. Jonathan would come and I would probably die trying to stop him. I expected it.

Whether Jace understood my implication or not, his hands went to my waist. Hesitant. As if he was thinking. As if he was weighing things up. It was the alcohol that leaned my body toward him, that pushed me against him until I felt his breath on my lips. The warmth that radiated from him, even out here in the cold, increased the pulsation of blood in my ears. I was sure Jace could feel the pounding of my heart through my dress. And how it accelerated.

"What about Adam?" Jace then asked. Raw and breathless. His strong arms wrapped tightly around my back.

My head seemed to spin on its own. The friendly affection I had felt for Adam had evaporated when I had realized the truth. A truth I had to tell Jace about. Even though I didn't know how to get that fact off my tongue. "I don't have feelings for Adam."

Unlike at the Seelie Court, where Jace had pulled me close to him, now it was I who reached out to him with my hands. Like on the dance floor, they found their way to the back of his neck, burying themselves in the collar of his shirt. The far-sighted, perceptive part of me would deny the feelings in my stomach, would blame them on the alcohol. But it wasn't her turn at the moment. The part of me that longed for closeness and connection, and for the many things that had always been denied to me, would be aware that this had nothing to do with alcohol. As soon as the last of the alcohol left my system, the more powerful part would take control of me again, would have to clean up the mess; would push the weaker part back into the cell that lay at the bottom of my consciousness. But for this moment, for this night, it was my weaker part's turn.

I leaned forward to press my lips against his and Jace met me halfway. He pulled me closer to him, as if he too had thrown away his barriers. Just for this one moment. Jace's fingers slid away from my back, up to my cheeks, then into the pit between my head and neck, into my hair. His mouth slid over mine and I lost touch with reality.

We moved. I had no idea who started to. Our feet tripped over each other. Our breaths met and stopped. My back hit the cold facade of a building, but I was disoriented. All I felt was Jace's mouth pressing demandingly against mine. Greedy like a breathless man chasing oxygen. A sigh passed my lips. Possibly his name, but I was too far away from the here and now. This was a new type of trance that only Jace and I had access to.

And then the bubble burst. Sudden and unpredictable. It felt like being pushed over the edge of a cliff and shattering into a thousand little pieces at the bottom. But this time Jace didn't try to recreate that bubble. He didn't try to slip into that trance again. No. It was he who had made it burst.

Jace jerked his head back and then stumbled backwards as quickly as if he had been burned. Like I burned him. My foggy brain couldn't bring itself to reproduce the image in front of my eyes. There was his face, but that was all I could see in the darkness. Everything else was a blur of black in the shadows of the Accords Hall I was leaning against. The cold of the facade ate through the jacket as if the material wasn't even there.

"What– What's wrong?" My voice was a stammer. I was in a trance. A mix of alcohol and passion. A dangerous, idiotic mixture, as it turned out.

Jace's face stiffened, becoming hard as the stone in my back. For a second. Then I saw the despair, the guilt, flicker in his golden eyes. Helplessness. "I'm sorry," he murmured. Distant. He put more distance between us, and the budding rejection spread like poison in my chest. The tears that were building up burned behind my eyelids, but I didn't dare – even in this damned state – to let them fall. "I thought I could do it, but I'm not sure ..."

So that was it. So the topic was still floating around in his head. The tiresome Morgenstern topic. I forced my chin into a weak nod. Go. Turn around and leave.

And that's exactly what Jace did. Not without apologizing again. He disappeared into the Accords Hall. The dull slam of the gates was the last thing I heard before I allowed the tears to fall.

oOo

Seeing Clary's face move closer to him ripped the last shred of self-discipline to shreds. Jace stared into her dilated pupils, framed by green crystals that, even now in the dim light, sparkled with full intensity. They beamed at him. How often had he imagined this exact situation in the last few days? How many times had he had to widen his eyes to escape that fantasy?

Jace's fingers were already on Clary's hip, afraid that she would fall without help. Actually, she was in no condition to kiss or be kissed. But as she buried her hands in his neck and lifted her chin toward him, his fingers tingled with the need to pull her to him. Like an eternal, unbearable itch that you wanted to satisfy. Only to realize that a quick scratch only made things a hundred times worse.

Kissing Clary was like falling into an infinite depth. As if you nevertheless gained firm ground under your feet. As if the ever-expanding universe around you finally centered. She was the person. That one person. Jace knew it. He just knew it. There was not a shred of denial there. Except for the fact that his own head was denying what his heart had already known for a while.

"What– What's wrong?" Breathless confusion.

There were these images in his mind's eye. These feelings that reminded Jace of the agonizing pain of the last few years. That voice that told him he was committing treason. The years spent trying to control his hatred for Valentine Morgenstern. Murderer. The murderer of his parents. How could he kiss this murderer's daughter? How could he even think of her like that?

The helpless look in her light green eyes was enough to banish those thoughts. Enough to ignite another rage in Jace. The anger at himself; that he still couldn't distinguish between Valentine and Clary. Although. He could. Mostly. There was just that last part of him that needed convincing. Habits didn't break so easily.

"I'm sorry." Even to his ears the words sounded dull. Jace staggered back. More distance. He couldn't even look at Clary. An emptiness spread within him, and he wanted nothing more than to run towards her again and undo the last thirty seconds. "I thought I could do it, but I'm not sure ..."

Clary tried to hide the pain. Just like she always did. Just as she had learned from the man who had caused her so much more psychological torment than him. If only Jace heard about it from her narrations ... He couldn't begin to imagine what she had been through. And despite everything, she was so ... perfect. Fractured, yes, but not broken. Clary was strong and smart and cunning. And vulnerable.

Jace was an idiot as he followed her passive nod and turned his back to her, even though he could see through the cracks in her mask. The glimpses of the pain his rejection caused her. His feet moved mechanically, without his consent. Away from her. Physically, but not mentally. His mind continued to dwell on Clary. And cursed him for his inability to finally let go of his fear.

Minutes later, as Jace stood back in the celebrating crowd of the Accords Hall – as his restless eyes fixed on Adam – he finally found a way to give vent to the fear. The old-fashioned way. By turning it into something more powerful: fury.

Isabelle, Magnus and Alec were already surrounding Adam, talking to him. They stood a little away from the hustle and bustle. In the shadow of one of the massive pillars that ran on both sides of the hall up to the front of the podium. There was anger on his friends' faces. Anger, annoyance and resentment. Nothing like the resentment that swelled in Jace at the sight of Adam. A moment ago, despair had been gnawing at him, but suddenly everything was swept away. The swirl of emotions in Jace's chest was too intense, too resentful to control.

The jealousy of seeing Clary with Adam because he wanted to be by her side. The fear of betraying the memory of his dead parents if he gave in to his attraction to Clary. The anger of seeing Adam's arrogant, guilt-free face while Clary was outside agonizing over him.

"I knew there was something wrong with you," Jace growled, his shaking hands balled into fists.

Four pairs of eyes focused on Jace. A shadow fell over Adam's face. A purple swelling developed where Clary had hit him with her hand. This bastard deserved so much more. Alec and the warlock stepped aside as Jace halted in front of Adam. Isabelle walked to his side, her arms crossed over her chest, her dark eyes seething.

"He wouldn't tell me why he and Clary were arguing," she explained with smooth sharpness. She nodded to Alec and Magnus. "The two of them told me what they saw."

"What happened between Clary and me is none of your damn business," Adam said, all politeness that he had previously reserved for Clary gone. He drew himself up to his full height, brushed back his pine-brown hair, and put on a smug mask. As if he was right. As if he hadn't done anything wrong.

"What do you want from Clary?" Jace asked.

"So she didn't tell you anything," Adam stated happily. A half smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

"She's told me enough." The finality in Jace's tone made Adam's smile disappear as quickly as it came. He took another step towards Adam, into his private space. Eye to eye. Jace towered over Adam by a few centimeters. "What do you want from Clary?"

Adam hesitated. Something flickered in his green eyes. Apprehension. Just for a fraction of a moment, but long enough for Jace's fingers to slide to his hip of their own accord. Where his gun belt would have normally been. Adam followed his movement. Sweat trickled down his temple. Like he was nervous.

A wheel in Jace's brain began to turn. What do you want from Clary? Until that moment, he had mistaken Adam's attempt to lure Clary outside as an attempt to exploit her intoxicated state for his needs. Only now did he realize how out of character this action was for someone of Adam's caliber. Hadn't he and Isabelle recently warned Clary about Adam's clever mind? About his political stance within the Nephilim?

"Jace asked you a question," Isabelle hissed from next to Jace.

Adam came from an influential family that was heavily involved in the Clave. The way he carried himself, the way he articulated himself, suggested that he had learned to persuade people as a child. To manipulate. No. Adam wasn't one to ruin his reputation for such a rash act. No. Adam thought long term. He calculated like chess moves.

"I would never harm Clary," Adam said firmly. But even Adam, who was so good at selling stories, couldn't hold Jace's gaze. And as the green dodged the gold, something clicked in Jace's brain.

I would never harm Clary. Maybe his words were true. Jace's breath caught in his throat as he suddenly realized that he and Isabelle had additionally warned Clary about Adam for a completely different reason. Blake Ashdown.

I would never harm Clary. "But Blake would." The words barely escaped Jace's lips. A bitter, panicked chill spread through his stomach. Beside him, Isabelle gasped audibly as the realization hit her too.

Jace moved backwards. Away from Adam, who made no attempt to hide the confirmation on his features. Adam had wanted to lure Clary outside to hand her over to Blake. Or something like that.

Jace's feet turned on his heel as if he had been struck by lightning. The vision before his eyes blurred into a sea of shapes and colors. Only the dark tunnel leading to the exit retained its sharpness. He pushed away people who crossed his path. Forcing his feet to run faster and faster. Ignored the angry comments thrown at him. Ignoring Isabelle's frenzied screaming from somewhere behind him.

Jace ran.

oOo

I couldn't breathe. Not out of passion. But because a wave of pain seemed to rip through my stomach. A quick sideways glance at the fountain told me I wouldn't make it there. Not with the alcohol, not with the pain. So I slid to the ground along the polished stone of the Accords Hall, ignoring the frost and snow and lifting my head to the sky.

Have you ever been loved unconditionally? The Seelie Queen had lied. A lie to delight in our confusion. Goal achieved.

My stomach shook, wanting to vent the pain. I could barely get enough oxygen into my lungs to see the distant stars above me. Everything around me was blurred, but I could see the stars. Clear as ever. A silent sob shook my body.

How had I believed for even a second that Jace could actually feel something for me? And that was exactly why I blocked those feelings away, that was why I suppressed them. They were good for nothing. Only led to pain and suffering and distraction. Like now.

My limbs were shaking. Maybe out of agony, maybe because of the cold. What now? I couldn't sit here in the snow. But I couldn't go back in either. Back to the Lightwood estate, then. To bed. Sleep off the alcohol. And then? It was time for me to put an end to this damn circus. This life had to end. How long would I live with the Lightwoods before Jonathan returned to finish what he had started?

I leaned forward. Got to my knees, ignoring the dress in the dirt. It was already wet from the snow. Without the support of the Accords Hall, I certainly wouldn't have been able to get back on my feet. I wavered, staggered and stumbled. The floor was so slippery. My head was so foggy. My heart was so torn. I was distracted.

"Can I be of any assistance?" asked a voice from the darkness of the alley behind me.
The lack of emotion in it made all the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.

I spun around as quickly as I could, staring into the blackness and waiting for the person to step into the witchlight of the nearest lantern. When my limbs began to tremble this time, it was due to the exertion. Struggling to act my usual self. Every fiber of my mind screamed for it.

"Consul." I prevented my voice from sounding surprised and nodded my head in greeting. Malachi's stern face was unmistakable even in the pale light. He wore the black Shadowhunter gear, with a thick winter coat over it. As if he were on his way to a mission. Neither the Consul nor the Inquisitor ever took part in any missions.

"It is pretty cold out here, Clarissa," Malachi said, and although the content of his words expressed concern, he sounded far from sympathetic. "As scantily clad as you are, this isn't a good place for you."

Every alarm bell went off in my head. "Thank you for your concern, but I'm fine." A lie. And although I sounded confident and no less emotionless than Malachi, my acting was pointless since he had probably been watching me from the darkness for quite some time.

The thought gave me pause. My brain started working at full speed. Malachi took a step towards me. Something in my brain clicked. As if I had brought together the ends of two interrelated threads. After Jace, no one else had left the hall, we would have noticed that. So Malachi must have been out here before me. Secluded in the darkness of an easily overlooked alley. As if he had wanted to remain undetected. As if he had been waiting for something. Or someone. Adam appeared in my mind's eye, trying with all his might to get me outside.

Suddenly an icy tingling sensation ran through my arms. How likely was it that Adam and Malachi worked together? How likely was it that Malachi was working alone, and Adam had wanted to lure me out of the Accords Hall for something else?

As the Consul took another step towards me, my body slid into a defensive position of its own accord. A reflex that was almost as old as myself. On Malachi's rational face, his mouth turned up in amusement. As if he was happy not to have to keep up this fake conversation. His right hand turned – not longer than the blink of an eye – and silver dagger glittered in the light of the lantern.

The world still whirled around me. Fast. Too fast. The fog around my head was too thick, my senses too blurred, my reflexes present but too slow. I would lose. I had no chance. Damn.

My eyes scanned my limited field of vision, desperate for help; for anything. But Malachi gave me no reprieve. He lunged forward. Faster than a regular Shadowhunter. I couldn't rely on my body in this state, but I did it anyway. I had no choice, no alternative.

My feet jumped to the side, my arms shot up. Defense. Then Malachi was before me, dagger raised. My knees dropped to duck, but I stumbled, losing my balance. My fingers clamped down on the Consul's wrist. My weakening strength was smashed to pieces by his charged energy.

The dagger hit my shoulder, cut into my flesh, slashed my upper arm. My legs hit the ground as Malachi pulled the blade out of me. A gasp escaped my lips, a deep breath as if I were drowning. Then I fell sideways, into the snow, into the dirt. And the crystal-clear starry sky appeared in front of me again.

My hand slowly moved up to my upper arm. A searing pain flashed through my arm. The blood was black as the sky, like everything around us. Even the witchlight couldn't turn it reddish. Like demonic blood. Like Jonathan's blood.

Malachi turned his back on me and as he walked back toward the alley, I thought he would leave me here. But he couldn't do that. This injury wouldn't kill me.

His call echoed through the darkness, into the alley. So he wasn't alone.

I squinted, trying to make out something in the black, but it was impossible. Not with my unreliable vision. Now that I was wounded and my intoxicated body didn't know what to do, everything whirled around me more violently. The pitch-black world became a single carousel.

So much darkness. So much shadow. I pressed my fingers deeper into my wound. A suppressed scream. Then I rolled over onto my stomach with a muffled whimper. An action that suddenly fixed Malachi's attention on me. But when I followed him into the alley – crawling, on all fours – he actually started laughing. Probably because he thought I was trying to continue the fight.

Malachi. Malachi. Malachi. Footsteps echoed across the cobblestones. I felt unconsciousness tugging at my limbs. Too much. It was all too much. Murmurs became loud. A familiar voice approached, and Malachi interrupted with commanding authority. I couldn't understand it anymore. So I was closer to the dark than the light.

Malachi. Malachi. I pressed my bloody fingers to the ground. Started lining up the letters. Blind because the witchlight no longer reached here. But that was the point. Until the word made sense. Until I was grabbed from behind and I fainted. His name like a curse on my tongue.

Malachi.

-

There's so much happening in this chapter omg. There you go guys, there you finally get your Clace kiss. Even though it comes with a catch. What do you think??? Please let me know!!! :OOO Did you like Jace's pov? What will happen to Clary now, do you have any idea?

I would be happy if you give the chapter a like! :)

Skyllen