We are the last ones

Part 8 - dead in the water

Sebastian dragged Clary's body out of the canal, attracting a few strange looks.
He was glamoured, but Clary wasn't, so imagine what a sight, a body slithering on the pavement, moving and rolling by itself...
He twisted his ring.
A loud thud as Clary's unconscious body slammed on the floor of the apartment. He kneeled next to her and drew his stele out, carving an iratze in the soft skin of her forearm.
Then, he took her in his arms and took her to Jocelyn's room.
He debated with himself whether he should change his sister out of her soaked clothes, or leave her like that.
The second option had the better, after all, it was what Clary would've expected him to do.
He opened a draw and took a light black camisole out, then.
He closed his eyes, expertly, he began undressing her.

Simon flinched at the sight of Luke's sweaty and powerless body, lying on the bed in his study at the Hunter's Moon. Jocelyn was asleep, her head pillowed by her hands on one side of the bed. Her hair was a mess, barely contained by a ponytail. Bat bustled around Luke with tweezers, trying to understand what was wrong.
"It's a demon metal," suddenly Jocelyn was up and her fingers were brushing Luke's wound.
"We can't pull it out, or it will bury itself deeper."
Simon could see it how much it costed her to say all of this, it was like letting go of all hope.
Bat nodded and he put a hand on Jocelyn's shoulder, as if she were a fellow werewolf, a sister.
Simon suddenly felt like a lightbulb had just turned itself on in his head.
"The Praetor might be able to fix him," he attempted.
Jocelyn looked up, the sparkle of hope in her eyes ignited again.
Simon took his phone out and typed in Jordan's number, "hey, Jordan, i need your help right now, get your ass at the Hunter's Moon right now."
He disconnected, and Jocelyn pulled him into a hug.