independent. | Jace Wayland

chapter 4: unexpected guests.

<Y/n Pov>

Garroway Books, Williamsburg Brooklyn

Saturday, 5:53 p.m

"Just these please." I placed a couple books on the side board and fished some money out of my pocket.

"That'll be $14." Said the man behind the desk, he had a pair of glasses which sat rather low on his nose and behind them a set of blue eyes which were also partially hidden by a few loose strands of hair.

I handed him a $10 and $5 bill but when he was putting the books in a paper bag, he slid the $5 bill back over the side towards me.

"Keep it kid, you spend enough in here." He said softly, a small smile on his face.

"Thanks Mr Garrowway." I said and he nodded, "See you soon."

"Bye Y/n." He said as I shut the book shop door behind me.

I have been going to Garroway books for a couple years now and I often take a trip there whenever I go see Magnus, since his apartment and the shop are so close. I liked the whole aura of his shop, he had old and new books, second hand and leather bounds. I guarantee you could find pretty much anything. I used to have a summer job there but I stopped going since then, I began drinking too much and too many late nights didn't mix with working for Mr Garrowway.

He didn't ask any questions when I told him I couldn't come back to work in the shop, he simply nodded like he understood and that was the end of it.

Reading provided a comfort which was irreplaceable in my head. I used to be crushed under the weight of the lives I was not living but reading allowed me to experience the purest of ecstasies and the most crushing heartbrakes. I could live hundreds of lives and not even leave the loft.

Y/n's Loft, Midtown Manhattan

Saturday, 6:42 p.m

I was heading back there now. I climbed the winding stairs and paused at the top of the staircase, right in front of my door. Footsteps. I heard footsteps on the wooden floor within the loft.

Shit.

I opened the door and without even looking up I placed my bag, full of books and booze, on the dresser and looked up. Four people dotted around the room.

"Who the bloody hell are you?" I asked, rubbing my hand on my neck, eyeing the people. My eyes went straight to the figures by the window first, two women. One had long dark hair which spilled over her shoulders like ink, and my eyes flickered to the long coil of silver around her wrist.

The other girl had thick red curls which stopped just below her shoulders, her features soft and kind. My eyes darted to the movement to my left, a boy, he had dark hair which matched the first girl and striking blue eyes. He kicked off the wall where he was leaning and stood up straight.

"Are you Y/n?" He asked, his voice low and rough, he sounded so serious it made me laugh a little.

"I'll put the kettle on, I have guests." I chuckled.

"You don't have a kettle." Snapped a fourth person, he was sitting on my mattress, an open book of mine beside his left hand, 'Macbeth'. He had longer blonde hair and sharp angled bone structure, his head was resting on the wall behind him but his eyes were fixed on me.

"I could." I snapped back, how did he know I didn't?

"But you don't. I checked." I surveyed the four, they were all dressed in the same dark, black leather clothing.

"Okay so blondie knows you don't have a kettle and he's reading your book. They're all looking at you, stop freaking out." I instructed myself, quietly under my breath. I thought I had been quiet enough for none of them to hear but Blondie cocked his head curiously. I cleared my throat.

"You guys do know the Pandemonium is down by the East Village, you lot look like you're ready for a rave. Not a..." I gestured to the room, "My home." 

"You're very welcoming and alarmingly calm despite not knowing who we are." Observed Blondie from where he was still sitting.

"Hospitality makes your guests feel at home," I paused, "even when you wish they were." He chuckled, the sound was as soft as a cat's fur.

I began to take the books and bottle out of my bag and put the books with the others, a small pile by my mattress beside the blonde boy.

"Okay so there are people in your house, no deal, no biggie. Just be nice and they'll go away, they always go away."  I mumbled and moved back towards the dresser.

"You're talking to yourself." Observed the boy with dark hair.

"I'm aware." I answered back, taking a glass from the cupboard.

"Why?"

"There's just not normally people listening when I do it. Drink?" I held out the bottle.

"If it's all the same to you, I think you've had enough to drink." Said the girl with matching dark hair.

"Why? I'm not drunk right now." I surveyed the room again, and noticed something was missing. "Heyyy... What happened to all the bottles?" I said more to myself, "I swear to god they were here this morning." I mumbled again.

"We got rid of them." Said the boy with dark hair again, sounding more bored this time, He moved over to where the girls were standing and blondie stood up too. The four met by the window.

"Okay so we got four random people cleaning your house in the middle of the day. I'll admit, this has never happened before. Hey." I walked over to the small group who were whispering to themselves. "Quick question, what are..." I paused, "You people doing in my loft? Just to clarify." And the blonde boy spun to face me.

"Are you Y/n Cartwright?" His voice was thick and I could tell he was irritated, he ducked a little to look me face to face in the eye, his were the colour of honey. His words rang thick in my ears, I froze, I hadn't heard my family name in years, he reached in his jacket and I caught a glimpse of his wrist. Thick dark marks engraved in his skin. My eyes darted to the others, I could see them, on their necks and wrists poking out of their clothes. Marks. The same my parents had, the same- not possible.

"Ah so she does stop talking." Said the boy with dark hair, the girl with red curls elbowed him.

"Is this you?" Blondie showed me a photograph, it was me in Magnus's apartement, wrapped in blankets nursing a mug of hot chocolate with the sunlight on my face. I was 9 or 10, I don't remember specifically.

"Where-" I took a step back, "You shouldn't be here- no- no, you can't do this to me again." He reached out a long delicate hand as if to touch my elbow but I spun away from him "Leave me alone." I whispered, not wanting or caring how they found my home, or how they knew my name or what they wanted from me.

"But we need you to come with us, people are after you, we want to keep you safe." Said the red haired girl, she offered me a small smile, she seemed to be the friendliest of the 4.

"I've done well enough keeping myself safe." I said,  my voice steady but I felt as if I were close to shattering. It came off meaner than I meant it to, "Thank you for your concern but please leave." None of them made any movement.

Fine, if they aren't going to leave. I will.

I dropped the picture and darted for the window.

I heard blondie shout, "Wait!" but i didn't listen to him, I landed on the fire escape and slipped down onto the street and ran. I think they ran after me but I didn't hear them because my senses were overwhelmed with the drumming of my heartbeat and it washed away my other senses.