The Mortal Instruments (Book 1-3)

01. The Pandemonium Club

The room felt of stifling, hot sweat. Daphne Penhallow tugged at her long, greek chiffon, an expression of discomfort on her face as the humidity of the room—the heat of a horde of teenage bodies grinding up against each other—made the material of her wear stick to her skin uncomfortably.

The plan was simple enough: attract the demon's attention, draw him to an isolated room, and slit his throat.

She could kill Isabelle for making her play the part. But the Lightwood girl had insisted don wearing a seductive, revealing outfit that did nothing to hide the inky black runes inked onto her skin. The demon would've recognized her as a Nephilim immediately, and fled. So Daphne had been forced to wear this ridiculous outfit instead, blending in with the other costumed teenagers on the dance floor.

Despite her discomfort, the girl wore a look of disinterest. She made her way casually through the crowd, blending in with the throngs of teenagers around her, all swaying to the music and jumping up and down like amateurs. It took her a while to locate her target, but she finally caught sight of the boy as she danced among the crowd. 

He had blue hair and a red jacket, and with the other costumed teenagers in the crowd, she never would have realized it was him if not for the awareness rune burning on the nape of her neck. With it, she could see the boy's true form when she concentrated hard enough: a white, greasy, slimy slug-like thing, with its body covered in gray pockmarks.

She shuddered, letting the illusion fall back into place. If she had to get near the thing, she'd rather have him looking like a normal teenage boy—however nasty teenage boys were, a gross, blobby slug was much worse to look at.

...Most of the time, at least.

Daphne swayed with the crowd, letting her body move to the beat of the music. She rolled her neck back slowly, letting her long black hair fall down in waves behind her shoulders as her hands slowly trailed up her neck. She caught the eye of the Eidolon demon, and let a curious expression cross her face. In his disguise, the demon boy was quite attractive, so she let herself appear as though she was interested. The demon smirked, and gestured with a finger for her to come over.

Daphne hid her smirk, Got you. 

Be it human, Downworlder, or demon—boys were so easy to manipulate.

Breaking away from the mass of dancers, she maintained eye contact with him as she slowly walked forward. The boy's eyes left hers as he began assessing the rest of her face, tongue flicking out to lick his lips. Daphne tilted her head ever so slightly to the side, a playful, inviting smile on her face as she began to walk off. She didn't need to look behind her to know the boy was following.

As she retreated through the colored smoke in the club, she reached a wall, her floor-length gown swishing as she turned, a cool smile on her lips. She moved to the side, so the demon could see that she was leaning against a closed door. NO ADMITTANCE STORAGE was scrawled across it in red paint. A hungry, excited expression crossed the boy's face as she reached behind her for the knob, turned it, and slid inside the storage room. 

The blue-haired boy glanced behind him, probably checking to see that no one was looking, and then slipped into the room after her. "What's your name?" He asked with a smile, as the two stood in the storage room together.

The dark-haired girl turned and smiled. What faint light there was in the storage room spilled down through high barred windows smeared with dirt. Piles of electrical cables, along with broken bits of mirrored disco balls and discarded paint cans, littered the floor. "Daphne."

"That's a nice name." He walked toward her, stepping carefully among the wires in case any of them were live. She let him get closer, waiting for the right moment, all the while wearing an innocent smile on her face. "I haven't seen you here before." He said.