The Mortal Instruments (Book 1-3)

08. Back to the Institute

"Those were the men who killed my father."

A silence descended upon the group after Jace's words. Clary and Simon stared with wide eyes, gaping jaws. Jace stood up. "We should go." He said. "We don't know if or when they might come back."

She discreetly linked her hands around Jace's arms, turning away from Clary and Simon. The four of them left through the back entrance, Jace using his stele to lock up behind them.  As they made their way out onto the silent street, the moon hung like a locket over the city, casting pearly reflections on the water of the East River. The distant hum of cars going by over the Williamsburg Bridge filled the humid air with a sound like beating wings. Simon said, "Does anyone want to tell me where we're going?"

"To the L train." said Jace calmly.

"You've got to be kidding me." Simon said, blinking. "Demon slayers take the subway?"

"I'm sorry, were you expecting a private plane?" Daphne said sarcastically.

"I thought it'd be something cooler, like a van with 'Death to Demons' painted on the outside, or..."

Ignoring Simon, Daphne's eyes flickered over to her parabatai warily. Worriedly. Jace got like this sometimes, when he was angry. It was a calm that reminded Daphne of the the deceptively hard sheen of ice just before it cracked under your weight. A scary-calm, as Isabelle and Alec had once described it. Jace's face was expressionless, but something burned at the backs of his tawny eyes.

The two Shadowhunters turned onto Kent Avenue, and came to a pause before the old cathedral. Simon frowned, staring up at the broken-in windows and doors sealed with yellow police tape. "You live here? But it's a church."

"We are half-angels," Daphne pointed out, reaching into the neck of her shirt and pulling out a brass key on the end of a chain.

"I get that but, no offense—this place is a dump." Simon said, looking dubiously at the bent iron fence that surrounded the ancient building, the trash piled up beside the steps. Clary looked faintly embarrassed on her friend's behalf. 

"It's a glamour." She explained to Simon. "It doesn't really look like this."

"If this is your idea of glamour, I'm having second thoughts about letting you make me over."

Daphne fitted the key into the lock, and Jace glanced over his shoulder at Simon. "I'm not sure you're quite sensible of the honor we're doing you," He said. "You'll be one of the first mundanes who have ever been inside the Institute."

"Probably the smell keeps the rest of them away."

"Ignore him." Clary said to Jace, and elbowed Simon in the side. "He always says exactly what comes into his head. No filters."

"Filters are for cigarettes and coffee." Simon said. "Two things I could use right now, incidentally."

They made their way up a winding set of stone stairs, each one carved with a glyph. The four of them reached the elevator and rode up in silence. The elevator eventually came to a hissing stop, and they arrived in the entryway. Jace shrugged off his jacket, threw it over the back of a nearby chair, and whistled through his teeth.

In a few seconds Church appeared, slinking low to the ground, his yellow eyes gleaming in the dusty air. "Church," Jace said, kneeling down to stroke the cat's gray head. "Where's Alec, Church? Where's Hodge?"

Jace's eyes were on the cat, but Daphne's eyes were on Jace. It was small things like this, Daphne thought, that made Jace so very... charming. And sweet. Sure, he had this whole bad-boy/playboy image set up for him, but she knew him better than that. Alongside the mischievous flirtatiousness, he could also be quite soft at times. It was rare to see, but when it happened, Daphne couldn't help but admire him even more.